The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove (20 page)

the ends.

I smelled the cologne samples she’d given me and found a citrusy one I

liked.

I took a last look in the mirror and tried to tell myself that I looked good,

but I didn’t look as if I was trying too hard.

I turned on the porch light and locked the front door as I left. The days had

quickly become shorter and cooler. As I walked up the path toward the house on

the hill, I passed the amphitheatre. The sunlight flashed off something by a

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

bench.

At first I thought it might be a bottle cap or aluminum gum wrapper. With

the edge of my shoe, I pushed aside the dry brown leaves and saw a small silver

penknife. As I leaned over to pick it up, I noticed the two dark brownish-maroon

spots on the gray-veined marble bench. On impulse, I licked the tip of my finger

and dragged it across one of the spots. My finger came away red.

It was blood.

I looked around, but didn’t see any blood spots or splatters on the ground,

the kind you see when someone’s run off. We’d had those at my old school –

splashes, splatters, puddles, sprays.

No, it was only these two spots.

The knife was about three inches long with that soft luster that comes from

age. There was a pretty scrolling design etched on the handle. It looked

expensive.

Hattie had been here last week and this knife was had a feminine design.

The cutters I’d known had been like a cracked glass, able to break at any moment,

and Hattie didn’t seem like that. I put the knife in my pocket and walked up the

hill to the headmistress’s house.

Mrs. Monroe answered my knock. “Hello, Jane. Why don’t you look nice

today!”

“Hello, Mrs. Monroe.” Once again I was struck by how dark the interior of

the house was. I wondered why they turned on lamps instead of opening the

drapes.

“Lucky is in the boys’ study. Go upstairs, turn right and go all the way

down the hall.”

As I walked upstairs, the penknife in my pocket hit my thigh. At the top of

the stairs was a mirror. I took a quick look and saw that the breeze had mussed

my hair. I smoothed it down and took a deep breath before walking on.

My footsteps were muffled by a thick woven rug, in shades of dark reds and

browns, the color of drying blood and dead leaves. The door at the end of the hall

was open, and I walked into a large corner room.

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Windows looked out on tall shadowy pines crowding the house. There

were long desks beneath each window, and the wall closest to the door had floorto-ceiling bookcases. The back of a long blue sofa faced me. Opposite the sofa

was a dark blue leather chair and an ottoman.

“Lucky?” I said.

His blond head popped up from the sofa back. “Hey, Jane. Come on in.”

His head dropped back out of sight.

I went round the sofa and saw Lucky lying on his back, tossing a baseball

from hand to hand.

Sitting on the ottoman, I said, “You have your own study?”

“I’d rather have a home theater,” he said. “Mom thinks the bigger the

screen, the smaller the brain.”

I smiled and waited, hoping he would continue our conversation of the day

before.

He swung his long legs down and sat up. “I guess we better get to chem.”

I tried not to show my disappointment as I followed him to one of the long

desks. We reviewed his previous week’s work with metric units of mass and

volume and prepped for his next chapter on the physical properties of matter. He

kept up easily with the problems.

“You don’t need my help,” I blurted.

“I do need you, Jane,” he said, putting down his pencil and turning to me.

“I mean, you don’t need me to explain. You can do all this on your own.”

His blue eyes gazed at me for tortuous seconds before saying, “You smell

nice.”

I flushed and I kept my eyes on his.

He took my hand and said, “I can do the chemistry on my own, but I’ll do

better if you keep me on track. I need someone beside me for support, someone I

can confide in who won’t judge me. Don’t you want to be that person?”

My breathing quickened. “Is this what you meant about using me?”

“I’m saying that I want you to be there for me. To be my friend and my…

and more. I want you to be loyal to me and to stay with me through anything.”

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“I don’t know what you mean, Lucky,” I said with frustration. “Why can’t

you just be direct and tell me if you want me for a friend, or more and what

exactly?”

“More.”

My heart raced, but I was still confused and cautious. “A girlfriend?” I

said, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t laugh in my face.

“Girlfriends are temporary,” he said seriously. His grip on my hand

tightened. “Will you be loyal to me, Jane?”

“I still know what you want, Lucky, but I’ll be loyal to you so long as you

are deserving of loyalty.”

He smiled and lifted my hand and then turned it over. He bent down and

kissed my wrist, his lips soft and moist.

“I knew I could count on you,” he said. “You won’t go away and leave me,

will you?”

What a strange question. “Where would I go?”

We both jumped at the sounds down the hall. I leaned away from Lucky as

Jack came in. He looked from one of us to the other.

Lucky lifted his chin. “What is it
now
, Jack?”

Jack gave me a look that made me feel as if he’d caught us doing something

terrible. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, then turned and left.

Lucky stood and took my hand, pulling me up. “You need more red meat

in you. I want to keep you healthy.”

I couldn’t help smiling at him because he was so beautiful and now I knew

that he wanted me.
How
exactly he wanted me didn’t matter as much as his need

for me.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“Students are expected to uphold Birch Grove’s ethical, legal and moral

standards both on campus and off-campus. Disciplinary action will be taken

against any student who threatens the mental or physical well-being against

any other person.”

Birch Grove
Student Handbook

MRS. MONROE
had made roast beef, so raw that I asked for the end of the

roast, which was browned and savory.

It was an uncomfortably quiet meal. Jack pushed his food around on his

plate. Mr. Monroe stared off again, distracted. He finished his meat and filled his

glass with red wine as he had throughout the meal, and I wondered if he drank

this much every night.

As I helped clear away the dishes, Mrs. Monroe said, “Jane, your essay was

quite an improvement. I was glad to read your spirited analysis of the story.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’ll get it back with my comments tomorrow. Your structure is sound,

though.”

After dinner, Lucky offered to walk me back home. Once we were in the

grove, he swung an arm over my shoulders. It could have been just friendly, but I

wanted the walk to last forever.

He paused at the amphitheatre. “I like this place,” he said. “Sometimes I

come here at night to chill.”

“Hattie likes it here, too,” I said as I bent to touch a cool marble bench.

“All the girls do. They think it’s romantic. I bet Mary Violet would say

so.”

“I never know what crazy thing she’ll say.”

“She’s an attention-whore,” he said.

I was taken aback and said, “That’s really harsh and unfair. MV likes to

make others happy, which isn’t selfish. It’s generous. She’s one of the nicest

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people I’ve ever met.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said. “I meant, like, she’s an extrovert.”

I looked at him to see if he was just backtracking because I’d reacted, or if

he was being sincere. He smiled at me and looked earnest and kicked at dry

leaves as we began to walk again.

When we reached the cottage, I hoped he might come in. He faced me and

I couldn’t breathe anymore. Then he brushed my hair back and his mouth went to

the side of my throat. He put an arm around my waist drawing me close.

I arched my neck back, astonished by his mouth on my skin, thrilled by the

feel of his body against mine, and I closed my eyes.

When he nipped my throat with his teeth, my first reflex was to jump away.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked anxiously.

“You surprised me.” And made me nervous and excited and confused and

unsure.

He kept his arm around my waist. “Jane, don’t tell anyone what I said to

you before, about us.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Everyone gossips here. Some of the girls will be jealous because they’ve

been after me and they’ll be total bitches to you. Once people get to know you,

we can be more open about our…”

“Our what?”

He paused and considered then added, “About us. See ya.”

I stood there stunned. He’d said girlfriends were temporary, but hadn’t his

kiss, even though it was on my neck, meant something?

It had to me. It
must
have to him.

I played his words and the kiss – and the nip --over and over in my head.

Before I could forget, I took out the composition book and wrote down everything

Lucky had said and done.

I was about to hide the book in the laundry room with my cash when I

realized that I should probably write down Jack’s weird behavior, too.

All through evening, I imagined things I could have said, things Lucky

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could have said, the ways we could have touched each other. Then I thought of

his hostility to Jack and the crude way he’d spoken about Mary Violet. He

couldn’t have been aware of how thoughtless he seemed.

My biggest question was,
why me?
Of all the hundreds of girls here at

Birch Grove --talented, beautiful, rich girls --why had Lucien Monroe chosen me

as a special friend? And I thought, maybe Lucky has a secret that he can’t share

with anyone he knows. But a foster kid would understand because we’ve been

through it all.

When I was undressing for bed, something fell out of my jeans and thudded

onto the floor. I’d forgotten all about the silver penknife.

On Monday, I asked Hattie if we could talk for a minute. We stepped into

an empty hall, near the chapel. I pulled the silver penknife from my pocket of my

school blazer and showed her it to her.

“Hattie, I found this at the amphitheatre.”

Hattie took it from me with a smile. “I must have dropped it when was out

there. It was my great-grandmother’s.”

“I don’t have to be worried, do I, Hattie? Why were there spots of blood on

the bench?”

“You think I’m a cutter, don’t you?”

“If you are, I’d like to help in any way I can.”

“I’m not.” She rolled up her sleeves, revealing flawless skin so pale that

the blue veins showed clearly on her wrists. “See.” Then she hiked up her skirt,

showing off her slim perfect legs. “Not a mark. I don’t even have scars.”

“Why were there spots of blood?”

“I took the knife out for protection. Pretty silly since this is the safest place

in the world. I was playing with it and I nicked my finger.” She held up her

forefinger. “All better now.”

I smiled. “Sorry. I had to ask, in case.”

“It’s okay. I asked when I thought something was bothering you. We’ve

got to watch each other’s backs,” she said. “I wanted to tell you, there’s a party

on Friday at the country club. Jack’s band is playing. Do you want to come?”

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“Sure.”

“Great, Constance and MV are coming.” She began to walk back to the

main hallway and added casually, “Lucky will be there, too.”

Being happy was strange and wonderful. My mind was filled with thoughts

of Lucky, the way he looked and felt, the things he’d said and done, and there was

little room for anything else. Despite my promise not to say anything, I was

dying to tell someone, to get another opinion on what he’d meant.

I came close to telling Hattie when we went for lunch at the Free Pop.

Constance and Mary Violet had gone to the drugstore to buy mints because

Constance had had a garlicy salad.

Hattie said, “You’ve been smiling all day. You like it here, don’t you?”

“Getting away from the foster home was enough to make me happy, but

having the cottage, such a great school, and everything else… It’s more than I

could have asked for.”

“You haven’t had any more incidents, no strange messages?”

“No, everything’s been good. Better than good. Fantastic.”

After homeroom on Thursday, Mr. Mason stopped me on my way out and

said, “Jane, would you come see me after school today?”

“Is it about my work, sir?” I asked.

“No, you’re doing great. I thought we should chat since I’m your

homeroom teacher and you’re new.” He took off his glasses and polished them

with a square of white cloth.

“We have to put the
Weekly
to bed this afternoon,” I said. “Ms. Chu said