I take her the long way round, leading us through shadows and quiet hallways. It’s like I’m trying to shake whatever was lurking behind us. Chris doesn’t seem to mind; she just holds my hand and lets me guide her.
About thirty minutes later, we’re creeping up the back stairs of the dorms. The dance will wrap up in the next half hour or so. If we get busted now, it won’t be quite so bad, but I release her hand before stepping into the hallway.
We shuffle past closed doors and turn into our corridor. My mind jumps to things we could do while we wait for the dance to end, but the thoughts quickly die as reality kicks in.
Dean Hancock has probably noticed that I’m gone, so he’ll no doubt be searching the school for me. I need to have a solid excuse ready and am halfway through formulating one when we reach Chris’s door and the smell hits me like a battering ram.
“Gross!” I pinch my nose and grimace.
Chris makes a face, sticking out her tongue before coving her mouth and nose. “What is that?”
I shake my head at the muffled question and push her door open.
My stomach churns with bile as I take in the absolute ruin that is her bedroom.
#29:
A Shit Storm
Christiana
“Holy shit,” I murmur, my tongue thick and barely functioning.
“You got that right.” Trey sighs, his face flaring with anger.
Pinching my nose a little tighter, I gaze around my room. Three cow patties are lined up on my bed, all smashed open and oozing. The walls have been painted with shit. I’m guessing cow, but there could be a little dog in there too. It’s like someone made a bucket of runny poo and waltzed in here with a paintbrush, flicking it across the walls and destroying the only place in this school where I can be myself.
Tears burn, but anger won’t let them fall. Rage is frothing in my belly and I have to lean against the doorframe to keep myself from falling.
“What am I gonna do?”
“Mr. Calloway!” Dean Hancock thunders down the hall. “And Mr. Lorden, I see! You are not supposed to be up here during…” His words disappear as he reaches us and gets hit with the vile smell.
His sharp nose wrinkles, his wide mouth pulling into a grimace. “What is going on in here?”
I glance up at his thundering face, half expecting him to blame it on me. But there must be something in my expression—or just plain logic, I guess—that makes his face soften with a look of sympathy.
“Do you have any idea who may have done this?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Ivan the Terrible.”
He rolls his eyes at my nickname, or maybe the fact he knows I’m right. Even so, he still mutters, “Do you have any proof?”
“Of course not,” I snap. “Last time I saw him, Ivan was at the dance.”
Dean Hancock’s mouth forms a grim line. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, we’ll move you to a different room until we can get this cleaned up.”
I go still, my eyes locking with Trey’s for a terrifying beat.
“Uh, sir, you know, Chris could bunk with us for a couple of nights. We could put a mattress on the floor, or…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s an open room downstairs.”
“But—”
“I’m not going to stand here in this stench arguing with you, Mr. Calloway. Now, I know you and Chris have become friends these past few weeks but his parents insisted on him having his own room. Headmaster Williams promised them he wouldn’t be sharing, and I won’t be breaking that when there’s a perfectly good room downstairs.”
Trey huffs. “But it’s next to Ivan’s!”
The dean grits his teeth as if summoning some extra calm before replying. “I know you think he is responsible for this, but we have very strict rules about students entering each other’s rooms…especially after lights out. Now, Ivan is not stupid. Unlike you, he has never been caught outside his room after curfew, so I don’t think Chris has anything to worry about.” Standing tall, he pulls his shoulders back, ready for battle. “I will be investigating this matter very seriously and from past experience, you should know that anyone with half a brain is on his best behavior when I’m looking for a culprit.”
With a heavy sigh, Trey leans against the wall and looks away from the dean.
“Mr. Lorden, follow me. Mr. Calloway is going to go and find me a janitor.”
Trey and I share one more look of dread before he’s forced to do the dean’s bidding. I gaze up at Dean Hancock. He gives me a pointed look and tells me to hurry up.
I shuffle after him, my rage tempered by an overwhelming sense of foreboding. I can’t even explain it but there’s something about this walk downstairs that feels more like a death march.
#30:
Gone
Trey
I can’t sleep…again.
It took the janitors nearly three hours to clean up the room and it’s blocked off from entry until it’s been completely sterilized. All Chris’s stuff was taken down to her new room.