3 likes
0 comments
12:13 PM, Thursday, December 17th
“Ugh! Caroline, this is NOT what I signed up for!”
Caroline’s muffled reply came from under the large wooden desk, likely original to the old school. “They aren’t my texts, Madeline.”
A just-too-loud metal ting leapt out from under the desk like a cat in an alley. Madeline startled, then slunk deeper into the empty secretary’s office, ducking just behind the drawn window shade of the heavy wooden door.
“I’ve got the key. Do you want to leave? We can leave, then.”
“Ugh… That’s not what I said. How did you get into the box anyway?”
“I used to be a TA.”
Madeline turned from her post at the door and looked at Caroline with a half-smile, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, is that funny to you?” Caroline crawled out from under the desk. “It wasn’t funny last year when you failed your chemistry test and were ineligible for nationals.”
“I didn’t fail.”
“No, you didn’t—because, luckily, there was a TA who was able to interpret some of the responses more… favorably.”
Caroline looked at Madeline across the room as the realization straightened Madeline’s eyebrows.
“Whatever. Let’s just get the phone. Mrs. Fitzgerald’s lunch is almost over. Did Victoria delete the messages on her phone?”
“No, Madeline. I skipped my lunch period and chaperoned you into Mr. Philips’s office, but I overlooked the messages on Victoria’s phone. Yes, I watched her delete them in homeroom.”
Caroline watched as Madeline quickly fingerprinted: swipe, tap, tap, tap, swipe.
“Okay, they’re gone.”
“Just the messages, right? Not the chain?”
“Yes, just the messages.”
“No, not in your pocket—put the phone back on his desk.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Closer to the files. It was closer to the files.”
“Oh. Right.”
“You know… maybe next time it would be better to just not send the texts in the first place.”
7:42 PM, Thursday, December 17th
“What do you think? You ready? Last bio test we’ll take,” Caroline said, sliding her textbook and notebooks into her book bag.
“Yup, I’m ready,” Elizabeth said, opening the dishwasher.
“Sink’s fine.”
Elizabeth put the snack plate and glass into the deep island sink and grabbed a Spindrift from the under-counter soda fridge. “What I’m not ready for are the freshmen I have for the yearbook.”
Caroline smirked. “Oh yeah?”
“I mean last year. Dave.”
“And you had Beth freshman year.”
“Yes, there was Beth, too. I get that Digital Media and Publishing is a skate credit for some of them, but it’s usually, you know, balanced out.”
“And not this year?”
“No! My gosh, Care—Lizzy! Lizzy bought the wrong computer twice. I called her mom, Care. I had to call a mom to tell her what to buy. It was horrifying.”
Caroline spun in the barstool. “Well, what’re you going to do?”
“Um, passive-aggressively nag them until we have a printable yearbook, clearly.”
They both smiled.
“And you? When is the tournament?”
“End of next month. The squad is good, though. Even the freshmen.”
“That’s clear. I mean—nationals again.”
“Last one. For me, anyway.”
“You okay with that?”
“For sure. Just waiting, you know? The scouts will be there. I talked to Tracy—she’s the scout for USC. She basically told me as long as I don’t break a leg, I have a spot on their squad.”
“Well, cheers to that,” Elizabeth said, raising her sparkling water can.
“Cheers to that,” Caroline replied.
Elizabeth glanced at her phone on the table and clutched it. “Speaking of the squad—Madeline and Victoria were texting about me again.”
Caroline looked up at Elizabeth. “They text about each other. I’m sure they text about me behind my back, too. It’s not personal.”
“This one was different, Care. They were going to try and post on my Insta when I wasn’t at my desk. Wait until I left my laptop open.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I was at the boys’ game on Tuesday and got a photo. They didn’t even notice I was behind them for like ten minutes.”
“I mean, that’s not cool. But I don’t think they have the bandwidth to go through with it, you know what I mean?”
“Not ‘cool,’ Care. It’s a little more serious than not ‘cool.’ I’ve been locking my computer all the time now.”
“Okay—yeah. Wrong choice in words. So then, what?”
“I’m probably going to show the picture to Mr. Philips tomorrow. I thought I wanted to tell you first.”
“Eli—why don’t you let me talk to them instead?”
“Shouldn’t it have been dead last time you talked to them, too?”
“Yeah, okay. But we’re so close. Five months.”
“No, you’re close, Caroline. What you mean is nationals. That’s what’s close.”
“Yes, okay—that too. But the end is close, too!”
“Caroline, this is more than just your stupid tournament. This is my life, too!”
“It’s not just a tournament, Eli. Tracy says we need to place. I need Madeline to place. She’s our flyer—she’s in the friggin’ middle of the pyramid!”
Elizabeth frowned. “You said she already basically gave you a spot?”
“She did. But if we place, then she said there’s money, too. A scholarship.”
“Another scholarship? Seriously? Your Benz out there is more—”
“It’s not paid off,” Caroline said, glancing toward the tall double-entry doors. “I don’t actually know how my mom’s making the payments.”
Elizabeth frowned at her. “I didn’t know.”
Caroline’s face tightened. She uncrossed her legs and looked back at Elizabeth. “Your grades are even better than mine. How much did you get? Compared to tuition, I mean.”
“Not enough,” Elizabeth said eventually. “Enough to cover maybe half. I’m waiting to hear back from a few more.”
Caroline nodded. “I need the sports money.”
Elizabeth stood and stuffed her notebooks into her backpack. “Damn it, Caroline.” She yanked the zipper shut. “My parents are going to pay for my school—anything that’s not covered. I get that that’s a privilege, and I’m truly sorry about the situation here. But I—”
“I know, Eli. It’s fine. Really, it is. You need to do what you need to do. You know I’ll be fine.” Caroline regained her composure with a smile. “I always am.”
Eli shook her head. “We all know if there’s one person who’s fine, it’s Caroline. I’ve gotta go.”
Caroline locked the entry door and sank down onto the couch.
“Shit.”
9:53 AM, Friday, December 18th
Mr. Philips placed the box down on the table next to a hodgepodge of tape, streamers, and flyers.
“All right, Caroline—what else do you need?”
“I think that’s it, Mr. Philips! We’ll be finishing up here by lunch.”
Mr. Philips picked up one of the Knights’ Winter Sports Fundraiser flyers—a “donate here” QR code beneath a photo of the boys’ basketball team. He grabbed a similar version with last year’s cheer squad holding their bronze trophy.
“I’m proud of you girls. You’ve really worked hard—stepped up—the past few years. You’re going to do great again this year.”
“Thanks, Mr. Philips. The team has been really strong. We’ve just really clicked.”
“Yes, your cohort has been strong—and you’ve also had a strong leader.” He set the flyers down and smiled.
Sheepishly, Caroline muttered, “Uh, well, thanks—but I think we’ve mostly just been talented.” Her face flushed.
He laughed and started to walk out of the gym. “I think you’ve helped more than you know, Caroline.”
“Wait—Mr. Philips. I did have one more question you might be able to help with.”
“Sure. What’s up?” Mr. Philips said, hands casually in the pockets of his light gray pleated pants. His sincere face was framed by elegant metal glasses, salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed. He always wore a suit combination and a pair of light brown dress shoes, polished to a luster.
“Well, the catering for tonight was more than we had budgeted…”
“And?”
“And I haven’t gotten the big athlete posters printed yet. Actually, I haven’t even finished updating the photos. Victoria has a bruise I’d like to have touched up. Do you know of anywhere that does good Photoshop work on a budget?”
Mr. Philips grinned as he turned to walk away. “Just get with Elizabeth. She’ll be able to handle both, no problem.”
Caroline turned back toward the greeting table to finish the final decorations. Madeline and Victoria came through the doors as she reached it, five large poster tubes tucked under each of their arms.
Victoria reached the table first. “Where do we want the athlete posters, Care Bear?” Her Maui Jim aviators extended slightly beyond her pretty face, reflecting the spectacle of the gym.
“Over there under the bleachers. We’ll put them up later, when we come in for rehearsal.”
“Well, we can put them up now—”
“No. Later.”
Madeline arrived just after, and Caroline stopped her at the table. “How’d your conversation with Mr. Philips go?”
“Great. Quick.”
“What’d he say?”
“Not much. I showed him the chain with Victoria. He read a few messages, looked at me, and said, ‘That’s everything?’ I said, ‘That’s everything.’”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it. Why?”
“She has a photo.”
“What? How? He didn’t mention it.”
“He didn’t seem like he was waiting for more.”
“No—he said, ‘Thanks,’ and was nice like he always is. Said, ‘Don’t worry too much. I’ll talk to Elizabeth on Monday.’”
Caroline frowned. “I don’t think that’s good. Not yet. Not until we know if Elizabeth shows him the photo.”
5:15 PM, Friday December 18th
Mr. Philips entered the gym first, followed closely by Mrs. Fitzgerald. They walked through the round, elegantly decorated, dining tables arranged throughout the gym until they reached the elevated stage where the girls were wrapping up rehearsal.
Mrs. Fitzgerald looked everywhere but forward. “Girls—oh! This is gorgeous. Good job. Good girls.” She bumped into one of the chairs.
A chorus of “Thanks, Mrs. Fitzgerald” rose from the stage as the team dispersed to find their parents lining the perimeter, awkwardly searching for assigned seats.
“I agree,” Mr. Philips said to Caroline, Madeline, and Victoria, still onstage. “I think we—”
He was cut short as the gym doors burst open with a loud thwack.
Through them, Elizabeth. Face in a scowl, slinking briskly through the tables toward the girls, Mrs. Fitzgerald, Mr. Philips and the girls’ parents who were just getting to the stage. Caroline could make out the slight upturned purse of a grin.
“Shit.” Caroline muttered.
When Elizabeth had strode most of the way she called out to Madeline, “Pretty smooth Madeline. Deleting the texts.”.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Elizabeth.” Madeline stepped back, positioning herself just behind her mom and Caroline.
“Oh No? Then–”
Mr. Philips: “Elizabeth, let’s take this i–”
Elizabeth: “You know exactly what Iu’m talking about you liar!”
Mrs. Fitsgerald: “Elizabeth!”
Madeline’s mom: “Mr. Philips, what is going on?”
Elizabeth: “Oh, Mrs. Quintin. I’ll tell you what’s going on! Your daughter is trying to blackmail me!”
Mr. Philips: “Ok. Ok. Elizabeth thought she saw–”
Elizabeth erupts: “Thought I saw! Good! This is exactly why I took the photo.” She starts fumbling for her phone.
Caroline leans over to Madeline and whispers something in her ear. Madeline’s body perks up like a flower in summer.
Elizabeth gets the phone open, hands quivering, holds it up to the adults.
Madeline interjects, “Aren’t you like the schools photoshop master?”
Elizabeth froze, mouth open.
Madeline continues in the silence, “And why didn’t you show this to Mr. Philips before you had him take my phone and before he found out you were lying?”
Mr. Philips looks at Elizabeth with a furrowed brow, “It’s not ideal to produce evidence after the fact, Elizabeth.” He returned to the phone, looking closer.
Elizabeth stuttered and looked at Caroline. Her eyes wide with panic.
Caroline: “Don’t look at me! I have no part in this!”
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.