Coldhearted (9781311888433) (4 page)

“
I’ve been told something
very disturbing,” Principal Jennings said, staring at Mrs.
Featherstone, still trembling, being held by Mason.

Ah, the information superhighway was
assuredly built in emotionless 0s and 1s.

“
It’s nothing,” Mason said,
echoing Edie from earlier.

Principal Jennings advanced with a soft look
on her face, and then she went to Mrs. Featherstone, who was
slouching in her chair, and placed a gentle hand on the trembling
teacher’s shoulder. Mason retreated and stood next to Edie.

“
Mary?” Principal Jennings
said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Mrs. Featherstone dabbed at
her eyes again. “I don’t know what happened, Jackie. I was about to
discuss
Hamlet
,
and…” She trailed off, gesturing with her tissue at the
blackboard.

Principal Jennings scrutinized the clean,
black surface. Then her eyes shifted toward Edie. “Why’d you erase
it?” She didn’t sound accusatorial, just curious.

“
I-I didn’t want Mrs.
Featherstone to get into trouble,” Edie said. “She…she didn’t mean
to write those words.”

Principal Jennings looked just as confused as
Edie, Mason, and Mrs. Featherstone.

Mrs. Featherstone spoke up. “But…if I didn’t
mean to write those words, then…why did I?”

“
Come on, Mary.” Principal
Jennings helped Mrs. Featherstone to stand and kept a guiding hand
on her back. “I’ll get Russell to watch over your next
class.”

“
Wh-where are we go-going?”
Mrs. Featherstone stuttered, worried. She wrapped her arms around
her stomach, as if she were sick. And she was shivering,
cold.

“
My office, Mary,” the
principal said in a soft voice. “It’s just to talk. Come on now,
it’s all right.”

As they were leaving, Mrs. Featherstone
looked back over her shoulder at Edie and Mason. “Thanks for...”
She trailed off, not knowing what to thank them for.

Principal Jennings now turned toward them,
and said, “Thanks for staying with her until I could arrive, but go
on to class now, okay?” It was more of a polite request than an
administrative order.

But Edie nodded, along with Mason. Edie
watched Principal Jennings and Mrs. Featherstone exit into the
hallway, and then they disappeared. By now, Mrs. Featherstone’s
third period students were arriving, their mouths frowning with
disappointment at the blackboard they’d heard so much about, now
clean of insults.

That was Edie’s cue to exit. Mason followed
her out. Gently, he clasped her hand and took her aside, near the
lockers. All the girls were staring at her and Mason. Edie ignored
them. She had more important things to worry about than silly
jealousy.

“
What in the hell happened
back there?” he asked, as if she had all the answers.

Edie shook her head, clueless. “I don’t know.
She’s never acted weird before, right?”

“
Never,” he said. “It’s
like…it’s like she had no control over herself.”

“
Do you…do you think she’ll
be fired?”

Mason sighed. “I doubt it. I mean, she didn’t
write anything really offensive.” He stared into Edie’s eyes.
“Earlier, when we talked on our way to school, I just said what I
said because I didn’t want to argue. But I was wrong, Edie, and you
were right. Weird things do happen in Grimsby.” He narrowed his
eyes at her. “Nothing weird had ever happened until you arrived.”
He said it so softly, but it still stung.

Edie was fighting back tears. She jerked her
hand out of his grasp and ran away. She heard him calling her name,
but she ignored him, and dashed into the library. No one was there.
She hid in a corner, where two bookshelves met, and sat on the
dirty, carpeted floor, finally letting her tears fall.

“
I’m sorry.”

She looked up through two watery pools and
saw Mason standing in front of her. Then she lowered her head and
using the heels of her hands, dabbed at her wet eyes, trying to
clear her vision.

“
Edie?” a soft voice called
out.

She looked up again to see Mason sitting
beside her. “It’s not my fault,” she told him.

“
I know and I’m sorry,” he
said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean for it
to come out that way. I’m glad you’re here.” He gave her a
warmhearted smile. “I really am.”

He clasped her hand and she squeezed back,
welcoming his hot touch. She was starting to feel better when
something hard hit her head from above. She thought it must have
been an anvil from the skull-splitting impact, but in fact, it was
a book. Mason let go of her and she was instantly cold again.

“
What the...?” Mason shot up
and looked around. “Punks,” he muttered, and then resumed his seat
next to her.

Edie was gently massaging the sore spot on
her head, amazed she wasn’t gushing blood. “Who was it?” she asked,
sounding coherent.

“
No one,” Mason
said.

She stopped massaging and lowered her hand.
“Then why’d you say ‘punks?’”

Mason shrugged. “I’d just assumed. Who else
could it be?” He reached over and laid a gentle, warm hand atop her
head. “You okay?” He started massaging her scalp, making her feel
drowsy and excited at the same time.

“
Mmmkay,” she moaned,
sounding like a grunting cavewoman.

If Mason noticed, he didn’t say anything.

After he’d thoroughly
massaged her wound, he stopped and picked up the book that’d
fallen—
The Ghosts of Grimsby: Thirteen
Tales to Scare the Sh!t Out of You
.

He gave her a playfully wicked smile. “Wanna
check it out?”

Feeling better, she playfully shoved his hand
away. “No thanks. Real life is scary enough.”

Curious, Mason started flipping the pages,
got halfway through, and then jerked his hand back, gasping in pain
at the same time. The book fell open on the floor at an illustrated
page that showed the figure of Death represented as the Grim
Reaper.

“
What happened?” Edie asked
Mason, worried.

Mason held out his hand. The tip of his
forefinger was bleeding—a lot. The page that he’d sliced it on,
along the edge, was stained with his blood. The Grim Reaper seemed
to be smiling in demonic delight.

“
Clumsy,” Mason scolded
himself. Then he cursed. “It’s really gushing,” he observed,
sounding panicked, as he put pressure on the wound with his other
hand.

“
What’s going on?” snapped
an urgent, but hushed voice.

They turned to see the librarian with her
beaky nose, staring down at them. Before she could insinuate that
Mason and Edie had been doing anything other than touching books,
Edie showed her Mason’s bloody finger.

“
Go to the nurse,” she
implored, grimacing, as she waved them off. “Shoo,
shoo.”

Edie wrapped her scarf around Mason’s finger,
trying to stem the bleeding. “Mason, you should stay away from me,”
she warned.

They’d left the library. Now they were making
their way to the main office, but he stopped, wide-eyed at her
warning. She encouraged him to keep going. He did as the blood
threatened to drop on the waxed floor. She stole a glance at his
face as they continued their journey. He was wearing a pained
expression. She didn’t know if it was from his wounded finger or
his wounded heart.

“
Why?” he finally asked, but
stared ahead, as he quickly moved.

“
I’m bad luck,” she replied,
as they made their way across the lobby.

Mason stopped again and shook his head. “No,
you’re not, Edie.” He was staring into her eyes. “If you hadn’t
been there, well, I might have bled to death.” He smiled,
joking.

Edie smiled back even though she was
seriously worried. What had made that book fall? Why had Mason
received such a terrible cut from that page?

She kept her hand over his, the scarf in
between, applying pressure. She could see the dark of his blood
staining her already red scarf.

“
Sorry,” he said, nodding to
her ruined scarf.

“
Don’t worry about it. I
have plenty. I bought like a hundred of them, knowing I’d be moving
up north. I wanted to be extra prepared.”

“
All red?” he asked, raising
an eyebrow.

Edie shook her head. “No, different
colors.”

She encouraged him to keep walking, fearful
of him losing his finger to infection. The worry may have been
farfetched, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Finally, they arrived at the main office.

Mason halted and turned toward her. “I think
you look good in red. It matches your blonde hair.” He reached out
with his uninjured hand and ran his fingers through her loose,
natural curls. He smiled. “You look like Barbie.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she
half-joked, “I think you’ve lost a lot of blood.” It had to be the
only explanation.
I’m not that
pretty
, she thought self-deprecatingly.
“C’mon. Let’s get you patched up,” she encouraged,
again.

****

They’d seen the nurse. She’d cleaned Mason’s
wound, determined (to Edie’s relief) that it hadn’t needed
stitches, wrapped his finger in white gauze, and then told them to
sit and wait, before departing.

So, now they were sitting and waiting inside
the nurse’s station while paperwork was being filled out.
Apparently, everything had to be recorded around here. Edie assumed
it had to do with avoiding a lawsuit.

Mason and Edie were side by side on an old,
leather sofa. She’d already thrown her scarf away into the medical
wastebasket. Her neck didn’t feel that cold anymore to need it.
Neither did her hands and head. Mason had been right. Edie was
getting used to Grimsby. Or maybe it was the fact that she was
sitting next to someone with the temperature of the sun.

“
Are you always this hot?”
she asked innocently.

He smirked, showing his dimples. “Yes, Edie,
yes, I am,” he said in an overly-confident voice, humoring her.

She giggled, despite her embarrassment.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean…I was just wondering why were so hot…to the
touch?”

“
Oh.” Mason shrugged. “I
don’t know.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “So…you don’t think I’m
hot-hot?”

She panicked, not knowing what to say. She
was saved when Mason’s cell phone rang.

“
Hello?” he answered. “Okay.
Really? Huh. That’s weird. Well, if nothing’s wrong with
it…yeah…yeah…okay…great…thanks. Bye.”

“
What was that about?” she
asked, after he’d ended the call.

Mason pocketed his phone. “That was my dad. I
called him earlier, asked if he could go and get my truck, to see
if he could get it to start, and well, he said there was no problem
with it, cranked right up. He’s bringing it by the school.”

“
I’m glad your truck’s all
right.”

“
Me too. Don’t know why it
conked out like that, but…ah, well, it’s running smooth now.” Mason
turned toward Edie and smiled. “Now…getting back to my
hotness—”

“
She’s off her meds,” said a
feminine voice from the next room.

It effectively cut Mason off, and Edie was
relieved, feeling nervous about where their conversation was
heading, afraid of what she’d say, which would undoubtedly be
embarrassing.

“
Meds?” That was Principal
Jennings’s voice. She sounded concerned.

“
Mary has been on
antidepressants for the past year now,” said the first female
voice. There was a slight pause, and then she continued,
“Apparently, she hasn’t been taking them for the past couple of
weeks.”

“
And that’s why she wrote
‘fat girl’ all over the blackboard for her class to see?” Principal
Jennings asked, sounding skeptical.

“
What other explanation can
there be?” It was a statement, not a question.

The unknown woman had a superior tone in her
voice, unused to being challenged, but not haughty or rigid.

“
Mary’s a great teacher,”
Principal Jennings praised. “I don’t want to get rid of her
over…something minor as this. It’s not like she’s hurt anyone,
threatened anyone. Aside from this, she has a spotless record at
Grimsby High.”

“
I agree, Jackie. I’ve
talked to Mary. She realizes now how important it is to take her
medication and what happens when you don’t take it. She fully
understands and assures me it won’t happen again. I see no reason
for her to be dismissed or even be put on leave. But you know,
Mary, this has to go in her file. It’s the rules.”

There was a long pause, and then Principal
Jennings said, “I understand. Thank you, Abbie.”

Edie could hear their sharp
heels
click-clacking
against the floor, walking away. Yet she wasn’t taking any
chances of being overheard.

So she leaned over to Mason, and whispered,
“Who’s this Abbie? She sounds important.”

“
She is,” Mason whispered
back. “Abigail Winters, the superintendent.”

“
Does the superintendent
usually stay at Grimsby High?”

Mason shook his head. “I guess she was
already here for some other reason.”

Edie thought back over what the two women had
discussed. To Mason, still keeping her voice low, she said,
“So…Mrs. Featherstone hasn’t been taking her medication. But…would
that be the reason for what she’d written, over and over? She
seemed really shocked by it all.”