The Scarlet Letterman (10 page)

“Okay, you know something you’re not telling us,” Hana says. “I
know
you’re keeping something from us. So spill it.”

“Well…” I think it’s about time I fessed up about my initial thought that Heathcliff might be the stalker, but I just can’t seem to find the words.

“Wait, you know Hooded Sweatshirt Stalker!” Blade exclaims. “You know who he is and you haven’t told us!”

“Yeah, well, at least I
thought
I did,” I say. “I have a confession to make, and I think you guys had better sit down.”

Fourteen

They take the news
that Heathcliff is alive better than I thought.

“That maniac is on the loose and you didn’t tell us!” Blade shouts, throwing down her backpack to show how angry she is. Samir looks like he might faint, and Hana just shakes her head in silent disapproval. Since Heathcliff kidnapped the three of them and bound and gagged them, he’s not exactly among their top friends on MySpace.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I say.

“You mean you didn’t
want
to tell us,” Hana says, quietly. “You’re still protecting him.”

“I’m not…” I protest, but it’s useless. Hana doesn’t believe me.

“You realize he’s psychotic,” Blade says. This coming from my roommate with the pink hair and the lame Wiccan spells.

“He did save my life,” I point out. “Multiple times.”

“And he nearly killed all of us,” Samir says. This is also true.

“Not to mention destroy the world as we know it,” Hana points out.

“Yes, but he did end up saving everyone, and the world,” I say.

Hana sighs. “You’re still heavily under the influence of his bad-boy mojo,” she says sadly and shakes her head.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am.

“I thought you were over him,” Hana continues, looking frustrated. “Does Ryan know about him?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

“I just don’t understand how he’s still in this world,” Samir says. “I thought
Wuthering Heights
was destroyed.” Samir’s talking about the vault version of the book, the one that allowed Heathcliff to come into this dimension in the first place.

“A small part of it must have survived,” I say, not adding that the piece of a page from that book is in the locket I’m wearing around my neck. Given their reaction to the general news that Heathcliff is roaming the campus, it’s probably not a good idea to tell them I’m in possession of the one piece of paper that could send him back to his own world.

“I can’t believe you kept this from us,” Hana says, shaking her head. “We’ve got to tell Ms. W.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.

“You’re not objective on this subject,” Samir says.

“I can’t believe you didn’t think to mention it,” Hana says. “And now look what’s happened. Heathcliff has probably kidnapped Coach H. Or worse, destroyed his book, and his soul along with it.”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” I say.

“There you go defending him again!” Samir smacks his forehead as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I think we may have to vote you out of the LITs,” Blade says.

“Since when is that an actual club?”

“Since I made T-shirts,” Blade says, showing us all the navy blue Bard T-shirts she’s gotten from the bookstore. In silver permanent marker she’s written “LITs Society” on the sleeve.

“You don’t expect us to actually wear these,” I say.

“Well, not you, since you’re on probation,” Blade says. “But the rest of us, yes.”

“Guys, listen, I was going to tell you…” I start, feeling hopeless. They’re all furious at me. And, I suppose, for good reason.

The three of them just glare at me, disappointment in their eyes.

“Whatever,” Hana says finally, turning away from me. “Come on, guys, let’s go see Ms. W.”

“Let me go with you,” I say as Samir and Blade start to leave.

“I think you’ve done enough already,” Hana says, giving me a sad look as she follows Samir and Blade, leaving me alone on the library steps.

It’s true that I should’ve told them all about Heathcliff. But how? I knew how they all felt about him, and I knew they’d want to tell the faculty, and the faculty, well, they will just want to find a way to banish him. And I guess I just feel like everyone else has taken an unfairly harsh view of Heathcliff. He is the one who saved us all, and it’s like they just won’t see that. Granted, I’m not completely naïve. I know he has a bad side. But I also know he has a good side, too.

In the second half of
Wuthering Heights,
he spends the entire time avenging himself on everyone he thinks has ever done him wrong, and he does so in a vicious, merciless way. But his true love had just died, so he had cause — sort of.

So I understand why people distrust him. But I just see him in a different way. Maybe it is his bad-boy mojo, or the fact that I’m related to Catherine, his true love, but I don’t know. I see something different in him.

A week passes and Hana, Blade, and Samir continue to freeze me out, no matter how often I try to apologize. I’m not sure how to make amends, and the three of them don’t want to tell me, either.

I want to tell Ryan what’s going on, but I can’t without telling him the secrets of Bard, which I swore to the faculty I wouldn’t do. Not to mention, Ryan would outright laugh at me if I told him the truth — that Heathcliff is a fictional character from 1847.

And even if I left out the supernatural parts, it’s not like Ryan wants to hear about Heathcliff. He’s been semijealous of Heathcliff since last semester. If I even bring up Heathcliff’s name, Ryan will change the subject. So if I told him I’d been hiding the fact that Heathcliff is still hanging around Bard, I’m sure he’d have the same reaction as Hana, Blade, and Samir did. The same or worse.

“So are you going to tell me what happened between you and your friends?” Ryan asks me as he walks me back to my dorm after dinner in a rare Parker-free moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like why they don’t talk to you anymore and avoid me?”

“We just had a fight.”

“About what?”

“I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Is it about Parker? Because I really am sorry, I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be responsible in case something does happen to her.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I say, waving my hand like I don’t care. And I’m surprised to find that I don’t actually care as much as I should. It’s annoying, yes, but I’ve got bigger problems on my plate right now. Like trying to figure out if Heathcliff is the Hooded Sweatshirt Stalker or not.

Ryan gives me a sidelong glance. “By the way, I talked to Derek, and he won’t be bothering you anymore.”

I glance at Ryan and feel a rush of warmth. He’s so
good.
Attentive and sweet and
good.

“What did you say to Derek?”

“Let’s just say he got the message. I know he’s a bit of a slime, but he’s not going to go anywhere near you.”

“Thanks, Ryan,” I say, and I mean it.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, waving his hand. “Now, come on, what’s going on with you and Hana?”

“Nothing. Just girl stuff.”

“And you and Samir?”

“Just drop it, okay?”

Ryan lets out a frustrated sigh, putting his hands into his shaggy hair. “Okay,
whatever
.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever’?”

“Nothing,” Ryan says, shrugging.

“No, go on.”

“It’s just that you get all upset about me not talking about…the car accident, but you have secrets, too. I mean, I’m not dumb. I know there’s something going on with you guys, and it’s something you don’t want to tell me. Why?”

“You just have to trust me,” I say. Hypocrite? Party of One? Since when is it okay for Ryan to have secrets, but not me? If he’s withholding information, then I can, too. It’s only fair.

“Fine, well, then you’ll just have to trust me, too, I guess,” Ryan says.

We stop in front of my dorm and eye each other. Normally this is the time that he’d try to steal a kiss. But tonight, both of us are in a mood.

“Well, guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says, not making eye contact with me. Then, before I can respond, he turns on his heel and starts walking back the other way, leaving me alone in front of my dorm door.

I wonder who else I’m going to manage to piss off this week. I seem to have a knack for it.

When I get back to my room, Blade is sleeping, as usual. That girl can sleep at all times of the day or night, even when she’s mad at me. I notice that despite the fact that we’re not currently on speaking terms, Blade has still managed to dip into my snack reserves. The stash of M&M’s and Doritos in my closet are decidedly low. Candy and snacks are prohibited on campus, but I managed to sneak some in from home.

I take a packet of M&M’s from my stash and then settle down at my desk to start studying. I’ve got two papers and a midterm exam coming up, and with all the Coach H drama, I haven’t started working on any of them.

As I start reading
The Crucible
and munching on M&M’s (green ones first!), I swear I hear a distant roar. I put down the candy and I listen again. Yep, that’s no bear growl out in the woods. That’s something else.

I have a sudden vision of those red eyes. Is it that…thing?

I jump up and head to the window. All I see is the pitch-black of the woods. Somewhere in the distance, a flash of lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating the trees, followed by a deep rumble of thunder.

And then, in the silence that follows, I hear the sound of tree branches cracking. My room is on the second floor, about twenty feet from the woods. I peer into the darkness, trying to make out what might be making those sounds. It could, I reason, be a bear. Not that monster thing. And then I shake myself. Since when is a bear
preferable
? It’s still a freaking bear.

Lightning flashes again and I see a great shadowy figure near the edge of the woods. At first, I can’t quite tell what it is, it’s just a dark blob. Then it starts to move. It walks like a cat. A really big cat. Correction: a really, really,
really
big cat. A cougar? I think I heard something about cougars being in the woods. But are they that big? It’s the size of a small Volkswagen Beetle.

It’s hunched over something. What is it doing? Smelling something? Eating? It’s hard to tell. A bolt of lightning flashes in the sky, making everything bright for a split second. Do I see stripes? But wait…it’s got something it its jaws.

Oh God.

I think that’s — is it someone’s tennis shoe?

Fifteen

I bolt from the
window and tumble on top of Blade.

“Wake
up
,” I hiss at her. “There’s something out there.”

Sleepily, Blade comes to. “Wha…?” she murmurs, rubbing her eyes.

“Outside. There’s, well, a cat. Or something bigger than that. A tiger, or a cougar, or I don’t know.”

“What are you
ranting
about?” Blade moans, falling back in her bed. I have to physically tug her out of bed and press her sleepy face up against the window. But by the time I do, the cat, or whatever it was, is gone.

“It was there, I swear.” I say. “Just a second ago. It had somebody’s shoe.”

Blade moans. “Great, well, when the ‘shoe monster’ comes back,
don’t
wake me, okay? And by the way, just for this, I am giving you
double
the silent treatment tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, but I
did
see something out there.”

“Silent treatment!” Blade shouts at me, then throws the covers over her head and rolls over, putting her back to me.

The next morning, I go straight out before breakfast and check out the line of trees by our dorm. There are paw prints in the mud, big ones.

“See? I told you something was here,” I say, basically to myself since Blade wouldn’t follow me out here. In fact, she wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence this morning. I think she’s angrier about being cheated out of sleep than me keeping Heathcliff’s appearance secret.

I look for the shoe, but I don’t see it. I also don’t see any blood, which I take as a good sign. Maybe whatever that thing was, it just got it from the trash. The shoe didn’t necessarily have to be attached to an actual person when the animal took it. Near one of the prints, I find another torn piece of paper.

It looks like something from the same drawing. I dig around in my blazer pocket and pull out the other three pieces. They all look like they’re from the same drawing — the ones I found outside the gym, on the campus commons, and then in Coach H’s room. Only this third piece looks like a claw, from a paw, maybe. Okay, so now I know these drawings have to be connected somehow to Coach H’s disappearance, the Hooded Sweatshirt Stalker, and to whatever I saw last night. This can’t just be a coincidence.

I need some answers, and maybe Ms. W has them. I look for her at morning assembly, but I don’t see her. Strange. I decide to look for her later, at our counseling session this afternoon.