Oh right! Sorry! I completely forgot that you’re a newb. But Miller has been known to deduct privileges in advance. She’s a biatch. Pardon my language.
I’m Calliope, by the way. But everyone calls me Callie. I’m sorry about all the stuff some of the girls are putting you through. I do gotta ask though: Is Principal Carlisle really your guardian? And are you really not a spy?
I have to smile at her note.
There’s no malice there. Not after the way I feel her looking at me with so much eagerness.
So I reply,Gotcha. No sleeping in Miller’s class. She’s actually my assigned guidance counselor too. So not looking forward to that meeting next week.
Yes, Principal Carlisle is really my guardian. My mom and her were childhood friends. She died when I was ten so me and my older sister were sent to live with her. And no, I’m really not a spy. I’m just like the rest of you guys.
Also, you’re the first person to smile at me in this place. So thanks again.
I pass the note back to her and like before, she jumps at it and devours it quickly. As soon as she’s done, she writes back.
You’re welcome! I would’ve said hi sooner but I had to be a little careful since I so don’t wanna get on the bad side of Principal Carlisle.
Yeah, I don’t blame her. Leah can be a little intimidating with all her rules and punishments and lectures and ambitions.I mean, what else do you expect from the principal of a reform school?
I, myself, am totally afraid of her and I lived with her for eight years.
But I guess she’s only intimidating to girls like us, who break the rules and are perpetually bad.
I write down my reply, feeling light for the first time in almost seven days.
It’s okay. Principal Carlisle scares me too.
A second later, her reply comes.
Right?! She is scary. Like, she never smiles. By the way, if you sit with us in the cafeteria, we’ll make sure no one will bother you.
I’m about to ask who ‘us’ is, when the bell rings and the day ends thankfully. Everyone dives down for their backpacks like they’re diving in to save their lives, which could very well be true because God, this class was killing me.
I turn to Callie, the first girl to talk to me at St. Mary’s, and say, “Thanks for having my back.”
She smiles brightly. “Of course. I’ve been there. Miller is so fucking boring.”
“Did I hear someone dissing Miller?”
This comes from a girl with black hair and glasses. She’s got a husky voice and a mischievous face, and she’s wiggling her eyebrows at us.
Callie rolls her eyes. “Poe here has a great aversion to Miller.”
“Duh.” Poe zips up her backpack and skips over to us. “She’s evil. And my guidance counselor. So I’m super lucky.” She turns to me then, curious. “I’m Poe, by the way, as Callie said. Poe Austen Blyton. My mom was an Austen fan. And a Poe fan. And that.” She points to a third girl. “Is Bronwyn. Bronwyn Littleton. Isn’t that the greatest name ever?”
The girl she’s pointing at has the longest hair that I’ve ever seen. Like Rapunzel. Her light brown braid goes down to her ass but when she looks at Poe and shakes her head in a very indulgent and patient manner, I completely forget about the length of her hair and marvel over her eyes.
Because her eyes are silver and so ethereal looking.
She slings her backpack over her shoulder and looks at me. “But people call me Wyn. Because I hate Bronwyn, which Poe already knows.” She swings her gaze to Poe. “Doesn’t she?”
Poe sticks her tongue out at her.
“It’s okay,” I say, chuckling at their antics. “I hate my name too. Salem. It sounds witchy.”
Wyn smiles at me gently. “I like it.”
Second smile of the day. I can’t believe it.
