What Happens After Midnight, page 17
“Yeah.” Tag shivered again as I gestured to the conference room. We’d turned off the lights but hadn’t bothered to close the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
“What coffee?” Alex asked blankly.
I stamped my foot. “Now!”
After one last look at his best friend, Alex took the backpacks and darted into the darkness. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Hops,” Tag whispered as I sat back down and wrapped him in my arms, tears pooling in my eyes. “You don’t know what’s going to happen…”
“No, I don’t,” I whispered back, watching the dented white Prius blink its headlights before stilting to a stop. My heart rattled in my rib cage. “But I’m ready for it.”
TWENTY
It went unsaid that I wouldn’t be whipping up omelets for breakfast and that we also wouldn’t be stopping by the Hub for pancakes. Instead, I sunk to an all-time low, pathetically unwrapping a blueberry Pop-Tart. “Mom…” I started.
“You need to wake up,” she said tightly. “No yawning while we’re in there.”
I nodded, not about to argue. Leda Hopper looked like a force to be reckoned with this morning. Gone were her Lululemon leggings and worn flip-flops; instead, she’d dug Banana Republic’s finest out of her closet. Skinny black capris with a sleeveless white blouse and a cropped black jacket. Her high heels clicked on the kitchen floor, and she’d even done her hair, blond curls now poker-straight. I couldn’t ever remember her seeming so outwardly sharp, but then again, why would I? It wasn’t every day her daughter had a disciplinary hearing.
My Pop-Tart tasted liked cardboard. Ames had acted fast; it hadn’t even been five hours since Gabe and Mr. Harvey had found Tag and me together. “Well, well, well,” Gabe had called out, swaggering up the hill with his flashlight. “What do we have here?”
Both he and Harvey had stopped in their tracks when they realized who exactly they had there. “Lily.” Harvey sounded fazed for the first time in his career. “Lily Hopper.”
I’d burst into tears. “Please help,” I said. “Tag needs help. He’s having a hypoglycemic attack. I gave him juice but I’m not sure what else…”
Gabe was at Tag’s side in seconds, and I suddenly remembered that his sister was diabetic. He’d mentioned it once. “How are you, pal?” he asked.
“That’s a complicated question,” Tag answered slowly.
“Let’s get him up,” Gabe said, looking at Harvey. “He needs to go to the infirmary.” He paused. “And we should call his housemaster now to update him.”
“Very good,” Harvey agreed. It seemed like he was letting Gabe take the lead tonight—or at least pretending to for training purposes. He gestured at me. “And Lily?”
“I want to go to the infirmary,” I blurted, way out of turn. “I’m not leaving him until I know he’s going to be okay.”
Gabe and Harvey considered, with Harvey ultimately making the decision. They would take me with them, but I had to leave the moment my mother arrived.
She ended up beating us there. “Leda, hello,” Harvey said politely, as if not sure how my mom was going to react. She still wore pajama pants but had zipped her North Face fleece up to her throat with her arms folded across her chest.
“Thank you, Roger,” she said with a nod before telling me to get my ass in the car and then to get my ass into bed once we got home. I’d curled up under my covers but couldn’t go to sleep yet.
Please tell me you’re okay, I texted Alex.
Yeah, I’m good, he quickly responded. I eavesdropped on your chat with Campo, then snuck back after you guys left. Now I’m waiting for Taggart.
I let out a deep breath of relief. Alex was safe.
He buzzed in again: Thank you, Lily. It really means a lot to me. What you did.
You’re welcome, Alex, I wrote back before surrendering to sleep. I also wanted to wait and hear from Tag, but I was too tired. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out cold.
My mom banged on my door two hours later. “Penny is expecting us at 9:00,” she said. Bleary-eyed, I reached for my phone to see that it was almost 8:00…and that I had a text from Tag in my notifications. My fumbling fingers couldn’t enter my passcode fast enough. I was desperate to know if he was alright.
Stop worrying, I’m fine, he said. The Capri Sun wasn’t quite enough to bounce back, so the night nurse gave me some apple juice and monitored me for a little while. Then Mr. Rudnick picked me up and drove me back to the dorm. Fuck, Lily, I’m so sorry. I messed everything up for you.
The corners of my eyes began to sting. Tag was going to be slapped with a second strike. He’d gotten caught in the car with me sophomore year, and now…this. Would Headmaster Bickford kick him out? Only a week before graduation?
Don’t be sorry, I typed. It was my choice to stay, and I would do it again. My hearing is in an hour. This is what I’m going to say…
“It’ll be fine,” I told both myself and my mom once we climbed in the car. There wasn’t a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, but neither of us wanted to walk to main campus. I buckled my seat belt and noticed Puck on the back stoop, watching as if to wish me luck. “Totally fine.”
My mom cut the ignition, closed her eyes, and then looked at me. “Lily, I love you, but you do realize you won’t be getting out of this without a scratch, right? It doesn’t matter that you’re a fac brat. If Ames gave certain students special treatment, the school would have no integrity.”
“But it’s only my first strike,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “A strike is a strike. Yours may not condemn your privilege to graduate, but all strikes go in student files, and if Georgetown sees that you have one…” She rubbed her temples. “Lily, what were you doing out there?”
A lump formed in my throat, blocking the total truth from spilling out so easily. I wanted to tell her about the Jester’s prank, but I couldn’t. It suddenly seemed irrelevant. When I thought about last night now, I didn’t think about the stolen yearbooks and scavenger hunt clues. Instead, only two people came to mind. “Tag and I have been talking,” I said slowly, “and we decided to go on one last adventure together.” I swallowed. “I know it was spur-of-the-moment—”
“And stupid,” my mom interjected.
“And stupid.” I nodded. “But there’s only a week left of school, so we said ’tis the damn season and celebrated it.”
My mom responded by restarting the car and backing out of our driveway. “Does this mean you’re back together?” she asked once the covered bridge was in sight. “Because a little birdie named Bunker seems to believe you are.”
Goose bumps riddled the back of my neck. Bunker remembered our impromptu visit? How was that possible? He’d been so hammered.
“He called this morning,” my mom continued. “After having breakfast with Mr. Harvey, he called and apologized for not alerting me of your outing last night. He trusted that you would heed his suggestion to return home.”
A few heartbeats passed. My mom turned onto the covered bridge, and when the sunlight disappeared from view, I whispered, “I don’t think I ever really broke up with him, Mom.”
“No,” she said softly, reaching across the console for my hand. “I don’t think you really did either.” She squeezed my fingers. “But last night, sweetheart…” She trailed off and shook her head. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Her focus was now on the road. Students, all sporting their school blazers and colorful backpacks, were on their way to first period. I’d been excused from history for this meeting.
We parked in Admissions’ recently repaved lot, and my phone vibrated in my blazer’s breast pocket. I fished it out to find a text from Zoe. EVERYONE KNOWS, it said.
My pulse pitched. Already? Everyone knew about the prank already? The first bell hadn’t even rung yet. Who was in the yearbook office?
Another buzz announced we were in a group chat. Not about the prank, Alex clarified. Everyone knows about you and Tag, Lily. Not his trip to the infirmary or anything, but they know you were caught “hooking up” by Admissions. They know you have hearings this morning.
Naturally, I thought. Naturally, because student gossip traveled at lightning speed around Ames. Faculty gossip too, though most students didn’t know it.
“Lily!” My mom waved. She was almost to the building’s door while I still stood by the car.
Fuck off, People magazine, was the last message I saw before shoving my phone back in my blazer and hurrying after her. Together we entered the airy atrium, and I thought about asking my mom why Mr. Hoffman would’ve slept here but didn’t. She’d been livid when I’d wordlessly returned her keys several hours ago because she’d sure as hell noticed they were missing once Campo had called with the breaking news that I was not asleep in my bed. I suspected she knew that Tag and I’d used her ID to sneak into buildings.
I will tell her the truth and nothing but the truth, I resolved once we started up the atrium’s winding staircase. I would tell her absolutely everything, like I always did—everything from being tapped by the Jester to hiding the final clue in student council’s conference room.
But first, I had to face the consequences of getting caught right afterward.
The only way to describe Penny Bickford’s office was “delightful.” It sunnily sprawled across Admissions’ third floor with soft spring green walls, all-white furniture, and a vase of freshly cut flowers seemingly on every surface. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased Ames’s stunning ocean views, but I especially loved her tasteful art collection. Several pastel pieces were mine, my favorite being a lakeside landscape from Montana. Josh and my mom had gone on a hike while I’d worked all day on it, and after Penny had unwrapped it on her birthday, she’d kissed my cheek and said it would go perfectly in her office. I remembered my heart filling with such warmth.
Today, though, I couldn’t bear to even give the pastel a glance. Headmaster Bickford was already seated at her desk while Dean DeLuca stood near the windowsill. Anthony’s father preferred standing to sitting. “Good morning, Leda,” Headmaster Bickford said as my mom and I sat in the cushy chairs across from her. She nodded at me. “Lily.”
“Good morning, Headmaster,” I said feebly, and then no one spoke. We were waiting for one more person.
“Pardon, pardon!” Madame Hoffman hurried into the office a few minutes later. “My sophomores are in the language lab this morning, and I needed to get them set up before leaving.” She sighed. “There were a few technical difficulties.”
“I’ll notify ITS later today, Camille,” Dean DeLuca said before gesturing for my academic advisor to take the empty chair on my left.
She sat.
But still, nobody said a word. My blueberry Pop-Tart turned in my stomach. Was I supposed to kick off this party? Just dive right into my wrongdoing? I had no idea.
My palms had grown clammy by the time Headmaster Bickford folded her hands on her desk and made eye contact with me. “Quite frankly, Lily,” she said, her voice level, “I’m shocked that we’re sitting here under these circumstances.”
All I thought to do was nod.
Dean DeLuca cleared his throat and consulted his iPad. “According to Roger Harvey’s report,” he said, “you and Taggart Swell were found together outside Admissions at approximately 5:47 this morning. Is this correct?”
My heart twisted. “Yes.”
“And you are aware that students are not allowed outside their dormitories between their curfew and 6:30 a.m.?”
“Rob, Lily doesn’t have a dormitory,” Madame Hoffman gently reminded him. “She’s a faculty child.”
“Yes, well,” Dean DeLuca said, “faculty children are officially categorized as day students, and unless they have permission to sleep over, day students must be off campus by boarders’ curfews.” He looked at me. “Lily, since you are a senior, you should’ve left main campus by 10:30.”
I did, I thought. I always do.
But this time, I’d come back.
Meanwhile, my mom had the gall to roll her eyes. “My daughter knows the rules, Rob,” she said. “Can we skip reviewing the school handbook and cut to the chase?”
“I don’t want to be here either, Leda,” Dean DeLuca muttered, then put down his iPad and refocused on me. “Lily, you snuck out, right?”
“Well, of course she did,” Headmaster Bickford answered before I could. “And I would sincerely appreciate being enlightened as to why.”
So I told her. I took a deep breath and told her that over the last couple days, Tag and I had talked about having a final hurrah together. “We met up at midnight,” I said, “and then took our own campus tour to reminisce about the last four years. All we did was walk around for several hours.”
Because at the bare-bones level, that was exactly what we’d done. There had been plenty of stops along the way with an imperative mission to accomplish, but the scavenger hunt was truly a tour. Even though I was omitting the greater story, I wasn’t lying.
“It was the wrong decision,” I concluded. “Neither of us should’ve snuck out; we could’ve saved our walk for daylight instead of darkness.”
“Yes, you absolutely could have,” Headmaster Bickford said. “You absolutely should have.” She sighed. “After my many years here, I understand that there’s a certain…”
“Je ne sais quoi?” Madame Hoffman suggested.
“Merci, Madame,” she said. “I understand there is a certain je ne sais quoi about illicit affairs on campus, especially when under the stars, but we have curfews for countless reasons.” She paused. “Students’ safety being one of them.”
“I understand,” I said, feeling a tight twinge in my chest. “But I didn’t leave him—I never would’ve left him.”
“And I believe that’s extremely admirable,” Dean DeLuca replied. “From what Roger Harvey wrote, you had the chance to save yourself, yet you didn’t.” His voice softened. “I’m not sure I can say the same for some students.”
“Saving myself never even crossed my mind,” I said, sitting up straighter in my chair. “I wasn’t raised to abandon anyone.” I reached for my mom’s hand but made sure to meet everyone’s eyes. “Our Ames family has taught me so much over the years, and the importance of always looking out for one another is one of them.” I took a breath. “I’m sorry for sneaking out, Headmaster Bickford, but I’m not sorry for staying with him.”
I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears, but otherwise it was crickets as Headmaster Bickford exchanged a look with Dean DeLuca. “Lily, darling,” she said afterward, “would you please leave us for a few minutes? We have a lot to discuss.” She gave me a thin smile. “Why don’t you get something to drink?”
“Oh, okay,” I said, rising from my chair. “Of course.”
She’s going to give me a strike, I thought as I chose a seltzer from the marble-countertop kitchenette’s stocked refrigerator. My fingers trembled a little when I popped the can’s tab and took a long sip. How could she not?
I began pacing around the kitchenette and telling myself it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Alex had a strike but had still gotten into Columbia back in December. Maybe Georgetown wouldn’t care when they saw mine marked on my final transcript. I was a kid, and kids messed up sometimes. This wasn’t even that major a mess-up. They had to understand.
“Lil?”
I turned to see my mom standing in the doorway, her face unreadable. “How bad is it?” I hiccuped.
Too much sparkling water too quickly.
My mom leaned against the doorframe. “We need to have our bags packed by the end of the school day,” she said. “If we haven’t vacated campus by five, Campo has the right to remove us using plenty of profanity.” She sighed. “We’ll fly to Montana, and after throwing the rest of our house in a dumpster, Josh will join us. Penny hinted that the three of us should all change our names—”
I laughed so hard that seltzer spewed out my nose. “Seriously, Mom?”
“Yeah, seriously, Lily.” She nodded at the office. “Get the hell back in there.”
My stomach was churning like the high seas by the time I returned to the hot seat, and I couldn’t decide whether to vomit in my lap and risk ruining the chair’s pure white fabric or vomit right onto the blue-and-white chinoiserie rug, sending it to a landfill.
Deliberation was suspended when I heard my name. “Lily, you’ve had an exemplary record,” Headmaster Bickford said. “You are one of the most promising young women Ames has seen in a long time, both inside the classroom and outside the classroom.” She smiled tenderly. “Except for this hiccup.”
As if on cue, I actually hiccuped.
“There’s only a week left in school,” she continued smoothly, “so we are not going to give you a strike—”
“Oh, thank you!” I exclaimed. “Thank you so, so much.”
“—but you will be disciplined,” she finished.
My pulse quickened. Disciplined? What did that mean? Because my mom’s comforting hand on my shoulder suggested that it was a bigger deal than Saturday night detention.
“First, you will serve detention tomorrow night,” Dean DeLuca said. “7:00 to 10:00 in the science center’s lecture hall.”
I nodded, bracing myself for more.
“Second, you are no longer allowed to attend the senior prom next week.”
“Oh,” I said, accidentally aloud. “Oh, okay—wow.”
Headmaster Bickford opened her mouth to elaborate, but I didn’t truly listen. The senior prom—I couldn’t attend the senior prom, a night that I had built up over the years to rival Cinderella’s ball. My beautiful soft blue gown was now destined to stay in my closet; I wouldn’t be getting my hair and makeup done with Zoe and Pravika, and—shit.
Shit.
I had to tell Daniel I couldn’t be his date. Later today, I would have to look into his eyes and say that I’d screwed up and couldn’t go. The idea was worse than pulling a prank on him because it involved speaking to him. Based on what Tag had told me last night, I hadn’t planned on talking to him ever again.
