Cait Read online

  “Alright. Sit down. Let me dish out your breakfast. I made oat porridge. When you’re done eating, I will give you painkillers for the headache.” I sit down while she goes into the kitchen to get my breakfast.

  Hazel is the one in charge of administering my medication since I got back from the hospital. According to the doctor, I overdosed because I had access to drugs, so it is in everyone’s best interests that it does not happen again.

  Breakfast in front of me, I dig in, to realize that I am very famished. I catch Leah twice giving me that look. I wish she would stop it. I do not want anyone’s pity or even empathy. All this was my fault, so I have to bear whatever consequences that come with it.

  After I finish eating, Hazel goes upstairs to get me painkillers while I pack up the dirty dishes to the sink and begin to wash them. Leah offers to help me clean them, and I say that it’s alright if she wants to. While washing, we make small talk. She apologizes for looking at me the way she did, saying that she saw that I noticed.

  “It’s just that after yesterday, I sort of see you differently. Like you are fragile and need to be cared for.”

  “Oh, come on Leah,” I laugh bitterly. “I know that you are a typical mother hen, but trust me on this one. I will be fine. This is just a phase, and it will pass. I was worse than this when I first came back from the hospital. Don’t you worry about me, okay? Let’s not let anything change. In fact, forget I told you anything. Okay?”

  “Hmmm! If you say so,” Leah says.

  “Yeah, I say so. Come here.” I hug her for a couple of minutes.

  “Thank you for last night.”

  “Always, hun.”

  The dishes are almost all done when Hazel appears with my painkillers. I pour a glass of water from the tap and swallow the pills.

  “Where’s Ty?” I ask her.

  “He left early. Said that he wanted to go hang out with his friends.”

  I remember him coming home last night, and the boy in the car, but I say nothing. If he is not ready to talk about what he’s been up to, he cannot be forced. He will whenever he is ready.

  Hazel is the most laid-back sibling. She works in a fashion house that surprisingly pays well. But despite that, she does not wear fashionable clothes or even makeup every day. Most times, she just ties her hair back with a band, with her ever-present glasses perched on top of her nose. I have never seen her go out except to work or to shop for foodstuff and toiletries. She’s either reading a fashion magazine, practicing with fabric, or watching TV.

  Somehow, I feel that looking out for me is the reason why she is like this. I cannot quite remember what she was like before the accident, if she went to parties or had fun. I should talk to her, tell her that I’m capable of taking care of myself and that if she wants to go have fun or take a stroll, then it’s fine. I’ve never really had any real conversation with either her or Tyler, and I really want that to change. All we have is each other, so we need to act like it. Tyler is another matter. He is hardly ever home these days, and he never tells anyone where he really is. Things have got to change around here.

  Leah asks if I want to hang out like yesterday, but at Hanna’s house. I say no. All I want to do now is sit on the couch and watch TV. She says that she understands, even sits down with me to see a movie before leaving for Hanna’s. I tell her to say hi for me, that I’ll be seeing them on Monday. She says she will and leaves. Midway into the second movie, I fall asleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Monday morning dawns bright and clear. It’s 7:00 a.m. I jump out of bed and into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste. While brushing, I hum something I made up. I’ve been looking forward to going back to school for a while now. Brushing done, I have my shower and go to my wardrobe. Last night I had brought out what I want to wear today: a pair of maroon-colored plain trousers and a pink chiffon blouse. I am going to be adding a pair of peach colored flats. I quickly get dressed in front of my mirror, and then sit down to pack up my hair in a chignon. My aim is to look chic on my first day of school, and possibly every other day.

  When I’m done grooming myself, I pick up my school bag, which I packed the previous night as well, and head down to have breakfast. It will not do for Leah to wait for me while I eat. Hazel is still sleeping in her room. I pour cereal, milk, and sugar into a bowl and settle down to eat. Afterwards, I go to Hazel’s room to wake her up for my medication. Then, I leave the house, heading over to Leah’s, hoping that she’s done so that we can get going.

  She is just coming out of the front door as I reach her front lawn. Leah has put on a blue pair of denims and matching denim jacket. She seems to love denims and the color blue. All the times I’ve seen her, she is either in something blue or a denim material. She has curled her hair for school, and it bounces around her face as she walks. She looks more beautiful than I have ever seen her before.

  “Hey babe,” she calls waving.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Ready for today, huh?”

  “Like hell I am.”

  We high-five, and she opens the car, inviting me to get in. I wait saying nothing, while she lets the engine turn over for a while.

  “Next stop is Hanna and Charlie’s. Let’s hope that they’re done by the time we get there.”

  The twins are walking out of their picket gate when we get to their house. They spill into the back seat, while we all say hi to each other, and ask how the other has been doing. Charlie cracks us up by telling silly jokes. Leah is smoking as usual. There is little difference between her and a chain smoker. She can finish a pack of cigarettes in a day. I have nothing against cigarette smokers; I just don’t feel like I want to inhale something that smells like that.

  There are maple trees planted along the road. It seems that our townspeople have a special love for the tree. Their leaves are brown or golden, and most of them are on the ground, thanks to autumn. We get to a junction and I see a sign that says, “WELCOME TO WINCHERS.”

  “Why is that sign there?” I ask, curious. “I thought it was supposed to be on the outskirts of the town.”

  “There are three signs like that. This one leads to another part of Winchers. I suppose they just felt like putting the signs in different parts of town,” Leah answers.

  “That’s a good idea. I like it.”

  “Me too.”

  I have put on a watch I found in the box. It is a silver watch, and it still works. I think it is mine. The time says 8:15 when we arrive at the school.

  The entrance is huge and beautiful. It has two pillars that are joined at the top by a curve, and the words “WINCHERS HIGH SCHOOL” are carved into the curve. Leah shows her school identity card at the gate and is waved in by the security man. The school grounds are very big, at least from what I can see. There are blocks of story buildings at strategic locations. There are also maple trees in front of each building, with chairs made out of cement under the trees. The atmosphere is welcoming, and it makes me glad. I look forward to enjoying school. Students are walking into the compound and finding their way to their classes.

  I am starting from eleventh grade. I was told that I was in eleventh grade before the accident, but as a result of my memory problems, and in order to be able to catch up, I have to repeat the grade. Luckily, my friends are in the same grade as me, so they will help me out when I’m stuck. Mental illness is a bitch.

  Leah finds a spot in a parking marked “STUDENTS ONLY.” I figure that this is to differentiate between the staff and student parking lot.

  “I wonder who your teacher will be. For the arts, there are three grade teachers: Miss Emma, Ms. Grace, and Mr. Felix. Everyone loves Ms. Grace, and Mr. Felix is very strict. Miss Emma is not so friendly, but I wouldn’t refer to her as wicked. You need to see her looks, too,” Hannah says.

  “What’s up with her looks? Is it that horrible?”

  “Actua
lly—” Charlie starts.

  “Hush, Charlie. Don’t give her spoilers. You’ll see for yourself,” his sister says.

  “Oh, okay! Who are your grade teachers?” I ask.

  “Leah and I are in Ms. Grace’s class, while Charlie’s grade teacher is Mr. Felix. So, fingers crossed for you. But whichever one it turns out to be, you’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Let’s go. Classes start soon. Cait, I’ll show you to the principal’s office; he’ll be the one to assign you to a class,” Leah says.

  “Alright.”

  Hanna and Charlie go into the building housing the eleventh-grade classes, while Leah and I head for the administrative block. This is the most majestic of all the buildings in the compound. It is a two-story building made completely out of red bricks. The principal’s office is on the topmost floor. We climb upstairs until we get to the reception. His secretary, an elderly lady with all grey hair, after asking what we want, asks us to wait a moment, then calls him via the landline on her table.

  “Hello, sir. There is a Caitlyn Grove at the reception. She says that she’s just resuming.”

  Pause.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Pause.

  “Alright. Will do, sir.”

  She places the receiver back into its cradle.

  “Professor Watson is ready to see you, Ms. Grove. You can go in,” she tells me, pointing to his door.

  “I’ll wait for you here,” Leah says.

  “But you’re going to be late for your classes.”

  “Don’t worry. Ms. Grace will understand.”

  With that, I walk to the door. I knock and a gruff voice answers, “Come in.”

  I enter the office, and the principal is not at all what I expected. I don’t know why but I was expecting someone old, maybe like Dr. Allisus. This man is nothing like that. He looks to be in his early forties. His hair is all shiny black with no shade of grey and carefully slicked back. The square-shaped spectacles perched upon his nose makes him look younger than I think he is. The gold-plated nameplate on his mahogany table reads “PAUL WATSON.”

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, Miss Grove. Please, have a seat.”

  I take one of the seats opposite him.

  “How are you doing today?”

  “I’m okay, sir.”

  “That’s good. As you know, this is Winchers High School, a citadel of learning and excellence. It is not like other schools around. Here, vices are not condoned in any form whatsoever. Every student is expected to be on their best behavior. Defaulters will be punished. Your aunt, Mrs. Bloom, said that you are a model student. I’m sorry about what happened.

  “Now, about your class; you are an arts student, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I am going to put you in Miss Emma’s class. She does well with new students or those who are not too bright. She has a firm grip, and you’ll do well as her student.”

  He excuses himself and picks up his receiver while dialing a number. It rings, and he speaks to the person on the other end.

  “Grade staffroom eleven, I need the presence of Miss Emma in my office, pronto.”

  Pause.

  “Thank you.”

  He disconnects the call and turns to me.

  “I’ve been made to understand that you’ve had a rough few months. Winchers High looks out for all of their own; nobody is allowed to discriminate against another. So, don’t be scared. You’ll have a great year here.”

  He tells me about the history of the school and its values, how it is run by the collective efforts of staff and students alike. According to him, Winchers High has been in existence for forty-five years, churning out intellectuals, inventors, and geniuses. I listen with rapt attention, very interested. He keeps talking while waiting for my grade teacher to arrive. Leah must be wondering what is keeping me. I figure that I’ve spent more than thirty minutes in this office.

  Miss Emma enters the principal’s staffroom fifteen minutes later. Now, the impression I have been made to have of her is that of a prim and proper old lady with thin, pursed lips and frown lines. This lady is far from that. So, this was what Hanna meant when she said that I should wait to see her looks.

  She is a curvy chic with a sassy undercut, dyed a shocking white. There is a septum ring on her nose and her nails are painted scarlet red. Miss Emma cannot be more than twenty-eight. And she is strikingly beautiful. I’m straight, but if I were not, I wouldn’t mind being her bedmate. That is how attractive she is.

  “Good morning, Professor Watson. You sent for me.”

  Even her voice is beautiful, soft and velvety.

  “Yes, I did. This is Caitlyn Grove. We’ve been expecting her for a few months, and now, she’s here. I have assigned her to your class. Please, do the needful.”

  “Alright, Prof. Thank you.”

  “Hi Caitlyn. My name is Miss Emma. Welcome to Winchers High School.”

  “Thank you, Miss Emma.”

  “Follow me, please.”

  I get up, thank Professor Watson, and follow my grade teacher out of his office. Leah has earphones in and is bobbing her head to some music when we get to the reception. She lifts a brow in question. I understand that she’s asking if Miss Emma is my new form teacher, and I nod. Leah follows behind us, without a sound. We get to the eleventh-grade building, an imposing structure too. It has the sign “ELEVENTH GRADE” hung over the entrance. The eleventh-grade classes are downstairs, six in all, both science and arts. Which means that the staffroom is upstairs.

  Leah enters the one with “ELEVEN E” over the door. Miss Emma walks into the next one, and I follow. I am in “ELEVEN F.” The students all stand up when she enters the class.

  “Good morning, Miss Emma. You are welcome,” they all chorus.

  “Good morning, students. How was your weekend? Great, I hope?”

  “Yes, Miss Emma.”

  “Cool. Please, sit down.”

  She waits for everyone to settle down, before addressing them. “With me here is Caitlyn Grove. She is your new classmate. What do you say to her?”

  “Welcome, Caitlyn.”

  “Great. Now, this is Caitlyn’s first time at Winchers High. She changed towns and is here to stay. I urge you all to encourage and support her as she tries to learn the ropes. Alright, students?”

  “Alright, Miss Emma.”

  “That’s all for now. Caitlyn, there’s an empty chair there,” she says, pointing. “That’s your spot.” My spot is beside a red-haired girl who is smiling like she knows me. As I walk towards my chair, I try to search my brain. Have I met her before?

  I take a seat and hang my school bag behind the chair.

  “Hi Caitlyn,” the smiling redhead says.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m Georgia Reynolds. Nice to meet you,” she stretches out her right hand.

  Georgia. Georgia. Wait! Isn’t she the girl that Charlie is crushing on? I’ll ask him after school.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Here’s the timetable for lessons.” She brings a sheet of paper out from her locker and hands it to me. I take it and scan through the subjects. We have two periods of economics this morning.

  My first day at Winchers High goes by so quickly. I find out that I still have a bit of residual knowledge of the subjects that are taught. That’s a good thing. I will not have to be solely dependent on my friends or anybody for that matter.

  Soon, the bell for dismissal rings, and I find my way to the students’ parking lot to wait for my friends. I would have gone to Leah’s class, but people were swarming around and it made me nervous.

  I get to Leah’s Mustang, but none of them is there yet. So I just lean against the hood and wait. No sooner than I lean on it did Victor Scumb materiali
ze out of the blue, with two of his cronies.

  “Hey girl. You’re Leah’s friend, right? I saw you at the party on Friday night.” The other two guys are hovering behind his shoulder like hawks looking for their next meal.

  I am torn between ignoring him and saying something, but when I realize that he might not leave if I don’t say anything, I go with the latter.

  “Yeah, I’m Leah’s friend.”

  “So, how are you doing? You new around here, huh? What do you say I show you around town sometime? Take you somewhere fun.” The pervert is licking his lips. Ewww! Pig!

  At that moment, the gang arrives. Leah is looking furious.

  “Get away from her!” she almost pounces on him. “Be gone!”

  “Hey, hey, hey! Easy babe. You know I mean no harm,” he backs away from me, arms raised in mock surrender.

  Leah opens the doors. “Everyone, get in!”

  We all obey without a word. She floors the accelerator and spins the car, almost hitting Victor, who jumps out of the way, flipping the finger.

  “Bastard,” she snarls under her breath, driving out of the compound.

  There is an uncomfortable silence for some minutes, before Hanna breaks it. “Leah, what was that about? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

  “I just don’t want him around my friends, that’s all. He’s too annoying.”

  “But you did not react that way at the party when we saw him.”

  “Yeah, because he had every right to be there, same as me.”

  “Or because you have the hots for him,” ventures Charlie.

  “Charles, don’t!”

  “Uh oh! Sorry.”

  “Let’s just drop the subject, okay? Even if I ever liked him before, I don’t anymore.”

  I look at her, and I can see the pain in her eyes. I recognize it because, most times, I see it in mine too. God knows what she’s passing through that she has refused to tell anybody about.