Chapter Ten
Hanna Harnett
Part One
The sullen woman led us down an empty hallway. Taylor’s heels clacked and echoed as she walked, heel-toe, heel-toe, like she was a model or something (yeah right) and was walking down a lit runway. The other girl, Charlie or Chartreuse or something, walked slightly behind her, next to me. She had an extra skip in her step, like she wasn’t being led to prison or anything. With these roomies, I was starting to feel like Galinda in Wicked. I rolled my eyes, just paying attention to the thumping of my Converse, like a heartbeat. Thump-thump-thump-thump. I sighed. I missed my toe shoes, tucked away somewhere in my duffel bag.
I winced when I felt a buzzing in my back pocket. I knew it wasn’t any of my friends, we’d had a good-bye party last weekend and texted our good-byes right before I got onto the plane today. We were supposed to hand in our phones, but of course I didn’t. I never did anything without my phone, it was like, my life.
Just as I was about to pull it out of my pocket, the lady unlocked a door on our right. A gush of air whooshed out, and I wrinkled my nose. The room smelled like mothballs. Stepping inside, I saw a bunk bed, a twin bed, and a little reading nook inside an alcove, with a floor-to-ceiling stained-glass window of a mermaid that looked suspiciously like Ariel (or me, if I squinted my eyes and the hair magically turned about three shades lighter). It was possibly the only window not barred in this whole school. I raced over to it, pirouetting on the way. I couldn’t help it! Just as I grabbed my Vera Bradley suitcases from one of three walk-in closets and plopped it on my newly claimed bed, the old lady raised her over-plucked eyebrows at me, shooting me a look that said ‘That is NOT a bed’. I glared, waiting for her to back off, and thank goodness she did. Apparently, my glares are just that good, I thought proudly.
We all made our beds with sheets and comforters given by the school, ours of course, were yellow, our dorm color. Once our beds were satisfactory, the teacher/aid/prison-guard/whatever finally left the room. I plopped on my seat and looked out the window for barely a second before I remembered my phone. I didn’t want to get snitched on by the smoker or the wanna-be model, so I waited some more with a wan sigh.
“So… what are you in for?” the Chartreuse girl asked brightly.
“Fights,” Taylor said simply, catching me by surprise. Probably fights like the Jersey girl fights, I thought with a customary eye roll, remembering Ally and her obsession with Jersey Shore.
“Cool, I’m here because I used to steal things, like you know, out of stores…” Charlotte (I remember her name now! She was the loser who wanted to join Dawn’s clique, like she wasn’t wearing last season’s colors or styles! You’d think someone with famous parents would have a better fashion sense) put such emphasis on ‘used to’ that it was obvious she still steals.
“Running away. Multiple times, because my mom’s crazy and high as a kite and refuses to buy my ADHD meds and wants me to be a pageant girl,” I offered half-heartedly, in a quick, simple sentence. I could tell my roomies were a little surprised that a 4’9” girl (destined for Broadway, thank you very much), was capable of being so BA and having a crazy mother.
I realized that these girls weren’t exactly tattle-tales, they had their own problems, so I slipped my phone out of my pocket, praying that there were no hidden cameras in the room. It was from Damien.
Damien: Met another chick after you left, blonde. I said she could come to the party because she looked friendless. LOL. Come to the basketball court at 6:30. Party starts at 7.
I grinned and slid my phone open (Samsung Intensity II. Worst. Phone. Ever. Especially after you drop it about a million times.) Typing quickly, my long, manicured thumbnails pressing into the keys, I typed up a reply in record time. Hanna: Sounds great! Can’t wait… As I was aiming my thumb towards ‘send’, Charlotte spoke up. I was so surprised, I dropped my phone.
“Who are you texting?” she asked innocently as I retrieved my phone from the floor. I was about to shrug it off and tell her nobody when I realized something. Blonde hair, friendless, she was outside when Dawn and I went to the boy’s school… She was following us! And she was the girl Damien made fun of in the text he sent. Perfect! I shrugged, acting like I didn’t know about Charlotte’s escapade.
“Oh, just this kid at the guy’s school. His name’s… Darren? Drake? Oh, wait! Damien. He’s really hot too. He invited me and Dawn to his party, and he said some loser, too. She was all over him, he said he invited her out of pity but refused to give her his number. Or was it a fake number he gave to her? Blonde hair… gosh, what was her name? Right! Charlotte…” I trailed off, looking at her in mock surprise. Acting was my specialty (along with singing and dancing), and I knew it worked when Charlotte’s face turned a pasty white. Her voice shaking, Charlotte tried to give a nonchalant ‘oh’. Good thing she’s not an actress like her movie-star parents, I thought. She sucks at it!
>>Rules aren't the only things broken here...♥
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