1 One Nicole threw down her stack of flashcards in disgust.

She had memorized the EP's for enough stupidly-named bands for one night. She didn't care that The Portable Sharks had a really great album before they made it big with Funtimes. In fact, she didn't much care about The Portable Sharks at all. She didn't even know what exactly made a shark portable or not. She even ventured to guess that all sharks are portable if you have a big enough tank on wheels. And maybe some sort of a license. She flopped down on her extra-long twin bed and looked up at the puckered ceiling. She thought about nothing, except for one particularly catchy, sickeningly-sweet song she couldn't remember the name of on an album she couldn't remember the name of by a band she somewhat remembered the name of. She was pretty sure the word coaster was in there somewhere. Coaster Kids? Roller Coaster House? Please Use A Coaster? She was on the verge of finding it when she heard the screen of her window fall and the actual window slid open. Her roommate, Melanie, tossed in a canvas messenger bag followed by a pair of highheeled combat boots followed by her entire body. Coulda used the door, Nicole noted casually. Melanie unfolded herself off the floor and looked at the door as if amazed by its very being there. This look didn't surprise Nicole. In fact, Melanie looked at most things as if she were amazed by them. Nicole thought it might have something to do with her buggy, wide-set eyes, but she didn't discount the notion that her roommate may have actually been fascinated by everything.

2 Ooh, Melanie squeaked and picked up Nicole's discarded flash cards, Studying for alt rock history? Was, Nicole corrected her, Now I'm asleep. Melanie giggled her little bells and wind chimes laugh and shook her head, announcing decidedly, you're not asleep. You got me, Nicole deadpanned. Melanie, still giggling softly, donned a pair of comically oversized headphones which were attached to the vinyl record player next to her bed. Nicole had one too; it was one of the pieces of furniture provided by the school, along with your usual bed, desk, and dresser. Nicole had never used hers recreationally; it had only been used on those few times when she had to write a paper comparing vinyl to MP3, and even then it had only been to humor the assignment. The only real difference she could hear was that the records popped and skipped and just kind of sounded worse. Nicole rolled over on her bed and tried to pull the plain blue duvet out from under her so she could just sleep. She was still wearing her clothes from that day jeans, a tee shirt with a large symbol she couldn't identify, and a hooded jacket covered in tiny dream catchers but she just wanted to sleep. Her first test of the quarter in History of Alternative Rock was tomorrow, and she figured that if she couldn't actually learn it, she may as well be as rested as possible, so she might have just a clear enough mind to maybe be able to distinguish between The Straws and The Strays, whose music sounded as alike as their names. The bands were even familiar with this, and often covered each others' songs, and Nicole was supposed to be able to know which band had written it, let alone who was performing it and at what concert at which they often

3 performed together. Just the thought of it made Nicole's head spin, and she reached out of the cave of her bundled blankets, blindly reaching for the lamp on her desk. She had finally begun to think about something other than the poorly memorized facts of Alt Rock History which had been mixing and changing in her mind the more she tried to set them straight. She was thinking about day-after Thanksgiving turkey sandwiches, namely, when Melanie started singing the harmony part to whatever song she was listening to. Nicole could only tell it was the harmony part because A, it made no sense as a melody, and B, harmonies were all Melanie ever sang. Even to songs that only had one part, she would make up some other harmony. She was good at that. She wanted to be a Band Mate, and Nicole thought that she would be perfect at it. But just at that moment, when Nicole would have fallen asleep happily and easily and dreamed about food, Nicole couldn't stand it. Her eyes shot wide open and she stared at the blanket over her face with an are you fucking kidding me? expression on her face. She sat straight up, only bending at the waist, almost as if she had been possessed, but then she would have shot up sternum-first and her head might have spun around a few times, but the technicalities were beside the point. She turned her head toward her tiny roommate, fully ready to unleash her anger, but just when Melanie looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes, her own face softened. It wasn't Melanie and her vulnerable baby-deer look, it was Nicole. She always had very involved fantasies about chewing people out, but in the end she just couldn't do it when presented with the opportunity. Hey, uh, Nicole began, her voice a little shaken from the sudden surge and ebb of adrenaline, I'm, like, actually gonna sleep now... maybe? Okay?

4 She had a habit of turning her commands into questions at the end, as if she were chickening out and asking for permission in the end. Melanie smiled sheepishly. Oh, sorry, I didn't even realize. Of course you didn't, Nicole thought cynically, you just sing that perfectly accidentally. Nicole took a deep breath and sank back into her bed. She wasn't usually this snippy with Melanie, really she was a good roommate. She always helped her with studying, and very rarely did so patronizingly, at least not on purpose. Nicole was just under exorbitant amounts of stress. Certainly the sort of stress that comes from being unprepared for a test in a subject one doesn't understand, but also the acute form of stress that comes from being where one doesn't belong. Madame Poussin's Academy for Girls had a very misleading name, in that it claims to be for girls, as in for all young females. This was, in fact, untrue. It was only for girls aged fifteen to seventeen, for one, and second, it was only for a very certain type of girl. Every student at the Academy was beautiful and unique like so many butterflies drifting through life, flower to flower, concerned only with the beauty of nature. In this way, Nicole felt out of place. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful, it was that her beauty was so traditional. She had a fairly symmetrical face, average-sized brown eyes, medium-length brown hair, and no distinguishing features. She was average height and thin but not skinny by no fault or action of her own. It wasn't just their appearance, either. Each girl had something to her. Some strange, fiery passion for something, present just beneath the surface of her skin. For Melanie that was harmonizing. It wasn't just music, or even just singing. She loved those things, but it was her

5 quirky and fervent love for harmony that gave her that... something. Nicole couldn't seem to name it. Nicole didn't have that, at least there wasn't anything she could recognize. For that matter, her teachers and advisers couldn't seem to find anything in her either. She just went on taking these classes they told her to take, trying to process information she could not reasonably fathom ever having a use for. And not even in the way that some students say I'll never use this in regards to math or biology. Nicole would have loved a math or biology class. She could see the practical application in that. What she couldn't understand is why she would ever need to know intricate details of the Star Wars universe that were left out of the movies. Or how to make fireworks. Or the intricacies of the real Russian Princess Anastasia's life. Nicole did finally get to a fitful sleep, dreaming vaguely of the family who seemed to exist in another universe. This was Nicole's second year at the Academy, and she hadn't been home since she enrolled. She hadn't even been dropped off; her parents had said goodbye to her in their driveway, waving mechanically back and forth with plastic smiles on their plastic faces. That was how Nicole remembered it, at least. She was sure she was wrong and just experience some sort of bitter opposite of rosy retrospection, but a part of her really believed that her parents and younger brother had felt nothing at her departure. Two Nicole woke slowly and pleasantly. Too pleasantly. The pleasantly didn't last long. Icy horror gripped her chest as she launched her body to view the alarm clock on her desk 10:38. Her test would end in twelve minutes. She groaned and collapsed back onto her bed. There was

6 no point in going now; even if she ran to class in the clothes she had worn yesterday and fallen asleep in, there still wouldn't be time to even get through the multiple choice section, let alone the identification section of which she had already missed all three iterations of the songs, and let alone the fact that her teacher hated her. But she had needed this test. Even just a non-failing grade, a low D at the very least, which she had thought she could attain would have kept her overall grade above failing. And sure, she still had the rest of the quarter to make it up, but this test had been worth so much, and even if there were enough participation points available to save her, Nicole knew she couldn't get them. Participation involved being the first to correctly identify a band or song, or worse, being able to sing on command when only given the name of the song. Not only was this practice useless and impossible, but Nicole was terrified of singing in front of those twenty or so angel skylarks. Nicole finally lifted herself out of her bed and out of her depression. She figured the least she could do was send a profusely apologetic email to her teacher and beg her to let her take a make-up test or offer her some sort of extra credit or something. She had just opened her laptop when something in the window caught her eye. Outside, a large group of girls had made a circle of themselves. Nicole didn't know what, because her window was on the first floor and therefore could not see down into the group to see what could be garnering so much attention from a group of girls so wrapped up in themselves most of the time. She looked back down at her email. So far she had written Dear Ms. Landry. I'm very sorry. Nicole read through the six words several times, and ultimately decided that they pretty much summed up what she wanted to say already. She signed her name and clicked send as she

7 was closing the lid of her laptop and standing up out of her chair. Locking her door quickly, she left her dorm and walked purposefully outside. The group was easy enough to find, as it had only grown since last she saw it. The group was now several rings thick of girls, the outermost of whom seemed to not even know what they were looking at, they were just drawn in by the commotion, as was Nicole herself. Then, at last, a few heads parted in such a way that Nicole could see through to the carnival attraction. It was a boy. No impossible feats of strength, no double head, not even much of a real beard, although he was pretty scraggly looking. Nicole deflated a bit. She had hoped this would be something actually exciting. Like a baby bunny. Or a baby fox. Or some sort of baby, at the very least. Maybe even a baby human, though that would be complicated, and Nicole hoped the girls would have the common sense to bring a baby human to the nurse or something instead of just crowding around it. In any case, this wasn't a baby. It was just a teenage boy. Leave it to a school full of girls to be so ludicrously enthralled by the appearance of a male in their age group. Hormone-crazed sluts, Nicole thought, shaking her head as she turned away from the group. As she walked, she began to realize that it actually was kind of a big deal for a boy to be here. For one, this school was girls-only. For two, the campus was deep in the woods, and even Nicole wasn't exactly sure where, she only knew it was Appalachian. So the odds of anyone finding it on their own were actually pretty slim. Add that to the fact that he was a young, attractive boy and you've got yourself a side show at the Carnivale du Madame Poussin. Nicole felt bad for having momentarily thought so poorly of her classmates, and silently

8 thanked her fear of confrontation for not having said anything. Plus-one for introversion. Feeling apologetic, she decided to visit Ms. Landry in person to better explain her email. But she did kind of like the six-word story feel it had going. It sort of summed up not only her missing the test, but for not participating and for not understanding. Ms. Landry was alone in her classroom, stacking the tests Nicole was supposed to have taken into a neat pile to slide into her bag. She looked up when Nicole entered, then immediately looked back down at her work. How nice of you to show up. I sent an email, Nicole began to explain, but then she realized just how little her email probably helped. Right. You're sorry. Well let me just change your grade real quick if that's the case, she joked. It was almost mean, but not quite. There was something of a friendly teasing in her tone. Well, at least we both know I didn't lie anywhere in that email! Nicole tried joking back, but only received a slightly disappointed look from her teacher. She continued more sincerely, Okay, I really did study last night and I really thought I was going to do well, I just overslept somehow. My alarm didn't go off, and And your dog ate your homework? Ms. Landry finished for her. Nicole, don't you care about passing this class? Don't you care about your schooling? Your career? I do. But I want to be a writer and I honestly don't see how this is leading me to that. It's not about that, it's about your ability to learn and experience. I know you know that. I Nicole began to fight. She was going to tell her that that's what teachers tell the kids

9 who don't like math, but that eventually when they're deciding how much to tip they'll realize that it was all worth it, and that there was no equivalent experience for Alternative Rock. The most that could happen was she could be listening to the radio or something and be able to note oh, hey, that's The Michaels and maybe it would impress one person. That was all this class offered her; that was all she had at stake in failing. Well, that and being kicked out of school, which Nicole was beginning to think wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to her. But, of course, Nicole's rising heart rate reminded her that arguing was a really bad idea, and she immediately backed down, settling for, I know. I'm sorry, it won't happen again. It better not, Ms. Landry warned in a very teacher-y voice. Is there any way I can still take the test? Or do some extra credit? We'll see. I'll send you an email with more than six words in it if I can set something up, and either way, I'll see you Monday morning. Right. I'll be there. Well, here. Right here. Actually over there, she pointed to the second-to-last-row desk she usually sat in, then reconsidered and pointed to a desk respectably in the front row but far enough to the side to not be completely awful, Or on second thought maybe here. Ms. Landry smiled strangely then opened the door and held it for Nicole, who hurried out and purposefully took the opposite direction of her teacher. Because although it would have been most convenient to turn right, Nicole didn't particularly want to walk-and-talk with her, and to walk without talking would have been more awkward, so really she was saving them both. She wasn't entirely sure where another exit was, and took several wrong turns down long

10 hallways that didn't connect to any others, so she would have to turn around and go all the way back. Finally she found an exit, and was relieved when it didn't set off an alarm. It had been surrounded by red signs, but she really wasn't in the mood to find another door, and took the risk. Nicole took a few steps away from the building before turning back to look up at it. She had never been on this side of this building before. In fact, she wasn't sure she even knew what building this was anymore. She had gone up and down a few flights of stairs, and she had always heard that all the buildings were connected through underground tunnels, but none of the hallways she had walked through had looked anything like the fallout bunkers she had imagined. Now she was outside, on the edge of the actual forest and the campus which was described as woodsy but really only had a few newly-planted trees. She had been in the woods before. In fact, during summer session she had taken Astronomy and Astrology and the Metaphors of Stars and the Vastness of Space, so she had gone out through the woods to a clearing with her class to lay in the dewy grass and star at the stars and talk about how the stars were really just like them. She had taken the occasional walk through the woods on her own as well, so she couldn't figure out why now the line of trees felt so imposing. She had just pushed the feeling down and was about to find her way around the building, toward the center of campus to find her way back to her dorm before her next class, but she froze when she heard a rustling coming from just within the woods. She didn't understand the sudden fear, she only reacted to it, and pressed her back up against the brick building. Hi, said a voice, Are you okay? Nicole opened her eyes, instantly feeling foolish when she saw that it was the boy from

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11 before. Uh, hi, she responded, feeling color fill her cheeks. The boy looked over his shoulders warily. Did something happen? No, no, she responded, I just had a minor freak out. It's cool, really. The boy laughed. Did I scare you? No, Nicole answered too fast and too defensively. The boy laughed again, and eventually Nicole joined him. Hey, he began, narrowing his eyes at her, I saw you earlier. Did you? It seemed like you saw a lot of girls earlier, how can you know it was me? I'm pretty sure. Well, I hardly recognized you without throngs of women surrounding you. Yeah, that was weird, is that what always happens? He asked. You mean all the one times a guy has shown up on campus? Yes. His eyes widened as he processed her joke. Seriously? He asked. Then he seemed to sort of remember where he was, or at least where he wasn't, which was anywhere within walking distance of anywhere else. Seriously, Nicole answered him, even though she could tell he already knew. The two fell silent then, and Nicole finally had time to really take in his appearance. He was even scruffier than she remembered him from the glimpse she had caught of him. He seemed kind of dirty, too. He was wearing torn, mud-spattered jeans and a faded tee-shirt under an open flannel

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12 shirt under an also open brown coat. He was wearing a pair of well-used hiking boots, but he had a pair of Converse dangling from laces tied around a strap on his enormous backpack. The backpack seemed to be of good quality, one meant for hiking or backpacking, she assumed, but it like everything else showed signs of wear. He had a bushy head of overgrown brown hair that matched his scruffy chin, but between all that brown hair shone his bright blue eyes, which represented possibly the only clean-looking surface on his person. Nicole suddenly realized that she had been staring at this boy, judging him in silence for some time. So what's with the whole... she gestured to his general grunginess, hoping she wouldn't have to say filth. Whole what? He asked because of course he would. The, uh... she hesitated, wilderness look. She was happy with her word choice, but the boy still laughed. Oh, yeah, I guess I must look a little less than clean, he said, surveying his body as if newly aware that it was there, I'm kind of doing the whole Emerson-Thoreau Thing, I guess. You know, self-reliance, roughing it in the woods. I'm Walden. Walden, she repeated. Oh, no, my name is Drew. I meant I'm like the book 'Walden'. Drew, she repeated more certainly. There was a beat of silence, during which Nicole decided that the next thing she would say totally wouldn't come off as rude. So, exactly how long have you been doing 'The Emerson-Thoreau Thing'?

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13 That depends, he began instantly, what day is it? It's September twelfth. In that case, he paused, looking up and apparently calculating, About a month and a half? A month and a half? Nicole asked incredulously. Give or take. You've been wandering through Appalachia for a month and a half? Or so, he said calmly, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was legally a mountaindwelling hobo. Well, not legally, she supposed, but there must have been some technicality that accounted for it. Okay, we're not being exact, I get it, Nicole said, a little impatient, What exactly is The Emerson-Thoreau Thing? Oh, right. I guess that's not like a real thing that everyone just knows about. See, I've been living on my own for the past month and a half-ish, so I tend to forget how other people think. Nicole waited silently for him to continue on to the part about what in the world he meant by The Emerson-Thoreau Thing, which he didn't. Okay, she finally said once it was obvious he thought he had no more to explain, Well, it's been real great talking to you, Dave Drew. Drew. Well, Drew, I have to go to class now. Have fun with your mysterious

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14 adventures. Wait! She had turned to leave with her last statement, but turned back at his sudden outburst. What? She asked. You never told me your name. Oh, it's Nicole. Nicole, he repeated, Bye, Nicole. Bye, Drew, she responded in a less-than-polite tone. She watched disdainfully as he smiled broadly and turned back toward the woods and began weaving his way through the brush. Shaking her head slightly, she turned as well and found her way around the building. Three Nicole had just enough time to get back to her dorm, shower, change clothes, grab her bag, and make it to her next and last class of the day. It was Shakespeare's Comedies, and it was one of the few classes she really enjoyed going to. This was almost entirely due to the fact that it was the most like a normal high school English class, in that they read, discussed, wrote essays, and complained about it. There was no singing, and there was very little using-it-as-ametaphor-for-life. They just treated them like stories, occasionally read aloud, and always analyzed. Today, however, there would be no analysis. Of Shakespeare, at least. All the analysis would be on the appearance of one dirty, backpack-clad young man that morning. Nicole had hoped that this was just the pre-class tittering of her hyper-excited classmates, and was

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15 disappointed when their teacher didn't immediately quiet them, and instead asked for more information. Miss Carver then held a class discussion entirely based on speculating where he might have come from, how he may have gotten here, and who he might have been. Nicole waited silently through a lot of maybe he's on a soul-searching adventure and maybe he knew someone who goes here and he just had to find her and maybe he's a Time Lord before finally speaking up. His name's Drew. He's doing what he calls 'The Emerson-Thoreau Thing' which he never explained to me, but he's been traveling for about a month and a half. The class fell silent for the first time during that class period. Finally, one girl from the front row with extremely curly blonde hair spoke. You talked to him? He talked to you? Asked a girl with dark skin (and presumably dark hair but Nicole didn't actually know because it was always covered in some sort of a head scarf) but light green eyes. The rest of the girls in the class stared back at Nicole expectantly, all with the same hungry look in their eyes; one that begged for information about their new subject of fascination, but moreover one that asked why you? Nicole shifted uncomfortably in her seat before answering, Yeah, I talked to him about an hour before class started. What did he say? Asked another girl. Nicole couldn't tell which one exactly because of the discomfort caused by everyone looking at and listening to her so intently. I just told you. He said his name was Drew, and that he's doing 'The Emerson-Thoreau

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16 Thing, whatever that means. Interesting, Miss Carver said slowly, causing all the heads to turn back to the front of the class and subsequently causing a before-unfelt pressure to leave Nicole's shoulders. What does everyone know about Emerson and Thoreau. Does anyone want to explain? Miss Carver pointed to the girl with her hand raised. Her rainbow-dyed hair was pulled back in a French braid so that each strand was a different color, revealing her gauged earlobes. They're transcendentalists; Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. Good, Miss Carver said, nodding and pointing to another girl. She wore large hornrimmed glasses and was clutching a travel mug in both her fingerless-glove-clad hands as if it were the only source of heat in some frozen wasteland. Emerson wrote 'Self-Reliance' and Thoreau, inspired by his friend and mentor, wrote 'Walden' about a man who lives out in the woods for two years, so presumably that's what our Drew is attempting. Something about the combination of our Drew and attempting made Nicole uncomfortable. Just a few minutes ago these girls thought maybe he was here for one of them, as if he were some fairy tale hero. They hadn't even known his name. And while Nicole did know his name and had spoken to him enough to know he was anything but a knight in shining armor, she didn't really feel comfortable with him being her Drew either. She didn't think he needed a possessive pronoun, really. Particularly if one was going to say he was only attempting The Emerson-Thoreau Thing. That made the our seem like he was their class pet or something. He had survived for at least a month and had presumably made quite some headway considering he

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17 was now at Madame Poussin's, so he wasn't exactly just some fluffy rodent either. So he wasn't a knight, and he wasn't a gerbil, but what was he, exactly? Nicole? Miss Carver asked. Nicole stared up at her vacantly for a moment, her mouth hanging open slightly before asking, I'm sorry, what? Did he say anything about transcendentalism? Oh, she said, replaying their strange encounter back in her mind at ten-times speed, No, not really. He mentioned Emerson and Thoreau and Walden a bit, but not really. He was just focused on how it had been approximately one and a half, but not exactly. And then he asked me my name, and then we left, and that was pretty much it. Why is this such a big deal? Miss Carver looked around the class, as if she had just asked Nicole's question and was expecting an answer from the class. Finally, a tiny, pale girl with a short black bob piped up, Because he's cute. The class erupted into laughter; even Miss Carver's shoulders shook with held-back giggles. Nicole suspected that Miss Carver's own answer was something similar to this. She was possibly the youngest teacher at the school, so it wasn't absurd for her to be similarly excited, but it was still inappropriate enough for her to not say it outright. The rest of that class was spent discussing his cuteness while Miss Carver made feeble attempts to compare him to various characters in As You Like It. Nicole had resigned to doodling in the margin of the empty page in her notebook, only occasionally lifting her head from her hand to answer some question about Drew.

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18 Nicole was first out of the door when the bell rang, despite her desk being nearly the furthest one from the door. She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do once she got out of the classroom so fast, but she was sure she didn't want to be stopped to answer more questions. Which is exactly what happened. She was stopped by Annise, a tall, intense girl with straight blonde hair down to her waist. Nicole wasn't fond of her; she was too competitive, too argumentative, and entirely too tall. She put a hand on Nicole's shoulder and spun her around. Hey, wait up, she said, retracting her hand and hunching down slightly to be only slightly above Nicole. Nicole wasn't surprised that she was able to catch up, considering her legs were about eight feet long, but she hadn't exactly been expecting it either. Yeah? Nicole asked, feeling like a child answering to an adult as she looked up at Annise's angular face. Did Drew say if he was leaving tonight? She asked. Nicole's first instinct was to roll her eyes. Of course perfect model Annise wanted to include the only young guy in possibly a one hundred mile radius in her Friday night plans. But she refrained when she noted a legitimate sense of concern in her eyes. Uh, he didn't really say either way, Nicole responded, now wondering for herself what exactly he was planning to do. Well, if you happen to see him again, could you let him know I have an empty futon in my room if he wants a place to stay? Yeah, I guess, if I happen to bump into him.

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19 I feel so bad for him. I mean, he seemed to know what he was doing, Nicole said, reluctant to pity Drew. He should have talked to me, I could have helped him, she said. She drew herself up to her full height and looked wistfully into the distance. Nicole wasn't sure what was worse, the patronizing crouching down like a concerned parent, or her full height so that Nicole could not possibly make comfortable eye contact and was resigned to staring at the floor. Either way, Annise's comment immediately reminded her of why she hadn't ever like Annise; she was a too-tall, self-centered slut. Yeah, he'd certainly be feeling better if it'd been you he met earlier, Nicole said. Annise smiled and nodded, obviously unaware that Nicole had meant to imply that Annise probably would have given him a blow job or something. That or she did get that and was totally okay with it. Really, Nicole could have seen it going either way. Nicole moved her hand in a sort of half-wave, half-salute as she turned and continued to leave. All the other girls had already passed them on their way out, so Nicole felt fairly safe she wouldn't be stopped again. Which is exactly what happened. She had made it all the way out to the main quad when it happened, so she was halfway back to her dorm to begin her weekend of relaxed boredom, when she heard her name being called. Niiiiiic! Nicole stopped and swiveled her head. She knew the voice well, and knew that it could be coming from any direction, and was assuredly arriving at an extremely fast pace. She had just

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20 snapped her head in the right direction fast enough to see Edyn pounce and to give herself whiplash. Nicole bent her legs to brace herself to catch Edyn. She didn't so much catch her as just not fall over while Edyn clung to her side like a maroon-and-pink haired, hyperactive koala. Edyn climbed down from Nicole and laughed her laugh, which seemed too robust for such a tiny frame. What's up, my Nic-a? She asked, verging as always on the entirely inappropriate. Her raspy smoker voice matched her laugh and still seemed completely out of place coming from her mouth, though Nicole had now known her for over a year. Nothing much, I just got out of class, Nicole responded as she pulled the strap of her messenger bag back up onto her shoulder. Boring! Edyn announced. She then skipped forward and suddenly, without realizing it, Nicole was walking along side her. So I take it you didn't go to your classes today then? Nicole asked. What did I just say? Aren't you afraid you're going to fail? You so don't get this place, Edyn said, drawing out the so. What do you mean? Isn't it obvious? They want us to skip classes. I just got chewed out for missing a test. Well, duh, stupid, that's a test. They want you to come to their tests, but then every other day is a test. And you fail by going.

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21 That doesn't make any sense. Now you're getting it. Where are we going? Nicole asked. Somewhere magical! Edyn announced happily with a little hand gesture and a slight prance. We're getting coffee, aren't we? Always, Edyn said. This wasn't entirely true, because if she were always drinking coffee then she wouldn't have time for cigarettes, which also took up a lot of her time. Edyn would insist that their flavors made for the best possible combination, but Nicole wasn't interested in testing that hypothesis. It wasn't even that she was against smoking, she just didn't like the flavor of either, and therefore assumed that she wouldn't like them together. She did, however, somehow enjoy the scent of the cigarettes Edyn obtained in some illegal manner on a weekly basis. This secret trade or sale or rendezvous had happened at least fifty times, and Nicole still didn't have the slightest idea of how Edyn got her cigarettes. And aside from that, she enjoyed Edyn's company. Where most other girls at MPAG took everything so seriously, Edyn seemed to exist purely to find the comedy in any given situation. And the comedy she found was often the most offensive, vile, hilarious comedy there was. Nothing was off-limits to her. She had the mouth of a sailor and the mind of a twenty-four year old man who spent most of his time playing competitive online video games and controlling the darker parts of the internet. No one would expect it from looking at her. Edyn was five feet tall, weighed less than

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22 one hundred pounds, and had the face of a porcelain doll. Her wardrobe consisted of a lot of dresses and tights and scarves, with which she always wore her singular pair of shoes: a bustedup pair of used-to-be-pink-but-have-faded-to-white hi-top Converse on which she had written the lyrics to the entirety of the song Nothing by Summerborn. It was a song that, in Edyn's words, made her feel like she was on fucking fire and she fucking loved it. The pair sat down in a couple of metal outdoor chairs with their warm beverages, Edyn folding her her legs under herself as she did, making herself even smaller. Edyn took the lid off of her coffee and inhaled the steam rolling off of it. I'm about to burn my tongue on you so hard, Edyn whispered to her coffee. Nicole laughed. Don't do it, she warned, as if speaking to a still dog staring at a squirrel hopping leisurely across its path. Edyn held up her middle finger on the hand that wasn't transporting the cardboard cup to her mouth and sipped. She then faked a satisfied mmm with undertones of the obvious scalding that just occurred on her tongue. I told you, Nicole said, shaking her head. Fuck you, I'm in love, Edyn said. At least that's what Nicole finally figured it must have been, because Edyn said it with her tongue dangling out of her mouth. So speaking of love, Edyn said once she had gained control of her speaking organs, I heard you met that new guy. Oh, please, you too? Why is everyone so obsessed with him?

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23 Uh... because he has a penis? And like, not a wrinkly old used up one. Gross. I'm sorry, but Dr. Furst just doesn't do it for me. Gross. You're telling me you wouldn't get with that Drew guy? Can we talk about something else? Ahh, Edyn said, pointing a pink-painted nail at Nicole, you would. If it was between him and Dr. Furst? Yes. I knew it. Okay new topic time, yes? Yes, Nicole said, leaving no time for Edyn to argue, Let's talk about why you always drink your coffee too soon. Edyn sighed and stuck a cigarette in her mouth. The way I see it, she said, the white tip bouncing to the rhythm of her words. She paused to light up, leaving Nicole to wonder how exactly she saw it. Edyn inhaled the smoke, then took a sip of coffee before exhaling, which was probably terrible for her, but she always sighed as if it made her happier than anything else. She wrapped her hands around her cup, the lit cigarette still dangling between the first two fingers of her right hand. The way you see it... Nicole prompted her, seeing that she had forgotten in the joy of her favorite way to slowly die. Oh, right. The way I see it, if I keep dousing my taste buds in boiling liquids, eventually the weak ones will die off and I'll be left with an entirely heat-resistant tongue. It's evolution.

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24 Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Viva la Fahrenheit two-twelve! Edyn shouted, once more taking a drag of her cigarette with a sip of her coffee. The girls laughed and continued to talk about other, non-Drew things. They had watched several customers come and go when Edyn finally discovered how late it had become and announced that she needed to leave. So you're busy tonight, I take it? Nicole asked Edyn, somewhat disappointed. Though she had planned on a night of reading and television and early sleep, she was kind of hoping Edyn could present to her something a little more exciting. Yeah, I've got a gig, Edyn explained, pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. Edyn was a part of an artsy acoustic comedy-pop duo that played in a bookstore somewhere in the closest town. Nicole didn't know where it was, as she had never left campus because it was against school rules. Edyn, however, wasn't hindered in the slightest by conventions of rules or laws or even physics. Edyn had never explained to Nicole how it was she left campus. It wasn't that there was a huge fence or guards or anything; the only barrier were the miles of open forest, which themselves were rumored to contain anything from wolves to bears to yet-undiscovered savage Native American tribes. Nicole didn't believe the latter, of course, but both the animals and her fear of being lost served to keep her out of the forest. Nicole could only assume that Edyn had a friend on the outside who would come to pick her up, driving quietly along the two dirt troughs that were the closest thing to a road Madame Poussin's had. This was not allowed; the road was only there for when the girls were brought in for the first time on the large buses, chatting

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25 excitedly as if they were going off to summer camp. Nicole waved goodbye to Eden, who was running toward her dorm. She had neglected to bring her guitar with her to get coffee, so she couldn't just leave straight from there, and apparently she was crunched for time to get to her mysterious getaway vehicle. Nicole vaguely pictured someone showing up riding a black horse, with a white one just a few steps behind, open for Edyn. The idea didn't seem too ridiculous, considering anything was possible for Edyn. Nicole was headed in the direction of her dorm. She hadn't thought about it, it was just as if her internal compass was pointing her on the path of least excitement. But now that she had even so briefly considered the idea of a more interesting evening, she couldn't seem to settle for her original plans. She spun her messenger bag around to her front and opened it, confirming that Jane Eyre was in it. She patted it fondly and, righting her bag, walked past her building and on toward the forest. Four Nicole slid the photo of herself and her brother between the end of chapter twenty-seven and the beginning of chapter twenty-eight. She looked up at the visible rays of setting sun as it filtered through the trees. Sure, this new plan wasn't much different from her original, only the scenery had changed, but reading alone in the woods was somehow so much better than alone in her room. She closed the book, letting her pointer linger on the page a moment, and looked at the cover. She knew that Jane was supposed to be plain, or even ugly. And maybe the girl on this

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26 cover was to some people. But Nicole thought there was something beautiful about her, and that maybe it came from her plainness. Nicole had seen a lot of different covers to her favorite book. After the first time she had read it she thought briefly that she wanted to have a collection of all the versions. But after seeing a few, she decided that none was as good as her copy. They were all either too ugly, or too beautiful. The ugly ones were all overtly so; it seemed they had been made that way just to be true to the book. Then the beautiful ones were obviously only meant to try to sell in the young adult section next to books with pale half-faces and hands holding flowers on the covers. But hers, hers was as if they had found the actual Jane Eyre and photographed her. She was a plain girl, sure, but her beauty and passion burned obviously. It showed in her eyes and in her determined stare. Nicole's staring contest with Jane was cut short by a twig snapping not far from where she sat. She slowly pulled her knees into her chest, sandwiching Jane Eyre in the process, then held absolutely still. She wasn't afraid, necessarily, but she knew that if there was some animal near her, it would leave her alone as long as she didn't startle it. Hey, you're that girl! said a male voice, belonging to the only male who would be wandering out in the woods surrounding Madame Poussin's and it seemed, after today, the only male in existence. Hey, Drew, Nicole said, relaxing just enough to not look like she had tensed up, and like she had been sitting like that all along. Are you cold or something? Drew asked.

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27 No, Nicole said with a bit of a sigh. She sprawled her legs back out to a more comfortable position, having failed the difficult task of looking natural. Are you okay? Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Well, you were out here in the woods by yourself basically in the fetal position, Drew pointed out. You've been in the woods by yourself for a month and a half, Nicole countered. Ish, Drew said exaggeratedly, as if this negated her point. Nicole laughed. So did Drew. It's different for me though; I chose to be out here. So did I. Well, I prepared myself for it, Drew said, patting his enormous backpack. So did I, Nicole lifted her book and wiggled it in the air a bit. Jane Eyre? Drew asked. Nicole nodded and smiled down at Jane's stoic face. I hated that book, Drew said bluntly. Nicole clutched her beloved novel to her chest once more, her arms crossed in front of it, and looked up at him in disappointed, defensive shock. Drew himself looked shocked by her reaction and defensively asked, What? This is the greatest piece of literature of all time, Nicole stated. No way, Drew said, physically shooing away the notion with his hand. Oh? Then what is? Nicole asked in a bit of a snippy tone. Self-Reliance by Ralph Waldo Emerson, he said, his voice full of certainty. He sat

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28 down against the same tree Nicole was leaning on and put his hands behind his head as if he had just won that argument. Uh, okay, I said of literature, Nicole said. She shot him a look, but he was still in that same position, with his eyes closed in a self-satisfied way that only irritated her more. Yeah, and I said Self-Reliance. That's literature. Anything written is literature; the brochures they give you about insurance options are literature. Well, if you have to compare yours to brochures it must not be very good, Nicole joked. She looked over at him expecting some sassy facial expression, but instead there was one of surprise. You've never read it, have you? He asked. Self-Reliance? Yeah. No. Then how can you know it's not better? He asked with an air of infallibility. Okay, that's the worst argument. That's like saying that just because I've never seen a unicorn it means that they have to exist. Exactly, Drew said, nodding as if she had just proven his point. But unicorns don't exist. I don't need to try to find one to know that. But that's just it, Drew said, rotating his body to face Nicole, You haven't even looked for the unicorn that is Self-Reliance. Which, by the way, is a beautiful white stallion that looks like a unicorn because it's so wonderful but is actually a horse because it really is the greatest

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29 thing ever written. This metaphor is starting to not make any sense, Nicole said. Hey, you picked it. That's just because I didn't want to spring the God thing on you. The God thing? Drew asked. Replace 'unicorn' with 'God'. Oh, Drew said, then, with more understanding, Ohhh... Yeah. So you're an Atheist? He asked. Well I didn't say that, Nicole said. She tended to avoid talking about the issue of a higher power for several reasons. One, it always led to argument of some sort, two, she wasn't even sure what she felt exactly, and three, it would always make her think about the universe and its vastness and her own relative insignificance and she wasn't fond of the feeling that gave her. What do you believe, then? Drew asked. Of course he did. I don't really want to get into it, Nicole said, putting Jane Eyre into her bag, ready to leave. Oh, Drew said, noticing her movements which implied her intention to leave, No, I'm sorry, of course not, it was stupid to ask. I'm sorry. Nicole laughed uncomfortably at his sudden strong reaction. It's okay, I'm not, like, offended, I just don't want to get all universe think-y, she explained, wondering slightly how she had come to be consoling him.

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30 But thinking about the universe is what makes us human! Drew exclaimed, abandoning his previous apologetic tone and adopting one of excited abandon, with his hands thrust proudly into the air. I think walking on two legs and having free will make us human, Nicole said, standing up and pulling her bag onto her shoulder. Drew let his hands drop slowly and looked at Nicole as if she had just said the most fascinating thing he had ever heard. That's beautiful, he stated, affirming it as a fact. Nicole blushed slightly and repressed a smile. Thanks, she said bashfully, I should really go. Are you busy? Drew asked. Nicole looked at the innocent, hopeful look on his face and wondered why exactly she was leaving. She wasn't busy. This was her only plan. She just wanted to leave because she didn't want to be around Drew. But why? His initial spaciness combined with the adoring reactions of her classmates had fueled some innate dislike for him, but all he had done was try to talk to her, and even compliment her. She may not have liked him, but he was at least better than the propensity for existential crises that comes with crippling loneliness in a place one doesn't belong. No, she said, letting the strap of her bag fall heavily from her shoulder into her hand, I guess I'm not busy. Great, so you wanna hang out?

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31 Sure. Five Drew apologized again several times throughout their conversation. In fact, every time he brought up a topic he thought might even fringe on too deep or universe think-y he would stop himself and apologize. And each time Nicole would assure him that it wasn't a problem. In fact, as the twilight set around them, Nicole began to feel the universe calling out to her, begging for her consideration. And for once, she was unafraid. For months she had only ever discussed small things with small people the people she would see again and again. She had feared the universe because she had always had to face it alone. Now, however, she had the company of this mysterious stranger. A stranger who no doubt had looked the universe in the face and told it I am. Nicole could sense that in Drew; it was the bravery that came from surviving alone in the woods for so long, yes, but it was also the bravery that came from complete knowledge and acceptance of oneself. And though he seemed spacey and frantic, Nicole had to admire that courage. And so, fueled by the energy that seemed to be overflowing from Drew, as well as the excitement that comes from the thrill of being just under the perfect temperature while outside at night, Nicole asked Drew the one question that was certain to incite deeper conversation. The four words which would open the wormhole to life and death and Gods and the Universe and telling it I am, or indeed, we are. What are you transcending? Drew looked at her, silently asking for permission to answer. He was afraid of getting too

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32 deep, because he thought that Nicole was avoiding it, but it was obvious, too, that he had wanted to explain this and had probably been rehearsing it the whole time he was in the woods, alone, transcending. Well, he began. The nervous excitement shook his voice a little, but he soon conquered it and relaxed into his story. It began during his junior year of high school. He attended a private, all-boys Catholic school, at which his favorite class was his English class on American literature. He went through colonial works and the writings of founding fathers with no significant enjoyment, but then they reached 1830, and the Transcendentalists. And it just stuck with him. Sure, he paid attention for the rest of the year, but he always went back to the beauty of the ideology. He loved the idea that man and nature were the most important. He loved that the hardships of material life were simply to be overcome, and that the way beyond them was over. And eventually he began to align himself with the idea that institutions like private schools and Catholicism were corrupting society, as well as his own personal being. So he spent the rest of the year and most of the summer planning it: his escape from establishment and materialism out into the wilderness to be self-reliant. He left in the middle very early hours of the morning of August fourth, leaving only a note for his parents. He had no siblings. He said that his parents were fairly accepting, and though he hadn't heard from them as he had no way to hear from them he was fairly certain that they understood why he needed to do this.

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33 The only problem with this was that he had promised to be back before school started again. This would have been September first, eleven days prior to his arrival at Madame Poussin's. So while he knew his parents would be okay with an impromptu, cost-free, solo summer vacation, he suspected they may be disappointed when he didn't return for the start of his senior year. I was going to apply to Harvard, he told her. There was a tinge of sadness added to his overall explanatory tone. But now? Nicole prompted. But now I don't know. Harvard has a really solid history for Transcendentalists, but that doesn't even really matter anymore. Plus... He trailed off. Plus what? I'm just so much happier this way. Living on my own, not worrying about anything really, except making sure my food is cooked all the way. Drew had also explained how exactly living in the wilderness worked, down to the details Nicole hadn't exactly wanted to hear. He really was self-reliant. Don't you get lonely? She asked. Drew paused. It was the first question she had asked that he didn't have an immediate answer for. She guessed he hadn't considered this when he imagined how this conversation would go all those countless times. Then again, he couldn't possibly have predicted he would be telling his story to someone so experienced in loneliness. I guess so, he said after a while, seeming to not be fully convinced by his own answer,

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34 I don't really pay much attention to it though. The thing about self-reliance is that you can't rely on anyone else. Loneliness is right there in the name. So I guess I just got used to it. But what about at first? Nicole asked. She wasn't entirely sure why she was so persistent on the matter. It was as if she needed some confirmation that other people feel the way she so often did; particularly from this boy, who had every reason to feel lonesome. Drew laughed somewhat uncomfortably, holding up his hands as if surrendering and saying, I don't know. Maybe. I think we've gone into this enough. Nicole was confused. He'd been so excited to talk about it earlier. And he had seemed to open in his willingness to tell her extremely private details about other matters. So why was he uncomfortable now? She realized then how dark it had grown around them. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, nearly blinding herself as the screen lit. It was ten-seventeen. That meant that Drew had been dominating this rather one-sided conversation for more than two hours; maybe he was just tired of talking so much. Okay, that's fine, she told him in a tone reminiscent of Drew's apologies. The finality of it and the time made her remember what she had told Annise, and she asked, Hey, so are you planning on sleeping outside tonight? Yeah, I thought I might. It's not like I'm not used to it or anything. Well, uh, she paused then. She recalled Annise's offer, but not as quickly as she recalled how much she hated Annise, It's getting colder than it was in August, you know? Drew looked around as if he was checking to see visible signs of the drop in temperature

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35 and shrugged. Well, Nicole continued, you could come inside if you wanted. All the rooms have a futon, and you're welcome to mine if you like. A part of her couldn't believe her offer, and wanted to take it back. But another part was thrilled by the sheer act of being uncharacteristic. But the first part was bigger. Why the hell did she just offer to let this stranger she had met that morning and who she had actually been rather annoyed by stay in her room? She guessed it had to do with Annise. This was why she hated competition; it always brought out the worst in people, but disguised itself at excitement. Thanks, but really, I'm fine, Drew said to her relief, It's actually been a little too hot at night. I have a really high-quality sleeping bag. Gift from my dad for bridging from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts. I think tonight may actually be a really nice night. I hope so, for your sake, Nicole said, smiling because she was being nice and because she had gotten out of her momentary lapse of judgment so easily, Well, good night then, I guess. Good night, Nicole, Drew said, already beginning to unroll his sleeping bag. Nicole hesitated a moment, then nodded and spun around, aiming herself back toward her dorm. It felt a little strange, leaving so suddenly. She guessed it was from the intimacy of her offer, but she felt like she should have hugged him, or at least shook his hand or something. Some physical acknowledgment that those past few hours had been real and appreciated. She shook her head though, erasing the thought from her mind. She was being ridiculous. She didn't need to offer up her room, and she didn't need to hug him. She didn't even need to talk to him, though she felt that

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36 had been entirely for his benefit. She got the sense that the whole process was extremely cathartic for him, and that the story he'd told her had been welling up inside him for more than a month, collecting from the actual actions to a recollection, then gathering grammar and syntax until the whole thing was a prepared speech lined up at the back of his throat ready to march out at her command. Well, not necessarily her command. It could have been anyone. It wasn't as if there was a shortage of girls who would listen to him talk. So why had he chosen her? From the sound of it, he didn't so much as speak to another girl. What made her so special? It wasn't as if she was the only girl more comfortable listening than speaking, and even if she was, how could Drew have been able to tell that without talking to anyone else to see if she would listen just as well? Nicole tried to let it drop from her mind. She began counting her steps and monitoring her breath anything to try to get her focus elsewhere. But try as she might she kept coming back to that one thought: why me? It was precisely this that she was thinking when she put her key in her door to find that it was already unlocked. This gave Nicole no hints about whether Melanie would be in the room or not; she never locked the door either way. She was, however, and Nicole nearly stepped on her head, which was just out of reach of the door as it swung open inwardly. Whoa, hey, Nicole said as she tried to shift her forward momentum anywhere other than onto Melanie's serene face. She opened one eye then closed it again. Hello, she breathed. What... Whatcha doin' on the floor? Nicole asked

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37 I'm feeling the ground beneath me and the air above me and slowly erasing my outline, she explained. Oh, Nicole said, still not entirely understanding, You couldn't do that a little further away from the door? I needed my head to face North. Also doorways allow for the most spiritual flow. This is really the optimal position. Isn't there, like, more chi outside or something? Melanie's eyes shot open and she lifted herself onto her elbows. Is it cold outside? It's a little chilly, I guess, Nicole said, and while she said it Melanie hopped up from the floor, grabbed an oversized cardigan that was hanging from her bedpost, and skipped out of the room, leaving the door not only unlocked, but wide open. Nicole sort of laughed and sighed at the same time and closed the door. She left it unlocked, as she felt fairly certain Melanie didn't bring her key. In fact, she wasn't even really sure if Melanie had a key, considering how often she left the door unlocked and came in through the window. But that was Melanie, and Nicole was already too confused for one evening to even begin to understand her roommate, so she went to sleep. Six Nicole knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. She wasn't sure how, exactly. It wasn't that it was abnormally silent or that Melanie had never returned; neither was the case. Something just felt off.

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38 Then someone knocked rapidly at her door, reminding her of the time that happened seconds ago and actually woke her up. So much for her intuition. But she was curious nonetheless. She looked over at Melanie as she walked to the door. She was sleeping, curled up in a ball, with one ear bud in her ear and the other one tied in a knot around itself, lying on her pillow. She opened the unlocked door a few inches as quietly as she could. Standing outside with a look of subtle horror on her face was Sadie Mahon. Nicole had had a few classes with Sadie, and had talked to her a few times. She always felt like they could be friends but for some reason they just weren't. It wasn't that they were enemies or anything, they were just destined, it seemed, to always only be acquaintances. That being so, Nicole couldn't figure out why Sadie was knocking on her door and looking so anxious at eight in the morning on a Saturday. What's up? Nicole asked, but when she opened her mouth Sadie had already started talking, and she missed most of what she had to say. I'm sorry, what? That guy? Drew? He's in the hospital, and he asked for you. Nicole just stared at her through the six-inch opening between the door and the frame. She wanted to jump to action, or ask for clarification, or say something, but it was as if her mind went completely blank. Her face must have too, because Sadie narrowed her eyes at her in confusion. So... are you coming? Sadie asked. She asked it slowly, as if she wasn't sure Nicole would understand. Nicole shook her head, trying to loosen the cobwebs. Yeah, Nicole said, then with more enthusiasm, Yeah, yes. Yes. I am. Let me put on

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39 shoes. Nicole shoved her un-socked feet into a pair of tied Converse, flattening the backs under her heels, and followed Sadie out of the room. Shouldn't you lock your Not important, Nicole interrupted. Sadie nodded quickly, accepting this and following Nicole down the hallway en route to the Health Building. The two walked quickly and silently. Nicole still couldn't quite hear her thoughts; they seemed to have been replaced with wasps, all buzzing and flapping their wings and stinging her brain occasionally. She didn't even think to wonder why he might be there; she only seemed to come up with thoughts that placed blame on herself. She should have insisted. She should have offered something less suggestive. For all she knew he could have stayed in the hospital bed overnight not needing it, instead of laying there now with bandages or casts or tubes all over him. The girls walked into the Health Building and took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor, which was where all the actual doctor stuff was; emergency rooms, regular check-up rooms, and the pharmacy. The second floor housed the Mental Wellness Services, and the first floor was a gym. Nicole had never thought of it before, but it seemed like they could have put the more important one on the first floor. The third floor was buzzing with chattering girls. Nicole looked around in shock (well, in added shock, as she was already in shock) and wondered vaguely if they were all here to see Drew. The thought dropped from her mind as she was pulled forward by the wrist on toward the

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40 first of the emergency rooms. Sadie held back the curtain and motioned for Nicole to go in ahead of her. She couldn't even see Drew, as the tall, slender body of Annise was blocking him. She turned over her shoulder and gave Nicole an icy glare. Nicole stopped in her tracks, feeling a bit like a child who had broken a vase and hid it behind the sofa and just walked in on her mom cleaning up the bits of shattered ceramics. Hey, Nicole! Drew said excitedly, freeing her from her frozen position. Nicole smiled a little nervously and stepped up to the other side of the bed in a few large steps. She stood then, across from Annise, who was still giving her murder eyes over Drew's reclined body. Drew looked between them concernedly. So, Nicole began, rocking backward on her heels in extreme situational discomfort, I see you met Annise. Oh, Drew said, the smile faltering from his face as he looked up at the too-gorgeous blonde, as if remembering that she was still there, Yeah. We were talking about you, actually. Excellent! Nicole burst out too loudly, knowing that this was, in fact, the opposite of excellent, Anything specific? Drew and Annise shared a look, then Annise adopted a wry smile and looked pointedly elsewhere. Nope, Drew said simply, the warm smile returning to his face. Nicole shoved her teeth together and forced a smile. So what happened? Nicole asked.

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41 Drew was about to respond when a nurse walked in. She didn't even seem to look at any of them but authoritatively stated, One visitor at a time, please. Oh, right, sorry, Drew said to the nurse, then he turned his gaze up to Annise, Annise, would you mind? Annise faked a short, sweet laugh, saying, Of course, and leaving the room, but not before shooting Nicole through the skull with her eye-bullets. Nicole glared in turn at the perfect wavy blond curls which bounced against her back as she left the little room. She hated her stupid willow tree body and her stupid honeysuckle voice and her stupid, beautiful, terrifying eyes. You were saying? Drew asked. Nicole suddenly remembered why exactly she was there in the first place. What happened? She asked. She surveyed his body. There weren't any casts, though he was hooked up to a heart rate monitor. She couldn't remember if that was just something they did for everyone who came to the emergency room though. He wasn't on an IV. Finally she saw it; a soaked-through bandage wrapped around his bare rib cage. She really should have noticed it sooner... Nicole? Drew asked, snapping her back from her investigation. Yes? She asked, now alert and ready to hear his story. I said I was attacked by some sort of animal. I couldn't really see what it was, but I think it might have been like a wolf or a coyote or something. Anyway, it bit me right here, he pointed to the red section of his gauze. Oh my god, that's terrible, Nicole said. She felt uncomfortable. She had never been

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42 good at condolences. She looked at Drew, who was just nodding slowly. Nicole couldn't think of anything more to say. Nicole looked over at the nurse, who was rifling through a drawer. She pulled out a pen and clicked it triumphantly, then proceeded to scribble something on her clipboard. Okay, the nurse said as she finished whatever word or symbol she had been writing, I'm just gonna go get you your proper paperwork and then whenever you're feeling up to it you'll be free to go. Drew thanked the nurse, who smiled brightly and left through the curtains, revealing a flash of Annise leaning against a wall just outside. But the nurse closed the curtain behind her, and Nicole didn't have to deal with that just yet. Nicole looked around the room while Drew tested a few pokes at his side. So, Nicole began, Is it gonna leave a cool scar? She regretted it the moment she finished saying it, but luckily Drew didn't seem to be laughing at her so much as at what she said. Which was good. She had meant for it to be light-hearted. The coolest, he asserted, Man, I wish I could show you. I swear, you can see every single tooth. The two laughed, but soon a silence fell. Nicole had just begun to read a poster of a kidney on the wall when Drew made a noise of hesitation, breaking the silence. Uh... are you wearing pajamas? He asked. Nicole looked down at her red plaid flannel pants and the tee shirt from a summer arts program her parents had made her go to when she was twelve. She blushed.

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43 Oh, yeah, I guess I am. I kind of left in a hurry, she explained. Drew laughed, and Nicole joined him eventually, but that soon died out as her curiosity overcame her, and she asked in a whisper, So what did Annise say about me? Ah, come on, Nicole, Drew said, as if already telling her to lighten up about hating her, though she hadn't yet said this to Drew and to her knowledge he had missed all of the glaring that took place around him moments ago, I mean, I know you don't like her... She had been wrong. ...But she's actually really nice. She offered to let me stay with her. He said the last part as if it was an excuse, in a sort of on the bright side tone that, coupled with its actual content, made Nicole physically feel her face drop. What? He asked, noting her sudden shift in mood. Nothing, she said entirely too quickly, I just... remembered something I have to get done. You know, for school class and stuff. I should go to another place and do that. Bye, Drew, get well soon. She said the last three words so quickly that they all just became one word; getwellsoon. Wait, Drew called after her, but she had already closed the curtain behind her. In the hallway she made eye contact with Annise. She hadn't meant to. In fact, she had purposefully tried not to make eye contact with Annise. But it happened anyway, and Nicole witnessed her entire series of emotions play out on the blank, beautiful screen of her face. She was confrontational at first; Nicole knew she was going to be angry that she obviously hadn't kept her word about telling Drew he could sleep in her room because obviously

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44 if she had then he would have obviously taken her up on the offer. But in seeing how quickly she was leaving, and the redness in her cheeks from her sudden rush of anger and the lingering embarrassment of having made Annise's offer her own and been turned down, Annise lit up. Her closed-mouth smile seemed to curl up into spirals on her furry green face. She then turned to excited. Nicole could see the idea written on her forehead and knew that such an occurrence was rare for Annise but that she liked the sensation. And finally her eyes narrowed in a sultry, snakelike way, and she slithered in through the curtains, almost before they had even stopped moving. Seven Nicole laughed in one short, cynical chuckle and kept walking. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't process what had just happened and what was no doubt happening now that she had left; she was just letting her anger lead her blindly. It was leading her in the direction of her dorm when she ran into Edyn. Edyn was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing the last time Nicole saw her. Whoa, where were you just now? Edyn asked. Apparently Nicole had done a terrible job of trying not to look angry. I might ask you the same question, Nicole said, giving Edyn a pointed up-and-down. Edyn looked down at her own clothes. Oh, right, that, Edyn said, nodding fondly at her day-old outfit, Yeah, I just got back on campus like five minutes ago. Seriously? Yeah, well, after Anything Everyone finished up, we were just packing up our guitars

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45 when this guy walked up to tell us he liked our set, and it turned out it was fucking Jim Gulley. Edyn was obviously excited about this, and was waiting for Nicole to join in her excitement, which led Nicole to believe Edyn had probably already explained who fucking Jim Gulley was, but as it was, given Nicole's current state of mind and her general inability to remember names, she had no idea why Edyn was so excited. The lead singer of Time Space Insignia? Nicole was still blank. Edyn sighed heavily. One of my top five favorite bands that still currently make music, She explained hurriedly. Oh, Nicole said as if she suddenly remembered, but slowly she allowed her nodding to turn into shaking as she admitted that she still didn't recognize either name whatsoever. Well, whatever, you get that I was excited. Anyway, he asked us to come to this show he was having in Pittsburgh and told us we could come backstage after and hang out, so of course we said yes and then after that we went out for drinks and honestly I'm still a little drunk. Does he know you're sixteen? Does that matter if he bought? Edyn asked, raising an eyebrow. Yes. Yes it does. Oh. Well, no, I think he thinks I'm like twenty-two. But that doesn't matter, I'm not gonna date him or anything. Although how cool would that be? How old is he? Nicole asked. How old is he? Edyn repeated, laughing as if this was the most ridiculous question she

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46 had ever heard, Nicole, maybe you didn't understand the part where I said he's the lead singer of a famous band that I happen to love. How old? Hey, where were you this morning, Edyn asked, blatantly changing the subject, You looked like you might murder me when I first saw you. Nicole considered re-opening the subject of Edyn's band man's age, but she knew that when Edyn made a decision, that was the end of it. Sure, she was concerned for her friend, but Edyn was tough, and she could take care of herself. Nicole, however, felt that she definitely needed some assistance in sorting out everything that had happened in the last eighteen hours. I was at the Health Building. Drew got bit by a wolf or something, Nicole explained. Oh my god, that's bad ass. Yeah, it'll leave a wicked sweet scar, we talked about that, Nicole said quickly and dryly. So why you mad? Edyn asked, moving her head in a sassy circle. Because I'm an idiot. Okay, but why recently? Nicole gave her a look, begging her for one of the more rare aspects from Edyn: her seriousness. Okay, fine, I'll be good, Edyn agreed. Nicole began to explain the situation, starting with the first conversation she had with Drew, in a hushed voice as they walked to Edyn's room for privacy.

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47 Edyn's room was dark from a very effective window shade, but lit by blinking icicle-style Christmas lights. The floor was littered with music notebooks, sheet music, guitar picks, and album covers. In this way it was a lot like what half of Nicole's room looked like namely Melanie's half. It was also a lot like what Nicole imagined every other room looked like. But there was something distinctly Edyn about Edyn's room. It might have been that she called it Eden and had a poster of Masaccio's Expulsion from the Garden of Eden hanging on the outside of the door, which several other tenants had complained about, whom Edyn had promptly ordered to go fuck themselves with their mothers' dildoes. It was on her door for the sake of the whole being cast out of Eden thing, but it was on the outside of her door because she personally thought it was atrocious. And Edyn found the combination of those two things hilarious, so that's why she refused to take it down. That's what it was. That's what was so Edyn about Edyn's Eden: everything in there was either something she passionately loved or that made her laugh. Nothing was there to impress anyone else; it really was just Edyn's room. Of course, she shared this room. Edyn's roommate was nearly Edyn's opposite; she was quiet and cool. So cool. Dreadlocks cool. Long board cool. Hey, man, it's cool cool. But luckily their tastes in dcor matched enough for the room to look like it could have belonged to just one incredibly quirky cool funny girl. ...And then I ran into you, Nicole finished in one quick exhale. She waited for Edyn to speak, but she was just giving her some cryptic face. What? You like him.

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48 I do not. Then why you mad? Edyn asked again, mimicking her tone from earlier. Because Annise is a bitch! A bitch who's trying to hook up with your boyfriend? No. Just a regular bitch. He's not my boyfriend. Well, let's take a look at the facts, Edyn said, standing up from her bed and beginning to count on her fingers, One, he only really talks to you, two, you don't like when he talks to other girls... Not true, Nicole interrupted, but Edyn carried right along, a little louder than before. Three, you offered to let him sleep in your room, and four, you freaked out when you found out he was in the ER. You like him. I don't like him. I'm just... worried about him. He's been living in the woods for a month, he could have some sort of latent disease he doesn't even know about yet. Well, so could you. So could anyone. Anyone could have malignant cancer cells amassing somewhere in their body right now and not even know, Edyn whispered the last few words. That's not funny. I know, it's fucking terrifying. Well, anyway, that's what happened, and that's why I was mad, and that's all. No hidden nonsense. That's just it. Edyn looked at her skeptically but didn't take up the offensive.

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49 So what are you going to do now? Edyn asked. Nicole flopped forward on the bed and buried her face in Edyn's pillow, mumbling a highly muffled I don't know. Well what were you going to do before you ran into me? Iunno, she uttered, less of a sentence and more of a series of a muted noise. Then why are we even here? I'm sleeping, Nicole said, bringing her face off the pillow enough to rotate onto her side. Well, as forward-thinking as I am, I still don't want to share my bed with you. It's not that you're a woman, it's that you're special to me and I think you should take me out on at least three dates first. How many times have I paid for your coffee? Oh yeah, She said wistfully, Okay, so do you want to wear the strap-on or should I? Okay, I'm leaving. We can take turns, Edyn fake-begged. Thanks for listening, Nicole said, smiling with still half-closed eyes as she sat up on the bed. Dude, I know we were just talking about having sex, but that's gay. Nicole laughed and bid her friend goodbye. Her plan now was to go back to her room and continue sleeping, because she really was tired. But by the time she got back to her room and looked at the clock it was staring back at her with a face that read start your day. And so she

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50 did. Nicole always had a problem with feeling like she was wasting time by sleeping, so she rarely napped. This was somewhat negated by the fact that she would spend those few hours she would have been asleep being exhausted and doing absolutely nothing productive. But somehow this felt better than sleeping. So she took the opportunity to take a shower. It was fairly quiet; of the five available showers in the bathroom on her floor only three were taken, and only one of those girls was singing. It was usually much more melodious, with several girls singing whatever varied songs they had stuck in their heads that Nicole had otherwise never heard. Once three girls had actually joined up in singing some song together, which had been extremely awkward for Nicole, receiving her own personal naked concert, as she had been right between them. This time however the singer was kind enough to keep her voice mostly confined to her own personal space, as much as one can contain a voice in a tile-walled bathroom. Nicole finished and dressed quickly, then sat on her bed with a towel wrapped lazily around her hair. She stared forward, overcome with the notion that the most exciting thing that would happen to her this weekend had already happened. That was how her weekends typically went; she would mostly sit, occasionally breaking to look at the homework for one of her classes, then to ultimately decide that it could wait for Sunday night, when she would curse this thought. But such was life as a procrastinator. She decided, instead of attempting her homework for her class in Gendered Psychology, to return to Jane Eyre to see her through her few days of homelessness before meeting St. John and his sisters.

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51 When she had last closed the book was her favorite moment; when Jane leaves Rochester. Sure, she loved their great love affair, but if Jane had just given in and married him even though he was already married to the insane woman who lived in the attic, well, then she wouldn't be Jane Eyre. Much how Edyn wouldn't be Edyn if she removed the horrific poster from the outside of her door. So while that moment is one of triumph for her character, the following chapter is extremely sorrowful, and as Nicole was tired and had already been through several intense emotions that day, she was reduced to tears, reading as rapidly as she could through the bleariness to try to help Jane to get to safety faster. It was at that moment that Drew entered her room. Surprise, he began excitedly, but then he seemed to notice her state of emotion, Hey, what's wrong, are you okay? Whoa, knock much? Nicole asked, pawing frantically at her eyes to rub away the residual tears and redness. I'm sorry, it's just that the door was open, and... The door was open? Well, cracked. You still should have knocked, Nicole said, her voice slightly altered from crying. She turned away from him to better fix her appearance. I'm sorry, he said sincerely. He then took a step back into the hallway and rapped lightly on the open door, Is it okay if I come in? Nicole looked over at him, with his apologetic smile and clothes that looked like they had

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52 actually been washed. Sure, fine, why not, she conceded. Though she had tried to hide it, she knew he had already seen her crying, so she may as well not make it worse by letting him assume what it was about. Drew took one large step into the room. So are you going to tell me why you were crying? I wasn't crying, I was just a little teary-eyed. Teary-eyed about what? He asked, seeming to be genuinely concerned, or at least interested. I she was going to tell him the truth immediately. What did she have to be ashamed of? But when it actually came time to say I'm crying about Jane Eyre, it felt so foolish to her. Nothing, it's stupid, she said. Is this about me, because Drew began, but Nicole cut him off firmly. No! No. It's not that, trust me. Then is it Annise? No! Nicole nearly shouted. As foolish as crying about a fictional character was, it wasn't as foolish as crying over something some bitch maybe said to some guy who didn't even matter. Then what is it? He asked. By this point he had made it over next to her bed, upon whose edge she was perched. He had crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet, and was looking up at her with all the sincerity of a life-long friend. Nicole smiled and blushed, and had to look away from Drew's intense gaze before she

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53 could say, I was crying because I just got to this really sad part in Jane Eyre, okay? It doesn't always make me cry, but I don't know, I'm tired and a lot has happened lately and she was alone and starving even though she made the right decision and... she trailed off then to compose herself, as she had begun to choke up again now that she was saying it all out loud. She looked at Drew, still crouching before her when she felt it was safe to look down without gravity pulling any stray tears from her face. He was smiling at her strangely. What? She asked. That's beautiful, He said simply. Nicole rolled her eyes. It's not beautiful, it's stupid. No, no, no, it's beautiful that you can be so invested in this character, so immersed in this metaphysical world that it produces in you a real, physical reaction. That's the beauty of literature. It's like how the work of the Transcendentalists inspired me to transcend and to become self-reliant, and And Charlotte Bronte inspired me to cry, Nicole finished for him dryly. Well, I was going to say to empathize with her protagonist, but I guess that's how that happened, so to speak. I guess, Nicole conceded. Drew smiled somewhat triumphantly and stood in one smooth movement. He motioned toward the bed. May I? Sure. He sat beside her, a respectful distance away, then looked at her sternly again.

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54 So nothing else is bothering you? Should something else be bothering me? Well, he hesitated, as if making a decision on how to proceed, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but it has to do with something Annise said. That's a lie. Whatever she told you. Lie. She said you were, uh, unique, and That's not the word she used, is it? No, no it wasn't, I'm paraphrasing. But then she said that she didn't know how you even got in, and I told her that that was ridiculous because you're so smart, and she said that it's not about being smart, and I was like well what kind of school does it not take intelligence to get into, and she said this kind of school, so I asked her what it did take, and she just said that the recruiters had to 'see something in you,' whatever that means Wait, what? I've never heard of that. I was told my adviser at my old school released my transcript and I was offered a scholarship. Really, Drew stated more than asked. I told you she was lying. Maybe, Drew said, nodding and really considering the possibility. Nicole wasn't actually sure that Annise would necessarily lie about her, but she was sure that Annise was trying to do something that involved her and Drew. Maybe she was trying to steal him away from her or something, but Nicole didn't see how that was possible considering she in know way had Drew. What's this school like? Drew asked, interrupting her thoughts regarding Annise's evil

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55 ulterior motives. Or what Annise would consider her ulterior motives. To Nicole, of course, her tricks were nothing because Drew was fair game. And they weren't even fighting over him. It's, uh... she began, but she didn't know quite how to describe Madame Poussin's Academy for Girls. So she started with the obvious; it was an all-girls private school with no religious affiliation. She then told him about the classes she was taking, and the classes she had taken, and the classes offered and not offered. She told him about the various clubs, ranging from the string choir to meditation club to lock picking club. Then she told him about the other girls who went there. How they were all with no exception pretty, and almost all with the exception of Nicole herself quirky and strange and passionate and lively and a million other things. Hey, don't be down on yourself, you're all those things too, Drew said, trying to be sympathetic and complimentary. No, I'm not. And I'm not being down on myself. I'm not into weird, underground music and I don't just randomly go on adventures. I read, mostly. And I'm just fine with that. That's great, you should be, Drew offered, but Nicole wasn't interested in being flattered. In describing her school she was beginning to realize just how strange it was, especially as compared with Drew's school, where they took math and biology and didn't compare those concepts to the inevitability of death on a regular basis. She was beginning to think that maybe what Annise had hinted at hadn't been a total blatant lie meant to somehow incriminate Nicole. Do you think they would have lied to me? Nicole asked suddenly. She had taken a break from explaining the school to come to such realizations, and the question took Drew by

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56 surprise. Do I think who would have lied to you? My advisers? The admissions people? My parents? No, I don't think so. It's probably not even legal for your advisers to lie to you about your own scholarships. I guess that makes sense, Nicole said, though this hardly stopped her from wondering if every authority figure she'd ever had had been lying to her about something so important as where she would learn and live for three years straight. In thinking about it something struck her, and she asked rhetorically, You know what's weird, though? What? I don't remember ever seeing any paperwork about it. Or anything. I didn't sign anything, and I didn't even really decide. This was just sort of thrust upon me and I went; it felt like there were no other options. I guess my parents just thought it was such a good opportunity... That's weird though, right? It all seems a little weird, to be honest. Hey, I was gonna leave here, but I think maybe I'll stick around and try to help you figure this out. Whaddya say, sleuth? I say you're making too big a deal of this. It's not some film noir, she said as a caveat before finally deciding, But I think it couldn't hurt to dig a little, find some stuff out. Sleuth? Drew asked like an excited, hopeful child asking for ice cream. Okay, fine, sleuth. Eight

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57 The following week passed uneventfully, and Nicole heard very little from Drew, other than that he had gotten the nurse to agree to let him sleep in one of the hospital beds, so long as he agreed to give it up if anyone ever needed it at any time, and if he would assist with a few custodial duties. So it was a surprise to her when he was standing outside of her last class on Friday with his apparently empty backpack slung on one shoulder and a serious look on his face. What's up? She asked, only she meant it as a way of asking why he was there, and not just a casual greeting. Drew either realized this or was too focused on what he was about to tell her to notice. I have something to show you, he said, his voice low and grave. What is it? She asked, matching his volume level. Not here, he said, looking around shiftily, Is your room available? Okay, I know you're trying to be discreet right now but you're just making yourself look more suspicious, Nicole said at her normal volume. Drew deflated a little. And I don't know if my room is available. It usually is. But I honestly have no idea what Melanie's schedule is, and if she even follows it if she has one, so I can't really predict when she'll be in the room. I guess that'll have to do. The two walked hurriedly to Nicole's room, which they found to be both unlocked and empty. She shut and locked the door behind them. She was unsure of whether there was an official rule banning boys from being in girls' rooms, with the door closed or otherwise, or if that was just implied by there being no boys within several miles. Usually.

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58 So what is it? Nicole asked, turning away from the door and walking over to the middle of the floor where Drew had placed his backpack and was now unzipping it. This, He said, pulling out a very old-looking book. It was small in every dimension, especially thickness, with dark brown hard covers, I found it in this weird attic above the headmaster's office. Why were you in a weird attic above the headmaster's office? I was looking for something like this, Drew replied simply. How did you even know the attic was there? I didn't know there was an attic above the headmaster's office. That's because you don't pay attention to your surroundings, miss. It's something you pick up in the School of Transcendentalism. Okay, she said, brushing off his joke, if you could call it that, Well, have you read it? What does it say? I haven't read it yet, but I read this, he opened the front cover and turned the first blank page to the title page. It read: An Academical Proposition for the Betterment of Young Women. By Richard Lindhart. He turned the page to the dedication: This, as with everything, is for my beloved Camille Poussin. May the future be full of more like you. That will be my ultimate gift to you. Then Drew slammed the book shut and shoved it under Nicole's pillow as the doorknob jiggled and someone knocked on the door.

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59 That's probably Melanie, Nicole whispered, getting up to unlock the door. Why was the door locked? Melanie asked in a voice that a puppy would have when his owner leaves for work and he asks where are you going? Oh, uh... Nicole fished around her head for a lie, but she didn't lie often, nor did she lock the door often enough to say she just sort of forgot. Were you having sex? She asked as innocently as if she had been asking if they were playing Candyland. No, Drew answered immediately. Yes, Nicole answered also immediately, so that their contradictory statements perfectly overlapped each other. Drew gave her a look as if asking what the hell? to which Nicole responded with a look that asked do you have a better plan? to which he shrugged in concession. Melanie still looked shocked and confused. What we mean is, we were about to. Then you came in. Oh, Melanie said, as if this was a perfectly viable explanation that needed no further clarification. She sort of skipped into the room, hopped onto her bed, and began pulling notebooks out of her backpack and creating a nest of papers about her. Uh, Melanie? Nicole asked. Melanie looked up with a smile on her face. What? Aren't you going to leave? Why, I just got here? Exasperated even in this false situation, Nicole sighed and gestured toward Drew.

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60 Ohh, you were serious? You know, Drew said, I think I actually have to leave. Earn my keep and all that. But Nicole, just remember to, uh... read. Both Nicole and Melanie gave him a strange look. He looked at them both with his terrible poker face, nodded, then left. Nicole rolled her eyes at his antics. She watched Melanie, slowly moving her pillow and the book beneath it toward the edge of the bed each time she looked away, until she was finally able to slide it into her messenger bag. She bid Melanie goodbye and headed for the only other private place on campus she felt she could really call her own: the space in the woods against the tree where she had met Drew for the second time. She supposed this could be his space too, but in light of what needed to be done there, that would work out just fine. She looked around herself frequently as she walked to the spot, but particularly as she entered the woods. She gave one last full examination as she sat before making herself comfortable and opening the book. An Academical Proposition for the Betterment of Young Women. By Richard Lindhart. She turned the page and read once more the dedication. This, as with everything, is for my beloved Camille Poussin. May the future be full of more like you. That will be my ultimate gift to you. It confused her more than it had the first time, now that she really had time to think about it. She decided that it would all make sense once she read the rest of the book, and turned the

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61 page. Nine, or, An Academical Proposition for the Betterment of Young Women Chapter One, Or, How I Came to Know Camille Poussin I was walking to the bridge where I would kill myself when I saw her. She was beautiful; pale, porcelain skin, long, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes which looked into my very being. Were it any other day, and were she any other girl, I would not have paid her any mind. She would have only been another girl I would never attain. But seeing as she had just saved my life, I thought I should at least pay her my thanks. Her voice when she told me You're welcome, but what are you thanking me for? was like a song. She had a hint of a French accent, as if she might have been born in France, but moved to America when she was young. Or perhaps she had been born in America to French immigrants. In either case, I wanted to find out, to have that fact, the origin of her slight accent, become a part of my knowledge repertoire. We spoke briefly that day, as she very soon had to be going. We only exchanged names, and in response to her question I told her, Just thank you, and she did not press me on the matter. I bade her farewell, knowing in my very soul that this could not be goodbye; I would one day learn the story of her accent. I would imagine the many ways that conversation could go in the next couple of days. Each time I imagined it there was something new; something she would bring up on her own that would just prove to me how perfect she was: she had been born in France, where her family

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62 owned several collies; she had been born in America, but had moved to France shortly after, then moved back so that she might attend an American boarding school; She was half French Canadian on her mother's side, but she really wanted to learn Swedish. I visited the bridge where we met and where I might have died daily, hoping I would see her there, as that was the place I envisioned our conversations, and that was the place surrounding her in my nightly dreams. But she was never there. I would stand there, scanning the crowd for her perfect face, watching the river rush beneath me, simultaneously pulled by the possibilities supplied by both. Then I would retire when an hour had passed, convinced that the following day would be the day I saw her again and learned of her accent. I would not see her again for a year and a half. It was summer for our first encounter, and the second occurred December twenty-fourth, nineteen fifty four. It happened in a large department store in downtown Philadelphia. I was there to watch the confused masses vie for last-minute material goods, and as I scanned the crowd, searching, as I always did, for her face, I saw it. I could not believe my eyes for a moment, as they had oft so cruelly misinformed me of her presence, but lo, it was her. I walked shyly up to her, unsure whether she would remember me. I asked her if she was there to shop, and she replied that no, she was there to watch the confused masses vie for lastminute material goods. At least, she may as well have. She said that she was people-watching and that gifts bought on Christmas Eve say a lot about both the buyer and the receiver. It was beautiful. It was a beautiful thought, expressed by a beautiful girl with a beautiful hint of an accent.

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63 I told her that her accent was beautiful, and asked where it was from, and she responded, in her beautiful accent what accent? I let it drop, because I realized that it was better as a mystery; that women as beautiful as Camille Poussin should remain mysterious; that there should be more women like Camille Poussin. Chapter Two, Or, The Problem With the World and What I Learned from Camille Poussin There is not a doubt in my mind that Camille Poussin is the reason I am alive today to write all of this, and for that I am endlessly thankful. However, I know that there must be thousands of young men, like myself, who suffer from crippling self-doubt. It is a well-known fact that some of the greatest and most intelligent men in history have been depressed: Edgar Allen Poe, Fredrick Nietzsche, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, et cetera. This leads me to wonder how many great, intelligent men have committed suicide before they had the chance to prove to the world how great they were, as I might have, though I am by no means a great man. This, in turn, leads me to wonder how many of these would-be great men could have been saved by a woman like Camille Poussin. The problem with this world, which I have alluded to in the title of this chapter, is not an overabundance of depressed, brilliant men, but an underabundance of women just beautiful, strange, and compelling enough to inspire and save these men from their greatest enemy; themselves. The world could always use more brilliant men. And as women in particular, beautiful, enthralling, mysterious women are the savers of men, more depressed men can be saved from their own hands and carried forth into a future of greatness, if only there were more

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64 such women. The problem therein is that women are taught to conform. They are taught to adhere to commonly accepted standards of beauty. They are taught by their mothers to become their mothers. They are taught by their peers to become their peers. It is only the most unabashedly individual women who can save a depressed genius from prematurely ending his life, before he has the chance to offer the world a new cure for disease, a new type of art, a new symphony. Of course, the problem with teaching all women to be individuals is three-fold. One, not all women can handle the emotional strain that comes just before giving up trying to please everybody else. Two, not all women are beautiful, and you can not teach a woman to be beautiful. And three, if all women were to become quirky unique beings, then none would be unique; this trait would become commonplace and boring. Chapter Three, Or, The Academy and My Gift to Camille Poussin To solve this problem, and to therein save the lives of potential scholars, artists, musicians, scientists, and overall heroes to this world, I propose the creation of Madame Poussin's Academy for Girls. This Academy would be for a select few girls aged fifteen to seventeen, and would serve to teach them to become the personal heroes of world heroes. Several scouts will seek the brilliant, talented, troubled, and beautiful girls in various middle schools across the country to offer them a spot in the School. These girls are what I might call Manic Pixie Dream Girls. I have thought long about this name, and decided that it is the most appropriate to describe the four necessary attributes of a

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65 woman who has the power to save a dying mastermind. We will begin at the end: Girl. This is obvious; only a woman can possess this innate ability, and only a young woman at that. Just before this is Dream. This refers to the physicality of the girl. We do not dream of ugly things; if there are ugly things in our dreams, then it is a nightmare. So for a girl to be a Dream Girl she must be beautiful, angelic, nymph-like. This brings me to Pixie. A girl's Pixie is her unique, quirky passion in life. For instance, my Camille Poussin is a People Pixie. She is fascinated by human actions and interactions. Some women may be Sunlight Pixies, the sort of women who bask in the sun's rays and seem notably more glum when it is overcast. This, then, will lead to Manic. These girls I have described seem so perfect, like mannequins or china dolls. A girl's Manic serves to make her real and compelling. It is something that is just tweaked in her brain so that she is not quite stable. This Manic quality gives the genius a purpose: she has saved him, and now he must save her. A girl's Manic may be that she is an orphan, or that she has been abused. It is a darkness in her that makes her lightness shine brighter. The Academy will give these girls an education, to be sure, but it will foremost serve to turn them into the sorts of fascinating women who can stop a suicidal man from leaping from a bridge. These women will be taught to be unafraid of judgment, of feeling foolish, and even of death itself, as she will have to in order to accept that the pre-genius man may have been so close to death. I believe that this will improve the status of the world at large. It is a shame that several of the problems we still face as a population might have already been solved by men who only needed an odd and beautiful woman to convince him that life is worth living.

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66 And so it is with my Camille Poussin. Everything I am I owe to Camille Poussin. Everything I have created, everything I hope to create, and everything that might come of my creation is the result of her kindness. This is woman's greatest ability; to inspire great men to be great. It is my sincerest hope that Camille Poussin might see this. That she might see all that has come of it and know that she is responsible. And it is my hope that this same sense of pride may be instilled in the hearts of countless young girls in the future, who will be taught to be something like my dear Camille Poussin. Ten Nicole closed the book, then flipped it over so the cover was facing her. It was much shorter than she expected, given that it was bound. It was really more of an essay than a book. She wasn't entirely sure how to process it at that moment, so she just stared at the cover a little longer. An Academical Proposition for the Betterment of Young Women. By Richard Lindhart. Those twelve words, surrounded by all the curly doo-dads that are always on old books. She suspected that it wasn't even as old as it was trying to appear. Stowing this thought, she slid the book into her messenger bag and headed back on the now-familiar path toward campus. Since it hadn't taken her nearly as long as she expected to read the book in its entirety, she figured she would be able to catch Drew while he was doing whatever work was required of him in the Health Building and maybe get the chance to talk to him about it. She found him almost immediately as she entered the building. He was pushing a large

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67 wheeled bin filled with white sheets out of an elevator. What's up? He asked as the elevator doors closed behind him. Nicole looked around before responding in a whisper, I read the book. Already? Drew asked in slight disbelief. He looked around as well, before cocking his head to alert Nicole that she should follow him and pushing his heavy-looking cart down a long hallway. The two walked silently through the hallway, which was just wide enough for the cart to fit through easily, so Nicole walked behind Drew. She was glad nobody was walking in the other direction, as there was no easy way for a human to fit between the side of the cart and the wall. Just before the end of the hallway Drew turned the cart with some difficulty into a large room filled with industrial-sized washers and dryers. Once they and the cart were inside the door, Drew shut and locked it. Nicole wasn't sure if this was necessarily safe, given the chemicals involved with so much laundry, but she rationalized this fear by figuring that since there was a door with a lock, it must have been safe to use them. So what's in it? Drew asked, his voice still a little hushed despite his precautions. It's... really weird, Nicole began, it's really short, actually, and it's in three parts. There's the part about him, Richard Lindhart, wanting to kill himself until he saw this girl, and then he's, like, obsessed with her. Then there's the part about what he thinks is wrong with the world, which is basically that genius men kill themselves before they get to save the world. And then there's the last part, which establishes the school. Nicole could tell her voice sounded far-off, and a little strained. She hadn't realized she

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68 was so emotional about it until just now. What's wrong? He asked, obviously noticing what Nicole had just noticed in herself. She was right. Who was right? Annise. We were all scouted because we're like this Camille Poussin person. Camille Poussin didn't even found this school, it was Richard Lindhart, he just named it after her. I Drew began some sort of an apology, or sympathy, or something, but Nicole cut him off. We're here just to learn how to be pretty girls who are weird enough to distract sad geniuses from their own pathetic lives. We're here because some man thinks that the only way a woman can save the world is if she keeps a man from dying, and then he saves the world. We're just... She trailed off, searching for the right word, We're just medicine. We're just a bunch of pills. They're depriving us of a real, useful education because some depressed misogynist thinks we can't do anything on our own. Well, hold on, you might be taking this too far. I mean, the book was published when? Nineteen fifty-nine? Fifty-eight. Right, that's still a long time ago. Maybe this school was founded on those principles, but it's probably changed since then. Nicole had been shaking her head the whole time he tried to console her, and now that he had stopped speaking, she just continued shaking.

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69 Nicole, he said, attempting to get her to calm down. You read it, okay? Then tell me my potential isn't being repressed because of my gender. She wrenched the book out from her bag and shoved it into Drew's hands. Right now? He asked, looking from Nicole to the book in his hands and back. Yes. Now. It's really short, it'll only take like five minutes. Drew looked around a little longer before finally responding, All right, fine. After we get these in the washing machine. Nicole helped him load the sheets into the machine then waited patiently while he read An Academical Proposition. She occasionally would look at his face, but no emotion read in it. She looked at her hands and wondered vaguely if they were really hers. She wondered, if she saw someone, say, in a subway station, standing too near the edge, looking forlornly at and beyond the oncoming train, would she pull him back with those hands, flash him a smile and say something clever? Could she be somebody's guardian angel, someone's muse? She had no desire to be such a figure; she didn't want to exist solely for the possibility of the existence of someone deemed more important than she. Time passed, and Drew quietly closed the book. So? Nicole asked. Drew took a deep breath. Yeah, this is totally implying that only men change the world and that a woman's greatest use is to make sure that happens by being passive and pretty. Exactly! Nicole shouted. She was glad that she wasn't the only one who could see that. And she was glad that Drew, as a man, disagreed with that notion. At least, she was pretty sure

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70 by his tone and wording that that was how he felt. This is weird, Drew said to the book, it seemed, as he was looking straight at it when he said it. I know, Nicole agreed. No, I mean, how were everyone's parents okay with this? Nicole hadn't really thought about how her parents felt about her school. She assumed they were thrilled, but that was when she thought she was here on scholarship for the excellent grades she had earned all her life. She wondered if her parents knew. Or even how her parents knew about this. She tried fruitlessly to produce a memory of talking about the Academy with her parents before she came here. Everything had always felt like it was just supposed to happen that way, and that everyone knew and accepted it. She remembered the day she had left. Her parents and brother stood on the stoop like a family portrait; like a holiday card. Merry Christmas from the Davises, minus Nicole, who goes to boarding school and can't be with us this holiday season. They were all smiling the same smile. The exact same smile. They seemed, all of them, to have been made from the same plaster mold, all waving in synchronicity. Their eyes all dilated and dead. Oh my god, Nicole said, slowly, softly, in the calm quiet of pre-terror, They weren't. What? They don't know. My parents don't know where I am. I don't know where they are! She looked at Drew as her voice rose, hoping he could calm her, and only receiving a confused look. Nicole, what are you talking about? He asked it slowly, as if she were speaking too

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71 rapidly for him to understand, which wasn't the case. She just wasn't making any sense to him. She took a deep breath which was meant to calm her but didn't. The day I left for school I can remember looking at my family and waving goodbye, and I always thought it was weird how they were all so happy, and how they all just stood there waving with these blank faces. That wasn't my family, Drew, what did they do to my family? Nicole was near hysterical now, and Drew looked a little frightened just by how upset she had become. He put a hand on her shoulder. Okay, Nicole, calm down. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for everything. Like what? Drew looked down at the book again, studying the cover as if the answer would just write itself out there if he just stared at it intensely enough. Like what? Nicole repeated, louder and more shrilly. Drew shushed her, telling her, People could be right outside. We need to be careful all the time until I can get this book back. You're going to put that back? She asked, incredulously as if he had said he was going to eat it, We have to burn it! Nicole, be reasonable, Drew whispered forcefully, still trying to get her to quiet down. At that moment there was a knock on the door, followed by a woman's voice calling out, Drew, are you in here? Why is this door locked? Hide! Drew whisper-shouted at Nicole. Where? She asked back in the same way. Drew just pointed at another basket full of

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72 clothes as he sprinted over to the door and began unlocking it. Panicked, Nicole did the only thing she could: she dove into the basket and buried herself under possibly used sheets. Drew looked back at her briefly to see that she was satisfactorily hidden, and opened the door. Nicole, of course, couldn't see whoever had knocked, but she sounded angry and stressed. Why was this door locked? She asked again. Oh, it wasn't. The door got caught when I was pulling the cart in and then it must have just gotten stuck, Drew lied, so convincingly even Nicole believed it a little. There was a silence, and Nicole held her breath. Without even seeing this woman, she could tell that there was probably a scowl on her face. She imagined her glaring up at him over her thin glasses dropped low on her gnarled nose, because for some reason in Nicole's imagination this was a witch librarian. Okay, well be careful, she said after some time, You shouldn't be in here with the door shut. It's not safe. I understand, Mrs. McSwain, it won't happen again. Okay, get back to work. Will do, Drew responded perkily. Nicole imagined he might have saluted, but she really had no way of knowing. Nicole could hear Drew's footsteps as he walked toward her hiding place. She wriggled herself out of the tangle of sheets and accepted Drew's hand to steady her as she stepped out of the wheeled basket. Okay, so what's our plan? Nicole asked in a whisper.

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73 What plan? Drew whispered back. I don't know, but we have to do something, right? I can't just stay here knowing why I'm here, and that my family might be missing me. Or worse, that they might be in danger themselves. Okay, look, I get that you're upset about being taught to just be some pretty face or whatever, but I don't see where you're getting this stuff about your family. I can just feel it, she said. She was going to elaborate, but she heard footsteps in the hallway and stopped talking immediately, poised to dive for the basket of sheets if necessary. It turned out not to be necessary, but Nicole was nonetheless convinced she could be seen at any moment. I can't talk about this here, Nicole said, Or even now, really. I need to think. What should I do with the book? Burn it, Nicole said, pointing her index finger at him and walking backwards away from him toward the door. I'm not burning it, He replied, pointing back at her as she left the room, but not before poking her head out and looking both ways. It was clear, and Nicole walked out, trying to look as casual as possible. She didn't see the picturesque campus as she walked aimlessly around it; she saw only the few memories she could seem to produce of her family. She was seven years old, and it was Christmas morning. Her little brother Nicky was four, and he refused to go into their parents' room and wake them up, so she took all of his

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74 presents and locked them in her room, telling him that Santa had called and told her to keep them there until he could come get them himself, because he forgot that Nicky was actually on the naughty list. Nicky was crying, and Nicole was happy when he cried loud enough to wake up her parents. Then she had the worst Christmas ever when her parents made her wait until Nicky had opened all of his presents before she could open one of hers. They were real in that memory; they had to be. They were so distinct and life like, especially Nicky. She could see clearly the Christmas morning excitement, the fear of getting in trouble, the horror of having his presents taken away. She was ten years old, and she was helping her dad watch the golf ball he had just hit. She was confirming that she had seen where it had landed, and she was walking with him back to the golf cart. He was asking her if she wanted to drive; she was asking if he was serious; he was nodding and smiling. She was thirteen, and she was in the bathroom with her mother, sitting on the covered toilet while she explained what happens to women when they grow up, and how proud she was of her daughter. These memories were nothing like the one of the day she left. That memory always started in the same spot: she was standing in the driveway by all her luggage, waving at her family on the stoop. She couldn't remember how she had gotten there. Had her family helped her carry her luggage to that point? Did her father hug her and give her a kiss on the top of her head? Did her brother secretly pull her ponytail when her mom made him hug her? She couldn't remember any of it. It was as if this memory was just a moving image in her head, instead of a

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75 video. It was just a moment, devoid of context, devoid of meaning. A family waves stoically as one of their own is taken away. What would her family the ones from Christmas morning and the golf course and a lesson on womanhood think of what this school was really about. Her brother would probably think it was awesome that there were so many hot girls in one place. But her parents. Her parents who had always told her to do her best, to achieve to her fullest potential, to change the world if she can. She knew they wouldn't agree that she couldn't do this on her own; they believed in her. At least that was always how she felt. Nicole walked back to her room, filled with an existential sadness she couldn't quite place. She wasn't sure if it came from her strange memory, or Drew's disbelief, or even homesickness. Or maybe it was all of those. Either way, her chest felt tight and heavy, and her limbs seemed to be creeping inward, seeking the comfort of the fetal position of their own volition. It was long after she had given in to the desires of her arms and legs, and fallen asleep that way, that she heard the familiar sound of the screen of her window being displaced and the window sliding open. She assumed it was Melanie, and tried to fall asleep again, but was startled awake when Drew spoke: We have to get out of here. Eleven What? Nicole asked, still groggy from her sadness nap. You said we have to do something, and now I know what that is. We have to leave. Both

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76 of us, Drew said, now all the way in the window. Nicole sat up slowly, but her head still throbbed once from the sudden rush of blood leaving it. What? She asked again, for repetition, then again for clarification. I'll explain while we leave, just pack something. Why can't you explain right now? The room's empty, Nicole said, gesturing to the emptiness of the room. Drew just looked at her gravely and shook his head an infinitesimal amount. Every ounce of fatigue remaining in Nicole's body drained instantly. In silence she went about the room, shoving things into a backpack. She could hardly hold onto the clothes she was packing, as her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She zipped a jacket on up to her throat and slung her backpack onto one shoulder. Is that everything? Drew asked. Nicole didn't respond; she seemed to be hearing everything under water. She looked about the room, and her eyes landed on the photo on the wall. It was of her mother holding her new-born brother, with Nicole sitting on the hospital bed beside her and her father standing behind them. Nicole walked over to it and slowly released the tape from the wall, then slid the picture into a pocket of her backpack before turning to Drew and nodding. Drew waited for her to shut her door, then led her down the hallway toward the exit. Nicole wanted desperately to ask for some sort of explanation, but feared whatever the reasoning had been behind Drew's head shake. What had made her room not empty, aside from the two of

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77 them? She was going to ask once they were outside of the building, but once the door clicked shut behind them a loud, blaring alarm went off. It was coming from megaphones on the corners of every building; megaphones which Nicole had never personally noticed before just then. It sounded as if it could have been a tornado alarm, or something of the sort, but then a voice began, accompanying the alarm, just barely audible over the wailing. A Code Red Lock down is in effect. Please take shelter in the nearest building immediately. All residents must be inside. All doors will lock in exactly five minutes. Please make your way to a building immediately. What is that? Drew asked over the noise of the alarm and announcement that had begun to repeat itself. I don't know, I've never heard it before. Should we go back inside? No! Drew shouted, raising his voice even louder than what was necessary to be heard over the cacophony. We have to leave. Why? What's going on? Nicole begged, terrified by all the unknowns. Drew said nothing in reply, but grabbed her wrist and began running toward the forest. Nicole ran to keep up, but always felt the firm tug on her wrist, urging her to run faster. They were at the edge of the tree line, and Drew was pulling back a branch, when something stopped her. It wasn't a gnarled root, or a paralyzing fear, it was her backpack. She turned to see what it was caught on, and felt the pull in both directions, Drew on her wrist and her backpack jerking her shoulders. She wasn't caught on something, she was caught by

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78 someone. It was a man, dressed in all black with a shaved head behind a pair of dark, skinny, wraparound sunglasses. She felt a sharp tug on her wrist again, sending a jolt up her arms and into her now strained shoulder. But she couldn't follow Drew now. Not because this imposing man still had a grip on her backpack which he did it was now because she was actually paralyzed by fear. Drew turned to see why Nicole had stopped and cursed under his breath, now held by the same stillness as Nicole. A Code Red Lock Down is in effect, the man said in synchronicity with the announcement, I'm going to need you kids to come with me. Nicole looked to Drew, who would have been looking the man dead in the eye if not for his sunglasses. Nicole had never seen Drew look so angry. I know you're thinking about it, kid, but you aren't running away, The man said. Drew's nostrils flared briefly. It was then that Nicole noticed there was another man less than twenty feet from them, dressed the same as this one, stepping out from behind a tree, and holding what appeared to be a gun. The bald man continued, I'd suggest you two come with me. Quietly. Nicole looked to Drew. For reassurance, for permission, almost, still for the explanation she had never received. He had yet to look back at her. They followed the man as he led them back onto the campus, the other man following them at a short distance. He led them, in complete silence, other than the continuing alarm and announcement, to the office of the headmaster. The place above which Drew had apparently found the book, just

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79 sitting in an attic. The man knocked and after a moment the door was unlocked and opened by a woman in her forties. It was Madame Lynette Stein, the headmistress herself. She wore a charcoal gray pencil skirt and a matching fitted suit jacket, though it was the weekend, so she wasn't necessarily on duty. That was just how she dressed. She smiled with just her mouth as she opened the door all the way to welcome the guests into her office and home. They were admitted to a room that looked every bit like what a headmaster's office should look like, except for the hallway at the back that obviously led to a bright yellow kitchen. Madame Stein walked quickly around her desk and motioned for Nicole and Drew to take the two seats facing her before taking her own. Nicole didn't bother looking over at Drew; she knew it would be no help. So she just followed orders and sat. Drew sat too, taking up as much room as was possible for such a thin guy. Now, Madame Stein began in a calm, pretty voice, Which one of you would like to explain what you were doing outside during a Code Red Lock Down? Nicole stayed silent and looked at the name plate staring back at her from the desk. As much as she would have liked to have answered the question, given that she was probably the more favorable of the two to Madame Stein, she honestly could not. Drew had never explained what they were doing, and she had wanted to go back inside. She only knew that whatever it was, it must have been important, and Drew must have been infuriated to have been busted so quickly.

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80 I was leaving. I was going to head back home, and she was just telling me goodbye, Drew answered, his voice low but seemingly volatile, like a guard dog laying on the ground and growling, not yet threatened enough to bark. Then why did she need a backpack for herself? She asked, turning her head toward Nicole. She was I think, Mr. Valentine, Madame Stein cut him off sharply, That Miss Davis can answer for herself. She smiled at Nicole then, as if she was doing her a favor by letting her speak. Nicole swallowed with some difficulty. I was going to stay with a friend this weekend. Have a little sleep over, Nicole lied. She was thinking of giving a name to be more believable, but she decided that it would be better to keep as few people involved as possible. Madame Stein nodded, and Nicole was unable to tell if she was believing any of this. She gave some small signal to the man with the shaved head, who was still wearing his sunglasses even though he was now inside. The man proceeded to take the few steps necessary to position himself behind Nicole and Drew, where he reached for their bags. Drew resisted, having a miniature tug of war before finally deciding that it wasn't worth it. The room fell silent aside from the quiet shifting of clothing and the occasional rip of a zipper as the man searched their bags. The girl's got enough clothes to last her at least a week, The man said, setting her backpack aside rather roughly. The room waited again while he searched Drew's backpack, And

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81 the boy, well... He tossed An Academical Proposition on the table, allowing its thud to complete his sentence. Look, I wasn't trying to steal it, I was going to put it back. I forgot it was in my bag, and That's quite enough, Mr. Valentine, Madame Stein cut Drew off once more, I don't care why you had it, so long as you do two things, okay? One, you give it back, without any hesitation, and two, you leave the premises, immediately, alone, and never come back. Drew stared back at her and stayed silent. Do you understand me, Mr. Valentine? May I have a word with Nicole before I leave? Privately? I don't think that will be necessary. Please? Whatever it is you need to tell her you can say in front of all of us, Madame Stein said with a smile, as if she wanted to be in on some school yard secret. It's personal, Drew argued. I'm sorry, Mr. Valentine, but as the two of you have already broken no less than four official school rules, I can't allow you to be out of my sight until you have complied with my orders, and that is for you, Mr. Valentine, to leave this campus immediately, and for you, Miss Davis, to return to your room with the escort of Mr. Bertrand, she gestured toward the bald man, So if you have something to say to Miss Davis, I suggest you say it now, or else write it in a letter once you are off the three hundred acres of Academy property.

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82 Drew shifted uneasily in his seat. To anyone else, it would have seemed Drew was uncomfortable with being forcefully expelled from his temporary home, but Nicole could tell she wasn't sure how, exactly, or what that he was very carefully planning his next move. He turned to Nicole. Well, Nicole, Drew said to his hands, Since this is goodbye and everything, I guess I should just tell you. Nicole just looked at him as he glanced over at Madame Stein, then back to his hands. If this was his plan, she still had no idea what it was. As you know, I was living in the woods, He continued, But what you don't know is that I was just trying to find an obscure place to die, so my family wouldn't have to see me, you know, after. Nicole looked at Drew's face but he wouldn't make eye contact with her. She couldn't tell whether or not he was lying. She looked over at Madame Stein, then remembered that if this was his plan, she was a part of it, and had to play that part in order for this to work. She looked back at Drew, trying her best to look surprised and upset. But, then I accidentally found this place, and I accidentally found you, He said, finally looking her in the eye, however briefly. Nicole still couldn't read him, which probably only helped her cause because if she had known his plan she probably wouldn't have been able to act as confused as she was. Drew continued, And I guess I, uh, accidentally fell in love with you. There was a silence. Nicole looked at Drew, who had shifted his gaze back down to his hands. She looked at Mr. Bertrand and the other black-dressed man, both of whom were

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83 pointedly averting their gazes, obviously uncomfortable with the throws of young love. Okay, Madame Stein said slowly and delicately, Well, if that's all, then Mr. Bertrand, I think you should escort Miss Davis back to her room, and Mr. Hicks, if you would escort Mr. Valentine to the edge of campus. Wait, Nicole said, standing up suddenly from her chair. She straightened her shirt as she situated herself in front of Drew, then bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her cheek to his, positioning her ear by his mouth, hidden behind a lock of hair. Do not sleep, he breathed into her ear, hardly loud enough even for her to hear it. He said it slowly, each word its own small, over-enunciated sentence. Nicole wanted to ask so many questions but knew she couldn't risk it. And besides, his three word order had been clear enough as a direction. Though she didn't know why she had to do it, she knew exactly what she had to do. And she knew from Drew's tone that it was important. Nicole drew back from the hug and smiled at Drew. If they could tell he told her anything she had to make it look like it had been something even more touching than his bogus confession. Drew smiled back, playing along, and stood up. He shouldered his bag heavily. Goodbye, Drew, Nicole said, lifting her own bag. Goodbye, Nicole, Drew whispered with a slight break in his voice. It was an excellent touch. He took her hand and continued, And thank you. He kissed her hand gently, then stepped away, allowing their arms to extend until they dropped, finger by finger. Drew cast Nicole one last love-stricken glance over his shoulder, then followed an eye-rolling, head-shaking Mr. Hicks out of the headmistress's office.

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84 Nicole moved to walk with Mr. Bertrand out the same door, but he didn't move. Just one moment, Madame Stein said. Her honey-sweet voice had a touch of sour that sent a chill down Nicole's spine. She turned around slowly to face her again. Do... you need something? Nicole asked. I need you to never see that boy again, do I make myself clear? I don't see how I would since you just sent him off the campus and I'm not allowed to leave, Nicole said with a smile meant to mimic the one on her headmistress's face. Madame Stein rose from her chair, placing her fingertips delicately on the desk in front of her. Her smile faded, and Nicole could feel her own morphing into a thin, straight line. I'm not sure I appreciate your tone, Miss Davis. Don't say I'm not sure I appreciate your school, Nicole thought over and over, as if it were a mantra meant to keep her quiet until Madame Stein spoke again. The result was a stand off. A staring contest. Madame Stein finally broke their eye contact, a smile spreading over only her red-painted lips as she shifted her gaze to Mr. Bertrand. I think the others must have gotten far enough away by now, don't you think, Mr. Bertrand? Mr. Bertrand grunted his agreement and adjusted his belt as he straightened himself from his former position of leaning against the wall. I look forward to our next meeting, Madame Stein said in her sweet-yet-professional headmistresses voice, which then changed as she continued, Unless of course it's under similar circumstances, in which case I will be very angry with you, Miss Davis.

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85 Nicole recognized the subtle threatening tone, but forced a smile regardless and spun around to leave the office. Mr. Bertrand nodded and opened the door for her in such a way that she had to stoop under his outstretched arm to leave. Nicole and Mr. Bertrand walked in silence back to her dorm building and even to her room before he finally spoke. Now, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to lock your door from the outside. Are you serious? Nicole asked. Yes, I am. That's the consequence for violating a Code Red Lock Down. But, Nicole argued. It wasn't that she was necessarily planning on leaving, but she didn't like the idea of being held prisoner in her own room while there was something going on that was serious enough to necessitate such actions, What about Melanie, how will she get in? Your roommate has been alerted of the circumstances, and has been offered alternative housing for the night, Mr. Bertrand answered mechanically. It was as if he was reciting from the official rule book. Can you at least tell me where she is? That's her business, and I can't share that because of a confidentiality contract. I would suggest you just get cozy for the night, and you can talk to your roommate in the morning. Nicole decided not to argue. She took one step into her room, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked Mr. Bertrand in the eyes as he shut the door between them. She remained standing there for several minutes, listening to Mr. Bertrand attaching an extra lock to the outside of her door.

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86 Twelve She walked over to the window after a moment, and was only slightly surprised to find that the screen had been bolted in place. So she sat on her bed and fished Jane Eyre out from the bottom of her backpack. It had been the first thing she packed, so she had to root through carelessly packed clothing. She kept the clothes in her bag, unsure of whether she would need it still. Then she sat with her back against the cool, blank wall and set out to not sleep as Drew had so cryptically advised her. Nicole had finished several chapters when she felt the stinging sensation behind her eyelids. She realized that she had not actually read the last few pages, but had just glazed over them while thinking about other things. It had happened several times beforehand, and she had always wondered the same thing: where was Drew? What was he planning? Was he even coming back? Why wasn't she allowed to sleep? She closed the book and forced herself to stand. However, she needed to do something less cozy and relaxing if she was going to stay awake. She decided to actually pack her bag. She folded her clothes to allow for more space for a few toiletries she would have sorely missed had she actually left as planned that afternoon. She glanced over at the clock. It was nearly midnight, and she hadn't heard so much as footsteps on the quad, much less anything actually useful. She was beginning to worry that Drew didn't actually have a plan. Or worse, that he had tried to go through with whatever plan he had, and something terrible had happened. Or even worse than that, the man who had escorted him to the edge of campus had been carrying a gun...

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87 She shook her head violently, physically removing the idea from her mind. She couldn't think that way, it wouldn't help anyone. But then again, at least if she thought that way she would be too horrified to fall asleep, probably ever again. Nicole had not yet calmed herself from the not un-seeable vision of Drew being shot in the woods one hundred yards away when she heard a knock at her window. She knew a gunshot would have sounded different, but she still jumped. She walked over to the window and tried to open it, but as she somewhat expected, it wouldn't budge. It was then that she realized the knock had been on the window, not on the screen that covered it. She hadn't even noticed the sound of a Swiss army knife slicing away the mesh from the frame. Nicole shrugged to Drew after a few more fruitless efforts at opening the window. Drew motioned for her to step back from the window, then proceeded to crack it with his knife. He swung a few times until the cracks finally gave way and the glass shattered. Nicole watched, partly impressed and partly horrified. Drew carefully pulled loose pieces of window away until there was a hole big enough to fit a body through, which he tested by climbing through himself, at least to his waist. Ready? He asked, entirely too cheerfully for the situation. Nicole hesitated a moment in shock, then nodded and grabbed her backpack. She was just passing her bag through the ragged hole when she remembered. Wait. We don't have time to wait, Drew urged as he watched her run the few steps over to her

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88 bed to pick up Jane Eyre. Nicole waved it at him to show him that was all she needed, then went back to the window. She wasn't sure the best way to go about getting through a small, sharp opening, but Drew was looking more and more impatient as she thought about it, so she just went for it, arms first. A door closed on some unidentifiable building, and Nicole didn't think it was too paranoid to think it might be a problem. Drew seemed to think so, too, as he yanked her the rest of the way through the window, then continued pulling her once she was on her feet. As they ran, Nicole felt a jolt of pain each time her right leg struck the ground, but she couldn't stop to check why, nor could she slow down to nurse it. Drew pulled her suddenly to the right as they reached the end of a wall. Her leg throbbed as she pivoted on it, and she choked down a cry of pain. He pressed his back against the brick wall and looked around the corner. Nicole began to look over his shoulder, but Drew kept her back with his arm, rather firmly, pushing her against the wall behind him. He then held up his index finger, urging her to be quiet and still. Nicole took the opportunity to look down at her injured leg. She didn't even have to roll up her jeans to see it she had been cut straight through the denim to her skin, and the fabric around the gash was soaked through with blood. She pulled the hole in her jeans slightly more open to better see the actual cut, the fabric sticking sickeningly to the half-dried blood. The cut was fairly deep, and about a sixteenth of an inch wide. We're clear, let's go, Drew said, grabbing for her wrist again.

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89 Wait, Nicole said, snatching her wrist from him. He looked back in exasperation and followed her pointing hand to her blood-soaked calf. Oh, He said, his monosyllabic utterance conveying a multitude of emotions: disappointment, surprise, horror, apology, and more that Nicole couldn't immediately identify, as she was rather preoccupied with her still-bleeding leg. Drew swung his bag around in front of him in one swift movement and pulled out a shirt. He made a motion for her to give him her leg, and he wrapped the shirt tightly around her wound. Are you okay? Can you walk? Drew asked, all previous annoyance gone from his voice. Yeah, I think so, Nicole responded, testing her weight on her leg. Can you run? He asked hopefully. Testing her leg a few more times, she set her face and nodded. She had been able to run before when it hadn't been treated, why shouldn't she be able to now? Even if it had been the adrenaline or something keeping the pain away before, she was sure that same phenomenon would start again once she found out why they were running. But for now she just followed him and kept quiet. The tee shirt tourniquet helped her leg somewhat, but she could still feel it. To her relief they stopped behind several buildings, each time placing their backs against the bricks and checking behind them. It was always clear. In fact, eerily so. Though Nicole still didn't know what was going on, she knew it was serious enough to have set off an alarm, to enact a lock down Nicole hadn't even known existed, and to have brought in men with guns to hide around campus. And that made it strange that there should be absolutely no one in their way now. If they had expected it the first time, why weren't they

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90 expecting it again? Did they really think Nicole, a student who had always been less than ideal, and Drew, someone who didn't even belong here, would really follow some guideline? Okay, we're almost there, but it's going to be about twice as long as the other legs, do you think you can make it? Drew asked, already preparing himself for the next run. Still out of breath from their last sprint, Nicole took the opportunity to bring up her realization and rest a little longer. Don't you think it's weird that none of those guys are around? And that the alarms and everything stopped? She asked, trying to hide her breathlessness, but taking a deep inhale when she had finished her question. Maybe, Drew said slowly. It was obvious he hadn't considered this. I just thought we were being really sneaky. Do you think they're expecting this? If they are they have a weird way of showing it, Drew said, checking around the corner once again, I think we should just keep going. Even if they expect something they can't know when, and I think there's a good chance we have a head start. They probably didn't expect we'd try this again so quickly. What exactly are we trying? Come on, Drew said, pulling her once more into a run. Nicole had no choice but to follow. And besides, it sounded like he said this would be their last run, so maybe once they were done with that she could finally ask him to explain some things. Drew was right; this run was much longer. Nicole could feel blood pumping out of her

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91 leg and into the soaked shirt with each step. She was lightheaded either from blood loss or just from thinking about it, her side was cramped, her shoulder ached from being tugged and slammed into walls so often, and her wrist felt raw under Drew's hand. She would have asked to stop, or to at least slow down, but she felt sure if she opened her mouth for anything other than gulping down enormous amounts of air, she would throw up. So she steeled herself, tried not to think about any painful part of her body, and focused on the quickly nearing forest line. At last they slowed to a jog so that Drew could find a good spot to enter. Aside from just trees there were several bushes and viney plants around the edge of the forest, many with thorns or poison ivy, so finding a good entrance was difficult, especially in the dark. But he did find one after only a few minutes, almost enough time for Nicole to catch her breath. After the first few feet the underbrush stopped, so it was just trees they had to deal with. Luckily for Nicole, they were closely spaced enough that running was not an option, even for someone as agile and used to the forest as Drew, so they walked. Can you please tell me what's going on now? Nicole asked as she struggled to find footing as easily as Drew had. He gingerly held back a thorny branch for her then let it snap behind her. He stopped suddenly, becoming completely still and silent. He held out his hand to alert her to do the same. He appeared to be listening intently, but Nicole heard nothing. Okay, Drew said, apparently having not heard anything either, But we have to keep walking. And so he began. Thankfully talking made him walk more slowly, so Nicole was actually

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92 able to recover, if only a little. She could still feel the pain in her leg as she walked, but now she was moving slowly enough that she could keep her weight off of it for the most part. He began with right after she had left him in the laundry room. Right after she left he had gone to find his supervisor, the woman who had knocked on the door. She had seemed like she wanted something from him, and now he had an hour or so free while waiting for the laundry. So he had wandered around the Health Building, searching for her. He asked the few desk aides if they had seen her, and they all told him the same thing: she had gone upstairs. So he, too, had gone upstairs. From the gym floor to the Mental Wellness floor, and even on what Drew had thought to be the top floor, they still told him she had gone upstairs. Where are the stairs? He had asked the desk aide on the third floor. A look had come over her face. One of guilt and fear, as if she had said too much. Drew had told her a half lie, saying that he had to tend to the laundry. Laundry was his current duty, but it didn't actually require his attention at the time. She had watched him carefully as he walked back toward the stairs he knew would only take him down, then, as he turned the corner, he thought he saw her snatch up the phone on the desk. He had felt something was off as the door behind him closed him into the stairwell. He could tell there was a fourth floor, and if there was a way to get there it was bound to be close. So he had scoured the walls, searching for loose bricks or hidden buttons or anything that might reveal an upward staircase, but to no avail. Drew resigned to going down the stairs, thinking he may be able to tinker with the elevator, when his sleeve caught on a loose screw in the banister. Ordinarily he would have

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93 thought nothing of it, but since he was already in the mindset of espionage, he grew suspicious. He had turned the screw until it would have required a tool to move it any further, and still nothing happened. Drew had glanced around him, then fished his Swiss army knife from his pocket, pulled out the screwdriver, and twisted the screw just a fraction of an inch further. But it was enough. As soon as the head of the screw made contact with the metal behind it there was a slight spark, and then the wall Drew had inspected so thoroughly had begun to open up. It was a small opening, only about two feet wide, and revealed a narrow spiral staircase. Drew had looked through the the small window on the door from the stairwell to the third floor. It was clear, so he stole into the slim opening and climbed the stairs. He had reached a small landing before a door no bigger than the opening had been in the wall one floor below. There was no window on the door. The wood didn't even appear to be finished; it could have just been a cut slab of scrap wood. He had put his ear to the door. It was muffled, but he could hear voices, and something whirring and clicking occasionally. He had known it was risky and stupid. He had known he would probably be seen. But after reading that book, and remembering what Nicole had said about her parents and her memories, and knowing that he might not get this chance again if someone were to find out that some unauthorized person had found their way in, he had slowly turned the small brass handle and opened the door enough to see in. The inch-wide crack was enough for Drew to see a good bit of the tiny room. Inside was a projector, which was producing the whirring sound he had heard. He couldn't see the wall it

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94 was projecting onto, so he didn't know what was being shown. He could tell, however, that it must have been awful, because in the center of the room, in front of the projector, a girl was tied to a chair, her mouth gagged, her eyelids forced open, and her head held in place by a sort of metal halo. A much older woman sat beside her, putting eye drops into her eyes, which seemed unnecessary, as the girl had been crying. He had kept the door open only long enough to hear a third woman, whom he couldn't see but who he knew was his supervisor, say, Your roommate is Daniella. Your roommate has always been Daniella. Then there was a click, which presumably meant she was changing the image on the screen. She continued, This is the day you moved in with Daniella. You were friends from the moment you met. Drew had taken one last look at the girl. She was shaking slightly, both with sobs and shallow breath through her nose. It was then that he recognized her; it had been Melanie. Thirteen What? Nicole asked, stopping on her good leg. Drew stopped too, and turned around to actually face her. He had told the entire story without looking at her, as he had been focused on the stray branches and uneven ground. But now that Nicole could see his face, even through the darkness she could tell he looked shaken. It was Melanie. They were altering her memories, and cutting you out, Drew seemed to wait for Nicole to say something, but she physically couldn't, so he continued, I think that may be what happened to you with your memory of your family. He paused again, and Nicole wanted to say something. She opened her mouth to try, but

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95 she felt as if her words were tied down with the same chains that bound her chest and lungs. I'm really sorry, Nicole, Drew said after a drawn-out silence. What are you sorry for? Nicole asked. Since it was slightly off the topic of her horrendously altered memories and the fact that she was being erased, she felt she could speak, though her voice came as only a strained whisper. I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I couldn't have saved you sooner. Nicole was shaking her head. You don't have to feel sorry for any of that. None of this is your fault. I'm sorry about your leg, He said, kneeling down to get a better look at it, And you can't tell me that's not my fault. I guess... Nicole began, but Drew cut her off. Oh, man, this looks really bad. He looked around for a moment, then told her to sit down. She complied, extending her bad leg in front of her carefully. He knelt beside her just as carefully and began to unwrap the shirt from her wound. She winced slightly as he peeled the fabric off of her skin. Drew pulled out a small key chain flashlight from his backpack and shined it on Nicole's calf. He inhaled through his teeth and shook his head. What? Nicole asked fearfully. It's deeper than I thought, and it's still not closing on its own, He told her, then as he

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96 continued he seemed to be speaking to himself, I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, that was so stupid. It's It's not okay, Nicole. I messed up. You did what you had to do to protect me, Nicole argued, though Drew looked unconvinced, Trust me, I'm sure a little cut is a lot better than whatever they were going to do with me back there. Drew considered this, then in silence rooted through his pack for another shirt to wrap around Nicole's leg. Well, I think we're okay here for the moment, but we can't stay here all night. I'm almost positive they'll come looking for us, and we have to keep our lead. Nicole nodded then leaned her head back on the tree against which she was sitting. Drew finished wrapping her leg, then joined her against the tree, where they sat quietly. Nicole could still feel the relief in her body for being seated, as if she had just sat down, though she had been sitting for several minutes. Suddenly Drew sat straight up. Did you hear that? He asked in a whisper. Hear what? She asked, but Drew shushed her and listened. Then Nicole did hear something; a snapping twig, a rustling leaf, a hushed breath. Drew leaped to his feet, somehow swinging his backpack onto his back simultaneously. He turned and offered Nicole his hand to help her up. She winced as her right leg took some of her weight, and Drew assessed her face, silently asking if she was in too much pain to continue.

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97 Nicole wanted not to be; she wanted her face to lie for her, to make her seem confident and prepared. But it apparently did no such thing, as Drew pulled her arm over his head with one arm and wrapped his other around her waist, hoisting her up onto his shoulder. He was just beginning to take off when a voice called out to them. Wait, don't go! It was a female's voice, probably that of a student. Drew turned around before Nicole could look up to see who it was. Annise? Drew asked, surprised and confused. Annise? Nicole asked as well, though her tone was much more hostile. Yeah, it's me, She said, closing the gap between them in two broad steps. What are you doing out here? Drew asked, setting Nicole down lightly on her left leg. Well, I heard you two were leaving Where did you hear that? Nicole cut in. They hadn't told anyone about this, how could she have possibly known? Nicole hadn't even really known they were escaping. Well, there was that alarm, and I looked outside and saw you two with some men I've never seen before. And I got scared, so then when I saw you again You saw us both times? Nicole asked incredulously. Well, yeah, Annise answered, seeming slightly off at first, but then collecting herself, But I was waiting for you the second time. I live on the second floor, on the same side of the building as you, Nicole. I think I'm the only one who saw you though. And you were following us the whole time? Drew asked. Nicole could hear just a touch of annoyance in his voice, and Nicole could only guess it was because someone may have seen

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98 her. Or that someone would at least notice she was gone, because presumably whoever her roommate was wasn't having her memory wiped. No, I waited a bit. But I saw what direction you were going. Nobody saw me, I swear. Well we would have sworn nobody saw us, either, Drew argued. Annise seemed to ignore this comment. I'm just so glad I found you two, I was afraid I'd missed you. I'm so scared, I think there's something terrible happening at this school. You think? Nicole thought sarcastically. She held her tongue though, because Drew seemed to be okay with having her. At first Nicole thought it was because Drew could actually stand to be in her company, but as he began to explain to her that they needed to get moving quickly, Nicole could tell she was only allowed to stay because sending her away would almost assuredly result in her outing them to Madame Stein. So they continued onward, Drew with his arm around Nicole to support her and Annise behind them. Drew explained what had happened to Nicole's leg as they walked, and Annise listened, adding dramatic commentary Nicole felt sure she wouldn't have said if she herself were telling the story. Then the conversation turned to the earlier alarm. I thought there was some sort of dangerous intruder or something. That's why I was so scared when I saw you two with those men I thought you were in danger, Annise explained. She had a way of saying everything as if it were a part of a melodrama that Nicole despised. She didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth, and it frustrated her to no end that Drew didn't seem to be anywhere near as annoyed by her.

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99 Nicole eventually dropped out of the conversation, tuning out Annise's half entirely. She resigned to focusing on her leg: testing more and more weight on it, checking frequently to see whether the blood on the shirt was spreading. She was fairly certain the bleeding was at least slowing, if not entirely stopped. But when she remembered how long she had been bleeding, she began to feel its effects. Hey, Nicole, are you okay? You're leaning on me a lot, Drew said, interrupting Annise, which Nicole enjoyed. Yeah, I'm just a little light-headed, I'm fine. Drew stopped and turned her to face him, placing his hands on both her shoulders. He studied her face briefly before telling her, Okay, you're really pale. Blood loss? Annise offered. No, really? Nicole thought mockingly, but again she kept it to herself. I think so, Drew responded to Annise, much more patiently than Nicole could have been, This is far enough, you should really sit down. Nicole nodded and looked around. Is this okay though? You're the expert. Drew looked around as well. Can you make it another twenty feet? She needs to sit down now, Annise commanded. Nicole rolled her eyes and contradicted, Yeah, I think I can make it. As long as you help. She squeezed his side as she wrapped her arm more tightly around his waist. She could feel Annise's hating eyes on the back of her head, and she loved it. Drew helped her to sit against another tree a few moments later, then began to retrieve

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100 several things from his backpack. The first was a water bottle, one of those round canteens that boy scouts always seem to have. He commanded her to drink, then pulled out a protein bar, which he also shoved into her hands mid-drink. I know these are gross, but you need it, He told her, already returning to his bag. He removed the straps that kept his sleeping bag attached to his backpack, then set it on the ground and started brushing away branches and pine cones to form a clear rectangular space for it. I only have the one sleeping bag, so I think it would be best to sleep in shifts, Drew explained as he rolled out said sleeping bag into the space he had just cleared. Nicole should take the first one, Annise offered with a hint of a patronizing tone. It was as if she were offering not because Nicole needed it, but because she couldn't handle not sleeping first. As if she and Drew were so much stronger. You just go off to bed while the grown-ups sit up and talk. Nicole wanted to decline for that reason. She also wanted to decline because she was sure Annise would just tell Drew more lies about her to try to turn him against her. But she actually was really tired. She had been falling asleep even before Drew came to get her, and while the adrenaline had woken her up, all the running and bleeding and worrying were now crashing down on her, making it nearly impossible to stay awake any longer now that sleep was an option. So she zipped herself into the sleeping bag, surprised at how warm she found it to be. Good night, Nicole, Drew said, settling down against a tree next to Annise, who was putting on Drew's extra coat, We'll wake you in about three hours or so, I hope you feel better by then.

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101 Thanks, me too, Nicole responded with a yawn, Good night, Drew. Neither Nicole nor Annise said any form of a good night, and each seemed to be just fine with that. They were all silent then, but after a while Drew and Annise began to talk quietly. Nicole listened for a while, unsure whether they knew she was awake, but they weren't saying anything interesting, so Nicole began to doze off, allowing their soft chatter to lull her to sleep, knowing that though she was injured and sleeping in the woods, at least she wasn't alone. Nicole woke to Drew saying her name and lightly shaking her shoulder. It felt like it had been minutes since she was last awake, but it must have been long enough to warrant changing shifts. Nicole, Drew said, still as gently as he had been, How are you feeling? Do you think you can get up? It's okay if you need to sleep longer. Nicole opened her eyes. She wasn't surprised to see Drew, because she knew he was at least within arm's reach of her, but she was surprised to see Annise, huddled up and shivering against Drew's side. Nicole inhaled sharply, which turned into a yawn as she tried to rouse herself. She was coming out of the deepest level of sleep, so just waking up enough to speak was a slow process. She lifted her head, then found her arms and was able to push herself up into a seated position, which made her head throb menacingly. She put a hand on it and shut her eyes tightly, trying to push out the pain. Really, Nicole, it's okay if I'm fine, Nicole interrupted. She'd had enough of being the poor baby who had to be

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102 cared for. She pulled herself the rest of the way out of the sleeping bag. Annise is going to sleep next, Drew said. Annise was already shedding Drew's coat. She tossed it to Nicole, then dove into the warmth of the sleeping bag. Wow, it got cold, Nicole noted as she wrapped the coat around herself. Yeah, Drew agreed, repositioning himself back into his spot, But that's what all this hi-tech thermal equipment is for. Is your coat as warm as that sleeping bag? Nicole asked, referring to the one on Drew, not the one she was wearing. Yup, same material. So you're not cold? Nah, but I don't really get cold. Are you cold? A little. I'm fine though, Nicole lied. She had actually been quite chilly since the moment the sleeping bag was opened and the night air was able to wriggle in and find her bits of exposed skin. We could trade coats, Drew offered. Nicole bit her lip for a moment, then gave in, nodding and unzipping her coat. She was even colder for the duration of the trade, but it was all worth it when she got into the thermo-regulated coat. It was even warmer than the sleeping bag had been, presumably from Drew's body heat. Why didn't you trade with Annise? She looked pretty cold. Oh, because I don't really like Annise, Drew admitted in a whisper. His quietness was

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103 just a precaution, really, as Annise had already begun to snore softly. Nicole covered her mouth, trying not to explode into laughter. Drew shushed her, though he was laughing, too. You have no idea how happy that makes me, Nicole said through her laughter. Yeah, well I know you hate her. Am I that obvious? She asked. So obvious, He replied, drawing out the so. Darn. Here I thought I was so secretive and mysterious. You're pretty mysterious. I'm really not, though. But it's fine. I know I'm supposed to be or whatever, but I'd really rather not be mysterious. Mysterious people are just a strain on anyone they come in contact with. I don't want to be a burden. Well, sure, if it's like a 'did she kill someone?' mysterious, then that's a little taxing, but if it's more like a 'how did a girl this cool end up at such a high-strung institution' mysterious, then that's just kind of interesting. You get to learn about her. You think I'm cool? Nicole asked doubtfully. Who said I was talking about you? Drew countered. Nicole immediately resigned into herself, embarrassed that she had jumped to such a conclusion. Drew laughed and smiled brightly at her, then tossed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. Nicole fought it at first, or at least refused to hug him back, because she still felt a bit insulted, but eventually she gave in.

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104 The hug ended, but Drew kept his arm around Nicole's shoulders. Nicole's insides fluttered a little as she realized she was enjoying it. She leaned into him a little more, wondering vaguely if this had anything to do with how she felt about Annise. So do you do this with all the girls? Nicole asked, looking up at him. She was trying to seem cute and flirty and not at all jealous or prying, and she couldn't tell from Drew's expression how she came off. Nope. Just the ones I'm super in love with, He joked. Nicole wanted to press on, but felt the moment for that question had passed, and anything further would become very awkward. She didn't want to seem like she really wanted to know all that much, anyway. So, Nicole said after a moment, What did you and Annise talk about? Nothing, He answered simply, his shrug moving her head slightly. Nothing? She asked. Nothing. School and stuff. Mostly nothing. Oh, Nicole said, feeling the exact same way again, so she let it drop. So Nicole began, at exactly the same time as Drew, Go ahead. Nah, you, He insisted. Okay. How'd you get back on campus? What happened to that guard? Oh, I just made a big half-loop around the perimeter and came in the other side. No one was there, it was weird. You don't think that's a little suspicious? Nicole asked, sitting up so she wasn't leaning on him and could look him in the eye, though remaining under his arm.

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105 Maybe, He said. It became clear to Nicole that that was all he was going to say on the subject. What were you going to say? She asked. Oh, nothing, He said, physically waving it off. No, come on, what was it? Drew sighed. I was, uh, I was going to ask you about your family. But I totally understand if you don't want to talk about them. Oh, Nicole said. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn't that. Drew apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed. Nicole hadn't meant to seem like she wasn't willing to answer she was, she had just been surprised was all. No, no, it's fine. Well, I have a small family. It's just me, my parents, and my little brother Nicholas. We're both named after my father, and both our grandfathers, and even my mom, kind of, her name is Noel. Pretty cute, right? Family where everyone has pretty much the same name? I mean, other than that my family is just normal. We were raised Catholic, but pretty much just for Easter and Christmas, like any other family. I got along pretty well with all of them. Occasionally Nicky and I would fight, but that's because he's an annoying little brother and they steal your stuff and pull your hair and go in your room just for the sake of being in your room, you know? Drew was nodding, listening slightly more intently than Nicole was used to, or even comfortable with. She looked away from his expectant face, unsure of what more there was to

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106 say. Do you miss them? He asked. Nicole nodded, feeling the first effects of imminent crying; the tight chest, the closed throat, the stinging eyes. But she swallowed hard and willed herself not to cry. Yeah, of course I do. I haven't seen them in almost two years. And I'd been getting these letters and emails, but now I'm not even sure if they're real, or if they're just forged. And I don't know if they know where I am, and now I'm not sure I know where they are, or if they're even still... She trailed off then to compose herself, unable to speak the words which would throw their existence into question. Of course they were alive; they had to be. Parents didn't die, grandparents did. And little brothers didn't die either, ever. Drew, with his arm still around her, pulled her once more into his chest. This time Nicole accepted his embrace immediately, shutting her eyes tightly against his coat, trying to force out the thoughts while forcing in the tears. Drew tensed suddenly, jerking his hands from her back to her shoulders. He held her in place there, almost painfully. She could distinctly feel each of the fingers in his grip, even through the thick coat. What? She asked, but he shushed her immediately. Did you hear that? He whispered after a moment. Hear what? Nicole asked, but again he shushed her. He released his grip as suddenly as he had taken it and jumped to his feet, holding his hand out to help Nicole up.

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107 We have to go, He whispered urgently. Nicole knew better than to ask why they had to leave; doing so would only waste what little time they undoubtedly had. And besides, she was fairly certain of why Drew thought they had to leave. One question did remain, however. What about Annise? She asked. As much as she disliked her, if there was something terrible happening, even she didn't deserve that. Leave her, He commanded, already beginning to leave and gesturing for Nicole to follow. Nicole shoved her arms through the straps on her backpack as she took off after Drew. They weren't ten steps gone when they heard Annise scream. Drew looked back at Nicole to make sure she was keeping up. Seeing that she was, he ran faster. Nicole could hear men's voices now, and occasionally Annise's high, frightened one in response. She couldn't make out what was being said, however, as cold night air was rushing past her head, which was pounding from the sudden exertion. Drew cursed loudly and angrily, stopping short so Nicole nearly ran into him. What's wrong? Nicole asked, breathless and terrified. Drew turned around slowly and removed his hand from over his eye, both of which were covered in blood. He looked at his hand, then at her horrified face. Then he looked behind her, and his own face grew pale, making the dark, shining blood stand out all that much more. That was the last she saw of Drew before the black bag was shoved onto her head. Fourteen Nicole kept waiting to be hit over the head and knocked out, but it never came. A part of

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108 her thought that was worse. She had to be awake and alert for everything, with her senses hindered even more than they had been by the darkest part of the night. After the bag was placed over her head, she heard Drew yell, and knew whoever had gotten her had gotten him, too. The difference was it sounded like he struggled. Nicole could hear the distinct sound of fists hitting bodies. And she wasn't sure, but she thought she might have heard a crack. Then the struggling stopped, and Nicole was fairly certain that what she feared would happen to her had just happened to him. She could tell that there were more than two men, as she heard at least three distinct voices. So it wasn't just Mr. Bertrand and Mr. Hicks from before. In fact, she wasn't even sure if those two were a part of this group. It wasn't that she remembered their voices or anything, and she wasn't sure if she had even heard both of them speak, it was just that she didn't recognize any of these voices at all. After the sickening crunch of what was probably someone's nose, be it Drew's or one of the mysterious bag men, Nicole was kicked lightly in the backs of her knees so they buckled and she could be supported entirely by her biceps in the arms of two men of uneven height. Eventually she was able to regain her footing and walk instead of being dragged, but she could hear the distinct rustling pattern of Drew's feet dragging the forest floor. Nicole was nearly hyperventilating in the stuffy bag, sucking in her own hot breath. Tears ran down her cheeks, occasionally blotting on the fabric of the bag. She could only imagine what Drew's state would have been, were he conscious. And while thinking about it made her glad she wasn't bleeding from the face, it made her terrified for Drew. What if he bled out while

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109 unconscious? What if his own blood soaked through the fabric and drowned him? She would normally have cursed herself for being such a worrier, but for once the horrors she could imagine felt entirely possible. The ground beneath her changed as she nearly tripped into a gravel trench. She had just begun to realize that this was the one road when she was lifted and pushed rather roughly into the back seat of a car. One of the men holding Nicole spun her around on the seat and tied her wrists together behind her back. She might have struggled; she was certainly able to put up at least some fight, physically, at least. She had a feeling that's what Drew would have wanted her to do. But she was so frightened, and she knew that even if she could get loose, she would never be able to carry Drew and outrun however many of them there were. She heard the starting sounds of at least two engines. She could feel Drew slumped against her, which assured her at least a little. At least they hadn't left him face down in the woods to suffocate in a bag filled with his own blood. She realized then that she hadn't heard anything further from Annise. She had to have been captured, as she wasn't even moving, and they heard her scream. She must have been put in the other car. The car jerked forward, pushing Nicole back into the seat behind her, crushing her hands between her body and the seat. And it was that moment, the moment of really noticing her tiedtogether hands, that Nicole broke down and sobbed. She had been crying before, but it had all been silent up until now. She wanted not to, but she didn't know what else to do. And the gasping, heaving breaths actually felt like something of a relief to her. Shut up, One of the deep male voices from the front seats commanded. This, of course,

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110 had the opposite effect on Nicole, who proceeded to sob even harder. She was already in a strange car with a bag over her head and her hands bound behind her back. She was already trying to escape from a school where she had never felt she belonged, and which was possibly trying to eliminate her, and had possibly done something horrible to her family, and to the families of countless other brain-washed girls. And now a strange, menacing-sounding man was yelling at her to shut up. It almost struck her as funny, she guessed from the stress of it all. But not even she could differentiate her sobs from her gasping laughter. She heard the man mutter something under his breath, but she didn't quite catch it. Her chest felt as if all the weeds had been pulled out, and she took several deep, cleansing, rattling breaths as she shook out the last of her sobs. Then she screwed up her breathing cycle with a gasp. Drew's cold, sticky hand had landed softly on hers, and squeezed it gently. She squeezed back, much more firmly, as she fought the urge to break into tears again, but this time out of relief. The car stopped a few minutes of tense silence later. Drew took his hand back and presumably put it wherever it had been before he moved it to hers. The front doors opened and closed, then the back doors were opened, and a pair of hands grabbed Nicole by the shoulders and pulled her out of the car. Her feet didn't quite have time to properly find the ground, and she was held up only by the fingers digging into her upper arms. She was instantly reminded of when she was younger and throwing a fit and her mom would dig her fingernails into her upper arm and wag her finger in her face. Nicole ached for even her mother's scolding, so long as it would mean her mother was there beside her.

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111 She was led thusly away from the car, up a few stairs into a building, then up what felt like endless amounts of stairs. Her legs were screaming from all the previous running, and her injured calf burned she was sure the wound had opened up again. But she hardly needed to use her legs, as she was still being pulled up by her arms. She couldn't decide which pain was worse. She gathered from a few words and sounds that one of the men had carried Drew over his shoulder, so he must have been faking unconsciousness. This was probably a good idea on his part, considering they probably thought he was dangerous and would probably just have knocked him out again. She heard the sounds of several doors, and a few sounds she couldn't identify. She was then pushed down into a chair, and heard Drew being placed beside her. The men untied the rope around her wrists, then retied it so that she was attached to the chair. The bag was removed from her head. They were in a small room with almost nothing in it. The wall in front of her was white plaster, but the other walls were ornately paneled in a dark wood. She looked to her right as Drew's bag was removed. What was revealed was more greusome than she had even imagined. She knew his right eye had been cut, but now his left eye was blacked out and nearly swollen shut. His nose was cut and bruised, and slightly crooked, though she couldn't remember if it had always been that way. Every inch of his face from his nose downward was tinted dark red, and it shined in the light, revealing that it was still wet. The fabric of the bag had left criss-crossed blood stains on other open areas of skin as well. In fact, she couldn't seem to locate a part of him that was still skin-

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112 colored. While she knew he was all right, now that she saw him, his bloodied head dangling on his shoulders, limp and near lifeless, she began once more to feel the pressure building in her chest. But she pinched hard on the base of her thumb, both as a reminder of Drew's consciousness and as a soft pain to keep her grounded. She tore her eyes away from Drew and surveyed the rest of the room. Five men dressed as Mr. Bertrand and Mr. Hicks had been were standing about the room's edges, though Mr. Bertrand and Mr. Hicks were not among them. They stood with their feet shoulder-width apart and their arms behind their backs, as if waiting for some sort of command. Right behind Nicole's head, so close that she felt surprised she hadn't seen it sooner, was what appeared to be a projector. As the handle on the thin door on the wall to her left turned, she realized where she was. Two women entered through the thin door. The first was Madame Stein, who wore an uncharacteristically ugly scowl on her face. The second was Madame Reznikov, the head nurse, and Drew's supervisor. The woman Drew had seen in this room before with Melanie. The woman who was undoubtedly in charge of whatever had happened to her, and whatever may have happened to Nicole years ago when she first arrived at Madame Poussin's Academy for Girls. Madame Reznikov was a substantial woman with a Russian accent. She was notorious for telling girls Zis won't hurt, then proceeding to do whatever procedure was necessary in the least gentle manner possible. And if the girl complained or winced or grimaced, she would add, Well, it doesn't hurt me. Nicole had a feeling this was why she was in charge of whatever

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113 involved forcibly keeping a girl's eyes open. Madame Reznikov stood behind the projector, while Madame Stein walked slowly and deliberately to position herself directly in front of Nicole and Drew. Her high heels clapped against the floor as she placed each long leg in front of the other. She straightened herself before them, then exhaled sharply through her nose, a bit like an angered bull. Look at yourselves. A couple hours in the woods and you've already bloodied yourselves up, She said disdainfully, noticing Nicole's leg and Drew's face, which was admittedly difficult not to notice, it was such a ghastly sight, It's a good thing my men found you and saved you, or you might not have made it much longer. Your men are responsible for this, Nicole argued, cocking her head toward Drew's for lack of hands with which to point. Is that so? She asked, first to Nicole, then opening the question to the men standing around the room. None of them answered. Well, I guess we'll never know then, will we? Nicole was fuming, but chose not to respond. She was in enough trouble as it was, and she had probably already made it worse with her first snide comment. Madame Stein began to pace very slowly. With Nicole's level of fury, even the way she walked angered her. She kept her model legs straight and sort of swung each one around the other, only to put it down not one inch in front of the foot before it. She almost looked like she was walking on a balance beam. She walked so slowly for how much movement and sound was going into it, and it infuriated Nicole to no end. Why are we here? Nicole finally asked, much more snappily than she had intended.

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114 Madame Stein stopped short, one high heel still directly in front of the other, and turned to Nicole with a slightly surprised smile that made Nicole really want to roll her eyes, but she fought that urge. We're here because you broke the rules, Miss Davis. We're here because you're being punished. We're here because you are a problem child. Nicole felt her face twitch involuntarily into a sneer at the word child. Even if she had been a child, if you take a child from their family and alter their memories and threaten their life, the child has a way of growing up. And so it was with Nicole. Even in her clearest memories of her childhood she could not recognize the little girl around whom all the action was centered. What exactly is my punishment? Nicole asked, only slightly more calmly than her last question. You're a very special case, Miss Davis, Madame Stein began. She didn't see how this answered her question, but she kept quiet, We always knew you were different, but we always hoped you might come around. I can see now that that's not a possibility. So we're going to have to reset you. Reset me? That or remove you, but I think you would be wise to choose the former. What does that mean? You'll know soon enough, She said vaguely. Then she looked at Madame Reznikov and gave a small nod. Nicole's heart stopped, and for a moment she was paralyzed. But just as quickly she

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115 regained movement, and struggled against the ropes on her wrists. No, wait! She cried out as Madame Reznikov descended upon her, metal clasps in hand. Zis won't hurt. Nicole instinctively shut her eyes, but it was no use. Her eyes were pried and pushed open, so she stared down at her knees as her eyes dried out, refusing to look at Madame Stein. But Madame Reznikov pulled her head up by yanking on her hair. She could see Madame Stein's amused face peripherally as she stubbornly averted her gaze. The tip of the dropper with which Madame Reznikov was placing drops of some liquid into her eyes grazed her eyeball, and she wanted nothing more than to blink away the sensation. Her eyelids strained against the thin metal rods, causing her more discomfort. That's better. Now we can focus, Madame Stein said. I don't think this is necessary, Nicole stated, trying not to sound like she was begging. I believe you've shown us otherwise. Well what about Annise? Where is she? Miss Bellview is a model student, and she has been very helpful. But she was leaving, too. She was with us. How do you think we found you? Nicole made no response. She was letting Madame Stein's rhetorical question wash over her like the drops washed over her artificially opened eyes. She should have trusted her instincts. Annise wasn't just another scared student, she was a rat. A double-crossing bitch. She looked

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116 over at Drew. She knew he was still feigning unconsciousness, but she wanted someone else to recognize the audacity of the situation. Well, what about Drew? Why doesn't he have these contraptions in his eyes? He doesn't need the treatment, Madame Stein responded vaguely. Then why is he here? Why did you knock him out and capture him at all? He is still dangerous. And we thought you might like to give him a final goodbye. That was generous on our part, and you should be thankful. Nicole couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not in the sense that she was astounded and horrified, she was actually incapable of believing what she was hearing. Final? They were really going to kill him? She couldn't believe that only yesterday she had just though that this was a private school that happened to be full of quirky girls. Now it was a place that killed people for trying to escape? She knew she should be horrified, and she probably would be later, but for now the juxtaposition just somehow struck her as funny. It was like seeing a little girl with a gun; it just didn't make any sense. Madame Stein's face turned sour at Nicole's untimely laughter. Well then, She began, with her mouth still pinched, Take him away. Nicole noticed just the slightest falter in Drew's controlled, even breathing. Wait, Nicole blurted out as the guards began to move toward Drew. To her great surprise they actually did wait. What is it, Miss Davis? Madame Stein asked. You can't just kill him without letting him see me one last time.

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117 And why not? You seemed to find the prospect amusing a moment ago. He's in love with me, Nicole responded, I saved his life. He'll want to thank me, and I think he deserves that chance. Why? What has he done to deserve that? If Nicole could have, she would have closed her eyes as if recalling a painful memory. Instead she looked down at her knees briefly before Madame Reznikov pulled her head back again by the hair. Because he gave me my purpose. I saved him, and he was going to be the next Ralph Waldo Emerson. Or Henry David Thoreau. He was going to be a great writer. And now you're depriving the world of what could be the next great literary era. Nice try, Madame Stein snapped coldly. Nicole had been afraid this would happen; that Madame Stein would see through her attempt to adhere to An Academical Proposition. And now Madame Stein's tone told her that lying about submitting to the code set out in the book was worse than rejecting it. I know you don't believe that, Madame Stein continued, I know you don't believe any of this. But let me tell you, Miss Davis, that this is woman's greatest purpose, and you should be honored to have this opportunity. And you come here and you refuse to change and devote yourself to this, the most noble cause for the betterment of humanity. You have squandered this opportunity, Miss Davis. My father did not put his heart into creating this establishment for you to make a mockery of it. And as much as you may not appreciate this institution, we are still extremely generous.

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118 We will give you one more shot at learning our ways. Soon you will have forgotten all about Mr. Valentine, and An Academical Proposition, and this little room here. Why can't you just kick me out? Nicole asked. Because, dear, Madame Stein said, leaning over Nicole to bring her face inches away from her peeled-back eyes, You know too much. I know too much? Nicole repeated in shock, I still have no idea what the hell is going on here, except that you apparently torture and brain wash your students, and if that's all there is to know, then I don't want to be a part of it. If you're going to kill Drew, then you can kill me too. I think it would be wise for you to cooperate, Miss Davis, Madame Stein said in a low, threatening whisper, still inches from Nicole's face. Nicole felt her face twitch and give away her smile, which had formed shortly after the idea. Then Nicole did something she had wanted to do ever since she probably saw it in a movie or something: she spat in Madame Stein's face. Madame Stein stepped back, horror written across her spit-splashed face. She wiped furiously at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. You unappreciative little Madame Stein screamed, but she stopped herself before she could get to what little thing Nicole was. She was staring beyond Nicole, behind her. Nicole turned to look, as did most everyone else in the room. A wisp of smoke, thin and twisting, was curling up into the room from between two floor boards. It was at that moment, when everyone but Drew, who was still sitting limply with his eyes closed and head dangling, was staring at that one ribbon of smoke, that the fire alarm began

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119 to go off. They heard it distantly, as there was no smoke detector in this small room that was obviously added after the building had been built, and not by a contractor, but by someone who needed a private place, and in a hurry. More smoke followed the original bout, and began to flow in more regularly. Madame Stein shot a frightened glance to Madame Reznikov, who met it with her usual Russian stoicism. Madame Stein glanced down at Nicole and Drew, first apparently in deep thought. Then she seemed to make a decision she rather enjoyed, as her bright red lips pulled into a wicked smile. She walked quickly and confidently toward the small door, and motioned for Madame Reznikov and the guards to follow her. No, Nicole said, the implications of this action slowly dawning on her. She then repeated this word several times, screaming. Not one of those departing so much as turned to look at her. The door was shut behind the final guard, and, after a moment, locked. Nicole turned her still-forced-open gaze to Drew, who was no longer feigning unconsciousness. Instead, he was concentrating on trying to maneuver his hands with the knots still tied around them. Nicole scooted her chair over to Drew backwards. The knife in my pocket, Drew said without any useless talk about asking for help, what it was for, or the state of their situation. They just jumped into action, already having moved past shock. Looking over her shoulder as best she could, Nicole located Drew's pocket and fetched the knife. She struggled with opening it for a moment, and her heart stopped when she very

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120 nearly dropped it. As she began to saw through the ropes on Drew's wrists blindly, she noticed the incredible plain in her eyes. Smoke was filling the room quickly, and assaulting her dry, unprotected eyes. Her eyelids strained against the contraptions as she cut more and more quickly, until she heard Drew cry out in pain. I'm so sorry, Nicole cried, retracting her hand reflexively. She coughed out the smoke which had entered her lungs with her next breath. It's fine, it's fine, I'm out, Drew assured her. He wriggled his hands until the rope fell to the floor with a light thud, and he spun upward out of his chair. Nicole's vision was slowly fogging as Drew took the knife from her hands an began to cut through her ropes. Drew, please, Nicole whimpered, not wanting to sound like she was begging and failing at that, My eyes. Drew retracted the knife in one flick of his thumb as he leaped to Nicole's front. He hesitated a moment, and Nicole was unsure of whether it was out of shock and horror, or of not knowing quite how to remove the strange metal eye-openers without blinding her. Either way, he swallowed hard before delicately removing them. Nicole shut her eyes tightly once that was a possibility, still feeling the horrible sensation of smoke on her eyeballs. When she opened her eyes again in order to blink rapidly, Drew was already behind her once more, sawing through her knots. Drew dashed for the door, and Nicole took that to mean she was free. She let the rope fall from her hands and dashed over to Drew, nearly falling from the pain in her leg and in her eyes

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121 and the throbbing in her temples. Drew held out an elbow to support her, and laid the back of his other hand lightly against the door. It's hot, He explained, withdrawing his hand, Opening this door could kill us. Staying in this room will kill us, Nicole argued. Drew deliberated a moment before saying, All right. Then cover your mouth and stand back. He took a step back, then kicked at the door just under the knob. Nicole could hear the wood splinter a bit, and Drew kicked it again. And again. Until finally the portion of the door around the handle came free of the rest of the door, which swung open, revealing a tiny stairwell thick with smoke. Drew looked back at Nicole, and they shared a look which read something to the effect of it's dangerous, but it's our only hope. Then Drew pulled his shirt up over his nose, raised a hand to shield his eyes, and charged into the hot fog. Nicole followed him down the tight spiral staircase and onto a small landing. Drew kicked through this door as well, though he hadn't checked to see if it was locked. As the door shot open, Nicole saw why: behind the door was a wall of flames, licking their way up the staircase before them. Come on, Drew commanded, leading her through the other doors onto the main Hospital floor, away from the pulsing heat which made Drew's thermo-regulated coat that Nicole was still wearing a near-unbearable prison. Nicole ran after Drew through the empty floor to a second stairwell, which they

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122 discovered was not filled with fire. They descended the stairs as quickly as possible and exited the building through the fire exit. Nicole expected to be captured again once outside. It seemed unlikely that they would give her and Drew up so easily once they had tried to kill them. But the area around at least that exit of the building was vacant, and Nicole soon discovered why: two more buildings were on fire, one of which was the Headmistress's office. Nicole laughed in one short exhale, her face pulling into a smile of somewhat disbelief. What? Drew asked cautiously. This wasn't an accident, Nicole affirmed, staring wistfully at the enormous roses of flame before her, Somebody did this to save us. Yeah, well, we can thank that person once we're definitely alive, come on, Drew said pulling lightly on her elbow to get her to follow him into the woods once more. We have to thank her, Nicole argued, pulling her elbow back. Nicole, the best way to thank someone for freeing us is to actually be free. Let's go. But whoever she is, she's in danger now. You know what they'll do to her. She might have already escaped on her own. Then if we go back and search for her we'll have just ruined what she provided for us. Besides, there are tons of girls here, and any one of them could have done this for us. That's just it, Nicole cried, stubbornly refusing to follow Drew as he made several attempts to get her to move, Everyone here is a suspect. Everyone is in danger. This isn't just about us anymore. We have to bring down the entire school. We have to make sure this never

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123 happens to another girl again. Drew sighed. Fine. Fine. But whoever did this has made a pretty good start for us already. Can we at least get to somewhere safe to plan this? Nicole nodded in agreement and followed Drew once more into the woods. Fifteen Dawn had already begun to break as Nicole and Drew made their way through the woods. They walked hastily but decidedly did not run. They were both exhausted; Drew hadn't even gotten to sleep, after all. But Drew persisted that they had to make it further, to be sure they wouldn't be found before they could make a plan. When they felt they were far enough away, and incidentally when Drew was no longer able to walk due to exhaustion, they chose a spot to sit down. Drew made a feeble attempt to clear the ground the way he had for the sleeping bag, though that was no longer in their position. With only slightly more energy, Nicole took over the process, then laid down Drew's warmer coat which the growing day had rendered unnecessary for her own use. Drew flopped himself down roughly and fell asleep almost instantly. Nicole sat cross-legged by his head and looked at him. His face was still covered in dried blood, and most of it was still swollen. She wanted to clean him off, but for one she thought that might wake him up, and for two she didn't have anything with which to do so, aside from her own spit and hands. So she decided to just let him sleep. She noticed the cut on his wrist that she had inadvertently inflicted and felt a surge of guilt before remembering that the cut in her leg was caused by Drew, so she guessed they were even.

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124 Nicole sat there, staring out at the shafts of morning light which found their way through the branches above her. It was beautiful, but she could only look at something and appreciate its beauty for so long before she got bored. She wanted to read Jane Eyre, but, of course, it and the rest of her backpack had been confiscated. She almost wanted to cry. That book had been perfect. It had been highlighted, written in, and shared. Some pages were dog-eared, some were tear-stained, and still others were torn slightly from turning too quickly. No other copy of Jane Eyre she had come across had that perfect Jane on the cover. She hadn't even found a duplicate of her own, let alone another that could match its perfection. She thought it incredibly silly that it was this the prospect of finding a new perfect copy of Jane Eyre to highlight and underline was more daunting than anything else. She would have to take down an entire academic institution; she would have to find out what happened to her parents and if she could save them; she would have to find a new school, and make new friends; and if the cut in her leg didn't heal properly, she might have to find a new one of those. And she was certain that while finding a perfect match for her old Jane Eyre would be difficult, finding a perfect match for her old leg would actually be impossible. But somehow right then all she cared about was her lost book. But she at least had the sense not to cry over it. She had cried more than enough in the last twenty-four hours to last her at least a week. So without a distraction, and with the daunting task of such self-control, Nicole became even more excruciatingly tired. She knew it was not yet time to wake Drew, and she knew for him it must be worse; he had been awake longer and

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125 sustained more injuries than she had. In fact, she thought briefly that maybe he shouldn't be asleep, as he might have had a concussion. But, then again, the only medical center within maybe one hundred miles had been set on fire. And she herself was too tired to wake him up and keep him awake. So instead she slowly allowed herself to sink down to the forest floor, and to let her head rest next to Drew's, though their bodies went in different directions. She only meant to rest, but she also sort of knew that she would fall asleep.

Nicole woke up some time later. The atmospheric conditions were similar to when she had actually fallen asleep, though she was pretty sure she had been out for some time. Drew was no longer beside her, which confused and alarmed her, until he spoke. Morning, sleepyhead, he said jokingly. What time is it? She asked, raising herself up onto her elbow. Beats me. How long have you been awake? Drew just shrugged. Nicole raised herself to a seated position and looked around. It had to be sometime in the late afternoon, but not yet dusk. She had slept through the entire day. On the one hand, this was good, because she both needed the rest, and nobody had found them. But on the other, this had given Madame Stein and her accomplices plenty of time to put out the fires and possibly find her and Drew's savior and punish her, or worse, kill her. Nicole thought again about the fires. Who else could have possibly known they were in there? Who else could have possibly known about the real, hidden horrors of Madame Poussin's

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126 Academy for Girls, and wanted to destroy it with fire? Or, who was just an insane pyromaniac. For the first two questions, Nicole could only come up with one answer, which she doubted with every fiber of her being; Annise. She was the only person who knew they had been captured. But if she was going to help them, why had she double-crossed them in the first place? And as for her third question, well, that could honestly be any girl at this school. For a lot of girls, her Pixie was also her Manic; which included such things as pyromania, adrenaline junkies, and those who excel in the arts of parkour and breaking and entering. Nicole hadn't interacted much with such girls, as her Pixie had technically been declared as literature, but she still knew that they existed and that thought often frightened her. But now it was very possible that one had saved her life, whether she meant to or not, so Nicole had to appreciate that. Hey, how's your leg? Drew asked, walking over to Nicole to sit beside her. Nicole rolled up her pant leg to look at it. A long black scab ran up the outside of her calf. Around it her entire lower leg was covered in blood stains. I think it feels better than it looks, Nicole said, unable to tear her eyes away from the wound, How's your face? Drew touched various parts of his face gingerly with his fingers, occasionally gasping slightly in pain. Still bad then? Nicole asked when he made no response. Drew nodded and continued to feel out his own face. I think this one, He began, running his finger along the cut just over his right eyelid, Is from like a thorn or something.

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127 Oh, is that what that was? Nicole asked, recalling what had happened only moments before their capture. I think so. Then these, He continued, referencing his swollen, crooked nose and bruised left eye, Are from those guards. Nicole looked closer at his wounds. Did they break your nose? She asked, deciding that his nose had definitely not been that crooked before. Yeah, I think so, He said, pushing on it a little too hard and wincing. I wish I could help, Nicole said, gently pulling his hand away from his face, But I have no nursing abilities, and the hospital was burned down. We don't know if it was burned down. Okay, set on fire, whatever. Either way, it's probably out of use for everyone, let alone the people who may or may not have been the reason for it. It's fine though, my face is fine. If I was afraid of getting hurt I wouldn't have decided to live in the woods for two months. I guess that makes sense. Your nose might look like that forever though. Hey, Drew said, raising his arms above his head as if to suggest that possibility was out of his hands, I can transcend my appearance. Besides, chicks dig dudes with battle scars, right? I guess maybe some 'chicks', Nicole said, using one of the few words in the English language she hated. Ouch, you cut me deep, Nicole. Just like you cut my wrist, Drew said, playfully

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128 shoving his injured wrist in her face. That was an accident! She protested. Drew laughed and pulled her into a hug as he so often did when she was anywhere close to angry with him. And as usual, she was unprepared for it, and wanted to pull away, but soon sank into the embrace. I know, He said softly. Nicole leaned her head into his gently, not wanting to press on any bruises. She seemed to feel a spark as one tiny bit of her cheek left uncovered by her long hair made contact with a tiny bit of Drew's cheek left uncovered by either bruises and cuts or scruffy beard. As they pulled away, they paused a moment. Nicole looked up into the eyes that were looking down into hers. She saw past the cuts and bruises and blood stains, and into the bright blue eyes she had noticed during their first real encounter. She remembered how she had hated him, and realized how long ago that felt. Her mouth pulled into an involuntary smile as she thought about it, and Drew smiled too. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing. Or maybe he was just happy to see Nicole smile. And then the moment faded as they uncomfortably dropped their gaze. So, uh, Nicole began, breaking the silence that had followed, What's our plan? Well, Drew said, diving into the topic like he was thankful for any lack of silence, I suppose we'll have to look for its weak spots, right? I guess, but I think all its weaknesses are our weaknesses, too. How do you mean? Well, that we're isolated here. And even if they leave by car, there's only one road.

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129 Drew considered this for a while before finally saying, No. No what? Nicole asked, having not asked a yes-or-no question. They aren't isolated. What do you mean? The scouts. From the book, remember? They somehow have access to the outside. Right. Then we'll have to somehow cut off that access. And... I don't know, kill everyone? I'm going to be really honest here, I have no idea what I'm doing. I've never exactly done this before. Okay, okay, listen, Drew said, We find whoever set the fires, then get them to just set everything on fire. The school will be destroyed, the authorities will be called, and And we'll all be arrested for arson? Nicole finished for him. Not if we have proof that they were mistreating students. What proof is there? Nicole asked. Drew said nothing, but reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out the metal eye-openers. He wiggled them around, as if to prove they were there. Nicole skeptically asked, You kept those? Good thing, huh? Drew asked, tossing them lightly then putting them back in his coat pocket. It's just too bad the whole torture room is probably gone. We don't know that for sure yet. We should go back and check things out, just to see what we're dealing with. Right, Nicole agreed, Lead the way.

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130 Drew looked as if he was about to start walking, but stopped himself. He looked around, spinning a full 360 before giving Nicole a hard look. You don't know which way the school is, do you? She asked. Drew took a big inhale, and lifted his index finger as if to make a point, then deflated and spun around again. Okay, okay, Drew started, excitedly galloping toward the coat that was still lying on the ground, Right when we got here, which way were you standing when you put the coat down? I don't re Think! Drew interrupted. Nicole took a deep breath, then walked over to the coat. She tried standing on all its various sides, miming the action of spreading it out, until she finally got it. Staring straight down at the coat, Nicole thrust her hand out behind her, pointing and declaring, It's that way. Are you sure? Drew asked, though he was already gathering up the coat. As sure as I'll ever be, Nicole said, instantly less confident about her declaration. Regardless, the two set off in the direction Nicole had pointed out. They walked in silence for a while, with only the rustling of the forest floor and distantly chirping birds. Drew led, as he usually did, though Nicole noticed he kept one arm slightly raised and walked much more slowly than he had before. She guessed this was a result of the thorn he had taken to the eye. So, Nicole finally began. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable with the silence, it was

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131 just that now they actually had the opportunity to talk, and given what they were headed towards, it may very well be their last. Did you expect to transcend an entire institution? Drew laughed and responded, No, not really. I don't know what I was expecting, really. I guess I was kind of hoping I'd stumble upon just a tiny cabin deep in the woods, and a man in a flannel shirt with a beard and an ax would tell me all about how he hunts for his own food, lives off the land, and hadn't paid taxes in twenty years. And he would take me in as his mentee. Oh, and he'd have this really bad-ass hunting dog. You've put a lot of thought into this, Nicole said, amused and impressed by his vision. Yeah, He mused wistfully. Well, I'm sorry we aren't bearded lumberjacks. No, it's fine, Drew laughed, Believe me, finding a school full of beautiful girls around my age is even better. You would not believe how much porn begins like that. Wouldn't believe it, wouldn't want to know about it, Nicole said quickly. Sorry, Drew apologized insincerely, shrugging as if there was nothing he could do about it. But seriously, I really didn't expect to see anyone. In fact, I wasn't really sure I'd be able to handle speaking to anyone. What do you mean? I just wasn't sure I'd be ready to talk to anyone. You seemed fine talking to me, Nicole argued, trying a different angle to get at what he meant. Drew stopped briefly and turned his head around to look at her as he told her, You were

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132 different. Nicole stopped too, though Drew had already turned and continued walking. He looked back, confused at the space between them. She didn't have to say anything, Drew just began explaining. Okay, so everything I told you about my school and classes and Transcendentalism and all that was true. I just left out the part about Katie. Who's Katie? Nicole asked, stepping forward so that Drew could explain while walking. Nicole always preferred that, at least. It gave her an excuse not to have to look at the person she was talking to, and she liked to offer that same kindness when she could. She's my ex, Drew responded, with obvious pain on the final word. Oh, I get it, Nicole said, I remind you of her, don't I? Not at all, actually. Everyone else at this school does, though. I'm kind of surprised she wasn't asked to come here. Maybe she was already perfect at whatever they're trying to teach here. Nicole stayed quiet. She wasn't sure how she felt about this Katie person. It wasn't quite jealousy, but it was something of that ilk. And Nicole was sure that unnameable emotion would come out if she were to say something, so she didn't. Accepting Nicole's silence, Drew continued, I met Katie in middle school, before we both went to separate private schools. I actually didn't really like her at first, she was kind of going through this goth emo phase. Her hair was this dark purple color with, like, black stripes, and shaved on the side and she wore a ton of eye liner. And, I mean, she was still cute, but I just

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133 kind of thought she hated me, because I kind of thought she hated everyone. Anyway, then we went to our schools, and I didn't see her again until Winter Formal sophomore year. All the private schools in the area were invited. She and I both didn't have a date, and she walked right up to me and asked me to dance. And, God, I was so stupid, I actually asked her 'who are you?' She wasn't offended or anything, but she told me who she was, and I immediately remembered. Her hair had grown in a lot, so it was back to its light brown, blonde-ish color, but she still had this one streak of the same purple, and she was wearing this purple dress with, like, black corset-looking stuff on it, so she was still her, just more grown-up. She was all, 'Yeah, I guess I've changed a lot.' Then she told me, 'You've changed, too, you somehow got more handsome.' She actually said that, I couldn't believe it. She was so cool. We started dating pretty soon after that. And then this summer came, so we were finally going to get to hang out more, and she told me she was going to Sweden for the whole summer. So I was pretty bummed, especially because she didn't tell me sooner, even though I know she had to have known about it already. But I told her it was fine, and to have fun. Then literally, in her first letter, she told me we were done. She told me she had to focus on painting, and that she needed someone who understood that, which was bullshit because I totally understood that, but I think what she meant by that was that she had found someone who understood that. Drew realized how fast he was talking and took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, Anyway, so that's when I decided I had to do it. I had to go out, be away from

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134 everyone. Because I didn't want their pity, you know? And that was great for a while. I mean, sure, I was pretty broken up over Katie, but eventually that got better, and I think being alone really helped that. Then that's when I found this school. And, of course, the moment I stepped into the clearing to see if it was going to be a chubby hunter's cabin, I was surrounded by girls. But I couldn't talk to any of them. They all reminded me too much of Katie. So bubbly and quirky and fun and energetic. And then I saw you, and to be honest you kind of gave me a 'what the hell is he doing here?' look, but that was good. I'd had enough of girls marching up to me and asking me to dance, you know? He actually paused, as if expecting an answer for this 'you know,' which Nicole wasn't expecting since he hadn't for any others. Oh, uh, yeah, She fumbled. She had actually zoned out a little for that part, listening only to the tones in Drew's voice, not so much the words. He had a very soothing voice, which she enjoyed, but it made it difficult to really listen to. She was able to get the gist of the story, however. So then when I met you for the first time, it was great. You were different. You were the exact opposite of Katie and everyone else, and I think that's why I was drawn to you. Her impulsiveness and romanticism of her own life were what bothered me about her, so meeting someone as cool and down-to-earth as you was exactly what I needed. Huh, Nicole said, merely to acknowledge that he had finished and that she was thinking about it, which she was. His story certainly turned out better than it had started, for her at least,

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135 but she still wasn't sure how she felt about him choosing her on the basis that she was his exgirlfriend's opposite. In a way she did pride herself on being so chill, as so many of the girls at Madame Poussin's were whatever the opposite of chill was. But she also knew that it was a problem for her in her non-traditional schooling, and that it made her something of an outsider, even the subject of ridicule to some of the less kind students, so often it was a source of selfconsciousness. It was interesting to her, then, that he liked that about her. Because when she had voiced these concerns to friends, or even counselors, they had always assured her 'no, no, of course you're quirky like everyone else,' so that was how she was used to being affirmed, and anything else was used to insult. It was strange to her to receive it the other way. So do you miss her? Nicole asked. Drew looked over at Nicole, who had been walking beside instead of behind him for the duration of his story. He smiled and responded, Not in the least. Nicole smiled, too, and Drew draped an arm across her shoulders. He took it back a few moments later when he had to use it to push away branches more frequently. Nicole was sort of disappointed that it couldn't last longer, but she knew the increase in low-lying brush meant they were close to campus, so soon her seriousness kicked in and she forgot about any notion of physicality. Once they were near the edge, Drew found a spot from which to see a good deal of the campus. They could see the Health Building, which was blackened and had several large holes, though for the most part still stood. They couldn't see the other two buildings they knew to have been on fire, and if there had been any more they couldn't see those either. For the most part they

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136 saw the classroom and dormitory buildings. The MPAG campus was set up in rings: the innermost ring was the circular quad, next were the office of the Headmistress, the library, admissions and records, then the Health building, a theater and auditorium, and the dining hall, and then classrooms and dorms. Nicole was actually relieved to see none of the dorms had been burned. While she wanted the obliteration of the entire school system, she didn't want it at the cost of the belongings and possibly lives of innocent students. That was when she thought of it. We need to get all the students on board. Maybe even the teachers, if they don't know what's really going on. Definitely. But how do we do that? You know how all they want to do is talk to you? Yeah, Drew said slowly. I hope you're ready this time, because they'll probably only listen to you. Drew reluctantly agreed. The pair then found a path through the brush and, when there was just one layer of bushes in front of them, they checked to see that it was clear. Nicole pointed out the closest dormitory, and on a count of three, they dashed for it. Nicole pulled her MPAG identification card out of her back pocket as she neared the door. She swiped it and Drew opened the door the moment he heard the click, then pulled the door shut once Nicole was inside. They weren't in Nicole's dormitory, Springer, but Dellum. She wasn't sure she knew

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137 anyone who lived there, as most of the people she knew well enough to have visited their rooms lived in Springer or Dickinson, where Edyn lived. She was fairly certain that news of Drew's arrival had spread to the entirety of campus, and if there was a nearby town, she was sure it would have spread there, too, so Dellum worked just fine. The inside of the building looked identical to the inside of Springer; a long, narrow hallway of doors, lined with various flyers and posters advertising someone's band, someone's alternative art show, someone's lost pair of sunglasses. Nicole looked at Drew, who still seemed hesitant, and shrugged. She knocked on the first door in the hallway. A tall, athletic girl with dark skin and a darker puff of hair on her head answered. The emotions on her face ranged from 'who are you and what are you doing here?' to 'oh wait, it's that guy,' to 'what the hell is wrong with his face,' then back to 'who are you and what are you doing here?' all in about three seconds. Do you mind if we come in? Nicole asked. The girl nodded and opened the door wider for Nicole and Drew to enter. I'm Nicole, by the way, Nicole said, offering the girl her hand. Drew, Drew introduced himself with a simple wave of the hand. The girl shook her hand, the confusion still contorting her face slightly, and responded, I'm Naima. And that's Helena. She referenced the pale girl with white-blonde hair who was sitting on her bed and painting her toenails. Hi, Helena, Nicole said, waving to the girl. Helena waved back happily with the hand that was holding the nail polish brush, splattering several drops onto the sheets around her. It was

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138 then that Nicole noticed she wasn't only painting her toenails, but her entire toes. Nicole dropped her hand to her thigh with a light slap and nodded, having seen much weirder of the girls of Madame Poussin's. Do you mind if we shut the door? This is kind of important, Nicole said to Naima. Are you going to kill us? Helena asked, her eyes on her lime green toes. Naima rolled her eyes and moved to close the door. Ignore her, She said, certainly loud enough for Helena to hear, though she seemed to pay no mind. Okay, so, Nicole began, but Naima cut her off. Are you going to tell me what happened to this handsome boy's face? She asked bluntly. Drew smiled and looked up at the ceiling, evidently fairly proud of himself. I'll get to that, yes, Nicole assured her. Then she told her about the book, and her altered memory, and escaping, and the black-bagging and knocking out and eye-forcing-open, with which Drew assisted with the actual props in his pocket. Before those, Naima hadn't seemed entirely convinced, but the actual eye-openers seemed to convince her more than Drew's cuts and bruises. So, do you have any weird memories like that? Nicole asked. No, Naima said slowly, mulling it over as she said it, But Helena and I are both first years, maybe they just haven't gotten around to us yet. But you do believe us? Nicole asked hopefully. Naima took a deep breath. I want to, it's just I know it seems far-fetched, Drew cut in, But it's happening, and we need to stop it.

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139 Not just the abuse, but the whole idea of raising girls just to be these ideas whose only purpose is to inspire men. That does seem pretty stupid, Naima said, more convinced. So you'll help us? Nicole asked. Help you what? Naima asked in response. Nicole and Drew looked at each other, then Drew spoke, We haven't really gotten that far yet. We were kind of hoping to get support, and then we'd get an idea. Naima looked from Drew to Nicole and back, eyebrows raised high. You might want to work on that, She said, then, noticing the pleading look on Nicole's face, she added, But yeah, if what you guys are saying is true, then I think we need to stop it. We could blow everything up, Helena mused to the ceiling. Nicole looked at her a moment, wondering if she might be their arsonist, but she figured she would have said something before, like when they mentioned being in the Health Building the night before. Thank you so much, Nicole said, We'll let you know when we know what our next move. In the mean time, we're going to be telling everyone else, could you maybe tell some people too? I think we'll need a big following for this to work. I'll try, but I don't know how well I'll do without Mr. Fight Club Face, here. Drew laughed again, and Nicole thanked Naima again, then bid both her and Helena good bye before heading for the next door.

They completed the remainder of the hallway, pruning their story as they went down to

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140 what was just enough to convince, but kept them moving in a timely manner. Some of the girls were not nearly as accepting as Naima had been, some were more so. One pair of roommates even told Nicole that they both had the exact same memory of their first meeting, but couldn't remember anything around it, like unpacking together, or what they talked about past their introduction. The two also agreed that there was a stiff, robotic quality to this memory. Nicole recalled what Drew had said about Melanie's brain-washing, and wondered if, when she finally spoke to her again, she would express the same thing. Then Nicole wondered how many other girls had been subjected to that same abuse because of her. Nicole didn't know very many of her fellow students on a personal level, but how could Madame Stein know that? Had all her former classmates, and even girls who lived in neighboring rooms, been made to believe that they had never met her? She thought about all the girls in Dellum to whom she'd had to introduce herself, and wondered if any of them had actually previously known her, before she was erased. When they had finished with that hallway, it had already grown dark outside. They had yet to cover three more floors, and that was just in that one building, and there were four others after that. So far nobody had seemed to be responsible for the fires. Nobody even seemed to know anything about them, other than that they happened. It was reported that it had been an electrical fire. When Nicole first heard this she immediately rejected it; of course the fires had been on purpose, they had saved her life. But as she thought about it more, she realized that she had never seen anyone running away, and she definitely didn't know the difference between an electrical

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141 fire and any other kind of fire. It could have been the coincidence of the century that it happened just when she needed it most. We can't keep doing this, Drew said to Nicole's great relief. She hadn't wanted to be the one to say it after she had convinced him to do it in the first place. You're right, Nicole agreed. She looked outside through the window on the door opposite the one through which they first entered the building. It was a thin window, and rather high up, so it was difficult to see through, and it was dark, but from what Nicole could tell, nobody was outside. She opened the door a crack to look futher. What are you doing? Drew asked. Come on, Nicole said. This time she grabbed his wrist as she started running. She felt the timing was inappropriate, but she felt exhilarated. The dark campus passed by her rapidly, and her heart rate was elevated both from the sudden exertion and from the possibility of being caught again. She was even certain that her captors wouldn't bother with a second chance were they to catch her again. She could actually die. And yet she smiled as she ran, letting the cool wind touch her teeth. She stopped when they had arrived where she intended, still inappropriately exhilarated, but this time because they hadn't been caught. She was happy to see that her favorite building on campus had not been burned down. What is this? Drew asked. Nicole held her finger up to her mouth and shushed him as she opened the door, then whispered, The library.

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142 Why are we here? Drew whispered back. You'll see, Nicole whispered with a smile, turning and leading Drew up a grand flight of curved stairs. The interior of the library and the exterior, for that matter was beautiful. It always reminded her of the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C., which she had only actually been in once, but had loved. Except the Library of Academia, as the library of Madame Poussin's was called, was much cozier. It combined all the best aspects of old, rich libraries, with big shelves and ornate mahogany and rolling ladders, with those of a coffee house, with overstuffed chairs, several fireplaces, and even the smell of coffee, as there was a small machine tucked away in a corner. Naturally, it was a favorite spot for many students, but Nicole always felt a strange claim over it, as if they only loved it to show off to others how much they could love a library, but she actually loved it. Nicole had a feeling that most non-dorm buildings would be empty after what had happened to at least three of them, and it appeared she had been correct. Not even the librarians were there. It was curious, then, that the doors were unlocked. Nicole wondered if it meant that the librarians had decided on their own not to come, instead of being instructed not to by higher authorities. Either way, Nicole was just glad she was able to be in the building at all. Not only did she love the library, but she was fairly certain it was the only place on campus with a copier, at least that she had access to, and her only tiny shred of an idea required a copier. She pulled a blank piece of paper from the machine and found a pen laying nearby. She set the paper on a table, and without even sitting down, proceeded to write out the exact story she

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143 and Drew had perfected. It read as follows: Fellow students. You must believe me when I tell you that our school is founded on the basis of misogyny and run on the basis of lies and abuse. I personally have read the essay that founded this school. In it, it is laid out that all women should be taught to be beautiful, strange, and alluring not intelligent or independent or able all to serve one purpose: to maybe one day save a depressed genius from killing himself, so that he can then save the world. This school is teaching you to be a pretty girl who inspires greatness not a woman who can actually achieve greatness. Because the founders of this school do not believe we are capable of it. This is still this school's goal, and they are extremely secretive about it. So secretive, in fact, that they would alter your memories to preserve its real prerogative. Think: do you have any memories that seem stiff, out of place, or just wrong? You may have been tied to a chair and had your eyes forcibly kept open while watching a series of images until you believed them to be your own memories. I have witnessed this event, and I have been a victim to it. You may not believe me. It does sound crazy, I know. But you have to trust me. As a fellow student who believes in the true potential of everyone here. As your classmate, your neighbor, your friend. I am already in great danger, and I believe it will not be long before we all are. And the only way to save ourselves is to all rise up together. The only way their plan works is if we all refuse to be a part of it. We can end this, but you have to help. Nicole then signed it and looked up at Drew, who had been reading over her shoulder as she wrote.

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144 You're a much more convincing writer than orator, Drew commented. Thank you, Nicole said, unsure whether or not he actually meant it as a compliment. I think it's good, but even if you convince people, they aren't going to do anything if you don't tell them what to do. Nicole considered this, then looked down at her paper. Beneath her signature she wrote: Six A.M. The Circle. Six? Drew asked dubiously. As much as I'd love to push it to noon so everyone could sleep in, I don't think we can risk waiting that long here. That's a good point, Drew said. Nicole took her paper over to the copier and scanned it. Ready for another all-nighter? Nicole asked as she pressed the copy button. Please, Drew scoffed, I'm pretty much nocturnal. Sixteen Nicole and Drew each took to a window on separate sides of the library to watch while they waited for their five hundred copies to finish. When that was through they divided the hefty stack into not-quite halves, Drew insisting on taking the larger one. Okay, Nicole said, straightening her pile of papers on the table, You take the south dorms and I'll take the north, because that's where I live and where my best friend lives. There are three south dorms; the one we were just in, and then the buildings on either side of that. All the dorms look identical, so you shouldn't have a problem there.

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145 How will I get in? Drew asked. Oh, right, here, Nicole said, laying the stack on the table as she fished in her back pocket and pulled out an ID, This one's Melanie's. She always leaves it places and I always pick it up for her, but I guess I didn't give it back to her yet. Nicole handed him the card and he stowed it in his own back pocket. Okay. What if one of us gets caught? Or is about to? How will we know? Nicole picked up her stack of papers slowly, considering this. In all the not-gettingcaught, she had sort of forgotten that that was even a possibility. MPAG was all about personal and hand-written communication, so nobody had cell phones or anything. Now Nicole realized this was a way of further isolating the girls, but at the time it had felt very Hogwarts. In fact, even now some twisted part of her wanted to seriously tell Drew to just send up red sparks if he got into any trouble. If you see someone coming for you or whatever, definitely run. Or see if someone will harbor you. Either way, save yourself. And if one of us actually does get caught... Nicole trailed off then, thinking of the best way to word it, Don't give anything away about the other. And the other person should just keep getting the word out, I guess. And we'll meet at the circle at six, if not earlier. Drew nodded, his expression determined under all the bruising. Nicole continued, Make sure you knock on the doors as you deliver these. Wake them up, so they know. You really think this will work? Drew asked. It wasn't necessarily doubtful, but it

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146 wasn't exactly hopeful either. Do you have a better idea? Nicole shot back. Drew raised his eyebrows and shook his head, and with that they walked back down the grandiose staircase and to the large front doors of the library. Nicole was reaching for the door when Drew grabbed her hand. He spun her toward him, then pressed her into his chest in a hug. Her one arm that was cradling the papers was squashed between them, so she only had one arm to hug him with. And likewise, Drew seemed to find it awkward to hold a stack of approximately three hundred fliers while simultaneously hugging Nicole, but nonetheless, it was comforting. We'll do that better when we see each other again, Drew said as he ended their hug. When, Nicole confirmed, as if making a promise to him. When, Drew repeated, affirming this promise. With one last encouraging smile, Nicole and Drew each opened one side of the double doors, surveyed the campus for a moment, then took off in the direction of their assigned dormitories.

Nicole took to her own dorm first, as she was curious to see what had become of her roommate. She wanted to go straight to her room, but she knew handing out the fliers was more important. So she knocked on each of the five doors that came before hers and slid the paper underneath. Though it might have been helpful to explain in person, Nicole was glad when nobody opened their doors; she could get to her own room sooner. She twisted the handle and nearly walked into the door. It was locked. Her door was

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147 never locked. Nicole actually used the key dangling from the chain around her neck and opened the door. She opened the door. Her side of the room, the side immediately visible when standing straight in the doorway, was completely unchanged, but then Nicole turned her head to the left. It was bare. There was only a bed with an uncovered mattress, a barren desk, an empty dresser with one drawer open and one removed entirely, and the record player with no record on it. Nicole could see the spots on the wall where tape and sticky tack on the backs of posters had altered the white walls. Everything was gone. But at least Nicole's stuff was still there. They weren't planning on totally obliterating her yet. She looked over the entirety of the half-empty room and wondered where Melanie had been moved to, and what she would do if she saw Nicole. Would she be able to bring back those memories? Or had Nicole been entirely locked out of her mind? She and Melanie had never been particularly close, but it still saddened her to think that anyone could just be removed from someone's memory like that. As fickle as it was, Nicole felt that was the whole reason behind meeting people: to store them in your mental scrapbook. She wondered then if it was possible to erase all existing memories of a person. What would become of that person? Would the idea that nobody knows who they are destroy them? Was it possible to just start over from scratch like that? Even infants, even fetuses can create some semblance of a memory for the sound of their mother's voice. Was living without anybody knowing it the same as being dead? The thought frightened Nicole, but she still had a job to do. She roused herself, and with

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148 one final look about the strange, depressing room, she shut the door, leaving it unlocked in Melanie's honor. Nicole then continued around her building. A couple of times girls would open their doors, always holding the flier but not yet reading it, looking for the explanation they didn't know was right in their hands. The first couple of times Nicole stopped to explain, but eventually she had to just tell the girls to read it, and to please trust her and beg them to help. The girls began to look more and more scared at these short explanations, and Nicole had to admit that she did sound a little insane. She was out of breath from running up the stairs and delivering the papers so quickly, and her knuckles hurt from all the knocking. She had no idea if this plan would really work, but she couldn't stop to think about it or she would bog herself down and be unable to continue. It was well past midnight when she moved on to the next building. She felt the same thrill as before as she ran the short jaunt from Springer to Dickinson, but this time there was much less exuberance. Nicole couldn't tell if it was because she was alone, or because she was more tired, or because of all she had thought on the topic of memory and erased persons and her old roommate. Edyn lived on the third floor, so it was a while before she could get to her room. Because it had gotten late and Nicole was sure some of the girls had gone to sleep, she made sure to wait for the door to open each time. They had to read it before they fell asleep, or they wouldn't wake up in time to be of any help. Nicole got her spiel down to just a few lines: Everything you know is a lie. This school

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149 isn't what you think. Please read. Please help. The girls in this dorm gave her even more confused, scared, and angry looks than before. A few even shut the door in her face before she could say all four sentences, but nevertheless Nicole slid the paper under the door and hoped for the best. She was beginning to grow weary, and it was more and more difficult to keep from wondering how many girls would actually show up. When she finally got to Edyn's room she knocked just above the grotesque painting with the fleshy outside of her fist. She had long since given up on her albeit louder knuckles, as they had become red and raw. Edyn, Nicole called out when still nobody had answered the door after several rounds of pounding. Finally the door swung open, and Edyn stood there, her hair defying all laws of hair physics and her eyes shut. If you've come for a late-night lesbo sex romp you're out of luck, Edyn grumbled in a voice even gravellier than her normal speaking voice. Edyn, this is important, Nicole explained, shoving one of the last few papers into Edyn's unreceptive hands, Edyn, come on. Edyn opened her eyes exaggeratedly wide, then blinked rapidly. She finally allowed her fingers to grasp the paper, then looked down at it as if it were written in Japanese. Reading, are you serious? Edyn asked, I can hardly even control my motor functions right now. Fine, Nicole said, diving rapidly into the whole story, a story much more like the one she had told to Naima and Helena. Edyn began to wake up during the course of the story, and

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150 didn't make a joke about it, which was extremely rare for her, and was the surest sign that she really believed what Nicole was telling her. Oh my God, Edyn said quietly, nearly under her breath, Gavin. It was the first time Nicole had heard Edyn use the phrase oh my God unironically. Edyn continued to explain that Gavin had been her maybe-what-you-might-call-a-boyfriend before she had come to Madame Poussin's. She recalled that when they broke up, he had simply told her I'm breaking up with you. She described the memory as robotic and stiff and out-ofplace, and that she was unable to remember how she got to the spot of that breakup, or where she went after, or even if she said anything. It was just another timeless moment. Edyn had thought that she couldn't remember the rest because the memory was too painful, but as she compared it with Nicole's memory, she realized that wasn't the case. She realized too that she could hear a faint voice, a woman's voice, telling her He said after the iteration of the breakup line. She had always thought that this was her conscience, or some other part of her brain, trying to convince her that the experience had been real. It was one of those things that she had never told anyone about, but sort of assumed that everyone else experienced too. So you do believe me, right? Nicole confirmed, though she was fairly certain that even without her story she would have her friend's support. Fuck yes I believe you. Fuck those fuckers, Nicole spat, raising her tiny fist in ire. And you'll help me hand these out and convince people and wake them up in like three hours?

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151 Edyn took an excited breath like she was going to agree, then out of nowhere deadpanned, Not before coffee and cuter clothes. Fine, Nicole agreed, then she gave Edyn an up-and-down and joked, You could definitely use both. Edyn narrowed her eyes at Nicole then pushed her out of her room, shutting the door behind her. I'll either be on this floor or the one above it when you finish, Nicole called through Edyn's door. I think you mean if, Edyn called back. It was then that Nicole even remembered that Edyn had a roommate. She stopped, trying to think of what Edyn's room had looked like, and trying to remember if she had seen a lump in the bed. She decided that she had. Or at least that for now it didn't matter; she had more pressing matters. Nicole was about to get back to handing out her story and waking up spunky, angry girls, when she felt she hit the metaphorical wall. The feeling you get when it's late, and you've just finished some grueling task, and you're about to go to sleep, and then you remember you have something else you have to do. Something twice as taxing. And no matter what that second thing is, it will always feel entirely insurmountable. Nicole leaned her back against Edyn's door, letting her head lean back against it a little more roughly than she intended. She squinted from the blunt pain, then rolled her head to the side.

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152 Make me some of your contraband, Nicole called, finding that it was difficult even to move her jaw. She was referring to Edyn's coffee maker, which was considered a kitchen appliance and was therefore technically not allowed in the dorms. Edyn opened the door as Nicole slid down it, so Nicole fell backwards into Edyn's room. Then she just lay there a moment. Poor baby, Edyn cooed while coaxing just a few more drops out of her coffee maker to fill a substantial part of the first mug. She switched the two mugs easily, a trick she had no doubt done before, most likely so that she wouldn't have to wait for her own mug to fill up a second time. As she opened several tiny packages of sugar and creamer she had stolen from the dining hall, she continued, It's hard work being the hero. I'm not the hero, Nicole objected exhaustedly, not even opening her eyes as Edyn placed the mug's handle next to her fingers. Edyn sat on the floor and lifted her friend's head into her lap, then added, Yet. Seventeen One burnt tongue and one poor shoulder massage later, Nicole left again with the last of her copied papers. Edyn still had yet to change and drink her own coffee, but promised Nicole she'd be with her to help as soon as she could function properly, and wished her good luck. Nicole then continued, recharged somewhat. She faced some of the worst grumpiness then, as it was nearly four by then, and most girls were in their deepest sleep at that time. These girls were, for the most part, unhappy with the two hour notice, but she was able to convince them all to at least take the paper back into their dorms.

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153 One door, however, opened before Nicole could even knock on it. She wasn't sure whose face must have looked more surprised, her own or the girl leaving her room in a fluffy robe and flip flops and carrying a basket of toiletries. They had both exclaimed sounds of surprise and apologies of nearly running into each other. Is this when you always take showers? Nicole asked, finally managing to say something intelligible. The girl giggled and nodded and in a flute-like voice explained, I guess I'm just a morning person. This isn't even morning, Nicole argued, This is still night. It's dark. The girl giggled again and shrugged, moving to step past Nicole. Oh, wait, Nicole said, having only just remembered the whole thing about the misogyny and the terror. She held out a flier for the girl to read and added casually, I mean, since you're already up. The girl read on, right there in front of Nicole. Nicole wasn't sure if she should move on or not, and looked around uncomfortably. When she did look back at the girl she looked about a foot shorter. Her shoulders were slumped, her smile had fallen to a look of distraught confusion, and her shower caddy appeared to have multiplied in weight. The girl looked up at Nicole, her face as overwrought as if the paper had only contained pictures of dead puppies. Having no idea what else to do, Nicole pulled her face into a fake smile and gave the girl

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154 a thumbs-up. I'm sorry, Nicole rushed, patting the girl on the shoulder, I wish I could fully explain this to you. You deserve that, you really do, but I have about fifteen of these yet to deliver, so if you could just bring any questions to The Circle in two hours, that'd be great, thanks! The girl just stood there, slowly turning her dejected face back down to the paper, her body seemingly frozen in that spot in the middle of the hallway. Nicole gave her a guilty look as she pushed on the door to the last upward flight of stairs she would have to take. She had just finished with the first door a fairly agreeable room when Edyn arrived on the floor. Thank you so much, Nicole told her as she handed her half of the already-verydwindled stack. Just tell them exactly the story I told you. And whatever else you want to add. Use your discretion, of course, Nicole considered this a moment, Okay, well use my discretion. And then just tell them to read it. You got it, Edyn said. With both of them working, they finished the final floor quickly. The final room even offered to stay up, since it was so close to that time anyway. Nicole somehow managed to convince those two girls who appeared to be twins, though it might have been a coincidence, or just Nicole's exhausted mind refusing to properly distinguish between faces to run through the dorm and wake everyone up at ten to six. The pair seemed solemn but determined, and Nicole could only guess that they had some sort of false memory or otherwise to attach them to the

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155 situation. For that fact, Nicole was simultaneously thankful and relieved. With that covered, Nicole and Edyn descended the four floors, peeked through the windows and cracked-open door, and sprinted back to Nicole's dorm, where they would do exactly what the maybe-twins would do in Edyn's. Nicole's first plan had been to find Drew at the south dorms, but A, she wasn't sure there would be time to get there, find him, be of any help, and then get to the circle, B, waking people up was a better idea, and C, now that the word was out there, there was a distinct possibility that someone other than a student had caught wind of it, and would be waiting to end Nicole and any sort of uprising she may be planning. She wasn't sure entirely if she could consider this an uprising. She certainly didn't feel like Spartacus, or that guy who stood in front of the tanks. Of course she couldn't be sure how they felt, but she imagined it was a lot more brave and noble, and a lot less wanting to curl up in a ball and cry I'm sorry, I didn't mean it and have everything just go back to the way it was. Or maybe they did feel that way. Either way, she felt she was at a point of no return. No amount of balled-up repent could save her now, so she may as well go for it.

Nicole and Edyn sat on Nicole's bed, side by side, staring at the empty second half of the room. It felt as if every time Nicole looked at the clock, her heart would beat out the number as rapidly as possible, because each time she looked at it, it was closer to show time. Nicole was reminded of the time when she was five years old, and she was backstage before her kindergarten play. She was dressed up as the color orange, and she could see the lights and front-row faces from where she stood. Her teacher was alerting them that it was time for the

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156 curtain to come up. The other students, dressed as other colors and art supplies, were lining up, and Nicole was being herded in with them. The students were pushing, and she was digging in her heels. Her face was red and tear-stricken. The teacher was telling the kids to go around her. She was being lectured and scolded. She was crying more and more. Her teacher finally pushed her onstage, and she had to find her spot through her bleary eyes, and everyone was watching her. To this day she regarded it as her most embarrassing moment, though most people she told about it assured her it was adorable. She looked at the clock one more time. 5:49 changed to 5:50. She was dressed as the color orange. She was lined up to go on stage. Well, Nicole said, as more of an invitation than an introduction to a sentence. Let's wake some bitches up, Nicole said, bounding off the bed. Nicole followed her off the bed and out into the hallway. She was leading the Spartans; she was standing up to the tanks; she was walking onstage in line with everyone else. They split the floors. Edyn, with almost incomprehensible amounts of energy, took to the top two floors, while Nicole stayed on her own and the one above. Nicole could hear Edyn through the ceiling, shouting obscenities and banging on doors. Though she felt uncomfortable with it at first, Edyn's continued rampage made her laugh, and she lost her inhibition. Nicole, too, ran through the hallway, yelling at her neighbors to wake up, and even that the day of reckoning is upon us!

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157 She sprinted up the stairs to the second floor and took to it even more enthusiastically. She threw herself at doors, kicking them and calling out battle cries. The girls who were beginning to emerge from their assaulted doors looked at her as if she was crazy, but Nicole went right on yelling and skipping and waving her hands, trying to get them to follow her. She returned to the first floor, with only one or two girls following at a distance, rubbing their eyes and combing through their hair with their fingers. To her great surprise and relief, the hallway was actually rather filled with girls squinting through the hallway lights and talking to each other confusedly. Hey, there she is! One of the girls called out, and subsequently the hall fell silent. She stairwell behind her slowly filled with girls, staring at her, waiting. She could practically feel them begging for a speech. The moment seemed to call for it. Uh, She began in the best possible beginning to a speech, Thank you all, so much, for waking up for me. Believe me, I wanted it to be at a more reasonable hour as much as you all do, but we just can't wait any longer. Whether you all have relevant experiences of your own, or if your roommate or best friend does, or even if you're just here for me or if you're just here because I just hit your door with my entire body while wailing at you your support is invaluable. I'm going to lead you all to The Circle now. And honestly, I wish I could tell you what will happen when we get there. Your suggestions are welcomed, seriously. I just ask that you all trust me, which you have already shown me you do. But I also ask that if you're doing this, it's because you want to. If you're fine with being told that your highest potential is possibly being

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158 the trophy of the man who saves the world, fine. If you're okay with having your loved ones isolated from you, fine. If you don't mind occasionally having your memory altered in a painful, torturous way, then that's fine by me; stay here. But if you think we're capable of more, and that we deserve more, I ask that you please follow me. Nicole then spun around and charged out through the door behind her, finally not cracking it to check for potential danger first. The crowd behind her gave a rather enthusiastic cheer and followed her out the door. Edyn elbowed Nicole in the ribs as she caught up with her at the head of the pack. As much as this moment seemed to call for solemn stoicism, Nicole couldn't help but smile. Because she had gotten such great support; because her best friend was beside her; because the morning sun was shining through the forest and onto her face, warming it just enough from the chill of six AM. She was also smiling because the levels of seriousness and gushiness were almost too ridiculous to handle. Much how she had an inappropriate smile reaction when she was being scolded by an authority figure, or when she was listening to a speech at a funeral and everyone around her was crying, or really in any situation where everyone around her was crying; sad movie, last day of sixth grade, death of a class pet; right in that moment she felt her cheeks pull. The maybe-twin girls from Edyn's dorm joined the following with their own group, about the same size as Nicole's. She wasn't sure how many girls had stayed behind, but she felt it couldn't have been too many. There were so many footsteps and so much chattering, for which Nicole was thankful, because total silence in this sort of a march to war would have made everything worse.

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159 Nicole looked over at Edyn, who was fighting back laughter. As they locked eyes, they both finally lost it and just laughed. Like when she had sobbed in the car with the bag on her head, she felt a release of tension, which just made her laugh more. Without a word, she and Edyn seemed to have agreed upon what they were laughing about, and Nicole was sure that whoever was immediately behind them would be even more confused than she already was.

The Circle was already occupied by the girls of the South dorms when they arrived. Nicole scanned the crowd for Drew. She knew he would be easy to find because he was pretty tall and also the only one with a beard, so she quickly decided that he wasn't there. Nicole tapped a girl standing with the group that hadn't just arrived on the shoulder. When she turned around Nicole was surprised to find that it was Naima, looking at her with attentive eyes, as if she were awaiting instruction. Oh, hey Naima. Have you seen Drew? Nicole asked. Naima's eyes widened. Oh, you don't know? She asked. Know what? Nicole asked, directing the question also to the other few girls who had joined their conversation. A few of us saw him run off into the forest, One of the girls explained. Was someone chasing him? Did they catch him? Why was he running? Nicole asked the three questions in quick succession, and the moment of quiet shrugging that followed irritated her. I saw him right before he went outside, and he said he needed to go find you, Said

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160 another girl as she joined the small circle. What did he need? Nicole demanded. I don't know, but he told us to get out of the dorms immediately and to take our most valuable objects, The girl squeaked. She sounded frightened. Can you tell us what's happening? Nicole ignored this question and looked about the crowd, only just then noticing that they all seemed to have a bag of some sort. But why? They hadn't discussed this. Did he think that adding this would get more people to actually leave? Should she have thought to have done the same. As if on cue, the girl whom Nicole had run into on the way to the shower walked up to her and asked, Hey, should we have some sort of a bag or something? Your note didn't say anything about it. I.. Nicole trailed off, looking at the girl's wet hair and realizing how badly she wanted a shower, but then she collected herself and finished, I don't know. Well should we go back and No! Nicole interrupted her sharply. If there was one thing Nicole was sure about in this poorly-thought-through plan, it was that they should have as many people in one place as possible. All of a sudden, the crowd fell totally silent. Briefly Nicole thought it was because of her snapping at Shower Girl, but then she saw the real cause. Madame Stein, with Madame Reznikov and about ten guards in tow, was slithering through the crowd, her eyes narrow slits. If she could

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161 have, Nicole was fairly certain she would be jutting her tongue in the air to smell the fear. The small group around Nicole fell behind her as Madame Stein approached. Nicole stood up straighter, confident that her side was stronger, and that Madame Stein could do nothing about it. Nicole was also glad to see that they were here, and not somewhere torturing Drew. Unless they had already killed him. But Nicole shook that idea from her mind and went on staring down Madame Stein, who stopped several yards from her. This is quite the show, Miss Davis. I could say the same about this whole school, Stein, Nicole retorted. Madame Stein hated the use of last names on their own, and raised her eyebrows at it. Is that what this is about? Poor teenagers, school is so hard, She said patronizingly. Quite the opposite, actually. Everyone here will agree that we are being underchallenged, underutilized, and under-appreciated. We deserve better than the shit life you're trying to force on all of us. Nicole was surprised by the anger in her own voice. She had always avoided confrontation, so she had no idea it would come so easily. All we have ever done is provide you extremely fortunate young women with the skills necessary to achieve your greatest possible And what's that? To keep some depressed jerk from taking his own miserable life so that he can make something of himself? To keep the population of geniuses as high as possible, and to save the world, Miss Davis. Save the world? You really think isolating girls from their families, torturing them, and

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162 telling them they need a man to be of any use is saving the world? Yeah, glad that guy didn't kill himself. My father was a great man! Madame Stein shot back. It was the first time Nicole had heard any real emotion in her voice. Fury and sorrow mixed to make her utterance a deepthroated howl of pain. And for your information, he did kill himself. After my whore of a mother left him. And do you know why, Miss Davis? Because she was not properly taught. Even though the damn school is named after her! Madame Stein was screaming by this point, and Nicole was rendered silent. It was enough that an authority figure was screaming at her. But that she was so visibly upset made it worse. All that combined with the fact that Nicole was just now realizing why this school meant so much to the headmistress. Her mouth hung open, but no words came out. Madame Stein stood there, breathing heavily and angrily, her hands in tight fists by her sides. Nicole could only watch as her breathing slowed, and she set her face back into her standard, still slightly annoyed, pinched look. That is why you all must learn. Now, it appears I've been too loose with my techniques, so things are going to become more strict. You all may not agree with my values now, but you will soon enough if you'll all just cooperate. And if you don't, She took a moment to glance over her shoulder at her party, You'll be shot on the spot. None of us is cooperating, Nicole said defiantly, though she could hear the frightened shifting behind her. She ignored it and continued, You can't fulfill your father's plan without our cooperation, sure. But it will be difficult for us to cooperate when we're all dead, don't you think?

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163 And besides that, you can't possibly kill something like a thousand girls without someone finding out about it. There are plenty of girls who would be very willing to have this opportunity, Miss Davis. I'm sure some of them are even cowering behind you right now. And perhaps you haven't noticed, but there is nobody for miles. We could open fire on you right now and nobody would know the difference. Your families think you're all dead already anyway. The crowd behind Nicole gasped and made several outraged outbursts. Nicole felt her own stomach plummet, but she kept quiet. She wasn't even sure if she believed Madame Stein; this could just be trying to incite something in the students. Though if that were the case, Nicole expected it would only work in her favor. Madame Stein continued, with a slight smirk on her face, Oh, didn't anyone tell you? That's why you've never been allowed to leave or make phone calls. We had to keep the illusion, you know. Now, because I'm extremely kind, I'm giving everyone here one last chance. Return to your dormitories immediately and forget about this whole snafu, or we shoot. Nicole's heart raced as she turned to see what the girls would do. None of them had the chance to really show their decision, however, because right in that instant, a deafening noise rang out over the entirety of the campus. Nicole felt certain it had to have been heard even from the nearest town, however far away that might be. She turned back to look, and there was all the smoke and flames that went along with the explosion, right where one of the South dorms had been.

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164 The group as a whole, students as well as the two administrative members and the group of identically dressed men, who Nicole still hadn't quite figured out, stared at the mass of smoke and fire. Nicole didn't have to explain that this was their doing. She hadn't known this would happen, of course, but she knew that this was Drew's doing. This was his plan. Nicole had no idea how he had done it, or why he hadn't told her, but she knew this had to be on purpose. It was then that Nicole felt something squeeze her shoulder. She looked just as Drew stopped beside her, smiling at her mischievously. As Drew stopped, she noticed that someone had stopped with him, just on his other side. It was Melanie, and she was holding what appeared to be some sort of remote control. Madame Stein seemed to notice Melanie and Drew when she finally looked away from the explosion, but it did nothing to alter the unmistakeable look of fury on her face. Won't be much of a school without all the buildings, will it? Drew asked over the excited talking of the crowd behind him. Every time you threaten these students, and Drew, another one goes, Melanie said. Her voice, which was usually light and airy, was filled with an angry determination that Nicole hadn't even thought possible of her. And all this smoke is probably going to attract some attention, so I'd suggest not having a bunch of bodies lying around, Drew added. Nicole wondered if they had rehearsed this at all. It was so perfect. You wouldn't. Those same people will have you arrested for destruction of property, Madame Stein threatened as a piece of hair fell out of her pristine bun and into her face.

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165 Somehow we think they'll side with the minors who were proclaimed dead and then held hostage here, Drew said, having apparently anticipated this potential problem. Well, Madame Stein started, obviously trying to come up with any sort of flaw in his logic, You aren't one of them. You'll still be taken down. He didn't do anything, Melanie gloated, holding up the remote as evidence. Nicole was smiling unstoppably again, but this time out of triumph instead of discomfort. And anyway, I'm pretty sure I am a missing person. They'll be just as glad to have found me as anyone else. Madame Stein took a few steps forward and lowered her voice so only Nicole, Drew, and Melanie could hear her, You children don't understand what you're doing. This is all I have. All the teachers and staff members, you're putting them all out of a job. It's not our fault that you couldn't find a better career than ruining the lives of thousands of young girls. You had your chance at life, and you failed. But that doesn't give you the right to deprive us of the opportunity to make something better of our lives, Nicole told her, her voice as low and threatening as Madame Stein's had been. She looked personally affronted, and Nicole reveled in it. She might have felt bad for her before, but once you've stared at somebody who has taken away your ability to even blink, you tend to always see them with that pain. And what's to stop me from establishing a new school? With less destructive students? Madame Stein asked. Well, you have two options. Option One, you agree not to, and we all get out of here nicely, or Option Two, we blow up some more of these nice buildings which will therein alert

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166 proper authorities and potentially cause a forest fire, which may then kill us all, Nicole said, Now, I like option one, personally, because I get to stay alive and you get to stay out of jail. It's really a win-win. You don't think a bunch of supposedly dead teenagers all returning home at once won't be suspicious? I'll go to jail either way, so here's a third option. I kill anyone who refuses to cooperate, nobody finds out about any of this, and my father gets his dying wish. Madame Stein made a signal to the guards, who all simultaneously readied their weapons for fire. What would happen next Nicole nor any other witness would be able to fully explain, or even comprehend. Madame Reznikov, who had been standing slightly behind Madame Stein the entire time, threw her elbow into the face of the nearest guard, grabbed his gun while he was doubled over, and shot Madame Stein through the head. Nicole wasn't sure, but she thought she might have seen the bullet as it exited Madame Stein's forehead and barely missed the side of her own head. Nicole stared in disbelief at her headmistress. She still stood, for a moment, and she just looked like herself, but with a gaping hole between her eyes. Then the blood started gushing, and she fell to her knees, then face down in the dew-covered grass. As a pool of blood so dark it was almost black formed around her head, Nicole and the others began to accept that what they had just witnessed had indeed happened, and began to turn their attention to Madame Reznikov. Some were frightened, some awed. Nicole couldn't exactly define her emotion, but it was definitely rooted in confusion. The stunned silence prolonged, until finally Madame Reznikov spat in her intimidating

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167 accent, Zat beetch was going to take us all down. The astonishment continued, then transitioned from impressed laughter to full-on applause. Get out of here, all of you, Madame Reznikov shouted over the roar of the crowd. The applause segued easily into loud chatter. Nicole caught snippets of conversations ranging from the happy to the whatever to the bawling mess. Nicole herself turned to Drew, and, like he had to her so many times, pulled him firmly into a hug. How did you even... Nicole began, removing herself from their embrace, but still holding each of his upper arms. She let her question evaporate; she didn't know how to finish it anyway. You should ask Melanie, Drew responded, looking over his shoulder at Nicole's old roommate. Melanie? Nicole asked, a little cautiously because she wasn't sure she would remember her, and because she wasn't sure how the Melanie she once knew could blow up a building. What, did they wipe your memory too? She joked, They tried that on me, but they didn't know that I meticulously record all my dreams and interesting thoughts, so I realized what had happened pretty quickly. But, Nicole stammered, still confused as to how a girl who couldn't even remember the key to her own room had been able to cause an entire building to collapse, But how did you blow up that dorm? Oh, yeah, Melanie giggled, That was a little more difficult than the other buildings.

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168 Other buildings? Nicole asked. She looked from Melanie to Drew and back, That was you? Yeah, I thought you knew that, Melanie said offhandedly, With those I just used your classic gasoline and a match, but I figured once you planned this whole shin-dig, you deserved something a bit flashier. How'd you do it? I can't really talk about it, Melanie said very quickly and seriously, then she continued back in her normal, happy voice, But hey, you did it! She then stepped forward and hugged Nicole so she couldn't ask anything further. Over the school intercom, which was apparently still functional even though it was in the charred office of the headmistress, Madame Reznikov informed the students that officials had been called, and that means of transportation would be provided for everyone within the next day. The girls then went back to their respective dormitories, aside from those whose living quarters had been obliterated. Melanie excused herself to go fetch her stuff, which she had apparently moved into the ceiling tiles of one of the classrooms. She told Nicole it was because she couldn't risk letting anyone know that the memory-altering hadn't worked, but Nicole suspected it was because she had some method of getting into that classroom that didn't put Nicole's belongings in jeopardy. Either way, Nicole was thankful, and gave Melanie an appreciative hug before she skipped off. I'd better go pack my poster, Edyn said with an extremely noticeable wink as she left Nicole and Drew alone together.

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169 Nicole rolled her eyes at Edyn, then gave Drew a please-excuse-my-friend look. Drew laughed and tossed his arm around her as they started toward Nicole's room. Drew sat on what had been Melanie's bed and watched as Nicole spun circles in the center of the room, looking about it and trying to decide where to begin. You know, I never asked you where you're from, Drew stated. Indiana, Nicole told him, finally deciding that pulling out her suitcase would be a good place to start, You? Pennsylvania. Are you ready to go back? Yes and no, He answered simply. How do you mean? Well, I'm definitely over Katie, for one. And I think I owe it to my parents to come home and actually finish high school. Why no then? Nicole asked, looking over at him while she closed the drawer she had just emptied. He was looking down at his hands, facing palms-up in his lap. Nicole dropped the one remaining shirt in her hand into the suitcase and joined Drew on the uncovered mattress. I'm just kind of, He hesitated, then decidedly put his hand on Nicole's knee, then looked her in the eye as he finished, Not ready. Nicole held his gaze a moment, then dropped her eyes with a slight laugh. What? Drew asked, moving his thumb against the fabric of her jeans.

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170 It's just, Nicole began, then bit her lip and continued, You know how I told Stein that you helped me find my purpose or whatever? Yeah. Well, I meant it. Not, like, saving you. But destroying this school, and saving everyone else. Drew smiled and moved his hand from her knee to her hand, which she graciously accepted. Do you remember what I told Stein? The first time? That you were going to kill yourself? Nicole asked. Uh, no, after that. Oh, Nicole said, then, actually remembering it, Oh. She looked up at him, and he was looking back at her. And then he kissed her. Eighteen Nicole eventually finished packing, though the process took longer than it should have, even given that she was an exceptionally slow packer. Drew helped Nicole bring her things to the edge of The Circle, where the girls were getting into groups according to where they lived. The center of The Circle was reportedly going to be used as a helicopter landing pad, so the guards were keeping the girls to the edges and directing them to where their appropriate meeting place might be. Some of the girls who both lived the closest and were either already finished packing or had already been carrying everything they owned that wasn't ash had already left in cars. Nicole

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171 wondered if that group included anyone she had known, and if she would ever see them again. Dropping her stuff off with the other Ohio River Valley folks, Nicole walked around The Circle, only realizing then that she really hadn't known where most of her classmates were from. She found Melanie first, who she knew was from Vermont. There weren't many girls from Vermont, so she had been combined with a few other North Eastern states and even a few Canadian girls. Thank you again, Nicole told Melanie as she hugged her. Thank you, Melanie replied, squeezing her roommate, Hey, write to me. Or you know, internet stuff, I guess. If that's what you're into. Melanie handed Nicole a note card full of information and smiley faces. Nicole smiled at the pink curly writing and hugged her roommate again. I'll send you all my information in my first letter, Nicole promised. Melanie lit up at the word letter, then they said their goodbyes. Drew said goodbye to Melanie too. Nicole could only assume that conspiring to decimate a dormitory was a pretty quick way to bond. Nicole said a few briefer goodbyes as she made her way to the opposite side of the Circle, where Edyn and the other girls from Southern California had convened. My Nic-a! Edyn screamed when she saw Nicole. She then ran at her, full-speed, and leaped into her arms. With her arms wrapped tightly around her neck, Edyn planted an extremely exaggerated kiss on Nicole's cheek. Then she wriggled out of Nicole's arms, hugged her normally, and told her, Bitch, you'd better fucking

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172 call me. Nicole laughed and promised she would. You too, lover boy, Edyn said, pointing at Drew, whose eyes widened in shock and amusement. Nicole and Drew finished their goodbyes to Edyn, which was actually quite the feat considering every time they would begin to walk away, proclaiming For real this time, Edyn would pull them back and hug them again. You two get married, okay? I'm serious! Edyn called after Nicole and Drew once she finally let them walk away. The two laughed, then, for the sake of Edyn and for no other reason whatsoever, Nicole wrapped her arm around Drew's waist and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. Nicole blushed as Edyn made whooping catcalls after them and held up her middle finger at her, which she knew Edyn would take in the best way possible. Nicole had meant to just go back to her belongings, or maybe to find where Drew should be to get a ride home, or maybe somewhere less public to make out with Drew, but she was stopped. Nicole turned at the sound of her name and was surprised to see that it was Annise. Nicole, Annise repeated, though she had Nicole's attention. Nicole wanted to be angry, but Annise sounded as if she were close to tears, I'm really sorry about everything that happened. You know I would never do that to you, it wasn't my choice, I Nicole then staggered slightly as Annise pulled her into a hug, her head hitting uncomfortably against her sternum.

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173 It's, uh, no big deal, Annise, Nicole said, awkwardly patting her back. Don't say that, Annise said, holding her by both shoulders and looking her straight in the eye, It is a big deal. I don't deserve a friend like you. Annise then pulled Nicole back into a hug, pushed her aside, and hugged Drew. Yeah, well, Nicole said when that hug had lasted just a moment too long, Don't be a stranger, okay Annise? Of course, Annise promised solemnly. Then she did that weird European thing where you kiss people on both cheeks to both her and Drew, then waved them goodbye.

The helicopters came and went, taking groups seemingly at random, just whoever seemed to be ready next. Nicole and Drew could only tell their respective groups that they would catch the next one so many times. I'm glad I met you, Drew told Nicole in an embrace. You too, She whispered back. And hey, if we ever see each other again When, She interrupted. When, He repeated. With one final parting kiss, Nicole boarded the helicopter. She watched as Drew became just a part of the scenery, surrounded by buildings, several visibly burnt, even from the helicopter, and one just a large black scuff. When the clearing that constituted Madame Poussin's Academy for Girls was finally out

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174 of view, Nicole leaned her head back against the seat and stared instead at the sky around her, feeling as if she were finally able to see the blue.

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