Hateful by Eden Beck

Chapter Twenty-Four

Too many facespeer back at me from the crowd as Dean Withers’ grip tightens on my shoulder.

“Just Alex,” I hiss, at him, but no one pays attention. Confused conversation breaks out all around me, between both students and staff alike. The dean holds up his hands and starts shouting for quiet, but he’s ignored, too.

I scan the crowd, my eyes darting from face to face, looking for someone familiar until I find Rafael and Neville standing together. Rafael’s face is pale, his eyes wide and searching as he surely starts trying to figure out how this is going to affect him too. Beside him, Neville’s mouth is agape as he stares directly at me.

Honestly, at this point it’s his own fault if he’s surprised. Rafael’s dropped enough hints while he’s around that he should have figured it out on his own long before now.

I bite my lip and force myself to look over at Beck and Jasper.

Jasper looks calm. He takes a second too long to rearrange his expression into one of surprise while Beck, on the other hand, looks like his eyes may start popping out of his head at any minute.

“Now, our Alexis here—”

“Alex!” I hiss again, my attention snapping back to the dean. Once again, I’m just ignored.

“—has just been through quite the ordeal, so let’s give her some room to breathe, hm?” He looks down at me. His forced smile has frozen onto his face, and when he speaks to me now, it’s through gritted teeth. “Go get yourself cleaned up. And then come right back here.”

I nod, feeling numb; the dean lifts his hand off my shoulder. I see Rafael pushing his way through the crowd to get to me, and I rush to him gratefully.

“Let’s go,” Rafael mutters under his breath as he grabs me by the elbow. “Cat’s out of the bag now, huh? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, but as I glance over my shoulder and meet Headmistress Robin’s smiling gaze, I think I have a good guess.

* * *

I knowit’s not my blood, but the sight of it washing down the shower drain doesn’t leave me any less unnerved. I scrub myself clean as well as I can—maybe too well. By the time I step out of the shower my skin is stinging.

Even then, I move slowly, like I’m trapped in slowly solidifying amber. I am a creature that no longer belong here. That never belonged here.

And now everyone knows.

Maybe if I go slowly I can avoid the crowd of angry parents down by the entrance.

My head is spinning, my heart still beating as if the wolves in the forest never stopped attacking us. Everything that’s happened since Heath and I arrived back on the doorstep to the school doesn’t feel like it was real. Not at all.

I’ve gone from thinking I’ve been found out, to believing I was safe, to suddenly … suddenly … what?

To suddenly being betrayed. And by none other than the woman who swore to protect me.

Once again, that pit settles like lead in my stomach. I knew when I gave Headmistress Robin that folder, that something didn’t feel right.

I just didn’t imagine it was because of this. Because she was going to use it against me.

Just like everyone else since I’ve arrived here at Bleakwood, she somehow found a way to use me against myself.

The sight of my fogged-up body in the mirror makes me pause on my way to getting dressed. The steam has made my figure little more than an hourglass shaped blob contrasting against the dark color of the bathroom walls.

Maybe it was always destined to be this way.

Even when I can’t make out the exact shape of each curve of my body, it’s pretty clear my little charade wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. Not when everything I’ve tried—starving myself, excessive exercise, chest binding, and sheer power of will—has been unable to stop the inevitable from arriving.

Because I am unmistakably a girl.

I stop for one second, closing my eyes and leaning forward to rest my forehead against the mirror. I focus on the coldness of the glass. On the heat of the steam. The feel of wet tile beneath my bare feet.

And yet, as much as I try to ground myself, I still feel as if my whole world is spinning—as if, at any second, I am going to collapse into a bottomless pit from which I’ll never be able to pull myself out of.

She promised. She promised.

Headmistress Robin. I did all that shit for her so she wouldn’t reveal my identity, so why would she lie to me? What does she have to gain? Is she making me the first step toward blending the two schools, or is this all something else?

It’s always something else.

I should have learned that with Jasper, Heath, and Beck. Nothing here is ever as it seems.

Everything here is always about selfish, personal gain.

As much as I want to, I know I can’t stand here like this forever. I have no choice but to face my fate … even if part of me wants to just climb out the window and sneak away, never to be heard from again.

I’d just become the shadow, the memory, the faintest ghost of the girl who snuck into Bleakwood.

But that part of me isn’t the part that wins out.

I wrap the towel around my chest and step out into my dorm room. Rafael sits cross-legged on the bed with a grim expression as I pass him and go to my dresser. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes.

I know I’m not the only one who’s going to face the repercussions of what I’ve done.

“Well, I guess it’s fine that your butt never shrank,” Rafael sighs after a moment, looking down at his phone.

I purse my lips without answering.

I manage to find some jeans that aren’t so baggy that they make me look like a lump of fabric and a T-shirt that doesn’t swallow me whole. I only brought sports bras, but with a T-shirt that fits, you can still see that my breasts at least exist.

And just like that, suddenly it’s clear that Alex the boy was never a boy at all.

Just like that, the idea that I was ever able to pass—let alone for as long as I did—is absolutely ridiculous.

I run my fingers through my still-wet hair. My stomach clenches in panic. I’m so used to disguising myself that the thought of going out there as a version close to who I actually am almost gives me a panic attack.

The edges of my vision begin to blur, even as the center comes into such sharp focus that it hurts to look at anything directly. My breaths grow shorter. My heart, already racing, somehow runs a beat faster.

I clench down on the edge of my dresser so hard that I can imagine the wood splintering beneath my grasp.

“Will you come with me?” I ask Rafael breathlessly, still unable to look at him.

“Of course I will,” he replies flatly.

I finally glance over at him, meeting his gaze for just a moment. There’s none of the hatred there that I deserve. None of the regret I expected to see.

Instead, Rafael just looks … resigned. Like he knew this was coming, maybe even before I did. Not this instance in particular, just … just that he knew our little game wasn’t really going to hold out for long.

“Really,” Rafael adds, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and taking a deep breath of his own, “Did you think I was just going to sit here and let you go alone? Are you stupid?”

Yes,I think, but I don’t actually say that. I slip my feet into my shoes and check myself in the mirror again. God, I look like a girl. A very tomboy-ish girl, but a girl nonetheless.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Brush your hair.”

I do as Rafael says. Now I look even more like a girl.

“Now you’re ready.” He slides off the bed and gives me a once over.

I grab an oversized hoodie and tie it around my waist before we go. Rafael gives me a disapproving look, but I don’t care. Something about the judgmental look in Rafael’s eye at my choice of clothing at a time like this is somehow … reassuring. At least he’s acting normal.

That makes one person in this whole godforsaken establishment.

We walk together back to the entranceway. The dean and Headmistress Robin are still there, as well as a handful of students. I’m surprised there aren’t more, if I’m being honest. I’d expected an entire crowd to form.

Come see the newest fuck-up by Alex Trevellian—this one by far her worst yet.

Most of the parents are still here, seemingly arguing with the dean who is wringing his hands and doing his best to keep the peace. Not very successfully, I might add.

I just do my best not to hear what it is they’re arguing about. I don’t need to.

I already know what it is.

“Come on,” Rafael says, gently prodding me ahead of him. I must be looking like I’m ready to bolt, because for just one second he slips his hand into mine and gives it a good squeeze. That single, simple gesture is the thing I need to push me forward into the crowd—and not bolting straight away in the opposite direction.

Jasper and Beck are among the crowd as we approach. Beck stares unabashedly, his mouth hanging open while Jasper’s gaze roams from my face to my toes and back up. The other students notice them and turn and follow their gaze, prompting heads to begin turning all around. They all want to see what The Brotherhood is gawking at.

The dean notices the abrupt shift in attention. I freeze awkwardly in the hallway, my skin crawling from the weight of the sheer number of eyes on me.

“Here she is,” the dean says, gesturing. “Now, I think it’s about time we move along. I think we’re making her nervous!”

He’s the one who laughs nervously at that. He laughs alone.

A few more faculty have joined with the dean—two professors, one of which I actually have a class with. The rest look like they’ve been trying to force the rest of the students back to the dorms … or somewhere. Just away from here.

The last two professors here in the entrance hall start trying to usher the parents out, even though they do not look happy about it. I hear a lot of whispered promises, hushed tones, and hissed remarks, all of which are punctuated by hasty, angry glances over in my direction.

Is it really that big of a deal that a girl is here at Bleakwood?

And even more important, possibly, is how did they all even find out so quickly? Did Headmistress Robin really call them all here just to humiliate me?

As if the entire student body finding out wasn’t going to be enough.

As soon as the parents walk past him, the dean’s face falls into a stony expression and he beckons for me to come over to him. I nervously oblige. Beside him, Headmistress Robin stands with her arms folded over her chest. Her lips tug up at the corners in a smug little smile.

For a moment, I imagine how it would feel to slap that smile off her face. Even in my head, however, it doesn’t solve the glaring problem in front of me.

“Follow me,” the dean says as I approach. He shoots a warning glance at Rafael when he starts to follow. “Just her.”

My stomach drops. I look over my shoulder pleadingly at Rafael, wishing he would disobey; but he just shakes his head minutely at me. No more help from Rafael today.

At least maybe this means whatever happens to me, he might actually be safe. The thought’s a small comfort.

I follow Dean Withers and the headmistress down the hall toward the dean’s office, my heart thumping the entire time. I keep imagining different punishments awaiting me. Expulsion is the most likely, but he’s going to have to do it in such a way as to make it seem like it isn’t just because I’m a girl.

Or maybe that’s all it is. Maybe he just didn’t want to do it in front of everyone—for my sake.

The dean stops outside his office door and pushes it open before standing to the side and beckoning us in.

“Ladies first,” he says flatly.

The headmistress grins and saunters in with her hips swaying. I scurry in after her, doing my best not to look over at the student records room, as if one glance will somehow reveal the fact that I’ve been inside it.

The dean comes in last and pulls the door closed.

No one speaks as he walks the short distance to his desk, but I’m sure we’re all experiencing different kinds of silence. The dean’s silence seems to be tense and angry, judging by his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Headmistress Robin’s silence is probably exactly like her, relaxed and smug. She’s gotten what she wanted. The folder and my secret.

Meanwhile, I, having just been exposed as a girl in front of possibly the whole school, am in a silence so full of dread and terror that I’m surprised I haven’t passed out on the spot.

The distance from the door to the dean’s desk isn’t very long, but it seems to take years for him to cross it. There are two chairs across from his. Neither the headmistress nor I move to sit in them. Instead, we stand further back, me hovering awkwardly near a trophy case, her standing a little closer to the desk.

The dean sits down and leans on his desk. He works his jaw as a vein appears on his temple.

“Alexis,” he says.

“Just Alex,” I repeat, resignedly this time.

He nods. “Whatever it is … it has been brought to my attention that you were accepted into this school on false pretenses. That you are, in fact, a girl, and have been lying to everyone for almost a full academic year.”

Hearing him say it seems a tad redundant.

I glance between him and the headmistress.

“I didn’t know it was an all-boys’ school when I applied,” I say quickly, my words tumbling out of my mouth. “And by the time I figured it out—”

The dean holds up his hand and I clamp my mouth shut.

“However you got here,” he says, “you’re here now, and we’ll have to deal with this.”

He shoots a glance at Headmistress Robin, and for one brief second, I swear I see a hatred so intense, I would not want to be on the receiving end of it.

“Some things have come to light, and it turns out that Bleakwood is being investigated. Ordinarily, I would’ve had you expelled,” he adds, cutting his eyes back to me, and for one second I am on the receiving end of his wrath. I swallow down the lump in my throat. “But since there are certain … accusations … levied at us as an institution, I think it’ll look good to keep you here. Our first female student. Accepted fully on merit, also. That ought to look nice for the investigative board.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in.

“So … I’m going to be like a mascot,” I snap, feeling my face heat up. I should have guessed. Just another opportunity for someone here to use me for their own gain.

“You’re like a studentwho isn’t getting expelled,” the dean growls, and I look down. He’s right. I should at least be thankful I’m not getting kicked out.

The headmistress clears her throat, and the dean clenches his jaw. “That being said,” he sighs, “the press will be here any minute. They are going to want to interview you.”

“Me?” I squeak out.

My head has started to spin again.

“You are not to mention that you were disguised,” the dean snaps. “You will say that you were the best candidate, that the school knew you were a girl, and accepted you as our first female student.”

I nod. I don’t like lying, but what can I do? I want to stay at this damn school.

This is what I wanted, isn’t it?

“And keep details about other students to yourself,” he continues. “I’ll try not to let them get you on your own, but if they do separate you, just keep that in mind.”

“Sure,” I reply, my voice squeaking out.

There’s a knock at the office door, and the dean sighs. “Yes?”

One of my professors opens the door and leans in. “Reporters are here.”

“We’ll be right out.”

The professor nods and leaves, pulling the door shut behind him. The dean sighs again as he gets up from his chair.

“Naturally I should come, too,” the headmistress says warmly. She phrases it like a question, but it definitely doesn’t sound like one.

The dean grits his teeth. “Yes. Of course you should. Naturally.” He looks to me. “How’s your German?”

“Um—broken?”

“Fine. I’ll translate for you. Americans,” he adds under his breath as he reaches his door.

The hallway outside the office is still and quiet, which I don’t take enough refuge in. By the time we get out to the entranceway, all my senses are suddenly and overwhelmingly assaulted.

A gaggle of people holding microphones and cameras crowd the entrance, shuffling through the big double doors with mouths gaping open like tourists before they catch sight of us and rush over in one big surge. They’re all talking at once, some in German, some in French, some in English.

Even if I could speak those other languages, I wouldn’t be able to understand them. I can’t even understand the English, they’re all talking over each other so loudly.

The dean shouts for order, but no one hears him above the cacophony. Headmistress Robin, on the other hand, gently raises both her hands and the reporters slowly fall silent.

“One at a time, please,” she says with a warm smile.

This just makes Dean Withers’ smile darken even further.

Someone speaks very rapidly in French, and the headmistress laughs softly before responding in the same language. “He wanted to know if I’m your mother,” she tells me with an amused smile.

I fight down the anger that flares up in my stomach. Just the idea is sickening.

A real mother would never betray her daughter.

I don’t know how long we stand there in the entranceway fielding questions, but I know it’s long enough for my legs and feet to start aching. I answer any questions directed at me as simply and as vaguely as possible.

Yes, I’m a girl.

Yes, I like Bleakwood.

Yes, the staff and students have welcomed me with open arms.

I lose track of how many times I answer the same questions. I lose track of how many times I have to lie.

Eventually, even the dean has had enough of his own plan. The reporters are waved away, their final questions shouted over the arms of the security that had to step in to force them out in the first place.

In the moments that follow, the silence feels especially hollow.

The headmistress stands next to me with a self-satisfied smile on her face. She’s seemed incredibly pleased with herself this whole time. I look over at her, and she meets my gaze, her smile widening.

The dean comes back from pushing the reporters out the door. “That’s that, then,” he says with a sigh.

“I was hoping to speak to Alex alone,” the headmistress says quietly. She reaches out and sets a hand on my shoulder. I recoil from her touch, but her hand clamps down to keep me from pulling away.

The dean’s eyes travel over me and her. “Sure. I’ll be in my office cleaning up this mess if either of you need me.”

I hear the unspoken words. But don’t need me.

Headmistress Robin nods and I stand here, my shoulder aching under the pressure of her squeezing fingers, watching him walk away and leave me here alone with her. She turns to me with that hateful grin of hers.

“Let’s go in here, shall we?”

“In—” Before I can get the question out, she steers me toward the nearest classroom.

I stand awkwardly near the door while she walks inside and grabs a chair. I don’t sit. I hover, watching her as she sits and crosses her legs.

“Well,” she says, sighing happily. “Things are going well.”

I have no patience left in me for small talk.

“Why?” I burst out, my voice tearing my throat on its way out. “How could you? I did everything you wanted, everything you asked!” My anger and rage start to bubble in my stomach and up through my chest. “You ratted me out!”

“Not just you,” she clarifies with a smile.

I freeze. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Such language.” She smooths her pencil skirt over her knees. “The entire school is under investigation, and it’s all thanks to you.”

My heart skips a beat, falters. “What do you mean?”

“Everything you told me about the bullying? I used it. Those records you gave me? I used it. That’s going to be fun for me to work with.”

“But what about integrating?” I ask her. “That’s what you told me this was all about.”

She laughs loudly, throwing her head back. It’s almost a belly laugh, probably as close to it as she’s capable of getting.

“Integrating?” she says with a snort. “I don’t want my students anywhere near this filthy school. It was never my intention to let my girls come to Bleakwood.”

My stomach drops. “Then … why?”

She grins up at me from her chair. “Oh, Alex. I want this place destroyed.” She grins even wider at my face as it drains of color. “And I’m very nearly ready to do that. And,” she adds, her voice lowering, “it’s all thanks to you. Good work. Excellent, if I may say so myself. So sad you didn’t join my own school, but it’s worked to my advantage, anyway.”

I stumble backward against the closed door behind me. I thought I was protecting myself. I thought that I was doing something good, even. And now I may get this place destroyed.

And me along with it.

I knew giving her that folder was a mistake. I just didn’t realize how big of a mistake.

I glance back once through the glass and into the hallway behind me, looking for a moment to make sure there’s no one outside to overhear.

No one can ever find out about this. Girl or not, The Brotherhood will kill me.

“But … why did you tell the dean about me, then?” I ask, reaching into the depths of my brain to find words.

She frowns. “That one I miscalculated. I didn’t think he’d be able to spin it into good publicity for the school.” Her lips draw into a thin line for a minute. “Leave it to Withers.”

I shuffle my feet. “Well, at least I’m not expelled.” But the school may collapse around you, I remind myself.

Headmistress Robin grins and gets to her feet. “And you don’t have to hide anymore. There’s a silver lining for you.”

Silver lining my ass.

“What’s the point in even being here if this place gets shut down?” I snap, at long last. “Bleakwood’s reputation will be ruined if you have your way … and my chances at a good college, a good future, will be ruined with it.”

The headmistress makes a mocking, pouting expression. “Unfortunately, we all have to make sacrifices for the greater good, Alex.”

The sound of her phone vibrating in her pocket draws her attention away from me.

“Ah,” she says, suddenly standing after she sees what’s on the screen. “This is very important, so I’ll have to leave you. Seems everything is falling into place.”

The return of her unfeeling smile chills me to the core.

I have no choice but to step aside as she sweeps past me, leaving me—as so often seems to happen—alone and hyperventilating in this old, abandoned classroom.