Silverside Academy

Ticking Bomb

All the years between her father’s death and yesterday came crashing down on Eilidh. If he had been honest, he could have prepared her for this.

Her eyes rested on the pamphlet that sat on her desk. Its glossy finish gleamed in the sunlight that poured in from her window. Silverside Academy High.

A picture of the grounds and school served as a backdrop to the font that promised something sophisticated and lasting.

She read the words again.

Honor, glory, and connection are our recipe for success. Come and join us for a dynamic education at our exclusive institution.

Eilidh scoffed, unable to take the damn thing seriously anymore.

Silverside Academy was the most prestigious private school in the state.

Not just anyone could go. There were strict requirements for grades and notoriety. It was common knowledge that to get in, you had to be someone or know someone. Being rich didn’t hurt.

She hadn’t fit into any of those categories - at least, not that she knew of.

Not until the letter had come in the mail.

Its arrival had been the rotten cherry to the burnt cake of a week she’d had.

Her last week of middle school had been terrible.

She had spent years switching schools and moving around. But she had hoped they might actually stick around here a little longer. Long enough for her to finally make some real friends.

The thought of going to high school with them had warmed her spirit.

It was about more than just connections, though. If they stayed, she’d be able to start high school without being the new kid. The outcast.

Unfortunately, those friendships had fallen through that last Monday of school.

A minor misunderstanding - one that should have been easily avoided - had caused a rift between her and the girl she thought might become her best friend.

Maybe it’s for the best. New year, new school, new me. Nothing new, really.

She pushed away the hurt, betrayed look on Alison’s lovely face, but the annoyance lapped at her all the same.

How’s it my fault that Matt didn’t like her? Or that he liked me instead?

Her face flushed as she recalled the way Matt’s expression had taken on a simmering quality when she asked him if he liked anyone. He’d looked over his glasses and smirked in a way that didn’t quite understand.

She wasn’t like other girls her age. Or rather, she didn’t look like other girls her age. She wasn’t cute or youthful. She didn’t look like she was about to start high school. She looked more like she should be on her way to college.

Eilidh had gotten her curves early. Her shapely, hourglass figure drew a lot of attention from older guys, but kept most of the boys her age at arm’s length.

So the fact that he was looking at her like that didn’t make sense at all.

“Yeah,” he had breathed. “I like you.”

Too shocked and mortified to reply, she had simply stood there, staring.

No, stupid. You’re not supposed to say me! You’re supposed to say - “Alison!” She finished her thought aloud. Her friend had walked up just in time to witness the entire ordeal.

“Eilidh, I can’t believe you!” Alison’s face had twisted with anger, and tears sprung to her eyes. She stomped her foot before turning away and heading straight for the girls’ bathroom.

What did I do? She wondered. You were too embarrassed to ask him yourself! It’s not my fault!

Regardless, the rest of that week passed by painfully slowly.

Without a best friend, and with plenty of rumors adding to the typical end-of-year drama, Eilidh felt like her patience was being tested on a daily basis.

If I thought starting high school as the new kid was bad, it’s nothing to the idea of starting high school as the boy-stealing backstabber.

Then Friday, yesterday, came along and changed her whole world.

Feeling more frustrated than ever, Eilidh rubbed her eyes.

She wanted to be free of that memory, as well. “Why am I torturing myself?” The words echoed in her nearly-empty room.

The invitation from Silverside had blindsided her. She made good grades, sure, but she was hardly a top-performing student. A’s were one thing, but she skipped out on the whole gifted education and volunteer side of things.

I thought it was a mistake until Mom came home.

Janet had come through the door, kicking her shoes off in the casual, fluid motion she usually did. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Eilidh reading over one of the many packets Silverside had sent out.

“What’s that?” Her voice was hard, cold, and so unlike her that Eilidh jumped.

Guilt slid into the pit of her stomach, even though she knew she’d done nothing wrong. It had been addressed to her, after all.

“Give it here.” Janet held her hand out, fingers splayed and rigid.

Trepidation began to build in Eilidh as she scrambled to put the contents back in the envelope. She passed it to her mother.

Janet pulled the first pamphlet out. Her eyes skimmed through the pages, her face growing paler and paler until she looked as white as a ghost.

When she turned to the last page, however, Eilidh saw the livid finality settle over her.

Her lips pursed into thin white lines, but her face shifted from white to red faster than a traffic light.

“Mom, are you okay?” Her voice seemed to echo across the living room.

Eilidh’s heart beat a wild gallop as she tried to understand why something as simple as a school packet would send her mother over the edge. It’s not like they hadn’t filled out several before.

Janet didn’t quite meet her eyes. Instead, she nodded curtly and said, “Let me go call this Principal Bosch. I’ll be out in a few.”

She’d straightened all the papers and pamphlets and made her way into the room.

The door slammed closed with a brisk snap, leaving Eilidh anxious and alone.

What had followed had been a nightmare.

It was the singular most painful thing she’d ever experienced, except for the loss of her father. Although, in a lot of ways, it felt like losing him all over again.

Janet stayed in her room for hours. Even after Eilidh heard her end the phone call.

Minutes ticked by like a bomb, and she waited for the explosion.

The small dinner she’d made when she got home sat on the table, untouched and cold.

On any normal day, they would have enjoyed the meal together. Then, if her mom felt up to it, Eilidh would have asked to go on her delivery job with her.

We should be watching a movie right now. She thought as the sun disappeared into the horizon. Popcorn and ice cream - that’s what our night should be. Not… She struggled for the words. How could she voice what she didn’t know? Not whatever this is.

Ever so often, she would hear a loud thud and the unmistakable sound of papers shuffling. It almost sounded like Janet was packing.

What the heck is going on?

As ridiculous as it should have been, she kept imagining wild scenarios. Were they on the run? Did her mom know something about SIlverside that she didn’t? And even then… how could she?

Mom’s probably just tired. She tried to reason the unreasonable.

True, Janet worked a lot.

She spent her days as a manager at an upscale cosmetics store, and her nights as a delivery gigger. So it wasn’t uncommon for her to forget things or even nap out from time to time. Usually that happened when they were watching their movies and shows.

One minute, her mother would be laughing. The next, she would be snoring.

I wish she would tell me why she’s so upset.

Even now, a part of her still wished she’d never found out the truth.

Eilidh didn’t know she’d fallen asleep until her mother shook her awake.

Janet didn’t look frantic, instead, it looked like she had been frantic. Her hair was wild, though she’d tried and failed to tame it with a ponytail. Little bits of dust and cobwebs were smattered across her now-wrinkled clothes.

Fearful, she stared up at her mother’s teary eyes and blotchy face. The usually gorgeous lady she’d known all her life was gone. In her wake was this nervous wreck of a woman. One she didn’t quite recognize.

The smell of alcohol was alarming and unwelcomed in equal measures.

She only had the vaguest of memories of her mother’s brief but severe battle with alcoholism. A symptom of grief she’d had to fight to let go of.

If she’s been drinking, then this must be bad.

With a shuddering breath, she managed to ask, “What’s wrong?” Eilidh’s words were sluggish, even though her mind was racing.