HARTWELL

The Name

Chapter 4

I stood outside for a long time after that.

Long enough for the bell to go. Long enough for the corridor behind the door to fill up with noise and footsteps and then go quiet again. Long enough for my next lesson to technically start without me.

I kept staring at the name on my screen.

It wasn't someone I knew well. I'd been here a day and a half so I didn't know anyone well. But I knew the name. I'd heard it at breakfast, heard it in the corridor, heard it the way you hear names that belong to people who matter in a place before you understand why they matter.

The name was Fiona.

I walked into my next lesson eight minutes late.

Mrs Bernice looked at me over her glasses when I came in. She didn't say anything. Just looked. The kind of look that files your face away for future reference.

"Sit," she said.

I sat.

Liam was two seats away. He caught my eye and mouthed where were you.

I shook my head.

He mouthed what happened.

I shook my head again harder.

He mouthed something else that I think was tell me later and turned back to the front.

I put my bag down and tried to focus on whatever Mrs Bernice was saying about whatever subject this was and absolutely could not do it.

Fiona.

Fiona who had gone quiet when I asked if she knew who was in the photo. Fiona who had said no too fast. Fiona who had put her coffee cup down too hard when Yasmin said she knew.

Fiona who was my roommate.

Who I had to go back to Room 14 with tonight.

Who was sitting in some class right now not knowing that her name was in a group chat being read by every single student in this school.

Does she know, I thought. Does she know they know.

I found Yasmin at lunch.

She was already in the queue, tray in hand, looking completely unbothered in the way that I was starting to realise was Yasmin's default setting regardless of what was actually happening underneath.

I got in line behind her.

"You saw," she said without turning around.

"Why didn't you just tell me it was her."

"Because I wasn't sure this morning. I'm sure now." She moved forward with the queue. "Someone who was in the bathroom confirmed it."

"Who's the other person."

Yasmin was quiet for a moment.

"That's the part that's complicated," she said.

"How complicated."

She picked up a bowl of pasta and put it on her tray. "Charlotte complicated."

I stopped moving.

The person behind me walked into my back and made an annoyed noise.

"Sorry," I said automatically. I moved forward. "What do you mean Charlotte complicated."

"I mean the other person in that photo," Yasmin said quietly, "is someone Charlotte is very publicly and very dramatically in love with."

My brain did the maths slowly.

Then all at once.

"No," I said.

"Yes."

"Ethan."

Yasmin finally turned and looked at me. Her face was very careful. "I'm not saying that."

"You just said Charlotte complicated."

"I said the other person is someone Charlotte is very publicly in love with. There are other boys in this school Emily."

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

"Is it Ethan," I said.

She picked up a bread roll and put it on her tray and walked away from the queue.

Which was basically a yes.

I couldn't eat.

I sat at the table with my tray in front of me and moved pasta around and tried to look like someone who was fine.

Liam sat down across from me and took one look at my face.

"What happened," he said.

"Nothing."

"You look like you swallowed something bad."

"I'm fine."

"Emily."

I looked up. Liam had this way of saying my name that was different from how other people said it. Less like a word and more like a question. Like he was asking are you actually going to tell me the truth or are we doing the thing where you say fine seventeen times.

I put my fork down.

"The photo in the group chat," I said quietly. "It's Fiona."

Liam's face did something complicated. "How sure are we."

"Yasmin sure."

"That's very sure." He sat back. "And the other person."

"Allegedly Ethan."

Liam looked at me for a beat too long.

"Don't," I said.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were about to say something."

"I was about to say that's a lot to find out on day two," he said. "That's all I was going to say."

I looked at him.

He looked back at me with his most innocent face which wasn't very innocent.

"Liam."

"I'm just saying you asked about him yesterday."

"I asked who he was."

"Right."

"That's not the same as—" I stopped. Picked up my fork. Put it down again. "It doesn't matter. None of this is my business. I've been here five minutes."

"Day and a half," Liam said.

"Same thing."

He stole a piece of my bread. "So what are you going to do about Fiona."

"What do you mean what am I going to do. Nothing. It's not my business."

"She's your roommate."

"I know she's my roommate."

"So when she finds out tonight that the whole school knows—"

"Liam."

"I'm just saying you're going to be in that room when it happens."

I stared at my pasta.

He was right. I was going to be in that room. In that small room with those thin walls when Fiona found out that everyone knew. And I'd known before she did. And I'd said nothing.

Great, I thought. This is great.

I saw Fiona once between afternoon lessons.

She was walking with two girls I didn't know yet, laughing at something on someone's phone, hair bouncing, completely normal, completely unbothered.

She hadn't seen the messages yet.

Or she had and she was doing what Fiona apparently did which was be loud and fine on the outside regardless of what was happening inside.

I almost called her name.

I didn't.

What was I supposed to say. Hey I know something horrible is coming for you and I don't know how to stop it and I've known you for thirty six hours so I don't know if I'm even allowed to be the person who tells you.

I kept walking.

Charlotte found me after last lesson.

Not accidentally. She had clearly been waiting. She was standing by the door of my last class when I came out and she fell into step beside me like we did this every day.

"Emily," she said pleasantly.

"Charlotte."

"How are you finding Hartwell."

"Fine."

"Good." She smiled. "Making friends."

"Trying to."

"Good." She paused just long enough to be deliberate. "Stay away from Fiona."

I kept walking. "Sorry."

"I'm not asking. I'm letting you know." Still pleasant. Still smiling. "Fiona has a habit of pulling people into her mess. You're new. You seem smart. I'm just letting you know."

"I appreciate that," I said.

"Good." She peeled off at the next corridor. "Have a good evening."

She was gone.

I stood there for a second.

Then I walked faster.

Room 14 that night was quiet in the specific way that rooms get quiet when something is wrong.

Eleanor was at her desk doing homework. Fiona was on her bed on her phone. I came in, put my bag down, sat on my bed.

Nobody said anything for a while.

Then Fiona's phone buzzed.

Then buzzed again.

Then three times quickly.

I watched her face without watching her face. I looked at my own phone, kept it in my lap, kept my eyes mostly down.

Fiona went very still.

Eleanor's pen stopped moving.

The room held its breath.

Fiona put her phone down on the bed slowly. Screen down. She sat there for a moment with her hands flat on her knees. Her jaw was doing something tight and controlled.

Then she stood up.

"I'll be back," she said. Completely normal voice. Like nothing.

She walked out.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Eleanor and I sat in the silence she left.

After a moment Eleanor turned around in her chair.

"She knew this morning," Eleanor said quietly. "She knew before the group chat. Someone told her last night."

"Why didn't she say anything."

"Because that's Fiona." Eleanor turned back to her desk. "She'll handle it her way."

"What's her way."

Eleanor picked up her pen.

"You'll see," she said.

My phone buzzed.

Group chat.

I looked at it.

Someone had tagged Fiona directly in the chat. With a comment that made my stomach turn.

Thirty seconds later a new message appeared.

From Fiona.

Seven words.

Come say it to my face then.