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The next morning, classes and the concert are cancelled. For a moment, I panic, thinking it’s because the staff know that someone’s targeting the performers, but then the rumours start circulating that the two girls had pushed themselves to the breaking point. For mental health reasons, the Headmistress pulled the plug on the whole show for fear that the other students were behaving similarly.
Apparently, Lexxi was taken to hospital with two broken legs and a concussion. They think she hit her head pretty hard because when the paramedics arrived to take her away, she was screaming that Lizzie’s ghost had pushed her down the stairs. It got so bad they had to sedate her to get her in the ambulance.
The cancellation of classes meant that term was officially ending a day early, freeing up time for students to pack. Most of their parents had been planning on coming later for the show anyway, so it didn’t make much of a difference.
I wasn’t really going to bother packing as I’d be staying on campus just down at the guys’ house. I figured I could grab a few essentials to see me through a couple of days, and could then head back and change things up. In a bag, I sling my makeup and toiletries, my work out gear and bikini, PJs and a couple of changes of clothes. All done, I set my bag by the door for later and take some time to work on Lizzie’s journal again.
I’ve completely ground to a halt with it so far. I’d run out of religious words to use to try and break each code, and so far, Google wasn’t helping either. Skimming the pages of what was left to decode showed me that Lizzie had switched to using only five-letter words. I had a feeling I might know why, and I was eager to test my theory out.
I quickly grab my notebook and a pen, sitting cross legged on the bed. I scribble down my list of names: Jaxon, Rebel, Thorn, Alajž. I pause for a moment and then impulsively add Tilly, Amber, Belle, Lexxi. Natalia’s name just doesn’t fit, but I wonder if maybe she had a nickname or an abbreviation or something. For the time being, it didn’t matter, I had plenty to keep me busy.
I decide to just take the list in order and start working my way through. Using Jaxon‘s name as my cypher key, I decode the first few words. To begin with, it’s always tricky and a painstaking process for me as I translate each individual letter slowly, but once I’ve cracked it, and I’ve translated the first few sentences, I can almost fluently read it without any need to write the translation down. Thank god! I love my sister, but not enough to manually transcribe a year’s worth of work! I’m kidding, of course, but I’m glad that I don’t have to do that. I look down at the page in front of me and see total nonsense. Jaxon’s not the key. I repeat for Rebel, and the same thing happens.
Okay, time to regroup. ‘Think Raven,’ I tell myself. Your sister was smart, organised, methodical. What would she do? When the answer comes to me a moment later, I want to facepalm myself for my own stupidity. Of course, Lizzie would list the names alphabetically! I quickly scribble down: Alajž, Amber, Belle, Jaxon, Lexxi, (Natalia), Rebel, Thorn and Tilly. I’ll try Alajž first, but for the code to work, I’ll have to swap the Ž in his name for a regular Z I think.
I start to slowly translate letter by letter the opening of Lizzie’s next journal entry. I work quietly for a few minutes, completely absorbed in what I’m reading as my right hand scribbles down each letter. I stop, drop my pen and flex my fingers, before picking up my notebook to see what I’ve written; if the code’s worked there’ll be a few sentences of text for me to read. If it hasn’t, there’ll be total nonsense that makes less sense than her encoded journal entry!
I look down at the paper and smile. Cracked it! Finally, after weeks of stagnation, I was moving somewhere with it again.
Hey Charlotte, if you’re reading this, you’ve come so far and worked so hard. Thank you for not giving up on me. I guess, if you cracked this code, you know my secret. I’ve been dying to share it with you...
Holy fucking shit balls! It worked. But that’s not what has me excited. Well, it does, but it’s not the most exciting thing. I’m excited because Lizzie’s writing to me and she mentioned her secret. I feel like I’m finally about to get answers, and as I’m about to move in with the princes for a fortnight, the timing couldn’t be more perfect. I quickly scribble down a couple more sentences until the cipher key’s embedded in my mind. I sort of visualise it in my mind so that when I look at the journal, it kind of automatically translates itself before my eyes. It’s like the letters come alive on the page and scramble to rearrange themselves so that I can read them clearly. I can’t explain it well, but Lizzie always said it was a mild form of photographic memory. I argued it was just a learnable skill and proceeded to teach her how to do it too.
Once I’m able to hold the cipher key firmly in my mind, I sit down to read, all thoughts of going to join the guys forgotten.
Lizzie’s Journal
24th Feb
Hey Charlotte, if you’re reading this, you’ve come so far and worked so hard. Thank you for not giving up on me. I guess, if you cracked this code, you know my secret. I’ve been dying to share it with you...
I’m not sure how it happened exactly, but I seem to have got myself a boyfriend. Well, four actually. And they’re all a secret. I know that sounds crazy, but I promise I haven’t lost the plot! I’ll try to explain it to you, so sit back and grab some popcorn and I’ll share my story with you, though you mustn’t blame me if it takes several entries to get it all out!
First though, can I just say I’m sorry I was so awful throughout the whole holiday period? Looking back now, I can see that I was really not myself, and maybe I was even a touch depressed. I spent the whole holiday stressing about going back to school - which really has been hell, no matter how much I try to kid myself it’s not too bad - so much so, that I failed to relax and enjoy my time away from it all. I should’ve made more effort with you. I left you feeling like I didn’t care, when in truth, I was so homesick I didn’t want to leave you again.
So back to my story. Sorry if it comes out as a rambling mess, I’m just going to tell it how I remember it and let the words flow out. It started the first day back after the winter break. I went to classes as usual and then after school went to the library to study. When I first started tutoring Rebel- I guess I can tell you his name now - we reserved one of the private rooms in the back of the library for the whole year. After he ditched me, I figured I may as well keep using the space, so I go there most days after school. It’s quieter than being in the dorm rooms listening to the girls playing their music and racing in and out of one another’s rooms while I sit on my own and feel awful. In a way, the library became a safe haven for me.
The first Monday back at school in January I’m sat in the private study room working when the door opens and Rebel’s standing there in the doorway looking sheepish. I was so shocked to see him because it’s been months. He comes into the room and starts apologising - he’s apologising for standing me up on the date, for bailing on our lessons, for ghosting me, vanishing, the works. You name it, he apologises for it. He even apologises for me being bullied, even though that isn’t something he needs to say sorry for because it has nothing to do with him.
At first, I think he’s just there to ask me to start tutoring him again, but he doesn’t. He sits down and starts to work beside me. Whenever I sneak a look over at him, he’s busy working. I’m so confused, what’s he doing there? Why is he back all of a sudden? Why isn’t he asking for help?
He’s still as gorgeous as ever. Seeing him again just reminds me how much I’ve missed him. I thought I was over my crush on him, but I’m not.
I didn’t even get mad when I found out that he’s actually good - like really good - at English. He didn’t need help or tutoring at all! When I asked him why he made me tutor him, he said it was the only excuse he could think of to talk to me. I was too flattered to be cross with him. Yeah, I have it bad.
He works in silence by me for an hour and then gets up and leaves with only a “bye”. He comes back the next day, and the next, and every day after that for a week. Sometimes we talk, mostly we study in silence. Eventually, he asks me out, promising to show this time, and I reluctantly agree. I can’t help myself. There’s something about him that makes me drop my guard. He slips past my defences and my common sense.
It takes another two weeks before we actually go on a date, school being crazy right now. In the meantime, I get approached by another of the princes - Ace - and asked out.
I know you’re probably thinking that they must be fucking with me, right? But Ace isn’t like that. He’s the quietest of the princes, the kindest. I’ve spoken to him a few times at night when I can’t sleep and have snuck down to the kitchens for hot chocolate. He’s almost always in there baking up a storm, so we’ve got to chatting a time or two. He’s really sweet, so I think, why not? It’s just a date. And he seems so happy that I said yes that he insists on taking me out the next day.
We go for ice cream, and it’s such a lovely perfect date, ending with a kiss and a promise to go out again at the weekend. Nothing about it felt forced or unreal. He tried really hard to talk to me even though English isn’t his first language, and he even made me laugh a couple of times. There’s no way he’s messing with me.
I like him. I really do.
