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My favourite pranks though were when he put itching powder in the gussets of their cheerleading shorts. Nasty. And the time he snuck into the girls’ locker room and stole their clothes, towels, makeup and hair products during swim class. That was kind of brutal. He smiles wickedly as he tells me that tale, explaining that it was probably the lack of makeup and hair products that hurt them the most. I could only imagine.
Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I tell him I don’t want to get on the wrong side of him, and he returns that the feeling is mutual.
Ah, he’s obviously still thinking of those knives then. Good. He needs to know that I’m not my sister. She was the kind one. I’m only here for one thing: the total annihilation of Lizzie’s tormentors.
“Listen, Raven-”
“Call me Rae,” I cut him off. Let’s just address the elephant in the room and be done with it already. “It’s fine. I get it. I really do...,” I stare at him with a knowing look, “but you need to know that Lizzie and I are - oh god, were - completely different people. She was everything I’m not: good and pure, kind and true. She was an absolute angel, and I’m just...kind of a bitch. Well, I’m nice, but I’m not in her league. I’m not her. Not by a long shot. I’m here for one thing and one thing only: to take those fuckers who hurt her down. So, I have to be a bitch. You have to be on board with that and accept that that’s all you’re getting from me.”
Michael agrees, but I can tell he’s taken aback by my upfront no-nonsense attitude. He offers me the tour, but I politely decline. The dinner bell will ring soon, and I want to unpack a little and freshen up. I tell him so, and he agrees to meet me for dinner and complete the tour tomorrow. Sounds good to me. We say goodbye, and I’m glad he’s gone, as lovely as he is. I can’t decide if he’s helplessly in love with Lizzie, or gay. Maybe both. It wouldn’t bother me either way so long as he knows that I’m not her and I’m not interested.
I take a moment alone to compose myself before I come face to face with Lizzie’s bullies for the first time. My fiery temper is already threatening to flare, and I have to dampen it down, reminding myself that I have time. I’m here to play the long game.
***
Dinner is a thought-provoking affair. Michael met me outside in the foyer, where I had time to notice the giant glass-domed roof above us while I waited. It was pretty, and obviously the source of the light and airy atmosphere when we walked in. He met me and led me into the cafeteria (though it feels wrong calling it that). Lizzie was right: the service was better than any restaurant I’ve ever been to, the food itself surpassing Massimo our private chef’s work. Michael sat me at his table at the back of the room with some of his friends, who were all really nice and welcoming. They asked me lots of questions, but Michael batted most of them away and told them to back off. I was happy to just sit and listen to their natural conversations and banter. It was pleasant, feeling welcomed and a part of something, and I wondered if that was what it had been like with Lizzie at the start.
To me, it seemed like she’d got on well here, but now I was second-guessing everything she’d said to me - and kept from me - in her letters. That thought was sobering, and I reminded myself not to get too close to anyone, not even Michael. These people seem nice - hell they might even be nice - but I doubted that in a school this small, bullying would fly under the radar. So why hadn’t they helped Lizzie? No. To my mind, they were guilty by association. Guilty by lack of intervention. But I couldn’t take everyone down at once, so I have to bite my tongue and choose my battles wisely.
Over dinner, Michael points out the popular girls - princesses he calls them - but he needn’t have bothered. I would’ve known who they were a mile away, even without the notes and pictures he sent in his letters over the year. Five incredibly beautiful girls sit at the central table. I think how it’s incredibly clichéd that there’s a blonde, a brunette, a redhead and a girl with hair the colour of night. The fifth girl’s rocking a funky messy bob that’s dyed a gorgeous blonde to pink balayage colour. I love her hair and her nose piercing. She’s the only one who doesn’t look like she entirely belongs there, although her beauty alone would be more than enough to earn her a top spot at that table. I guessed that between them, they had all bases covered for every guys’ fantasy.
Sitting in the middle of the room like that, they were like the sun, everyone else their orbiting planets, worshipping them. No one approached them, but you could see everyone watching their every move. I watched as they followed people with their eyes, making snide comments that I couldn’t hear but could read clear enough in their body language and their loud cackling laughter. Only the fifth girl kept quiet.
Yes, there was no doubt in my mind that if Lizzie was bullied to the point that she felt suicide was the only way out, then these girls had more than something to do with it. I needed to start making them pay.
I glance down at the dessert on my plate, suddenly sick and not hungry anymore. I push it away and look to Michael. “I’m beat, long day,” I say apologetically. He nods his understanding, and I get up to leave, unable to watch them any longer. Michael goes to accompany me, but I shake him off. I just want to be alone right now.
It’s not until I’m back in my room that I feel like I can breathe again. Oh Lizzie, what happened to make everything go so wrong?
Lizzie’s Letter
Hey Sis!
I’m loving life here at West Prep! The classes are so interesting and challenging. I actually get to think and express my opinions, rather than just being spoon-fed the correct answers for the test. So far, everyone’s been really nice too. Even the teachers!
I’m back in the pool training again now. I’ve missed it so much. It feels really good to be getting fit again after a lazy summer, and you’ll be sad to hear that I’m finally working off that food baby I grew in the summer while we were in Italy.
Actually, that reminds me, when you choose our holiday for this summer, can you please make a decision on our destination based on something other than the countries with the best food? I swear I put two stone on in Italy. It was totally worth it, though!
It’s a good job I’m swimming again because the food here’s so good, I’m in danger of becoming the size of a house! I don’t want that, but I also don’t want to stop eating all the amazing dishes. Life is so tough!
Right, I have to go and work off the filet mignon I had for dinner tonight! Did I mention how tough life is here?
I love you. Be good!!! I mean it this time!
Your Busy Lizzie x
