Not like I could tell Headmaster Dunn any of that. “I had female troubles.”
But even that, the Gold Standard Excuse to Give to Male Teachers didn’t work. Headmaster Dunn went on like I hadn’t said anything. “I think it’s possible you’re suffering from stress.”
“I am not stressed!” My fingers dug into the sides of the chair, clutching so hard I was surprised I didn’t tear a gash in the leather.
He might have believed me if the words hadn’t come out in a hysterical shriek.
As it was, he heaved a huge sigh. “In your best interest, Harper, I’m removing you from the SGA.”
“You’re . . . you’re what?”
“Also, I’m going to advise Coach Henderson to give you a break from cheerleading until next semester.”
“But it’ll be over next sem—”
Headmaster Dunn’s jowls wobbled as he shook his head. “And I think the Committee for Academic Honesty can do without you, at least until Christmas.”
Now I was making high-pitched whimpering sounds.
I watched him write down and subsequently cross out every single activity I did for the Grove. Future Business Leaders of America? Gone. Key Club? Gone. Annual Christmas bake sale chairperson? Crossed through twice.
“There,” he said with satisfaction once he was done erasing my entire life. “Now see? You’ll feel so much better.”
“But . . . college,” I said weakly. I didn’t care what Saylor said. I could still do that, right? How could I not go to college? “They’ll see that I dropped out of all this stuff my junior year, and they’ll think I can’t follow through, and all I do is follow through, so—”
“Harper,” he said sternly. “You are bright and talented and driven, and any college would be lucky to have you. But as your principal, it’s my job to guide your academic pursuits. And I think all these things you do here at the Grove are getting in that way of that.”
He ripped the paper in half, the sound making me wince.
“But now you’re free. Concentrate on your classes. That will do more to get you into a good school than all the extracurricular activities in the world.”
I stood up, my legs numb. All I could do was nod.
“And Harper,” he added when I opened the door, “maybe take some time for yourself now, okay?”
Chapter 35
The day before Cotillion, I sat on Saylor’s sun porch, staring at a textbook. Today’s lesson involved the history of the Ephors and ancient Greece, even though I’d thought our last session before Cotillion might involve more fighting and training. But Saylor said it was important for me to conserve my strength, hence the studying. The day felt pleasant and fallish, and the sunlight was warm between my shoulder blades as I studied.
“This,” Saylor said, pointing to a picture of a stone fort at the edge of a cliff, “was the home of the Ephors. Or was. I have no idea if that’s where they’re still operating from.”
I ran my finger over the imposing building. It was huge and vaguely medieval-looking. There were even bars on the windows, and below, the Mediterranean, so blue it almost hurt to look at, crashed against a rocky shore.
“It’s . . . beautiful doesn’t seem like the right word.” “It’s not,” Saylor agreed, taking another sip of lemonade. “It’s awe-inspiring and terrifying and lovely to look at, but not beautiful.”
There was a wistfulness in her voice, and I glanced up. “You miss it.”
It wasn’t a question. Saylor’s eyes were practically misty as she looked at the photograph.
“It was all I knew for a very long time. And don’t get me wrong, Pine Grove is very nice, but it’s not . . .” She trailed off, her fingers brushing the edge of the page. Then she cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. “Anyway, that’s the seat of the Ephors. And how many are there?”
Sighing, I leaned back in my seat. “Five. They used to be elected by the Greek people, but now they choose their own successors. And they pass their power on via super creepy kissing, just like Paladins.”
Saylor frowned. “That’s not exactly how I’d put it, but yes.”
When I didn’t say anything, Saylor reached out and closed the book. “You seem distracted today.”
There was absolutely no humor in my laugh. “Kind of have a lot on my mind right now, Miss Saylor.”
“David told me there was an issue at Cotillion practice yesterday. Something with you and Mary Beth?”
A breeze swept through the open door of the sun porch, making the wind chimes ring softly, and even thought I wasn’t that cold, I wrapped my arms around myself. “It wasn’t a big deal. But what was you not being there supposed to accomplish exactly?”
Leaning back in her chair, Saylor folded her arms. “Yesterday was actually another training lesson for you. I wanted to see how you did leading the girls by yourself.”
I snorted. “Oh, well, everyone turned on me and started snarking about my boyfriend and David, so that went super great.”
“What about David?” Saylor asked.
“Let’s just say it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that we’re spending a lot of time together, and people have the wrong idea, and . . . ” I trailed off. “Anyway, I can fix it.”
Before Saylor could reply, David suddenly appeared in the doorway, leaning his head out. “Say— Oh. Pres. Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, turning all my attention back to my book. But he walked onto the sun porch, standing in front of me. “Is everything okay? After yesterday?”
I lifted my head then. David’s outfit today was another winner: a shrunken black V-neck sweater over a bright purple collared shirt, with blue and violet plaid pants. I didn’t even know where one purchased plaid pants. Still, looking at him, I smiled. Say what you would about David’s wardrobe—and I’d said a lot over the years—he was always a hundred percent committed to it.
“It was fine,” I told him. “I went over to Ryan’s and we worked things out, so . . . yeah, right as rain. Except for saving both of our lives and this entire town, of course.” I thumped the book in front of me.
David blinked a couple of times, the effect slightly owlish behind his glasses. “Oh, good. Not about us maybe dying, but you and Ryan. That’s . . . that’s good.”
“It is,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I felt like I hadn’t slept in years.
Silence fell and it lasted a second too long before David turned to Saylor and said, “Anyway, wanted to let you know I was home.”
“Anything to report?” Saylor asked, and even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew David rolled his eyes.
“Nope. No one tried to kill me, I’ve had no bizarre visions of the future, and now I plan on making myself some pizza rolls. We good?”
“Go,” she said, waving a hand at him.
But there was affection in her voice, and her eyes followed him out the door.
“You love him,” I said, and she swung her gaze back to me.
“I do.” She smoothed her hands over her thighs, flattening imaginary wrinkles from the linen.
“Even though he’s not your family.”
Saylor laughed, a surprisingly husky sound. “Don’t you love people who aren’t your family, Harper Jane?”
“Of course I do. But you love him for more than the whole Oracle thing. You love him because he’s David.”
Saylor sighed, looking behind her. The sun was starting to go down, and her backyard was filled with soft golden light. Even in November, things were still green and blooming.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I love him because he’s David. That boy can be a pain in the backside, don’t get me wrong, but he has a good heart. And he’s actually handling this a heck of a lot better than I thought he would. Look at him. Whole life turned upside down, and he’s in there making pizza rolls.” She gave a fond snort. “He’s a good boy. So yes, I love him, whether he can see the future or not.”
My throat felt weird, so I opened the book again, flipping pages and trying to focus on the words in front of me. Ephors were said to have magical powers of their own, but many people thought they were simply draining that power from the Oracles themselves and—
“Harper, do you care about him?”
Closing my hand around my glass of lemonade before it could plummet to the patio, I shook my head. “David?”
“He was the boy we were speaking of, yes,” Saylor answered dryly. “And not just because he’s the Oracle, but because he’s David.”
I made a big show of resituating my lemonade glass on the table, wiping stray droplets from the book. “Of course I don’t,” I said, even as my heart hammered in my ears. “You’ve seen the two of us together. All we do is argue.”
“Passionately,” Saylor said.
“There is nothing . . . passionate about me and David. I’ve spent most of my life despising him and while I’ll admit that this—this situation has made me appreciate him a little more, there’s nothing going on between us.”
I made myself meet her eyes, which wasn’t easy, seeing as how just thinking about him was making my skin feel weird and too tight.
“Nothing going on,” I repeated, but Saylor only squinted at me.
“Do you know, if it weren’t for your respective positions, I’d hope you were lying to me. I’d hope you felt the same way about David he’s felt about you all these years.”
I couldn’t keep myself from snorting. “You want me to loathe him?”
Saylor wrinkled her nose. “Is that really how you think David feels about you?”
I couldn’t have this conversation right now. Not when there were about a million other things going on that were way more important than feelings.
“Please don’t tell me he’s only been writing horrible articles about me because of a secret crush,” I said, getting out of my chair and going to stand by the window. A cardinal flew into the birdbath, a bright splash of red against all the green. Something about that bright red bothered me, reminding me of . . . something. Something in David’s visions. There had been red in that, a wave of it. Blood? The thought made me shudder.