Hemlock (Academy of the Dead Book 1) Page 5

  Nadia cradled her like a baby. My lips pursed. She rocked her back and forth while humming a tune. Bitter closed her eyes. Nadia reached for her belly and I knuckled my lips. “Ahh—don’t.” I reached out, but she did it anyway—and nothing happened. Nothing at all!

  Bitter just laid there in her arms all peaceful and quiet, allowing Nadia to rub her belly.

  Just then a knock came to the door and Nadia turned away to face the window.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Nadia mouthed something to me that I couldn’t understand.

  The handle moved and it opened, bringing in the light from the hallway. Headmaster Mason stood there, but didn’t cross the threshold. “So, how is—” he paused when Bitter’s big fluffy tail slapped Nadia’s on the side. “Is that a cat?” he asked. Nadia rolled her eyes and then turned with Bitter in her arms.

  Bitter Bat let out a deep meow, then coughed. It was normal for her to do, but didn’t help the situation. Zander placed his hands on his hips and lowered his chin.

  “Nadia, why is there a—a—a—achoo!” he sneezed louder than I thought possible, practically rattling the window and forcing me to blink. If it were a cartoon my hair would be blowing in the wind. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose while I grimaced. Nadia didn’t say a word. Then he spoke again but his voice had changed.

  He was now congested.

  “You know I’m aller—aller—a—a—gic!” The sneeze came out with his words and this time I felt the breeze. Bitter meowed again. I’m sure she was loving it. She lives to torture people.

  I took a step forward. I couldn’t let Nadia get in trouble for something that was my fault.

  I wrung my hands while trying to explain what I thought had happened. My eyes shifted from Nadia, to Bitter, to Headmaster Mason. “This is my cat. I mean—she’s dead, which is a long story, kind of, but Nadia didn’t bring her in here. She was in my suitcase.”

  The Headmaster wiped his nose again and it was followed up with a snot-filled blow. My jaw clenched. “You packed a dead cat?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No—she must’ve, well,” I glared at Bitter, “She’s a stow away, like on a boat. She crawled inside my suitcase and probably fell asleep. Then Nadia was helping me carry it up the stairs and we dropped it, because I have really weak arms,” I showed them off, pointing to the lack of muscle, “—so again—my fault, and it slid down the steps, popped open and out came Bitter Bat.” But I knew that wasn’t true because Mom was looking through my suitcase in the trunk of the car. Bitter must’ve been in the trunk, then climbed in right before Mom closed it.

  “B—b—b—” I leaned in but he held his sneeze inside this time. He tried to compose himself but his eyes were now red-rimmed and swollen. “Bitter Bat.” He spoke slowly.

  I scratched the side of my head. “Yes, I named her Bitter Bat because of the ears, which you can see—they remind me of a bat, but I accidentally killed her when I was younger and brought her back.” My nose wrinkled when she coughed again in Nadia’s arms. “But she was sort of in the ground already, so I had to dig her up and do the Necromancing thing on her, which I don’t fully understand, so she came back like this.”

  Bitter Bat stared at him and then one of her eyes rolled in the socket. I grimaced.

  Headmaster Mason groaned then pointed a finger at me. “Call your mother and please have her pick this dead cat up as soon as possible,” then he stared at Nadia with pure intent, “And no—no—absolutely not. You will not be keeping a cat in this school. Do we understand each other?”

  Nadia let out a long sigh while lovingly staring at Bitter. I felt sort of bad. Maybe this is Bitter Bat’s person. I know we’re all supposed to have one. “Nadia?” the Headmaster repeated her name.

  “Fine, Dad.” She replied, as he closed the door.

  Then I blinked in shock. “Wait, what?—that’s your Dad?”

  Nadia gave Bitter a kiss on the head.

  “Yes. I’m Nadia Mason, The Headmasters only daughter.”

  “Wow.” I muttered.

  Chapter Four

  We sat on the front steps of the Academy sharing a bag of kettle corn. It wouldn’t save me from starving to death, but at least it would buy me a little more time.

  I popped two pieces in my mouth and chewed. “Bitter will destroy that room.” I stated with the roll of my shoulder.

  Nadia reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of popcorn. She shoved it into her mouth with a grin, trying to speak, but a piece fell out. I watched her catch it before it hit the steps, showing off some sharpened skills.

  “No—she won’t.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose then adjusted my glasses. “You don’t know her like I do.”

  The phone hummed in my pocket. “Finally!” I exclaimed as I jumped to my feet. Mom had texted me.

  I fingered at the screen with lightning speed. Thumbing my way through an abridged version of what had happened. I left out the bulk of it. I pressed send, and bit at my nail, while I waited for a reply.

  It arrived in just one word.

  WHAT?!!!

  I grinned while bobbing my head, pecking in a desperate reply.

  YES!!! HELP!!!

  My phone rang and I lifted it to my ear.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mom’s voice cracked. I laughed with the roll of my eyes.

  My hand slapped against my thigh. “I wish I was.”

  “Okay—well—”

  The pause made my heart skip a beat.

  “Mom?”

  I heard her sigh and then noticed the music in the background.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Rook—honey, no worries. I’m home, but I have to admit that I’ve seen to it that an entire bottle of Pink Moscato has mysteriously disappeared.”

  I turned by back to Nadia and lowered my voice. “Are you telling me that you’re drunk?”

  She hiccupped then giggled. “Maybe—no—yes, I am definitely ineebrieechiated.”

  “Seriously?!”

  Nadia stood up behind me. “What’s going on?”

  I waved her off and cheesed a grin, before tucking it back under my armpit. “Nothing—it’s all fine. Everything’s fine.” I whispered, as Mom started to sing quite loudly on the other end of the line.

  “Clean shirt—new choose.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Are you singing Sharp Dressed Man?” She loves that song. I giggled.

  “It’s shoes, Mom—not choose. Clean shirt—new shoes.”

  “Cause every girl crazy about some sharp dressed Dan.”

  “Mom—it’s man. Who the heck is Dan? Are you dating someone named Dan?”

  She dropped the phone and her voice fell off in the distance. I tapped my foot. Nadia touched my arm with concern. The muscles in my jaw flexed. “My Mom drank a bottle of wine by herself and now she’s butchering the lyrics to one of her favorite songs.”

  “Who’s Dan?” Nadia asked.

  I let out a sigh when my Mom returned ever so stoic.

  “My name is Alexander Pamilton.”

  I held the phone away from my ear. “Oh—perfect. Now she’s killing Hamilton.”

  I placed the phone back to my ear and she was belting it out. “We outgunned, out Pamed.”

  “Mom, I’d like to know what some lady named Pam ever did to you.”

  She dropped the phone again, so I had no choice but to wait until she returned laughing so hard, she snorted.

  “Mom—I would like for you to get some sleep, but please remember this.”

  She interrupted me with a loud “Whoop whoop!”

  I straightened my shoulders. “Mom—listen to me. I would like to have lunch with you tomorrow because I miss you.”

  “Oh! Oh—honey.” She began to sob into the phone.

&n
bsp; “Just remember that you need to be here, at Hemlock Academy at noon.”

  “I’m going to write that down right this minute and then I’ll pull it out every year at Christmas and hang it on the tree.”

  Nadia raised her hands out of curiosity.

  “That’s fine, just be here at noon tomorrow, okay? I also need a tie.” Knowing she’d at least write it down and we’d be saved from Bitter. There was no time to remind her that she was coming to retrieve a dead cat.

  “Noon noon, noony noon, and yes the TIE! We will get you all the ties you need. Ties for everyone! You get a tie, and you get a tie!” She called out.

  I pulled the phone from my ear when she broke into an operatic song.

  “Love you! See you tomorrow!” I yelled before hanging up on her because this could go on all night long.

  I lowered it to my side. Nadia shoved more popcorn into her mouth and chewed. “So?”

  I nodded. “Mom’s picking up Bitter Bat tomorrow, so we just have to survive one night.”

  She stared off into space. I know she was disappointed, but the last thing I needed was to be expelled because of a dead cat on my first day of school.

  Chapter Five

  We returned to our room and I cracked the door. Bitter was on my bed growling at me and I promptly closed it. “Nope.” I said as Nadia laughed, but it faded as she noticed my expression.

  “Oh, don’t be sad. I can’t stand that and besides, I’m your ment. It’s my job to make sure you A-S-S-I-M-A-L-A-T-E.” She said the word like a robot while moving her stiffened arms up and down.

  I laid the side of my head against the wood door and traced the flowery pattern that was etched into the surface with my index finger. “I’m just disappointed, I guess.”

  Her shoulders slouched. I perked up. “No—no. It isn’t you. It’s just, well, this isn’t exactly how I imagined my first night at Hemlock Academy.”

  She placed her back against the door. “And what would that be like?” she asked innocently enough so I didn’t hold back. “Well, I imagined getting checked in, then looking through my really cool gothic inspired room, and then—” I paused.

  She leaned in closer. “And?” she rolled her hand, motioning for me to tell her.

  I leaned in closer, so no one could hear. “Then I’d make some coffee, slip into my favorite pajama’s and—”

  “Yes?” her perfectly manicured eyebrow cocked.

  “Read a romance novel.”

  She stiffened up. “Read?”

  I shrugged my shoulder. “Yeah—a really good one.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Good, like what?”

  I scanned the hallway and didn’t see anyone. “Like being alone in a house together and holding hands while watching a movie.”

  She shook her head. My lips formed a straight line. “What?” I asked.

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. I protested but Bitter kept her distance. Nadia shut the door behind me and grabbed my shoulders.

  “The bad news is there will be no coffee-book-snoozefest going on in here tonight.”

  “Hey.”

  She giggled and her hands moved down my arms until she was holding mine. “And the good news is that your hatred for a dead cat will not be ruining your first night at Hemlock.”

  “I don’t hate her. I fear her. Big difference.” I muttered.

  She ran to the closet and swung the doors open with wild enthusiasm.

  A shirt flew by my face, then pants—then another shirt. Nadia was hunting through her clothes until she swung around with an outfit that consisted of a rose-colored t-shirt with small white flowers on it and a pair of semi-dark skinny jeans with prominent rips across the knees and shin bone. “Oh!” She spun on one foot and then whipped back around with one more piece—a deep mustard yellow blazer that stopped right above the waist. “What do ya think?”

  I love clothes, but I’m not the best at putting things together. I’d already proven that with what I chose to wear on my first day. I folded my arms over my chest and tilted my head. “Cute.”

  She turned the jacket in her hand and gave it a good once-over. “Cute? Do you have any idea how hard it was to find this jacket?”

  I shrugged a shoulder.

  “Months, Rook, it took me months to hunt this down. It was a Christmas miracle. This is Tach.”

  “Tach?”

  She leaned in and gawked at me while giving the jacket a little shake on the hanger. “Tach clothing.”

  I stood there dumbfounded.

  “They do vintage-inspired shirts and the coolest jackets. They’re a rising brand. Designed and hand-made in Uruguay. Tach is currently an undiscovered secret amongst the fashion set—like me, but not for long.”

  I frowned. Nothing she said made much sense to me at all.

  I decided to come clean. “I don’t know what Tach is, Nadia—but that jacket is neat.”

  “Neat? Just neat? So, you’ve never heard of them? Well, they’re brand new, so I get that, but you have to know Cecilie Bahnsen.”

  “Does she go here?” I asked with wide-eyes.

  Nadia blinked while taking a step away from me like I was contagious. The jacket, t-shirt and jeans lowered in her hands as she began to rattle off more names, “Peter Do.”

  “I—I don’t know him either. I’ll be honest, you’re like my first in-person friend, outside of my Mom. Don’t get me wrong, I talk to other people online, but that’s not the same.” I fidgeted with my hands.

  “Paris Georgia?” she added.

  “Is that a place?” I asked.

  She let out some nervous laughter. “Rook, these are all amazing fashion designers!”

  “I—”

  She cocked her head and grinned at me.

  “Cecillie Bahnsen graduated from a Danish school of design, and then worked at Christian Dior, she debuted her Summer collection in 2016 and was immediately stocked in Dover Street Market. Peter Do launched his brand in 2018 and redefines simplicity. He worked under Phoebe Philo at Celine, which I’m sure you’ve never heard of, but she’s also a big deal in the fashion world. Paris Georgia—GAH! I love them.”

  I nodded while tapping my frames back up my nose.

  “They launched in 2015 and are from New Zealand.”

  I was lost and she knew it. She set the clothes aside and took my hand, pulling me forward so she could show me her collection. She rattled off more names as she fingered through piece after piece. “Gauge81, BITE Studios, Christopher John Waters, Khaite, Rotate, Pyer Moss, Bande Noir, Arje, more Tach, Kelsey Randall, Orseund Iris—which is gorgeous by the way, just look at this backless dress!” She pulled out a cream-colored satin fabric dress with a large bow tied at the neck. The material draped down the back. It was pretty. I reached in and felt it after she encouraged me. It made my eyes light up. I could tell this was her passion and I can both understand and appreciate that. My passion is books and learning as much as I can.

  She placed it back in the closet, “Anyway, I also have one Kalmanovich, this red dress was pretty expensive, but I begged my Dad for it. He got it for me and I have yet to wear it.” She ran her hand over one translucent puffy sleeve.

  “Thank you.” I spoke with sincerity.

  She turned with a look of appreciation. I licked my lip and glanced at all of her clothes. “I mean, you didn’t have to show me any of this—or tell me about it, but you did, and I just think it’s really cool.”

  She leaned in and gave me a hug. I placed my hands on her back as we stood there in complete silence until Bitter coughed up a hairball behind us. I grimaced and wouldn’t let her look past me.

  “Trust me, you want to go your whole life without seeing that.”

  She leaned in and gave me an innocent kiss on the lips. “I can tell we’re going to be the best of friends.” />
  I parted my lips and then she winked at me. “Now, we need to get ready.”

  My eyes locked on her. “Get ready for what?”

  Chapter Six

  Nadia leaned in and ran a soft brush across my cheek. It felt the whiskers of a cat.

  Any cat but mine.

  I flinched when Bitter bumped into my leg. I stared down and she hissed at me before making her way over to the large window that ran three-feet off the floor to a foot from the ceiling. She hopped up on the window bench that ran the length of it. It was plush, made out of red velvet. I could see myself utilizing that bench some rainy afternoon with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other.

  But Nadia had different plans for us tonight.

  “There.” She said as she stood up and set the brush back in her Kaboodle makeup carrier. I only recognized it because my Mom has one that she uses to keep all of her lipstick, gloss, brushes, and eyeshadow.

  Mom’s is pale pink, Nadia’s is black.

  It fit the motif of our room which sat somewhere between Count Dracula, and early Queen Elizabeth the Third.

  I hadn’t noticed much about the room until now, considering all the excitement with Bitter Bat and moving in and all, but I was beginning to appreciate it. I tilted my head back. A cathedral ceiling made the room taller than wider in nature, but it was still larger than our cottage by the lake. A fireplace, stained from decades of use, rested to the left. Some charred wood still remained in the andiron. A chill was slowly collecting in the Academy, which I’m sure only worsened in the Fall and Wintertime. I prefer those seasons anyway. I have an arsenal of thick socks that I’d surely utilize on this old wooden floor. The bed sat high off the ground with only a simple headboard, constructed of thick redwood. A carved hemlock flower sat dead center and could only be seen when light rushed across it. Nadia’s bed was on the opposite side of the room, facing mine.

  Three windows ran the length of our bedroom, housed in wrought iron. Sheer black curtains flanked each end, offering some Halloween-esque esthetic.

  Nadia slid her top off and then removed her pants. I looked away to give her some privacy, but I’m not sure she cared. Nadia had clearly spent her time with other kids, making her comfortable in her skin.