The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove (35 page)

almost dark, but I wanted to walk and think. I wished I hadn’t agreed so quickly

to becoming Lucky’s Companion. I wished I knew what had happened to BB. I

wished I could start all over again, from meeting Jack on the path in the grove.

But Jack loved Hattie.

When I got to the school, I saw Mr. Mason’s lighted classroom. If I ever

married, would my husband be like him, standing and watching the Family, yet

not a part of it?

I WENT
to my cottage and took the Companion ring from its hiding place. I felt

foolish hiding things in my own place, but, as Mary Violet said, old habits die

hard.

Which meant that BB must have had a hiding place, too.

I searched the laundry room. I tapped on walls and floors, listening for any

hollowness, and checked behind and under every item I could lift. I did the same

in the kitchen, before going to the living room.

I tested the stones of the fireplace, going from top to bottom and right to

left. Then I took all the books off the shelves.

It took me almost two hours to reach the bathroom. I checked the obvious

places, like the toilet tank. The tiles around the bathtub were secure, and there

was nothing behind the medicine cabinet. I glanced up.

The paint was scratched off on the screws that held a plaster wreath

surrounding the light fixture.

I got a screwdriver from a drawer of tools in the laundry room and carried

my desk chair to the bathroom. The chair wasn’t high enough to let me reach the

ceiling, so I piled up big books to step on.

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The slick paper covers of the books slid under my feet as I climbed up.

I loosened the screws around the plaster wreath and lifted it off carefully,

revealing an opening in the ceiling around the light fixture. I used one hand to

clutch the plaster piece to my chest and the other to hold onto the wall as I

stepped back down. I set the plaster wreath on the sink counter.

Then I climbed back up. I reached through the opening, and didn’t feel

anything. BB was taller and could reach farther, so I stretched as far as I could,

too far, because the books slipped from beneath my feet. I crashed down, my arm

banging against the bathtub and my left ankle twisting as I hit the floor.

I cried out and toppled over on my side. When I tried to stand, pain shot

from my ankle upward and I cried out again.

Someone banged on the front door and yelled, “Jane! Are you okay? Jane!

It’s Jack.”

I hobbled around the fallen chair and made my way slowly to the front door

as Jack kept banging and yelling. “I know you’re in there, Jane! Open up.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and balanced my weight on my right foot

before I opened the door.

Jack had one hand on the doorframe and the other raised to knock again.

He was wearing jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt that said Dog Waffle Research

Laboratories Lld.

“What was that crashing? I heard you scream.”

“What are you doing here?” My throat constricted, but I didn’t know if it

was because of my ankle or seeing Jack again.

“I asked first. What happened?”

“I fell.” I leaned against the doorway.

Jack looked down and then scooped me up in his arms. “I’ve captured a

wood sprite. Do I get to make a wish?” He carried me to the sofa.

“Put me down.” I was embarrassed that he was seeing me like this. I tried

to pull down my skirt, which only brought me closer to his chest.

“Do I get a pot of gold?” He set me sideways on the sofa with my feet up.

“If you don’t mind, I actually have some experience with busted ankles.”

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The pain was so bad that I said, “Fine.” I leaned back on my elbows and

watched as he slipped off my shoes and socks. His calloused fingers gently

explored my left ankle. When he hit a tender spot, I flinched with a small sound.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s swelling, but since you can put weight on it, I think

it’s probably okay. Let’s ice you up.”

He went to the kitchen and I heard him banging the ice trays around on the

counter. He came back with a plastic bag filled with cubes. “I always keep ice

packs at home.”

“And Band-Aids.”

“I’m the only one who needs them.” He placed a cushion under my foot to

elevate it and put the ice bag on my ankle. “I’m because I was thinking about

apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have said what I did. If you’re in love with

Lucky…that’s none of my business.”

I looked away from him. “You were right about one thing. BB didn’t have

an uncle. I found an interview with her in the newspaper archive. Hattie and

Mary Violet say that BB was looking online for older guys with money.”

“Hattie told me.” He grabbed another cushion and moved to put it under

my head and shoulders. As he was doing this, he touched my shoulder and the

scar there pulsed warmly as it had when he’d braced himself on me to get on his

bike.

He sat on the sofa next to my legs. The feel of his body next to mine filled

me with longing and regret. I wanted him in a way that I’d never wanted Lucky,

which is why I’d been willing to settle for quasi-sex.

“Halfling, I’m sorry I made you think someone here hated you.”

I said nothing.

“Lucky will never love you, Jane. You’re not for him.”

My face went hot with anger. “Don’t you think I know that, Jack? I know

that I’m not beautiful or sophisticated or fun. I’m just plain Jane, a lonely,

delusional foster girl – but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve love. That doesn’t

mean I don’t want love and it doesn’t mean my heart can’t break, because it can

and it does.”

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“I never said you didn’t deserve love, Jane,” Jack said quietly. “From the

first time I saw you standing there on the path, appearing out of nowhere in the

grove, like an otherworldly creature, I haven’t been able to get you out of my

mind.”

I looked to see if he was being serious and his green eyes stared into mine

and he said, “Are you love with Lucky? Do you and he…because I don’t think I

could take it if you are.”

“No, not Lucky.”

Then Jack leaned over and kissed me. His lips were soft and warm and his

kiss was firm. His arms went around me and I knew how perfectly
right
this was,

being here with him. I put my arms went around him and kissed him, my whole

body arching to him.

His lips were on my face, kisses lighting on my eyelids and my cheeks. I

wanted to make love to him. I wanted to stay with him here and now forever.

But I pushed Jack away. “I’m not doing this to Hattie.”

“Hattie and I are friends, no benefits,” he said and took my hand. He kissed

my palm and then my fingertips and ripples of pleasure went through me.

“Really?”

“Really,” Jack said. “Halfling, I want you to leave Birch Grove.”

I leaned away from the lamp’s light, into the shadow, so he couldn’t see the

hurt on my face. “Am I so pathetic that you think you can give me a little

attention and that’s enough to convince me…. Oh, god, just go. Leave me alone

and don’t come back.”

“Jane—”

“If you don’t go now, I’ll tell your parents and Ian Ducharme what you’ve

been doing.”

“Let me explain.”

“I don’t want your explanations,” I said, a sob catching in my throat. “I

never want to see you again.”

He stood and reached up to the silver chain on his neck. “This is for you,”

he said.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“I don’t want anything of yours.”

He pulled the chain out of his shirt and then lifted it over his head. He

dropped it into my lap and I saw a silver leaf dangling from the chain. “I want

you to have it anyway.”

When Jack walked out and closed the door, I cried as I hadn’t since my

mother’s death. I cried for her, for Hosea, for myself, all of us who had died.

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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta

“Acts of vandalism, including defacing school property and neighboring

property, will result in discipline that includes restitution and may include

suspension or expulsion.”

Birch Grove
Student Handbook

MY ANKLE
was still swollen the next morning, and my mood was as flat and

hopeless as it had been in my years at Mrs. Richards. I was about to leave my

cottage when I saw the silver necklace on the sofa where I’d left it.

The leaf hanging from it was as delicately etched as the leaves on the

birches and
JFM
was engraved on the stem. Even though I hated how he’d tried

to manipulate me, I put it on now, sliding the medallion under my blouse where it

would be close to my heart. The metal felt warm on my skin.

I limped to the nurse’s station before my first class.

She felt my ankle and said, “It’s a sprain, but you should rest and keep it

elevated as much as you can.” She wrapped a stretchy beige bandage tightly

around my ankle and my foot.

“No, I need to go to class.”

She handed me a packet of Advil for the swelling. “How did you do this?”

“I fell off a chair when I was trying to reach something.”

“You should get a stepladder before you break your neck. Would you like

crutches?”

“No thanks, ma’am. I can get around.”

Mr. Mason was standing at the chemistry lab door as I went into class. He

said, “Is that a limp?”

“It’s only a sprain. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“If you need to take a few days off to recover…”

“No, I don’t want to get behind.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite student, Jane.”

His smile eased my mood for a moment, and I took my seat next to Mary

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Violet.

“Why are you hobbling?”

“I fell off a chair. It’s only a sprain.”

“Ouch, that’s not very exciting, unless you were dancing on top of the

chair.”

“Tragically, MV, I was only using it as a ladder. MV, did BB take chem

with Mr. Mason?”

“No, JW, although BB did have AM for homeroom I think. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“My mother is concerned that you aren’t eating home-cooked meals and

she wants you to come over more. However, I told her that her gallery of supersized genitalia upsets your sensitive digestive system and offends your feminine

modesty.”

“You didn’t!”

“Yes, and I wrote the poem I promised. It’s called, ‘Ode to an Innocent.’

I’ll recite it to you later. It’s not as deeply moving as my possum poem, but it’s

still poignant.”

“Class, may we begin?” Mr. Mason stood at the front of the room looking

at Mary Violet and me. I slid down in my chair and hoped he hadn’t heard what

Mary Violet had said.

I’d felt as if I was moving slowly through water all day. It was more than

my hurt ankle. I looked around at the dignified school, the breathtaking setting,

and the smart students and I wished that I’d never met Jack Monroe so that I

could enjoy everything that being a Companion offered.

If I left Birch Grove, I would have nothing again, not even a foster home to

take me in while I finished school.

I hid in a music room at lunch because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. As I

left it, I passed the panel hiding the secret tunnel. I remembered how Jack had

joked when I caught him and the sparkle in his green eyes and the way his mouth

curled up when he was teasing.

When I got a message during history that Mrs. Monroe wanted to see him, I

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wondered if either of her sons had said anything about me. “Come in, Jane, and

close the door behind you.”

I sat on the chair opposite her desk. “Is anything wrong, ma’am?”

She smiled her serene smile and said, “Nurse said you’d hurt your ankle. I

wanted to make sure you were feeling all right.”

Everyone at Birch Grove was always asking if I was all right. “I fell off a

chair when I was reaching for something on a shelf. It’s one of the problems with

being short.”

“I’ll have one of the staff to take a stepladder to you. How is everything

else? Hattie says you’ve rehearsed your lines for the initiation.”

“I have, but my pronunciation is not very good,” I said and recalled Jack’s

silly reading of Latin.

“Your best effort will be good enough, Jane. How are things between you

and Lucian?”

“We’re fine, ma’am.”

“I’m glad you two get along so well. Jacob has been so moody lately, and

he’s usually my sunny one.” She sighed. “I’d like to take you to brunch on

Saturday. We can go over everything that will happen at the initiation that night

and have some one-on-one time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” When I looked into her calm gray eyes, I wondered what

she really knew about BB’s disappearance.

“You look tired, Jane. If you’d like, we can use the injury as an excuse to

postpone your midterms so you can rest and relax.”

“Thank you, but if I can’t keep up with the schoolwork, I shouldn’t be