The shirt was black with capped sleeves. I wondered if I looked too depressed in the color, or rather lack of color. I hadn't dressed in anything but pajamas and sweat clothes for a while, and I had no idea about trends. Should I have worn the blue striped one I debated, that was now lying on my bed? I contemplated picking up a magazine when Claire and I went school supply shopping, but the grinning girl on the cover with her laser-white teeth put me off.
I knew I was just putting off the inevitable. I walked up the steps and opened the door, walking inside. A small vestibule stood between me and the interior. HAWTHORNE HELLCATS HAVE SPIRIT read a banner in the school colors of purple and gold.
Last chance to run, a voice in my head coaxed. You can still get out of here.
I wrenched the glass door open instead. The smell of school flew into my nostrils, familiar but not at all comforting. Like canned spaghetti, with an undertone of evil. I knew my way around now, so at least there was that. Hawthorne architecture could be a maze to the uninitiated, as I discovered last year. All the freshman and sophomore classes were conducted on the bottom two levels, yet I found myself more than once wandering around on the top floor, beneath towering seniors as they giggled at my lack of direction.
I pulled out my schedule and walked around, finding my classes to kill time. Better that I know where to go than get lost or be late. Subjects were divided into hallways, and I soon recognized the orientation from memory. Being in school felt as strange as I anticipated it would, but in a different way. I felt like I was sleepwalking through the halls, like I wasn't really there.
The only other people around were a few of the office staff and a custodian. Most people spent their off time in the commons, which was not only a cafeteria and activity center but a hang out spot. But I didn't feel like going there right now. It felt like if I did, I would set in motion the actual start of the school year. I wanted to hold it off for the few minutes of freedom that remained.
Instead I went looking for the library. Disappointment hit me when I saw it was still housed in a tiny, pathetic corner room with no windows. Not that I had expected a change. Well, I had hoped for one, but I assumed the worst. One would think that with the seemingly bottomless wallets that funded the school's rebuilding, they could have afforded a decent library. But they had other concerns.
I peered in the window at the four rows of ancient paperbacks, all probably donations from people cleaning out their cluttered closets. Hugh told me that the town library was under renovation now that Hawthorne was finished, but I didn't want to get my hopes up about that, either. Considering how Hawthorne had fared, renovating could mean emptying the nonfiction section and installing a basketball court.
A local committee called the Thornhill Society held the responsibility for the renovation projects. They'd only sprung up last year, amidst a bunch of newspaper articles touting what a fresh change they would bring to the town. To my eyes, nothing needed to change, but apparently the adults thought differently. Thornhill provided all of the funding, through fundraising and their own benefaction, and no one was allowed to forget it. All of the wealthiest local families were members, the ones who lived in the gated community at the edge of Hell with perfect lawns and obscenely huge houses. An inch at a time, Thornhill owned a little more of the rest of us.
I passed a door marked BASEMENT ACCESS. A chain ran between the handles, secured with a sturdy new steel lock. A lot of my classmates used to go down there to fool around and drink during class hours, so it didn't surprise me that the school finally took preventative measures.
I started to move on, but stopped when I thought I heard voices. Listening, I frowned. Whispering, and from close by. The hallway in front of me was empty, and there were no TVs or radios nearby that I knew of. Besides, it wasn't that kind of sound.
I turned to my left. The voices seemed to be coming from behind the basement access door. I crept towards it, part of me thinking