The Chocolate Money (26 page)

Babs strides confidently toward it. As if this is something she does every day. That’s the thing about Babs. The chocolate money makes her feel at ease anywhere.

I follow behind. I have never been in this room, and I am surprised to see that, despite all its mystery, it looks like any other classroom at Cardiss. A big oval table with wooden chairs around it. There are six folding chairs on the side where we are to sit. Implies Cape and I each have two parents to get us through this mess. Which of course we don’t.

Cape and Mags are already there. Cape wears a blue blazer, khakis, and a Cardiss tie; Mags wears a Liberty print shirt, blue poplin skirt with pantyhose. Grass Woods all the way. I still can’t believe that clothes don’t matter in this process. If I still had my pink-and-white-checked sundress, I probably would have tried to wear it.

They hold hands. If Mags is troubled by Babs’s arrival, she doesn’t show it. Just pulls a mint from her purse and offers it to Cape.

I take in the twelve students who compose Stud Jud. They wear blue blazers, each with the Cardiss insignia on the right lapel. Meredith sits on the far end of the table, her blond hair up in a bun, as if she were a teacher. I wonder where all the blazers are kept. I have never seen one in Meredith’s closet. It’s not the kind of thing you wear around campus.

Even though none of them are smiling, I can feel the palpable excitement in the air. There is a copy of the C-book in the middle of the table, should any of the students need to refer to it. The only other person I recognize is Jade from my bio class. We dissected a pig together. My incisions were jagged and cost us an A. She never spoke to me again, and I know she’s probably not sympathetic to my case.

The only adult in the room besides Mags and Babs is Mr. Carlson, Cape’s dorm head, the one who busted us. I suppose he’s going to present the official charges against us.

He knocks the table with a gavel and asks all of us to stand.

“Repeat after me,” he says.

I start to follow along before I realize he’s addressing only the students at the table. I feel like an idiot.

“We, members of the student judiciary, swear to consider each of the students before us without personal prejudice and only in light of the infractions committed.”

They all repeat this and retake their seats.

I look at Meredith and discern no smugness in her bearing but rather a somber attitude I’ve never seen her sport in real life.

The next order of business is for Mr. Carlson to present our crimes. He remains standing. I feel Babs twitch beside me and know she’s craving a smoke. I wonder if she’ll light up right there or excuse herself.

“First,” Mr. Carlson says, “I want to remind you that each of these students, Bettina Ballentyne and McCormack Hailer Morse, should be considered as separate cases, even though they were caught together.”

He continues.

“On the night of October twenty-third, I entered Cape’s room and discovered Cape and Bettina in Cape’s bed, engaged in sexual activity. Both parties were naked, and it was past midnight. Both are charged with illegal visitation and sexual congress. Bettina is also charged with leaving Bright House after hours, a dangerous activity in and of itself, as it undermines campus security.”

It’s not lost on me that my leaving my dorm is the only infraction that gets a qualifier.

Having finished recounting the crime, Mr. Carlson sits down.

We’re not to have our say in front of Stud Jud. They’re judging us solely on our infractions, not factoring in our achievements at Cardiss. We’re dismissed to the hallway while Stud Jud votes on our fate.

The bench we’re to sit on is fairly small. Awkward. Babs sits next to Cape and I’m next to her. Mags is on the other side of Cape. Cape seems to want to protect Mags from any contact with either Babs or me.

Babs strikes up a conversation with him. I pray for a benign
Hello,
but of course this isn’t Babs’s style.

“Too bad your father isn’t here to see this. The whole thing presents a nice symmetry, don’t you think?”

Cape just sits there rigidly. Chooses to ignore Babs. I feel like grinding the heel of one of my pumps into her toes. Why, I ask myself, did I want her to come? As usual, she is making things worse. But there’s nothing I can do to stop her. To make her be anything but herself.

Ten minutes pass. The door opens and Mr. Carlson reports the vote. The Stud Jud has voted for both of us to be allowed to stay at Cardiss. I’m stunned. Maybe Meredith has less influence than I feared.

They all file out, no longer wearing the blue jackets. They are now just students like us. No one says anything except Meredith, who is eighth to walk out. She bends down and whispers to me: “I voted for you to stay. Leaving Cardiss would allow you to escape all of the fun we have in store for you.”

Then Meredith walks over to Cape. He stands to greet her.

“I voted for you Cape,” Meredith says. “I know Bettina, and I know it was not your fault.”

He doesn’t deny this, just says, “Thank you, Mere.” Kisses her just where her hairline meets her forehead.

Mags stands up and gives her a hug. “Thank you, dear Meredith.”

“Of course,” Meredith replies, then walks down the hall to the elevator. I can’t help but wonder:
Is this some kind of fucking cocktail party?

Now all we have to do is wait for the faculty. We sit in silence as they trickle in. They are not wearing special jackets like Stud Jud, just their regular blazers and ties. I suppose their being on this committee at Cardiss cloaks them in enough authority that they don’t need a special uniform. The identity of the faculty members on the committee has always been shrouded in mystery. Unless you go up for action, you will never know which teachers preside over Cardiss students’ fates.

I look around to see who is there.

The dean of students, Mr. Watson, sits next to Donaldson. I hope he’s read enough of my Babs stories to feel sorry for me. Deeds is there, which is worrisome, since she caught me smoking and Babs tried to bully her. She’s the only woman. The rest are male teachers I have seen walking on the paths but don’t know personally.

Watson, as dean, is in charge of the whole procedure. I note that he has two folders in front of him on the table. A thick one that reads
MORSE
on the side tab, and a slimmer one next to it with a tab that reads
BALLENTYNE.
I could worry about this, but I don’t.

Carlson stands up and describes our crimes. The report is almost verbatim what he said to Stud Jud, except he doesn’t need to remind the faculty that our cases are to be decided separately, and that they are not to let any personal interactions they might have had with us affect their judgment. Mr. Watson then reaches for the folders. He picks up Cape’s.

“These are in no way expected to excuse the crimes but are meant to provide insight into what each candidate has contributed to our school.”

I want to raise my arm and call foul since this last sentence seems to negate the impartial decision that they promised just minutes earlier.

He opens Cape’s file.

“Mr. Morse is a legacy; his father attended Cardiss. His mother endowed all the gardens at the entrance to the library. Mr. Morse maintains a three-point-seven GPA and belongs to the Young Republicans’ club, Students Against Hunger, and the debating society. He is a superlative lacrosse player and is known for not only his athletic skills but also his sportsmanship. He is expected to make captain this spring, the first Lower to do so in twenty years.” Watson closes Cape’s file and opens mine.

“Miss Ballentyne is a legacy of sorts: her grandfather attended Cardiss. He gave generously to the school while alive and included Cardiss in his will. Miss Ballentyne matriculated at Cardiss as a Lower, so she has no grades reported yet. She is on no sports teams and has joined no clubs.”

My record, as he presents it, seems to suggest that in the two months I have been at Cardiss, I have left my room only once, and that was to sleep with Cape.

“Now we have the chance to hear from the students,” he continues. I was unaware that we were expected to make a speech or a plea. I’m not good at public speaking. Cape goes first and I am grateful.

“I know the severity of my crimes, and I am deeply ashamed of the dishonor I have brought upon the school and my family. It’s my hope that the committee will see how dedicated I am to the school and give me a chance to continue my activities, and perhaps even take up some new ones. I promise also to serve as a role model, tutoring other students and telling them how important it is that they follow Cardiss rules. Thank you for your consideration.” He finishes and takes his seat next to Mags.

I stand, even though I really can’t think of anything good to say.

Babs looks intrigued, curious to know what I will come up with.

“Um, I too realize what a grave crime we’ve committed and know no amount of apologies can make up for what we have done. I also know that I haven’t had as accomplished a career as Cape has, but it has taken me a while to acclimate myself to boarding school. I’ve applied myself to my studies and hope for three-point-eight this term. In the spring, I plan on joining some clubs and maybe a sports team.”

I sit down, knowing my speech is riddled with the hypothetical but hope the faculty will see in me the potential of a productive future at Cardiss. Of course, I have never played any sports, so making a team is pretty unlikely, and I’m not sure I have the pep or conviction to join a club. Students Against Domestic Violence? Pennies for Puppies? Maybe, just maybe, I can push myself to be like the other students. Focus on getting into college. Making friends along the way.

Babs does not pat me reassuringly when I return to my seat but instead puts up her hand.

“Yes?” Watson asks, surprised.

“Would it be okay if I spoke?”

“Well,” he replies, “it’s not customary for parents to comment, but I suppose we can make an exception. Go ahead.”

Babs stands. My hands shake. I wish I had gone to Boston that night. Now it’s payback time.

“As Bettina’s mother,” Babs begins, “I have of course known her all her life. When I heard the news that she had been caught in a boy’s room, I was disappointed but not surprised. Bettina has always been defiant, but before, it was always little things. Still, I do not consider sex at her age a crime. She has good grades, and as far as I’m concerned, what she does with her body is her business.

“I believe this so strongly that I am willing to take her out of a school that punishes teenagers for being teenagers. Do you actually expect them to get to college without a little experimenting? But I know Bettina loves Cardiss, so I am willing to pledge a million dollars to the school if you change the policy on sexual practices and allow Bettina to stay. Add a sex education course if you have to, but don’t punish students such as her for this.”

She sits back down, satisfied. She has made a good case. No swearwords, and what institution could possibly turn down all that money?

I look at the faculty. They say nothing, stunned.

We are asked to leave the room while the faculty deliberates. This time Babs leaves the library. Goes outside, I’m sure to have a smoke. Cape and Mags still don’t talk to me, but I can sense they are uncomfortable. If Babs can buy my way out of this, it undermines the whole system.

Twenty-five minutes go by. A faculty member motions for us to come back in. Babs has not returned. Maybe the elevator is stuck. She doesn’t do stairs. The faculty begins at once, not bothering to wait for her.

I keep my head down as they read their decision. Stare at my pumps. They have bits of grass on the heels. I start to count all the blades. The suspense is so intense it almost hurts. The verdict will not only decide my fate but also prove or invalidate what I have always believed about Babs: that she gets whatever she wants. This time, she appears to want something good for me. Will she get it?

The dean delivers the faculty’s verdicts. But somehow I hear none of it. Or I do, but it does not register. Maybe it is just too hard for someone my age, sitting there by herself, to take in. I leave the room and see several students standing in the hall. Lowell is there, and he pats Cape on the back. Another boy approaches them. Asks, “Hey, what’s the deal?”

Another boy from Wentington I have seen Cape pal around with answers loudly, as if I’m not standing right there:

“Cape in; Bettina out.”

I see a glimmer of relief on Mags’s face. Finally, things are as they should be.

I push my way though the throng of students, out of the library. There’s no one there on my side. No one says sorry, or wishes me luck. I go to look for the only one who cares about my fate. Babs. I search for her outside but can’t find her anywhere. I walk back to Bright. Surely she’s there, sitting in her limo smoking, or in my room starting to pack. This is another thing she’s good at from all her trips. She loves to fold and organize. But no. My room is empty. I’m not sure why she left before hearing the outcome. Did she just assume the chocolate money would prevail? For now, it doesn’t really matter. I have to finish the rest of this alone.

After being kicked out, a student has twenty-four hours to vacate the campus.

Even if I were ready to leave, it is unlikely that a cab could get me to Logan Airport in time to catch a flight to Chicago. I pull out my LV duffel and start packing. It takes me about ten minutes. The only thing left hanging in my closet is the Peter Pan collar dress. I take it out and throw it into the garbage. Would it have made a difference in the outcome? Probably not.

Just then I remember something: Babs’s care package. The genesis of this whole mess. It’s under my bed, but I can’t leave it there. What to do with it? I can’t take the bottles with me. Too heavy, and Babs has some at home anyway. Nor can I empty them into the dorm toilet. There would be nowhere to throw the bottles away. I decide to take them to Meredith’s room. A thank-you present for voting for me. Despite her threat to torture me if I stayed.

I pick up the box, walk down the hall, and rap on Meredith’s door.