The Unwanted (12 page)

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Authors: John Saul

BOOK: The Unwanted
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Cassie nodded silently, handed the card to the teacher, then focused her attention on the exam. It was a combination of true and false and multiple choice questions, and covered the same material Cassie had studied in California only a month earlier. Fishing in her bag for a pen, she started working.

There were still five minutes left in the hour when Cassie finished. She looked around, surprised to see that most of the class was still concentrating on the quiz. Finally she looked at Mrs. Leeds, who smiled sympathetically and beckoned her to the front of the room.

“I guess I shouldn’t have let you take it after all,” the teacher said quietly when Cassie was next to her.

“It’s all right,” Cassie replied. “I’m finished.”

Frowning, Sarah Leeds took the quiz from Cassie and quickly compared it to the answer key on her desk. Her brows rose appreciatively as she marked an A in the corner of the paper. “Three minutes,” she announced to the class, and with a wink at Cassie, added, “and I might as well tell you that you have some new competition. Cassie Winslow has
finished the test in twenty minutes, with only one wrong answer.”

The silence that fell over the class this time was resentful rather than curious, and Cassie quickly realized her mistake. She shouldn’t have finished the test—shouldn’t have taken it at all. But now it was too late. Though she couldn’t bring herself to look at the rest of the kids, she could feel them all staring at her with the same hostility that earlier had come only from the girl next to Eric.

She could practically hear what they were thinking:
Her first day, and she’s already trying to look better than us
.

Then—mercifully—the bell rang, and suddenly the class was on its feet, milling around Cassie as the students dropped their test papers onto Mrs. Leeds’s desk before churning out into the hall on their way to their next classes. Only when the room was empty did Cassie start toward the door.

“Do you know where you’re going?” she heard Mrs. Leeds ask, and stopped short, realizing that she didn’t. She turned back to see the teacher writing quickly on a piece of paper.

“Here’s your schedule, with all the room numbers and names of your teachers.” Mrs. Leeds handed her a scribbled list. “And don’t worry about the test. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I spoke before I thought. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Cassie replied after a slight pause. “I just … well, tests have always been easy for me. I just remember things.”

“Like Eric Cavanaugh,” Mrs. Leeds observed. “I’ll bet he finished in twenty minutes, too, and I suspect he got a perfect score. But I’ll bet I’m the only one who knows how quick he is. He always spends the whole hour going over and over his answers, pretending he’s having trouble.” She winked at Cassie. “You might try that trick.”

Cassie nodded, then hurried out of the room as the warning bell for the next period sounded in the crowded halls. She glanced at the paper in her hand and began working her way toward the staircase at the end of the hall. Suddenly she was bumped from behind and felt herself losing her balance. She reached out, grabbed the banister of the stairwell, and turned to face the person who had bumped into her.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” a voice demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Cassie blurted, then recognized the blonde with the angry eyes. Once again the girl was glaring at her.

“You should be sorry,” the girl replied. “And you shouldn’t be trying to show us all up just because you’re from California either!”

“I didn’t mean to do anything—” Cassie began, but the girl cut her off.

“And if you think Eric’s going to look out for you just because he lives next door to you, you’re wrong! He doesn’t even like you. Now, would you mind getting out of my way?”

The girl pushed past Cassie, running down the stairs to catch up with two other girls, who were waiting for her on the landing below. As Cassie started down the flight, the other girls disappeared from her view and she heard a burst of laughter.

They were talking about her. It was only her first day, but they were already talking about her
.

She told herself it didn’t matter, tried to convince herself that she wouldn’t even see the girls again.

Except that when she found her second-period classroom, there was only one seat left, and in the next seat the blond girl sat whispering with someone on the other side of the aisle.

“I didn’t mean to show anyone up,” Cassie said as she slid into the seat. “My name’s Cassie. Cassie Winslow.”

The girl glared at her. “I know your name,” she replied, her voice mocking. “We all do. We just don’t care!” Then, twisting in her seat so her back was to Cassie, she went on with her conversation.

For the next hour Cassie sat stiffly at her desk, staring straight ahead.

She would give it until lunchtime. But if things weren’t any better by then—if something good didn’t happen—she wouldn’t be back in her classes when lunch was over.

Rosemary glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. She still had half an hour before the shop had to be open. Just enough time to change the beds and get the laundry started. She hurried up the stairs, then paused outside the closed door to Cassie’s room.

Memories of the previous night came flooding back to her.

Maybe she should ignore Cassie’s room, and leave a note for Cassie to change her bed when she got home from school.

But that was ridiculous. All she was going to do was make the bed. Surely Cassie couldn’t resent anything as simple as that, could she?

Making up her mind, she turned the knob and opened the door. The first thing she noticed was the chill in the room, and her eyes immediately found the open window. She walked the length of the room quickly and was about to close the window when she noticed the bent coat hanger holding the screen open. She paused, frowning at the mangled piece of wire, trying to imagine what it might be for. Finally, deciding that perhaps the screen had been rattling during the night and that Cassie had propped it open rather than wiring it shut, she took the coat hanger out, rehooked the screen, and shut the window.

Then Rosemary went to the bed and began to pull the quilt back, intending to straighten the bottom sheet.

An angry screech filled the room as the quilt came away from the bed, and a grayish form rose off the mattress and hurled itself at her. Instinctively she raised her right arm to shield her face, and a split second later felt the burning heat of claws sinking into the flesh of her wrist.

Barely able to stifle a scream of pain and shock, she jerked her arm away from the cat’s claws and leaped backward. The cat dropped to the floor then shot across the room toward the window, leaping up to the sill as if it expected to be able to slip outside. Thwarted, it turned back, arching its back and hissing.

Rosemary gasped, suddenly understanding why the screen had been propped open.

But where had the cat come from? She’d never seen it before, couldn’t remember even seeing one that looked like it.

She started toward it, stopping when the creature’s fur stood up and its hissing turned into a dangerous snarl. Rosemary glanced around the room but saw no weapon, nothing with which to fend the cat off. She picked up a pillow and threw it at the angry animal. The cat ducked away from the pillow,
leaped from the windowsill, and disappeared under the bed. Instantly Rosemary ran to the window, jerked it open, and fumbled with the hooks. As soon as they were free and the screen was once more loose, she felt the cat brush past her. As she watched in astonishment, it leaped into the tree, dropped to the ground, then disappeared into the cemetery next to the church.

Her heart beating rapidly, Rosemary waited by the window for a moment, trying to catch another glimpse of the cat, but then the burning pain in her arm penetrated her consciousness. Looking down, she saw four deep scratches in her wrist, a line of blood oozing from each of them. Slamming the window shut, she abandoned Cassie’s bedroom and hurried into the bathroom to wash her injured wrist.

A cat, she thought. Where on earth had it come from, and what was it doing in Cassie’s room? But, of course, she already knew—it had come around begging, and Cassie had let it in. Well, there would be no more of that—if there was one thing Rosemary Winslow had never been able to stand, it was cats.

C
hapter
6

“There she is!” Lisa Chambers whispered loudly, leaning forward across the cafeteria table to make sure Teri Bennett and Allayne Garvey could hear her. “Isn’t it spooky? I mean, just look at her!” She straightened up, brushing a stray lock of her blond hair back in place, then fell silent as her two best friends shifted their attention to the cafeteria door, where Cassie Winslow stood scanning the room as if she were looking for someone. After a few seconds she moved to the end of the food line and picked up a tray.

“I don’t think she looks so weird,” Allayne commented, then wished she hadn’t said it when Lisa’s eyes raked her scornfully.

“Are you nuts?” Lisa demanded, her voice no longer a whisper. “Look at the way she’s dressed. She looks like some kind of leftover hippie or something!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Teri protested. “And she’s dressed just like everyone else, except her jeans are red. If I could find a pair that color, I’d buy them too.”

Allayne, feeling more secure now that she knew Teri hadn’t seen anything particularly strange about Cassie either, nodded. “And her hair’s gorgeous,” she added. “It’s almost the same color as Eric’s, except his is curly and hers is straight.” At the mention of Eric’s name she saw Lisa’s color deepen, and suddenly understood what Lisa really had against Cassie. She grinned mischievously, and her voice took on a
needling quality. “In fact I’ll bet she and Eric would look neat together, wouldn’t they, Teri?”

“They would not,” Lisa snapped, instantly rising to Allayne’s bait. “Besides, Eric can’t stand her.”

“Then why did he walk her to school this morning?” Teri asked with a deliberately innocent tone. She was enjoying Lisa’s obvious discomfort. Usually it was everyone else who felt uncomfortable while Lisa said whatever was on her mind. As Lisa struggled to find an answer to her question, Teri spoke again, keeping her voice blandly innocent. “Here come Eric and Jeff Maynard. Let’s ask Eric.”

“Don’t you dare,” Lisa gasped, her face suddenly paling. “If you ask him, Teri, I swear I’ll never speak to you again!” As Eric dropped into the seat next to her, and Jeff into the one next to that, she fell silent.

“What’s going on?” Eric asked as the two girls across the table stifled a giggle.

“Nothing,” Allayne finally said. “We were just talking about Cassie. Lisa doesn’t like her very much.” Lisa’s eyes flashed her a warning, but Allayne decided to ignore it. “What’s she like?”

Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. I only talked to her on the way to school this morning.”

“Well, what did you talk about?” Teri pressed.

Before Eric could answer, Cassie appeared next to the empty seat beside Teri Bennett.

“Is anybody sitting here?” she asked, her voice betraying nervousness.

Eric was about to shake his head when he felt Lisa’s elbow nudge him sharply.

“It’s saved,” Lisa said. “Teri’s boyfriend always sits there, and he’ll be here any minute. Sorry.”

Cassie hesitated, then moved off toward a small empty table next to the far wall. Teri stared at Lisa.

“My boyfriend?” she echoed. “Would you mind telling me who that’s supposed to be?”

“Well, why should she sit with us?” Lisa protested. “Can’t she make her own friends? Just because she lives next door to Eric doesn’t make her part of our group. She’s just a nobody, and I don’t think any of us should have anything to do with her.”

A silence fell over the table as the other four teenagers looked at each other, each of them waiting for someone else to speak first. Finally Eric Cavanaugh broke the silence.

“How’s she supposed to make friends if nobody will even talk to her?” he asked. Without another word he rewrapped his sandwich and put it back in the bag. Then, with his lunch in one hand and an open carton of milk in the other, he got up and walked over to the table where Cassie sat alone. As his friends watched in silence, he said something to Cassie. She nodded, and then he sat down.

Finally Allayne Garvey leaned across the table. “I thought you said he couldn’t stand her.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened with anger, but she said nothing.

When the bell rang twenty minutes later, Eric began stuffing the remains of his lunch into the paper bag. Across from him Cassie didn’t seem to have heard the bell at all. “What’s your next class?” he asked.

She started slightly, then shook her head. “I—I don’t know. Math, I think.”

“Mr. Simms,” Eric grunted. “He’s a real creep. You want me to walk you up there?”

But instead of answering his question, Cassie asked one of her own. “What’s Lisa’s next class?”

Eric frowned. “Math. So what?”

Cassie took a deep breath then stood up, hooking her right arm through the straps of her bag so she’d have both hands free to pick up her tray. “So, I guess I won’t go to class,” she said.

“Not go?” Eric asked blankly. What was she talking about? You didn’t just decide not to go to classes. “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” Cassie replied, her voice calm. “I decided during second period that if things didn’t get any better by lunchtime, I was going to leave.”

“But you can’t leave,” Eric protested, scrambling to his feet to follow Cassie as she headed toward the bins of dirty dishes at one end of the long food counter. “Besides, what’s been so bad?”

Cassie added her tray to the stack on the counter, then quickly sorted her dishes into the various bins. When she was done, Eric shoved his empty lunch bag into a trash barrel and fell in beside her as they started toward the cafeteria doors. “I just feel like everybody hates me,” Cassie replied. “They’re all talking about me, and Lisa’s the worst. So if she’s in the math class, I’m just not going to go.”

“But what’ll you do?” Eric asked.

Cassie shrugged. “I don’t know. Wander around, I guess. Maybe I’ll go to the beach.” She glanced at Eric. “Want to come with me? You could show me the beach.”

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