Page 112 of Good Girls Lie
Ford has had enough of this. She has bigger problems than a puritanical teacher who isn’t willing to get with the program. But she can hardly say that aloud.
“I’ll be sure she doesn’t get away with that from here on out. Melanie will stay with her. And give out all the JPs you want, Dominic. I won’t stand for the girls not showing the proper respect for their studies or their teachers. I appreciate you making me aware of this situation. The girls are given great leniency when it comes to the society taps, yes, but that doesn’t include the use of alcohol or drugs. Confiscate any you find and let me know who is responsible. If we need to do a dorm search, we can. I’ve expelled girls for less.”
Dominic seems satisfied by this show of force. “Will do. They haven’t been careless enough to flaunt it, but I’m not so far removed from my school years that I can’t see the signs.” He stands, brushing his hands down his jeans. “I should let you get back to it. Thanks for hearing me out, Dean.”
“Ford. Call me Ford.”
He smiles shyly. Ah, she has read this correctly. If she wanted to, she could lead him by the hand to the couch for a holy hallelujah with Melanie listening fervently at the door, but she doesn’t need any more complications right now.
Your mind exists in the gutter, Ford. Get it out of his pants.
When the door closes behind him, the smile drops immediately. Every fear she’s had for the term has come to fruition. Drugs. Alcohol. Pregnancy. Death. And now, eclipsing them all, the idea that one of the students has lied about her identity to gain entry to Goode.
This cannot go on. The walls of this institution are strong, but even brick and steel can crumble under appropriate pressure.
She slaps the mouse to open the browser again. Her screen is filled with the image of a dark room and a young lady with blond hair that hangs in her eyes.
Ford clicks Play, watches, listens. Hears her own voice, sees her smiling, happy face in the small corner of the screen.
“Why do you want to attend The Goode School?”
The voice sounds right, the inflections the same, though tinny through the computer’s speakers. “I have to admit, it was my parents’ idea. I’m not too keen on being stuck at an all-girls boarding school. It feels like a punishment.”
“It’s an opportunity. But I’m not here to sell you on this, Ashlyn. Your parents have arranged for your admission, yes, and yes, most of the girls who attend Goode are desperate to be here. But they can’t force you to come. I don’t want you here if your heart and soul aren’t going to be in it.”
A glance down. Ash—or whoever she is—has that same mannerism. God, it’s so damn dark. Why hadn’t she noticed how dark the room was? Is this the same girl? She just can’t tell.
She watches, oddly cheering past Ash on—pull your hair back, I think I remember you pulling your hair back, do that and I’ll be able to see your face clearly.
There, yes, she pulls her hair back over her neck, then shakes it down to cover her face again.
Ford rewinds, then stops the video at the moment Ash’s face is fully exposed.
There is no question.
The Ash at her school is not the girl from the interview.
They do have an impostor.
“Lies will flow from my lips, but there may perhaps be some truth mixed up with them; it is for you to decide whether any part of it is worth keeping.”
—Virginia Woolf,A Room of One’s Own
67
THE PHONE
Ford doesn’t panic, not yet. She is logical. Cool in the face of adversity. Nothing rattles her. She closes the program, closes the browser, logs out of her computer. Tells Melanie she’s going for a walk on the grounds, not unheard of this time of day, then heads directly upstairs to the sophomores’ hall.
Has she been snookered by a sixteen-year-old? Is there something much more nefarious going on?
Ford has every right to search a student’s room at any time. It’s in the handbook, it’s part of the Honor Code. She’s never done it before. She’s never had to. The girls police themselves and their classmates better than she ever can. An Honor Code builds trust, yes, but there’s always the bit of rivalry that means some girls are looking for reasons to rat out their frenemies. Ford has always been good at sussing out what is real and what is animus and punishes accordingly.
But now she has no choice.
Ash Carlisle, whoever the hell she is, is hiding something, and Ford must find out what it is before the girl takes down the whole school.
She’s a hacker; Medea says she has talent. She could very easily be the one who sent the email with the photos and she was simply lying about it.
