Page 113 of For Your Own Good
“Must be more to it.” Zach grabs a veggie chip, trying to act casual. “What was she like? In school, I mean?”
“High-strung. Ambitious.”
“So, normal?” Zach says.
“Basically.” Titus starts to pick up another chip but stops. “I remember some saying she Roarked, but I don’t know.”
Roarkedis prep-school slang for “cracked under pressure.” Zach knows the term. Everyone at Belmont does.
So maybe that was it. She cracked, and now it’s led to her sitting outside Crutcher’s house in the middle of the night.
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AT TIMES, TEDDYwonders why he even bothers. His entire life is built around his students—whom he would, and has,killedfor—yet they still find ways to upset him. It’s like they go out of their way to do it.
The evening news is on. All day, he expected the headmaster announcement to dominate the local coverage. It should have, given that his predecessor had died in the most recent poisoning at Belmont.
Was it so wrong to do what Teddy did? Wrong to kill someone, sure. In general. But when it was for the greater good—like saving his students, Courtney and Zach, from a life of hard times—then maybe it wasn’t “wrong” in the bigger sense of the word.
And was it so wrong to want something for himself? It’s not like he could tell anyone what he was doing; he couldn’t claim credit. Teddy had never had any ambition about becoming the headmaster. Headmasters were always former Belmont students. He’d never thought it was possible until suddenly it was.
They should talk about that on the news. The new headmaster at Belmont is the first one who isn’t one of the alumni. Because he’s that good.
Instead, he’s staring at Veronica.
She’s a nice girl. Veronica was in his class when she was a sophomore. A good student—not a great one, but good enough. She’s a senior and one of the most popular students at Belmont. The prettiest, too, some would say. Teddy wouldn’t.
Veronica was also one of the students poisoned last Monday. Now she’s on TV, telling her story.
“It was about an hour after lunch, and I started feeling sort of light-headed, like I hadn’t eaten in a while. But my stomach was still full from lunch.”
“What did you eat for lunch?”
“A soft-wrap taco and a small carton of milk. Two percent milk. I got both of them in the dining hall. When I got up to leave after fifth period, I felt dizzy. It was like...It was like looking through a tunnel, where everything just gets smaller and smaller. That’s the last thing I remember.”
Teddy rolls his eyes. Looking through a tunnel. She should have paid more attention in class. If she had, she would’ve used a better metaphor.
The interview goes on forever, like they have nothing else to talk about on the news. Not the statement from the board of directors about the new headmaster, not his press conference, not his announcement about the memorial.
The idea for it had come to him all at once, like a siren going off in his head. Due to the death of Ingrid Ross and Courtney’s arrest, the school had never held its annual memorial for the first headmaster who died. The statue was never dedicated, and Teddy never got a chance to give his speech.
Now, a memorial is the perfect way to honorallof the Belmont victims, and to move on with a new headmaster.
It will be held just outside the school—they still can’t go inside, but the front steps and the parking lot have been approved. Teddy already has it all planned out. The top of the stairs will serve as the stage, with the school itself as the backdrop.
Perfect.
Except no one is talking about it. Everybody is listening to Veronica.
He turns off the TV and goes into his office. It’s been a few days since he checked social media to see what the students are saying. While he hopes they’re talking about the new headmaster—good or bad, as long as they’re talking about him—he bets they’re talking about Veronica.
And he’s right.
While most are sympathetic to the fact that she was poisoned, that doesn’t stop some of them from calling her a media whore. Can’t argue with that.
They also dissect everything about the interview: what she said, what she wore, how her makeup was applied. Teddy finds himself mesmerized by their analysis. With a little editing, it could be a term paper. A rather impressive one at that.
Using his alter ego, Natasha, he adds in a few remarks of his own. They aren’t kind, but they’re true.
