The Fixer Read Online Free Page B

auditoriums in the city. The Upper School just added a state-of-the-art robotics lab. And you should see the new gymnasium.”
    I gazed out at the nearby playing fields. The wind sifted through my hair, lifting a few strands upward, and for a moment, looking out at the massive stretch of green in front of me, I could almost forget where I was.
    “Now or never.” Ivy’s voice brought me back. “And you’re not allowed to say never.”
    “You don’t have to come with me,” I told her, hooking my thumbs lazily through my belt loops. “I’m sure you have more important things to do.”
    As if to accentuate the point, Ivy’s pocket began to vibrate.
    “It can wait,” Ivy told me, but I could practically
see
her fingertips twitching to answer it.
    “Go ahead.” I gestured to the phone. “Maybe there’s an update on Justice Marquette’s condition. Or maybe the president has a head cold. You get calls for that, too, right?”
    Ivy looked up at the sky. I wondered if she was asking God for patience. “That moment,” she said under her breath, “when you realize that sarcasm is hereditary.”
    Before I could formulate a suitable reply, the door to the administrative building opened, and my sister and I were ushered inside.
    “Ms. Kendrick.” The headmaster’s assistant had suburban-soccer-mom hair. She was wearing a peach twinset, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to offer us lemonade. Or cookies. Or possibly both. “And you must be Theresa.”
    “She goes by Tess,” Ivy said, as if I were five years old and incapable of speaking for myself.
    “Tess it is, then,” the woman replied gamely. “We were so sorry to hear about your grandfather, dear.”
    I couldn’t help feeling gut-punched. I’d spent the past year hiding my grandfather’s condition. Ivy, apparently, had taken out a billboard announcing it to the world.
    “But we’re very happy you’ll be joining us here at Hardwicke,” the woman continued, oblivious to my train of thought. “I’m Mrs. Perkins. If you’ll wait just a moment, Headmaster Raleigh will be—”
    A compact man with dark hair and a beard made his way around the corner. Mrs. Perkins cut off her previous sentence with a smile. “And here he is now.”
    “Ivy.” The headmaster greeted Ivy by name and reached both of his hands out to take hers.
    “Headmaster Raleigh,” she returned, in a tone that made me think that under typical circumstances, she’d leave the
headmaster
off. “I appreciate you making this happen.”
    “Yes, well . . .” Headmaster Raleigh plucked his glasses off his face and began polishing them against his shirt. “We think that you—and Tess—will fit in with the Hardwicke family quite well.”
    “I know my way around Hardwicke,” Ivy replied, in a tone that made me wonder what experience she’d had with the school—and why the headmaster looked uncomfortable with the reminder. “This is the right place for Tess.”
    “And, of course,” the headmaster added, “you can expect us to respect your sister’s privacy. Just as we respect the privacy of
all
of our students.”
    There was subtext there—a warning.
    “What happens at Hardwicke stays at Hardwicke,” Ivy said smoothly. “Believe me, I know.”
    “Am I early?” a voice piped up from the doorway. I turned to look at the girl who stood there. Ivy and Headmaster Raleigh kept their eyes on each other.
    “You are right on time,” Mrs. Perkins told the girl cheerfully, ignoring the tension in the room. “Tess, this is Vivvie Bharani. Since you girls are in most of the same classes, she’s going to be showing you around today.”
    Vivvie was an inch or two taller than me with dark brown skin, a round face, and wavy black hair that she wore pulled into loose pigtails. She offered me a hopeful smile. “I know,” she said apologetically. “This whole ‘hey, new girl, go with the total stranger’ thing is kind of cliché, but don’t think of me as your