Margo Rabb - Lucy Clark Will Not Apologize

These pains that you feel are messengers. Listen to them.

Rumi

O nce upon a time, in a girls boarding school in Texaslong before I needed to stop a murderit was Pancake Day.

On Pancake Day, everyone lost their freaking minds.

At Thornton Academy, a pancake-like object existed on the regular menu, but it wasnt actually a pancake. It tasted like glue sticks mixed with cinder blocks. Flo, our school chef, had to follow strict rules from our headmistress on what and how to cook; once a year, when the headmistress left for her Stars of Educational Leadership conference, Flo made whatever she liked.

RECIPE: Non-Pancakes

(Official version approved by headmistress)

Serves 150

8 pounds oat flour

2 pounds bulgur

5 cups egg substitute

Ineffectual amount of baking soda

75 squirts butter-flavored cooking spray

Heaping cup of despair

RECIPE: Once-a-Year-on-Pancake-Day-Real-Pancakes

(Courtesy of Flos mother)

Serves 150

10 pounds white flour

4 beautiful cups white sugar

1 cup baking powder

Shocking amount of real butter, eggs, salt, and buttermilk

Large sprinkle of hope

My kitchen duty job today was to deliver the pancakes to the inmates.

I dropped off a stack at the closest table, where the first years sat. They were known as the Ducklings; they were fuzzy and innocent and gobbled their pancakes with endless glasses of creamy milk. I was a grizzled fifth year, a juniorId been at Thornton long enough to have my soul crushed.

I delivered pancakes to the tables of other girls, and turned to face the seniors.

I know dropping off breakfast platters shouldnt be a big deal. But dozens of eyeballs stared at me like I was a lonely tree and they were lumberjacks, their faces dancing with visions of firewood and newspaper and Tinkertoys.

Kitchen duty wasnt so bad when my best friend, Dyna, did it with meevery student at Thornton had a job, and this was oursbut her father had pulled her out of school a month ago, after the Incident. Since she left, it felt like someone had opened my chest and scooped out my lungs and ribs. I pictured my insides like a hole dug in the ground, with feathery white roots hanging loose, with nothing to grip. I wasnt myself anymoreI wanted to get back to being myself, but who was that? I wanted to be a person without a hole inside her.

I glanced at the back of the cafeteria, at the longest and widest table, where Thing One and Thing Two sat with their fellow seniors. I dropped the pancakes off at their table without breathing, and moved away as fast as I could. I kept walking.

Something hit me in the back of my neck. Moist, slimy, and warm against my hair.

I peeled it off. Pancake bits and syrup stuck to my hand.

Excited about tomorrow? Thing One shouted across the room. Your special day?

Tomorrow was April thirteenth. A month ago, Id received a letter:

THE WILLA THORNTON ACADEMY FOR THE YOUNG WOMEN OF TOMORROW

Educating and Improving Every Girls Mind, Body, and Soul to Better the World

1400 Grackle Boulevard, Austin, TX

WARNING OF POSSIBLE SUSPENSION

This letter shall serve as official notice that Lucy Clark is under consideration for suspension from The Willa Thornton Academy for an extended period, due to the unfortunate incident on March 4 and her struggles to obey the school rules and meet the standards of this community. A final evaluation by the Headmistress will take place on April 13, and, if suspension is deemed appropriate, the terms will be given on that day.

Warmly,

Beverly Leery

Headmistress

Ms. Leery signed all her official letters Warmly. Dyna usually scribbled next to Ms. Leerys Warmly:

Warmly, with toads

Warmly, with pure hatred

Warmly, wishing you death by fire or another demise that is especially painful

I wanted to leave the schoolsomewhere, anywhere would be better than this placebut when I thought of how my parents would react if I got suspended, my blood thickened, clogging my body, and I could barely breathe.

After the Incident, on our video chat, my parents shocked eyes had widened into full moons, as if theyd discovered that I was made of green putrefied alien flesh. We didnt think you were the kind of person whod do that, theyd said. Were just so disappointed. The disappointment flowed out of their eyes as the love disappeared, and a distant sadness froze their features. A glacier of lost hope and faith in me, their eyes squinting as if they were trying to reconcile the daughter who screwed up with the daughter they hoped I would be.

I returned to the kitchen. Flo saw my face. You dont look so good. Here. Eat this. She opened up the bin marked Chia Seeds, which held her secret stash of emergency chocolate, and gave me a Kit Kat bar from Japan. She collected chocolate from all over the world.

Outside the kitchen, in the dining hall, everything had begun to deteriorate. The Ducklings had overstuffed themselves till their stomachs hurt and were being herded to the nurse; the Things and their henchwomen had squashed their pancakes into balls and thrown them at the ceiling, the lamps, and the Choose Kindness posters on the wall.

The bell rang for first period. Time for art.

Take more chocolate, Flo said. She gave me an English Caramello and a Twirl. Eat them today or keep them well hidden.

Thornton had a strict policy on candy: if you were caught eating it anywhere on the premises, your body would be sliced into pieces and fed to wild boars.

I stuck the bars in my pockets and walked to art, my favorite class, down the hall and past the Things, who smiled and whispered, Tomorrow will be the day that you die.

T he art room floated above the school on the top floor of the main building, with huge windows and treetops swaying outside. It was a sanctuary. It was also a total mess.

The room was filled with jars of paint and giant purple yoga balls to sit on, and a teacher, Mrs. Fell, who was legally blind and hard of hearing. Every day, she set out a bowl of wax fruit from approximately 1920 covered with dust as thick as squirrel fur, and then we ignored the fruit and drew whatever we likedone girl drew her little brother with boogers coming out of his nose, and some people drew flying hippopotamuses, and one girl even drew a porno with naked bodies twisted like fusilliand Mrs. Fell would nod at all of it and say, Lovely, dears.