The Metropolis Series #3: Quinn and Cassandra
6. Rachael's Return

AFTER MEETING RACHAEL, I went to an office supply store and bought some packs of white printer paper with the remaining money my parents had sent for art materials. I threw in quite a few just in case I needed to contact Julio for any reason.

Once I was back in my dorm at St. John’s, I took a piece, folded it into an airplane, and sent it flying through an open window. How it would find Julio, I didn’t know, but with that, I thought that I could get some schoolwork done while waiting for him. However, I was barely able to settle down when I heard someone tapping outside my window. I jumped and turned around. Julio crouched on my window sill, his face pressed against the glass.

“You called?” he said.

I opened the window and let him in. “That was fast. You scared me.”

Julio dusted himself off. “I was in the area. I’m not feeling any difference in the timelines, so I’m guessing that you chose to get

Rachael a drink. How did it go?”

“I was able to do it,” I replied. “Rachael doesn’t remember you and Mackenzie.”

“Good. Just as planned.”

I envied Julio’s confidence. Personally, I still had my doubts about its effectiveness.

“But how do we guarantee that her memories don’t come rushing back when she bumps into you again?” I asked him.

“I suppose we don’t have to worry about that anymore since Lethe water is involved,” he replied. “You guys were talking about me and Mackenzie when she was drinking it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re still worried, I’ll be more careful. I’ll steer clear of St. John’s and any nearby areas as much as I can just so she won’t have to bump into me ever again.”

I pursed my lips. “I don’t see how that will work. She found you at The MacGuffin, remember? And that’s quite far from St. John’s.”

“The MacGuffin doesn’t count. It’s a magical traveling café.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…”

“Don’t worry about it, Quinn,” Julio then said, smiling faintly. “You followed the plan and did well. I’ll handle it from here.”

Rachael returned to school the next Tuesday afternoon. (Philip said that she would have come back sooner if it weren’t for a bad case of indigestion. Well, she unknowingly had two strawberry milkshakes in a row at that café.) It felt like the entire student body greeted her like she was some sort of celebrity or an alien visiting Earth. I didn’t know if the other students knew that she’d been inside Curtis’ house longer than anyone else. Nevertheless, the questions didn’t stop.

Where had she been?

Why hadn’t she been going to school?

Amidst the curiosity surrounding Rachael’s return, the students of St. John’s were certain of one thing: Rachael had changed. I was walking across the school grounds when I found her on the way to the main campus. The strong, ferocious leader of Deus Ex Machina had her head hung low and an oversized cardigan draped over her shoulders. Her fingers fidgeted, picking on the bandages that covered her guitar string scars. She stood closely next to Curtis, whose job was to shield her from any questions a random student might have.

“Not right now,” Curtis would say. “Give her some space.”

But I knew they wouldn’t. They would keep hovering around her like flies until they found what they were looking for. They were fully aware that the principal had been wanting to meet with Rachael as soon as she returned, hoping to identify who the crashers of Curtis’ party were.

The meeting began the moment Rachael and the principal crossed paths in the hallway before class. It didn’t help that the principal’s office was situated near the entrance to the main campus, so it was almost impossible to hide from him.

“Ah, Ms. Chavez,” the principal said. “It’s nice to see you have finally returned.”

The principal was probably the last person Rachael wanted to see on her first day back. Her shoulders tensed, and her voice went an octave higher.

“Good morning, Sir,” she stammered.

“I’d like to have a quick word with you,” the principal added. “And I suppose the topic of discussion isn’t so much of a mystery anymore.” He turned to Curtis. “Right, Mr. Stevenson?”

“Ah, of course,” Curtis replied, giving Rachael what looked like a reassuring look.

The principal clasped his hands. “Your parents want to get to the bottom of this mess as soon as possible. If you’d like, Ms. Chavez, Mr. Stevenson here can accompany you—”

“No, it’s okay, sir,” Rachael said, stepping forward. “Curtis can wait outside.”

Curtis then whispered something to Rachael, and Rachael replied in a low voice. I couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other, but it must have been something along the lines of:

“You’ll be okay?” Curtis asked.

“Yeah,” Rachael replied.

And then the principal brought Rachael into his office as Curtis sat on the bench outside. I decided to join him, taking the spot on the other side.

“I see Rachael’s back,” I said.

It appeared that I had startled him. His eyes widened and his shoulders tensed as he looked at me. “Oh, Quinn, hey.”

In hindsight, I should have said hi before anything else. My God, I’d been hanging out with Julio and his surprise entrances too much.

“Hey,” I finally said. I turned toward the principal’s office door.

“Rachael’s having that dreaded interview now, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s been worried about it for quite some time. Just like everyone else, she doesn’t remember what those crashers looked like. She only remembers that one of them was killed inside the house.”

“Do your parents already know about this?” I decided to ask.

“About the— murder that happened in your house?”

The M-word didn’t come out so easily. An image of Cassandra ending Mackenzie’s life burned across my mind again. I tried to shake it off, but it was useless.

“They do,” Curtis replied. “They’re horrified, yes, but it adds nothing to the crashers’ identities. As terrible as that sounds, the information is useless. They’re hoping Rachael can help fill in the gaps, but she doesn’t seem to remember anything, either.”

I nodded, sighing. The deeper I went into this conversation, the more I realized what kind of people Curtis’ parents could be. Owning a big house in one of the wealthier parts of the Metropolis was one thing, but them having the principal interview every student who attended the party was another. I knew that the school wouldn’t grant that request to just anyone.

“So,” I began. “You think your parents will get mad at Rachael for not remembering anything?”

I didn’t know where the question came from, but it felt like something they would do.

“Even if they do, I won’t let them,” Curtis answered.

At that, the principal stepped out of his office, carrying a folder of documents with him as he left the main campus. Off to somewhere important, I suppose. Behind him, Rachael quietly emerged from the room and closed the door with a faint click. Her jaw clenched, and her eyes watered when she looked in our direction. Then, when Curtis rose from his seat to meet her, she ran toward him. She clung to his shirt, burying her face into his shoulder as she let out a sob.

Curtis’ eyes filled with shock as he slowly brought up his hands to gently pat Rachael’s back. The other students were beginning to stare, but they would turn their heads as if they never saw a thing.

“Rachael, what happened?” Curtis asked.

Rachael let out a long, deep sigh. “He… kept asking questions…telling me that I knew the answers to them, but… I didn’t. I didn’t know. I’ve been in that house long enough to see what those crashers look like, haven’t I? I saw someone die in that stupid house and I couldn’t give any answers. I’m sorry, Curtis. I’m so, so, sorry…”

Philip and Bree walked into the main campus just in time to see what was going on. Curtis quickly explained. At the mention of the word principal, Bree shook her head.

“That bastard,” she hissed.

“Rachael, I think you should skip classes today,” Philip suggested.

Rachael looked up. Her nose was red, and her eyes were puffy.

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

”You can stay in your dorm. Bree would be happy to join you.”

Bree shot Philip a dirty look. “Why me?”

“Curtis and I aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms.”

“There’s Vasquez—”

“I have a presentation for first period,” I said. “Can’t be late. Sorry.”

“Ugh, fine.” Bree rolled her eyes and glared at Curtis. “Tell your folks to chill out, Stevenson. Seriously. C’mon, Rache.”

She marched out of the main campus. Rachael followed behind her, but not without glancing at Curtis and waving at him. Curtis waved back, and at that, Bree and Rachael disappeared into the school grounds.

Philip sighed. “Well, that’s settled. Anyway, gotta head to class.”

Curtis nodded. “Yeah, see ya later.”

Philip waved and turned away from us. My eyes followed him up the stairs for a while; I thought it’d help get my mind off of what just happened.

“I guess we’d better head to class, too,” I told Curtis.

He sighed in response. “Yeah, let’s go.”

I nodded as we headed up the stairs together. As we were on our way to class, I questioned whether or not Julio’s plan to wipe away Rachael’s memory was a good idea. Sure, it kept everyone safe from a Metropolitan existential crisis, but even if Rachael and I weren’t that close, it was hard seeing her so miserable.

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