LAMIAE

CHAPTER ELEVEN: QUESTIONS

Alan and his friend said goodbye to the girl, and then left them alone.

"Yes?" asked Dagmara, not fully understanding what the girl wanted from her, and why she didn't go with her "brother" and his friend.

"I had to meet aunties granddaughter," Arleta said as plainly as if she were adding two plus two. "Maybe you've heard of me, because I've heard a lot about you."

"Yeah? From whom?" she asked her directly, more interested in the second part of the sentence, ignoring the first one. She just didn't like lying, and she didn't feel like telling Arleta that she'd been spying on her the day she arrived.

"From auntie Genevieve, of course. I visit her often with Sandra. You would have met her today, but this year she changed high schools and now goes to a different one."

Dagmara frowned, because something in all this didn't sit right with her. Why on earth did an elderly woman like her grandmother have so many young friends? Why did she duplicate keys for teenagers and offer an apartment? Why did Arleta want her to meet some girl named Sandra?

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even care when their teacher left the room in a much worse mood than Alan had given her. Her whole face was seething with rage, and yet she couldn't talk to anyone since Dagmara closed the door behind her. Unless over the phone.

"What are you two still doing here? Shoo! Go home!" she chased the teenagers away, waving her arms as if she was chasing away extremely insistent flies.

The girls started down the corridor and only when they were far enough for the woman to hear them, Arleta hissed at her:

"Sandra was right calling her crazy."

Well, the term was quite adequate for a young teacher. Arleta explained to Dagmara that the class in which the teacher gave them the schedule was a room where physics was taught. Dagmara smiled. It was clear how much Arleta wanted to keep the conversation going, so she asked the girl how it was possible that such a woman taught at the school.

"A lot of people tried to fire her," Arleta said bitterly.

They went down the wide stairs.

"Only it's not that easy," she continued. "We feel respect for her, because it is said that she sleeps with the headmaster," the girl put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.

Dagmara reached for the round handle leading outside. She went ahead, leaving Arleta slightly behind.

"But that blonde guy, Alan, isn't afraid of her," she said, stepping onto the pavement in front of the school. She went down two more steps, then paused, waiting for a response.

"Because he knew her long before she started teaching in the school," Arleta replied, bending backwards to look for someone. Dagmara also took the opportunity to scan the area. She finally found Casper, though it was immediately apparent to her that he wasn't alone by the car. A girl in high heels with very long straight black hair was standing right next to him.

"Oh, Sandra did come! And she said she wouldn't make it!" Arleta was so happy that she left Dagmara, running up to her friends.

Dagmara didn't know whether to stand like this or to give them the opportunity to talk without the stranger she considered herself to be. She sat temporarily on a nearby wall, tying the strap of her shoe, which had come off. She saw three girls younger than her leave the school. They were jabbering, which convinced her that the teenagers were freshmen who had just met. She felt the bitter taste of jealousy - her first day at a new school should also be similar to the picture she saw.

"Oh my, look at that car over there," one of the teenage girls squeaked, with freckles on her face. The students began to look around in search of a car, and stared insistently at the Mercedes without any embarrassment. A freckled girl flinched.