The Education of Hailey Kendrick - Eileen Cook [66]
Evesham had kept our passports in the administration building ever since two juniors ran off for an elicit weekend in Paris a few years ago. This is the problem with people having a lot of money but not always a lot of sense. People could still get into a lot of trouble, but with our passports locked up, I guess the theory was that we wouldn’t get too far. Dean Winston’s secretary had them in a giant lateral file cabinet behind her desk. The janitorial staff started unlocking buildings on campus at six a.m., but in most cases staff and faculty didn’t start the day until closer to seven or seven thirty. All I needed to do was get into the building and up to Winston’s office, liberate my passport, and get out before anyone knew what I’d done.
I pulled on sweats and my sneakers. My story if anyone saw me wandering around campus this early was that I’d wanted to go for a run. It would still be a bit odd. This time of year most people either ran on the treadmills in the fitness center or at the track in the gym, but it was the best story I could come up with.
I shut my door behind me and passed a couple of girls in their bathrobes shuffling their way to the bathroom. I crept downstairs and saw Ms. Estes in the lobby. I stopped and did some exaggerated stretches trying to look fit and sporty. I bounced on the balls of my feet and swung my arms around to get the blood moving. I jogged in place for a beat, and then left the building. I could feel her eyes on my back. There wasn’t anything she could say; at six a.m. I wasn’t breaking any rules by leaving. I jogged down the path in case she was still watching, and waited until I had rounded the corner of the dorm before I stopped running and headed off across the quad to the administration building.
The front door to the administration building clicked open. The hallway was lit, but the doors to most of the offices were closed. My wet sneakers made a loud squeaking noise on the tile floor. It seemed like with each step my shoes were screaming out I’m doing something I shouldn’t!
I ran up the stairs toward Winston’s outer office. The only person I saw was one of the maids using a floor buffer way down the hall. She didn’t even look up when I went past. I tapped lightly on the door in case his secretary had come in early. The door creaked open a few inches. I peeked my head inside. Winston’s private office door across the room was closed, and I was willing to bet it was locked, too. The outer office had two sofas where visiting parents or important people could wait. Directly outside Winston’s office were two hard-backed chairs and a bench where those of us in trouble were relegated to wait for our fate. The secretary’s desk was almost directly in the center of the office, with the file cabinet right behind it. I took a few steps forward. My heart was beating fast. Up until this point I would still have been able to make an excuse as to what I was doing there, but soon there would be no amount of explanations that would make things okay. My hands were shaking. I either had to take the plunge or go back to the dorm and forget the entire idea.
I let my mind slip back to the phone call with my dad the night before, and that was all the motivation I needed. I wasn’t done with that conversation. I crossed the rest of the way to the file cabinet. I pulled on the center drawer labeled G through K. I yanked harder. It was locked. I wanted to scream from