Chapter Text
Delphine perched on the edge of Shay’s bathtub, filling it up to just the right amount. She ran the blade through her fingers, its cool metal familiar to her fingers, even after thirteen years.
“You know, when I was at boarding school,” she told the terrified Shay, “there was a girl I knew…very well. And she attempted suicide.”
Delphine looked down at the razor, unable to look at Shay. It’s for Cosima, she told herself.
“She slit her wrists in the bathtub. But it wasn’t enough. She should have cut the metatarsal arteries on top of her feet, too.”
And suddenly, she was back there. Seventeen years old, top of her class at the best secondary boarding school in France. On the edge.
“Juste une année plus,” Delphine whispered to herself as she left a particularly challenging maths class. Another year and she’d be out. Out of secondary school, and on to university.
Two girls her age sidled up with grins on their face and linked their arms with each of Delphine’s in the crowded hallway.
“Remember,” the girl to her left, Marie-Laure whispered, “no French.”
Delphine swallowed hard and walked faster, trying to release herself.
On her right, Helene let her go with a sickeningly sweet look. “We just don’t want you to get in trouble, Delphine.”
“Thank you.” Delphine flashed a quick, terrified smile at her captors before disappearing into the throng heading to lunch. She gritted her teeth and set her jaw. Une année plus.
Delphine had a full schedule this year—she needed to be completely qualified for university. There was no way she was going to settle for anything less than Oxford. As a result, however, she only had twenty minutes during the middle of the day for lunch. She quickly grabbed a plate of whatever they were serving and sat down with her microbiology book. She had a test next hour, and she needed to keep a 95%. She needed to. Delphine pulled her wild hair into a ponytail, eyes fixed determinedly on the book.
Finally.
It was 15:30, and Delphine climbed the stairs to her dormitory. All the other girls are out with their friends, Delphine thought with a moment of remorse. It passed quickly. The other girls weren’t working as hard as she was. The other girls weren’t getting her grades.
After completing a reading for environmental biology, she looked up from her desk out the window for a moment and saw several people from her year playing in the field.
Marie-Laure and Helene.
A familiar brown-haired head bobbed among them; Luc was there too. Teasing them.
They squealed with laughter at his touch.
Delphine felt like her throat had closed, and her stomach was turning. Luc was with those girls?
She shook her head and tried to bury herself in a physics worksheet. It didn’t work. She let her head fall down onto the wooden desk. I could have Luc if I didn’t study so much, she thought, biting down on her teeth so hard it hurt. She glanced over at the locked drawer on her desk. Not now. Tonight. When the other girls were asleep. That was the best time.
“Oui, Maman. Everything is fine.”
It was Wednesday night, the night Delphine’s parents always called, and she had to reassure them, like every Wednesday night, that she was fine. Because she was.
“I got two points off on my maths test,” she said quietly.
“Just two!” Maman exclaimed. “C’est formidable, ma cherie.”
“Merci, Maman.” She should’ve gotten a hundred. There was nothing incredible about the situation.
Yvette, Marie-Claire, and Jeanette were all asleep—Delphine was accustomed to being the last to go to bed at night, and she could tell when the other girls’ breathing had slowed enough. Soundlessly, she crept out of bed and unlocked the drawer in her desk, pulling out the thinnest one she had.
She’d gotten this one in year 8. How willing the older girls had been to lend a helping hand, she thought, running her finger familiarly over its blade.
Delphine slipped into the bathroom, closed the door silently, and leaned against it, exhaling finally. Her pajama pants slid easily off as she felt the familiar scars on her thin hips. Of course she wasn’t stupid enough to do her wrists.
One for each point off on that stupid test.
One for Luc.
One for each of those girls who harassed her, every single bloody day.