There we were, all of us, staring at the cough drop, me damp with panic and pit stains, Mary Kate with her arms still wrapped around the wheezing, trembling vice-principal, like they were posing for the world’s worst prom photo. Carefully, she let go of him and withdrew her arms in the slowest, most uncomfortable way possible, like a socially awkward sloth.

After we’d all sat down again, Brother John had brought the vice-principal a cup of water and he’d taken several slow sips, he seemed to look at us in a new way. And, by that, I mean his socially awkward self actually made eye contact: he looked at Mary Kate for a long moment, then me.

‘Obviously, I believe all things are in the hands of … our Lord God.’ He raised his eyes briefly towards the ceiling. ‘And therefore I cannot believe it was an accident that you two were in my office this afternoon. It is clear you are quick-thinking young women, of good judgment …’

(He looked more at Mary Kate when he said that, but that’s fair.)

‘And therefore … I believe you can be trusted to go ahead with this project,’ he said, then added quickly, ‘with the modifications Ms Reagan suggested, of course.’

Silent, still in shock, we stood up at the same time. After we left his office, we stopped and stood on the fifth-floor landing and stared at each other. Mary Kate’s brown eyes were in full Bambi-in-headlights mode. She looked down at her hands and I saw they were trembling violently. Then I looked down at my hands and saw they were trembling violently.

‘You saved his life, Mary Kate!’ I said in astonishment. ‘How did you know how to do that?’

‘I did it once before,’ she said, sounding dazed. ‘I used to babysit this hyper kid who was addicted to Sour Skittles.’

We just stood there, looking at each other for another minute, as if in gratitude for life itself, then turned and slowly started down the five flights of stairs.

13

The school semester was in full swing now, and all of St Mary’s was buzzing about one thing. (Unfortunately, it was not The Non-Vagina Monologues; without the key word, it lacked a bit of pizzazz.) One larger-than-life zeitgeist figure dominated every conversation: Dominic LeClair, the Toothless Beast.

Who was Dominic LeClair? The star hockey player of St Luke’s Catholic Boarding School – St Mary’s biggest hockey rival. St Luke’s was an all-boys’ school, a super-harsh and competitive one where guys were always getting busted for throwing weaklings into an icy river and causing them to almost die of hypothermia. Last year, they beat us in the varsity hockey championship, and there was one reason why: an amazing freshman hockey player from Quebec named Dominic LeClair.