Helen Hath No Fury (2000)
Helen Hath No Fury
“I turned and found an equally unfamiliar young man in front of me.
“Are you Miss Pepper? Are you a teacher at Philly Prep?” He was well dressed, in the sloppy way that well-dressed college-age kids can be these days. He didn’t look crazed or frightening. Off-putting, perhaps, because of the tilt of his stance, separating himself from me even as he introduced himself, and his barely contained expression of distaste.
“Why do you ask?” I put my door key between my middle and index fingers. It’s a handy weapon in that position. Just in case.
“My name is Ethan. I, um, know Petra. Does that answer?”
It certainly did. But my house? “What—how did you know where I—”
“Some girl named Bonnie who goes to Petra’s school. Where you teach, she said. She wouldn’t tell me her last name, or her phone number. But she gave me yours. I called and got your machine. Didn’t want to leave a message. She’s been driving me crazy the whole past week. She said she saw a list of the faculty addresses.
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