by Inara Scott
Black hair, silver eyes, smile lurking at the corner of his mouth.
Helping me over the Wall at orientation. Laughing with me during ethics.
Doing chemistry homework together in the commons.
Jack.
“Hey,” I gulped, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
He chuckled. “Not much. Have a good night?”
“Parts were good. Where are you?”
“I move around,” he said. “I can’t say more than that.”
I had to force myself to breathe. All I could think of was the Watchers and their guns. “Are you safe?”
I could imagine the little ironic grin as he spoke. “As much as I’ll ever be. How about you? What’s Button-Down up to these days?”
Despite everything, I had to laugh. Jack was the one who had coined the name Button-Down for the dictator-in-training who shared my room. “Catherine’s her usual self. She reinforced the tape dividing our closet just last week. Hennie thinks there’s something going on with her parents. She’s been particularly mean lately.”
Jack snorted. “You can tell the difference?”
“I guess I’ve actually been feeling sorry for her,” I said.
“That is strange. Everything else okay? Is it different now that you know their secret?”
The last time I had seen Jack, he had just uncovered the truth about the Program. But I couldn’t be sure how much he understood about the Watchers and the Governing Council. So, while I wanted to tell him about everything—Initiation, classes with Mr. Fritz, and Barrett—I knew I couldn’t.
Instead, I mentioned the one thing I figured was safe to complain about. “I think Anna’s spying on me. But it’s just her, not the other guys.”
Jack made a sound of disgust. “Don’t be too sure.”
“I’m probably just being paranoid.”
“You’re away from the windows, right? Not in the living room, I hope?”
“I’m in the bathroom.”
“Good. Sit on the floor,” he instructed. “By the door.”
I did as he said, crossing my legs in front of me. “Jack, what’s going on?”
“You need to get out,” he said.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall. “We’ve been through this. I don’t want to get out. I want to learn from them.”
“They’re not what you think.”
“Neither are the people you’re mixed up with,” I said.
There was silence.
“What do you know about us?” he asked.
“That you’re called the Irin,” I said, “and you’re dangerous.”
“Do you want to know who Ethan was?”
“No.”
“He was a student at Delcroix who was too powerful, so they killed him. They claimed he was unstable and committed suicide, but he had a twin sister who refused to believe their lies. That’s how the Seattle group got started. She knew what the Watchers were capable of, and she wanted to protect people like her brother. People like me. People who would be dead if they didn’t have someone to help them.”
I held my hand in front of my eyes, wishing I could wipe away the picture he’d drawn in my mind. “I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, you do.”
I swallowed hard. “I have to go, Jack.”
“There are stories like Ethan’s all over the world. They say it’s all for good, but it’s still killing, Dancia. They’ll try to make you believe they’re right and we’re wrong, but the lines aren’t that clear. They want power just like we do. We just don’t fool ourselves into thinking that we’re doing it for some noble purpose.”
That was all I could handle. “I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have called. I’ve got to go.”
“Don’t let them do this to you,” he said. “They’ll eat you alive. You’ll start to believe them, and then it will be too late.”
“Good-bye, Jack,” I whispered. “Be careful.”
I shut the phone. The screen went blank, but two words stayed lodged in my mind.
Ethan Hannigan.
Why couldn’t I have left well enough alone?
I rode the Silver Bullet to school Monday with only a few other freshmen and none of the upperclassmen. Most people stayed at school over the weekends now, even Hennie and Esther. With spring break only a few weeks away, everyone had exams coming up and nobody wanted to waste time traveling. The only ones who went home were freshman who lived in or around Seattle.
Well, freshmen from Seattle and Catherine, to be precise. Catherine’s parents flew her home to California every weekend. This, despite the fact that they were rarely home themselves.
I walked around school that morning in a daze, seeing Watchers and the Irin in every corner. One of the art classes had put up a new photography exhibit in the front hall over the weekend, and it seemed half the school was crowding in front of the pictures. They were weird and artsy—pictures of old cars, parking lots, and chain-link fences. I didn’t understand those pictures any better than I understood anything else at Delcroix, and I couldn’t fight the mix of frustration and sadness I felt with every image I saw. I had no idea whom I could trust and who was lying, but I feared the answers were “no one” and “everyone.”
I expected Esther to pounce on me as soon as I got to school, but I didn’t see her until chemistry. When I arrived at class she was sitting in the back row, pulling homework out of her backpack.
I used to sit in the last row with Jack. We’d started passing notes to each other the first week of school. When he left, Esther moved next to me, which was fun but not nearly as helpful. Esther and I passed notes about boys, our horrible hair, and our teacher’s questionable fashion sense. When Jack and I had passed notes, it was actually about class.
Jack loved chemistry. He didn’t like to admit it, but he did. I guess that made sense, given that he was an Earth Talent, like me and Barrett. Jack had the power to change states of matter—liquid to gas, solid to liquid. We’d talked once about his turning a person into a gas. He’d said he’d never tried it because he wasn’t sure if he could reassemble them in the same exact shape they’d been when he started.
What if he tried it now? What if the Irin made him do it?
Hennie sat in the front of the class, four rows ahead of us, her hair in a long shiny braid down her back. She said if she sat next to us, we would get her into trouble. Still, she wasn’t too scared to lean against Yashir, who sat on her left, and whisper while our teacher’s back was turned.
I plopped down into the seat next to Esther and opened my notebook. Mr. Abbas started right in on Boyle’s law, his notes projected onto the screen in front of the class. Jack would have been thrilled. He’d started studying Boyle’s law back in September.
I stabbed the paper with my pencil and scowled. I had to stop thinking about Jack.
Esther sighed and stretched, dropping a note on the floor behind my desk. I waited for a few seconds and then turned around to extract my textbook from my backpack. While doing so, I snagged the note.
Trevor blew me off.
I paused and shot her a quick glance. Her usual smile had been wiped off her face, and her dark eyes radiated despair. She looked just like Greta Garbo, whom she’d been studying in her acting class. Her usually unruly hair fell from her face in smooth waves, and her lips formed a perfect red bow.
What happened? Did you make some kind of move on him?
I threw the note back in her direction.
We dutifully nodded and gave Mr. Abbas our full attention as he faced the room, then hurriedly passed another round of notes as soon as his back was turned.
I saw him in the cafeteria on Saturday, and he kept looking at me. Then in the library he sat across the table from me. We talked for a little while and I was super excited and then he got a text and that was it. He practically got up midsentence and left me there. I saw him walk out with Anna, so I know it wasn’t anything important. In English today he said he had a meeting a
nd was sorry for walking out on me. But I know he was lying! What meeting could he have had with Anna that was so important?!
I raised my hand and answered a question to show Mr. Abbas I was paying attention. I got the answer wrong, but he was one of those teachers who always wanted to build your self-esteem, so he was nice about it. When he turned to Hennie to get the correct answer, I scribbled a response and slid the note back to Esther.
I’m sure he wouldn’t have lied to you.
I had a feeling I knew exactly what Trevor’s meeting was about, but I still wanted to wring his neck. I didn’t want to think he was deliberately trying to hurt her, but it was hard to believe he was oblivious to what she must have thought.
Esther sighed deeply and turned to face me. She seemed close to tears. “I asked him if he wanted to get together after school today,” she whispered, “but he said he was busy and probably would be for the next couple of weeks. He’s just trying to avoid me. It’s obvious.”
Mr. Abbas cleared his throat, and we set our pencils back to paper. I wondered what Trevor and Anna talked about over the weekend. I would have bet that Trevor was busy with something to do with the Irin.
As soon as class ended, I jumped up, reached out my hand, and pulled Esther to a standing position. Gently, I shook her by the shoulders, relieved to have something to think about besides my new obsession with the Irin. “Never fear, you will love again, darling.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll never find anyone to love me back. I’ve lost my touch. I’m a has-been.”
I rolled my eyes at all the drama. “Oh, please, Esther, you’re getting carried away, aren’t you?”
If she was kidding, she masked it well. Tears pooled in her eyes, and I could see beyond a doubt that it wasn’t an act.
She jammed her notebook into her bag. “All I know is that ever since we started school, I’ve been rejected by every boy I even think about liking.”
Hennie and Yashir walked up, holding hands and looking particularly cute—tiny Hennie, with her pink turtleneck sweater and matching headband, and gangly Yashir, dreadlocks strewn around his shoulders, hoops dangling from his nose and ears.
Yashir took in Esther’s appearance; he paid extra attention to her face. “That’s trippy,” he observed. “You don’t look like yourself. You feelin’ okay?”
“She’s heartbroken,” Hennie said.
“Great,” Esther said, pulling a lock of hair free from the strap of her backpack and letting it fall over one shoulder. “The last thing I need is for everyone to know about it.”
Yashir squinted. “What shouldn’t I know about?”
“It’s a girl thing,” Hennie said to Yashir. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Yashir shook his head. “You all make my head spin. See you at lunch, Hennie?” He tugged gently on her braid and touched the tip of her nose.
She nodded, a goofy grin lingering on her face as she watched him walk down the hall.
I grabbed Esther’s hand. “You need to shake yourself out of this. You’re blowing it all out of proportion. We’re talking about Trevor, remember? The guy who never smiles?”
“I’ve seen him smile,” Esther said, a little of the color returning to her face.
“Maybe once or twice. But not on a regular basis.”
“He’s wicked smart, and he loves books,” she rejoined. “We worked on a project together in our AP English class and got along great. He just looks scary. Deep down, he’s a sweet guy.”
I stifled a groan. “He isn’t the right guy for you, Esther.”
“Neither is anyone else, apparently.”
“You’re just having a dry spell,” I said. “There’s nothing to be worried about. Right, Hennie?”
It took Hennie a moment to realize we were waiting for a response, because she was still staring at Yashir. Or rather, at the spot where Yashir had been. “Huh?”
“We’re talking about Esther’s dry spell,” I repeated. “I’m saying she’s got nothing to worry about. There are tons of guys at Delcroix. She just hasn’t met the right one yet.”
Hennie fell into step beside us as we started toward the stairwell. The halls were a tangle of people moving between classes, and we had to duck around the edges to keep moving. The high ceilings worked like an echo chamber, and you’d think you were in the middle of some huge auditorium, instead of a hallway in a school of fewer than two hundred students. “Esther, you make people laugh and feel good about themselves,” said Hennie. “It’s inevitable that some guy is going to fall for you.”
“I notice you didn’t say anything about how I look,” she said, smoothing her hair behind her ears. “Next thing I know you’re going to tell me I have a good personality. Like that’s suppose to make me feel better.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re like a movie star, with those enormous eyes and that gorgeous hair. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s always telling us how friends grow into boyfriends? You’ve got tons of guy friends. I’m sure someday one of them will want something more.”
“None of this helps,” Esther said. “You’re just convincing me that I’m right. Everyone sees me as just a friend.”
“All I’m saying is that you should let things be for a little while,” Hennie continued. “It will all work out. By spring break, everyone will be falling all over themselves to get their chance at you.”
Esther didn’t respond. She gazed down the hall, lost in thought. Then she stopped suddenly. “I’ve got it.”
“What?” I asked, tugging Hennie closer to me to keep her from whacking one of the seniors with her backpack.
“I need a makeover. New hair, makeup, clothes…I’ll be reborn as the girl people want to date instead of the girl they want for their best friend.”
I started to raise my hand in protest, but she didn’t notice.
“You said it yourself, Hennie,” she said. “They think I’m a better friend than girlfriend. So I’ll have to change their mind about that. The only question is what I want to be. Biker chick? Vamp? Cheerleader? What do you think?”
“I say you just be y—” I began.
She put her hands over her ears. “Don’t say it!”
“Yourself,” I said.
“That’s the problem,” she said, deflated. “I don’t know who that is anymore.”
Hennie and I exchanged a worried glance.
She pulled us toward her and said in a low voice, “It’s not natural, the way I can become someone else.” She held out a lock of her hair, which had started to curl as she spoke. “See?
It’s spooky. Sometimes I think there is no real me, and acting is all I can do.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Hennie said, though she eyed the curl nervously, as if Esther held a snake between her palms.
“It’s the truth. I act like everyone’s best friend, and suddenly that’s all I am. Maybe it’s time I started using that to my advantage. Who says I shouldn’t act like a bombshell?” The curl loosened and fell over her eyes in a sultry wave. “I can do sexy, you know?”
Hennie put her hand on Esther’s forearm. “It’s just your hair, Esther. Not you. You’re upset about Trevor and it’s making everything seem crazy. You’ll feel better in a week or so. I know it.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said, digging her hands deep in her pockets as she continued down the hall. Hennie and I hurried to catch up. “You’ve got a super boyfriend, and so does Dancia. I’ve got nothing but an uncanny ability to imitate people. Everyone in my acting class says it’s an amazing gift and I’m such a genius, but then they turn around and avoid me. I feel like a freak.”
Her words were painfully familiar. How many times over the years had I thought that same thing? I put my hand on her shoulder and forced her to come to a stop. “You’re not a freak. Your acting is a gift. It’s part of who you are.”
“That’s right,” Hennie chimed in. “You understand other people well enough to act like them. Lots of people would love
to have that ability.”
Esther’s chin trembled. “They can have it. I’m tired of sticking out. My teacher keeps pushing me to do more, to get deeper into my characters, and it just makes it worse. My focus classes are more depressing every day. It seems like the minute I relax, they’re putting some new ‘challenge’ in front of me, and I’m changing into someone new. I wish they’d just leave me alone and let me be normal for once.”
Luckily, Hennie responded to that one, because I had to struggle to keep my mouth shut. The truth seared me—the truth about Esther’s gift and the way the teachers were molding and developing it, despite all the pain they were causing. And now I was letting her feel that pain, just as Cam had let me feel my pain the semester before.
But I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t tell her anything.
“Esther, you know nobody around here is normal,” Hennie said. “People think I’m weird because I learn languages so quickly. The other day, I heard An speaking in Mandarin and I actually understood her. And I’ve only been taking lessons for a few months! My teachers keep talking to me in languages I don’t know and asking me to try to figure out what they’re saying. Half the time I can actually do it. If you’re a freak, then I’m one, too.”
I should have been expecting it, but Hennie’s admission hit me just as hard as Esther’s. They were pushing her, too. Was she Level Three already? Could Cam see her talent marks when he walked down the hall?
“At least you’ve got a useful gift,” Esther said. “All I can do is pretend to be someone I’m not.”
Hennie’s voice softened. “Well, we know who you are. You’re Esther Racowitz. You’re funny and charming, and everyone loves you because you’re so easy to talk to. We’re your best friends, and we believe in you, even if you don’t.”
“Whatever.” Esther pushed her curls back behind her ears. “I’ve got to get to English. I’ll see you guys later.” She walked away, oblivious of the interested stares she attracted as she made her way down the hall.
