Secrecy: Olde Earth Academy: Year One

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Secrecy: Olde Earth Academy: Year One Page 14

by Amabel Daniels


  So I stared blank-faced, straight ahead, and replied calmly.

  After a moment, the mini cat-osaur stood on all four legs and cracked open its jaw. Showing me both rows of teeth and sounding off a nasty, warning hiss.

  Oh, come on. For real? Now?

  It closed its mouth and sat down.

  Right. These things were…attuned to me. It “heard” my thoughts, just like the lion-maned guard dog at the dorms and the longma I’d aided.

  “Layla?” Mr. Suthering asked me.

  Crap. I was still staring at him but distracted by the thing’s hissy growl. “No, I don’t see an issue with adding the Biology and Physics labs to next quarter. I look forward to it.”

  Too brown-nosey? Meh. I was excited to start hands-on learning.

  The mutant hybrid on the desk stood again and arched its back, bending into a ferocious and louder yowl at me.

  Sit down and be quiet, Cat Breath. Not now. Chill.

  Once again, it closed its mouth, retreated, and slinked over to the far-left corner of Mr. Suthering’s desk. Curling like a true mammal, it spiraled its iguana-ish body into a knot and lay down to rest.

  “The morning labs would be with who?” I asked Mr. Suthering.

  He’d ceased mid-sentence while explaining the addition of labs to my schedule. Instead of droning on, he sat there mute, staring down at the papers on his desk, like he’d forgotten his name or lost his chain of thought.

  “Mr. Suthering?”

  He looked up then and gave me a mix between a smile and a frown, interchanging opposite emotions. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Mr. Chan will explain the lab criteria.” He checked the time on his watch and faced me once more. “I’m afraid we’ll need to cut this short, Layla.”

  “Oh, no worries.” Thank God. No more questions.

  “We’ll be in touch, and of course, the best of luck in the next quarter.”

  No luck needed. It’s all a matter of hard work.

  I left his office, trying not to feel completely shooed out, and headed back to the dorms. On the walk back, I grinned to myself, feeling not only triumphant in my passing grades, but in my…er, handling of the creature on his desk.

  Layla, one. Cat Breath, zero.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One week after exams, it seemed as though everyone relaxed. No more pressure to study so much. Fewer worries about meeting project deadlines. Groups of classmates referred to movies and partying in the dorms—as much as possible without actually leaving them—and less to homework.

  I’d eased into the calm, so to say, maintaining my routine for the sake of comfort. Each morning I’d take off for my run and eventually meet up with the longma. I wasn’t entirely sure that was what it was, and with it still classified as a restricted species, I was without means to truly research it. Even generic Google searches came up with nil.

  As I increased my pace one morning, playing a bit of chase with the longma running beside and behind me, I grinned wide. It was like a dog. A large, horsey-faced, scaled panther of a pet. I’d always wanted pets, obviously. And now it seemed like I’d adopted one. My own mutant creature that never failed to run with me and watch my back.

  “Come on, buddy, come get me already,” I whispered under my breath, the morning breeze whipping the sound away from my lips before it could be heard. It could outrun me, so why wasn’t it charging to keep pace in this little sprint of tag?

  “Watch out!”

  Something barreled into me with that yell and I went crashing to the ground. Only, it wasn’t a simple fall to the earth. I’d been challenging the longma on a rockier part of the path. And whatever had tackled me pulled off damn near a body slam. It was an awkward somersault along rocks, dirt, and some evergreen saplings. Every inch of my skin felt bruised and battered, and I yelled out at the pain and shock of such a descent.

  After the momentum of the ambush faded, I lay on a softer yet solid surface. Skin. Warm body. Something breathing under me. Groaning. No, that was me making that noise. Ow. My knee. The potent fragrance of spruces burned my nostrils, the smell so strong with my face mashed against whatever I rested on.

  Spruces?

  A body?

  I pushed up, grimacing at the pain on my elbow and the sting of a scrape on my knee.

  “Flynn?”

  He winced underneath me. Realizing I was lying on top of him had me rushing to get on my feet.

  Oh, my God. I’d never ever been that close to a boy. And here I’d been straddling him!

  Which is his fault—

  With a jump that impressed me after our acrobatics on the ground, he got to his feet and shoved me behind him.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  I looked around for the longma, disoriented with the way Flynn had pushed me off the path. It stood a dozen paces away, its lowered forelegs indicating a pending pounce.

  No!

  It tilted its head.

  I trust him. Safe. You’re safe.

  It raised to stand normally again, still keeping its steady, bold stare on us humans.

  I trust him? Trust this boy who slammed into me? Maybe that’s a strong word. Yet I didn’t think he’d whip out a bow and arrow, though, or anything else nefarious.

  It’s okay, or it better be.

  Flynn blinked wildly and scanned our surroundings, almost as though he refused to look in the direction of the longma.

  “What is wrong with you?” I shoved at his chest, and he stumbled back a step.

  The longma swished its horsey tail.

  No, no threat. Calm down. I made a note not to push Flynn again, lest I confuse the poor animal.

  “I thought…” He inhaled a deep breath. “I thought you were running.”

  I gaped at him and brushed debris from my sweatshirt. Now that it was nearing winter, I always wore them. Plus a tiny package of gauze in the pocket, in case I encountered another animal injury in the wild. “I was running!”

  He leaned over to put his hands on his knees and winced while he caught his breath. “No. I thought you were running from something.”

  Why would he think that? I widened my gaze so much the cold air stung my eyeballs and made me tear up a little. He’d think that if he found me running with the longma on my heels.

  I shook my head a little. Was it possible he could see it too? “Flynn?”

  “Never mind.” He stood and frowned harshly. Glared at the ground. “Just never mind.” He’d nearly growled the words. Was mad at himself, or me?

  No, I couldn’t just never mind. It would make perfect sense if he thought he saw a huge, black scaled creature dashing through the woods after me.

  “But…”

  He brought his furious glare to me. “But nothing, Layla. Forget it. It’s nothing.” He surveyed our surroundings and skimmed right past where the longma was watching us from a distance.

  I kept silent as he regained his breath. Then he checked me out, frowning anew at the marks on my skin. “You’re, you’re bleeding.” He pointed at a scrape that had turned red on my knee.

  “It’ll be okay.” I was too afraid to goad him, to ask him exactly what he thought he saw. It was too similar to my own struggles, and with his obvious frustration, I could tell he wasn’t eager to explain himself. Like he was ashamed?

  “I just thought you might be in danger,” he said.

  I jerked my gaze back to his face, the question trapped in my throat. How could he think I was in danger unless he didn’t see the longma?

  He raised his brows. “Uh, just…because. I don’t know. You were running so fast. Like you were running away from something—someone.”

  “Fast?” I had to huff a laugh. “Are you trying to compliment me again?”

  His lips rose into the start of a smile, and he laughed once as well. “For a short girl, you do run f—”

  I shoved at him and he smiled fully. His dark blue eyes so clear and full of adventurous mischief until he froze. If I hadn’t been so close to him—again—and watching hi
m, I would have missed it. Yet for a breath, he’d stilled, that mirth gone as he ever-so-slightly glanced over my shoulder.

  I pretended to check the scrape on my knee, looking to my side and noticed the longma had taken a pounce-like pose again.

  Stop it. He’s not an enemy. You’re safe.

  At least, I was almost sure Flynn wasn’t a foe. He’d tackled me in the vein of “saving” me from a danger only he’d perceived. Which was…sweet? I was no damsel in distress with a freaking longma at my side. But I wasn’t at all sure how to ask him anything more on the chance of him being able to see the longma. How could I bring up my kind of craziness to another?

  “Well, now that I see you’re okay, I guess I’ll head back.”

  I sighed, nodding as I realized this run was done for the day. My injuries weren’t major, but I couldn’t have my buddy following me with Flynn in proximity. And why he was even here…

  “How come you’re out here to begin with?”

  He shrugged, showing me again a rare glimpse of his vulnerability, and said, “I asked Mrs. Possolo if I could try to start running to get in shape. Just an idea.”

  Uh-huh. Seemed too flimsy of an excuse. He already was in shape. Very much so, as I’d learned when I’d landed on him. Heat seared up my neck and I tugged at my earlobe.

  “Uh, let’s head back then.” I pointed to his shin that was muddied and scraped. “Clean up before classes.”

  He nodded and tried not to look in the longma’s direction. As an expert of hiding my own facial expressions, I knew what he was doing. Not looking but looking.

  I bent down to tie my already laced shoes and used it as a cover for meeting the longma’s gaze.

  Go on, buddy. I’m heading home. We’ll meet tomorrow.

  Without another look back, I returned to the dorms with Flynn.

  Chapter Twenty

  Instead of initiating another Flynn-cott after my “run-in”—or more like “run-over”—with Flynn, I tried to get close enough to basically stalk him. Having classes together made it much easier to be near him, but he apparently had another Layla-cott in mind. He avoided me at each turn, and even when Lorcan would suggest we all hang out in the cafeteria or library as a group, he’d opt out.

  I couldn’t figure out what his deal was. If he was embarrassed about thinking I was in danger and falsely saving me, then, okay. That was a normal, human reaction. But if there was a chance he’d seen the longma behind me and assumed it was chasing me, then maybe he was just at his wit’s end of being reluctant to tell me.

  A personal hell with which I was too familiar. I’d only just embraced the reality that I wasn’t nuts and that creatures like Cat Breath and the longma existed. Perhaps Flynn had yet to accept that in his life.

  Or, I’m just that desperate to not be alone. That eager to want someone else to get it. To get me.

  Paige’s observation of Flynn avoiding me had her going on about some unrequited love nonsense. It was so ridiculous I didn’t even entertain it. So when she angled toward me in Latin class, before the lesson started, I internally groaned at the anxious expression on her face. What, she has another outlandish doomsday theory of why I’ve lost all my chances of ever being Flynn’s girlfriend?

  “Layla,” she said in a whisper as she approached me. She slid into the seat next to me and leaned close. “Glo—”

  The bell trilled loud and clear.

  Mr. Souza did his little let’s-get-started dance jig and clapped his hands. “All right, all right. Let’s take our seats, please.”

  “What?” I whispered out the side of my mouth to Paige.

  Before she could answer, Mr. Souza’s tablet dinged a notification with the ringtone jingle of Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca.” He frowned and went to the device on his podium. Two swipes of his pinky finger and he twitched his lips to set his thin mustache curling up then dipping down.

  “Layla? Sabine?” He faced the classroom and beckoned us with a crooked finger.

  Oh, crap.

  Being called to the front was something I never experienced. I didn’t break rules to ever be singled out by a teacher. I gulped and pushed to stand. Was this what Paige was fretting about? Had she learned of something coming my way?

  Sabine sighed dramatically loudly and preceded me to Mr. Souza’s podium.

  Why me and Sabine? She was the one who usually got in trouble, so why was I lumped in with her? Nothing seemed right about this.

  Once we were both in front of him, he said, “The headmistress has requested to see you immediately.”

  Another gulp. My lungs rose and fell faster as my heartrate sped up.

  Why? What? Glorian? That was what Paige was trying to say. I glanced back at her, and her wide eyes and parted, downturned lips didn’t reassure me.

  Dammit. If she knew something was going down, why didn’t she give me a warning, more than a two-second warning?

  “Sure thing, Souza,” Sabine chirped.

  Wait. She seemed so prepared like she knew the chance of being called to the headmistress’s office was due. What did you do? I studied her as we left the room. If she did something to screw up our enrollment here, I’d never forgive her.

  Out in the empty hallway, I frowned at her. “What did you do?”

  She shrugged. God, she loved being perceived as a rebel so much she could only look like a wannabe badass. “Nothing much. What did you do?”

  I deadpanned at her.

  “Sneak out again?” she taunted.

  I shook my head. “No reason to.”

  She scoffed, “No reason? God, you’re so la—”

  “Lame. Yeah. Get a thesaurus, Sabine.”

  She smirked at me, her face remarkably similar to Cat Breath’s.

  All I knew was that I hadn’t done anything wrong. And if she hadn’t, why else would we be called to Glorian’s office together? Oh no!

  I gripped her elbow. “Oh, my God.”

  She stopped walking and faced me. “What?”

  “What if…” I swallowed hard. “What if something happened to Dad?”

  Her eyes widened, but then she shook her head, snatching her arm out of my grip. “I doubt it…”

  “The last time I got an email from him was yesterday morning.” He sent me one every other day, and I always replied right away. I even took the few seconds to read the inspirational quotes from famous plays that he added in the P.S.

  She nodded. “Me too.” Resuming our walk, she sashayed ahead. “Probably something else.”

  By the time we arrived at Glorian’s office, my heart was hammering, I feared I’d pass out, and my lips were dry. Sabine rolled her eyes at me, but there was no stopping my reaction. When I’d come to this wing last, I was scheduled to see Mr. Suthering with a purpose. Heading unexpectedly to Ren’s mother, a prim and prissy headmistress, I was terrified.

  “Layla, Sabine,” the secretary confirmed. “Please head into Headmistress’s office.” As we made to pass the secretary’s desk, she cleared her throat. “Your skirt?”

  Sabine grumbled yet unrolled her skirt to bring the hem to something at least a few inches closer to uniform protocol.

  The door was open, and Glorian stood from her desk as we entered. Unlike Mr. Suthering’s office just around the corner in this suite, Glorian’s space was so white it seemed sterile. No color, all clear, uncluttered surfaces of plain old blanco.

  “Ladies, please be seated.” She walked toward and past us, and then shut her door with a definite click.

  I was too scared to speak, but once Glorian returned and took her uncomfortable-looking chair at her desk, Sabine chirped, “So, what’s up?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Jeez. Can she try to have manners?

  “Yesterday morning, a faculty member found this while patrolling the perimeter fence.” She reached into her left desk drawer and extracted a large storage Ziploc bag. Inside, still very red, was the bloodied sweatshirt I’d used to tie around the longma’s limb.

&n
bsp; Sabine leaned forward, frowning at the bag.

  “This sweatshirt bears the name of your father’s alma mater and college fraternity. We’ve estimated the garment belongs to one of you.” She let the bag plop to her blinding white desktop, free of any papers. Shakespeare’s one eye winked at us from the folded logo on the fabric.

  Oh. Crap.

  “Are we correct to conclude this is one of yours?”

  Sabine shifted in her seat like she wanted to lean closer to the bag and inspect it, but she slouched back and slung one arm over the back of the chair. Man, was she good at posing confidence, or what? “Yeah. It’s mine.”

  Do not gasp. Do not blink. Just, stay…cool. I had no idea why the hell she’d cover for me. She’d always hated that sweatshirt and said I looked like a homeless freak when I wore it because it was too long on me.

  “Yours?” Glorian turned her unwavering stare to my sister.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Um, nut uh… I licked my lips, ready to set the record straight, as much as I could. If Mr. Suthering could say he was aware of everything, then what was there to say his female counterpart didn’t also know everything about what happened on campus? I didn’t want to be caught on this icy woman’s bad side.

  “And what happened to it?”

  Sabine shrugged her shoulder so high it was almost cartoonish. “Hell if I know.”

  “Language.”

  She smiled like a sweet little princess. “Heck if I know. Some junior dude from the Gold House wanted to borrow it when it was chilly, and that was the only thing I had that was big enough.”

  Glorian’s lips twisted down for a second. “A junior from the Gold House?”

  Sabine popped a bubble with her gum and nodded. “Uh-huh. He was walking me back to my room one night.” She huffed at the silence in the room. “Before curfew, of course.”

  “See that Bernadette doesn’t find you attempting to sneak out after curfew again, Sabine,” Glorian said.

  Please do not look at me. Maybe Sabine could hear my thoughts now as well, because she didn’t do something horribly bitchy like point at me and tell this woman that I had broken out once.

 

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