I handpicked this outfit for tonight, she thought irritably. A long-sleeved, off-the-shoulder, form-fitting, blood-red mini dress with red tights and black thigh-high boots. The dress played up her smooth, shoulder-length white-blonde hair and highlighted her fair complexion. Van thought the outfit made her look older than her fifteen years, and she hadn’t been sure her stepmother would let her wear it out of the Manor. Genie had commented that Van was dressed “dangerously close to a trollop,” but she’d said it with a closed-lip grin and let her go. Genie understood that Van’s appearance played an important role in her top social standing at Canterbury Bells Charter School.
After a few playful punches, Ken and his pals started throwing stones at the sign and daring one another to cross the boundary line. The latter act would get any of them permanently banished from their small island off the coast of Massachusetts.
Providence Island had two sides: the townie side and the reservation.
Since the Native Island tribe owned and partly occupied the island, the government considered the whole island a sovereign nation with the ability to govern itself.
Van and her father had been tribal residents from birth, and Genie was by marriage, but they lived just outside the boundary line on the townie side with the nontribal residents and the other Native Islanders who had children.
Childless Native Islanders, including the Elders, occupied the reservation. The Elders controlled and regulated everything on the island. Children and all nontribal members needed permission by an Elder to enter the reservation.
Ken and his friends knew this. The idiots.
Now that Van thought about it, she didn’t care for the tone of Ken’s remark concerning her father. Everyone on the island knew Michael Cross worked long hours at an important job with the Elders, in a division of Homeland Security called the Grigori. This special unit worked with the mainland’s government and often took her father away from home.
Van didn’t understand her father’s work. No one outside the reservation did. She only knew what her father told her: the Grigori made up “an elite tactical unit of safety enforcement.” Her father had been reassigned to the field in the last year, which kept him away from home more than ever. As usual, his job had probably made him miss the placement ceremony.
Van stood within the bonfire’s illumination. Ken caught her eye and smiled, his white teeth flashing through the dark night. “Loosen up and have some fun!” he yelled.
Van caught herself frowning, something she tried to avoid; she didn’t want to get frown lines. She ran her fingers over her hair and smiled back at Ken. He had a good point. Tonight marked the beginning of Jaychund, a thirty-day celebration of the moon particular to the Native Islanders.
The first night of Jaychund meant school had let out for summer. The Games—sporting events that accounted for the last part of final exams for kids in high school—were over. Earlier in the day, during the placement ceremony, students had received the trophies they’d earned during the Games, and teachers assigned the undergrads their placement tracks for the next school year and awarded seniors their permanent career placements. Now, the best part of the tradition happened—at night, after the end of ceremonial formalities, all of the teenagers met secretly at Astrid’s Hollow to party around a bonfire. Then tomorrow, the islanders would continue the celebration with a two-day festival.
Van always looked forward to the island’s annual celebration of Jaychund. She found comfort in the ancient tribal traditions but felt awkward admitting this to her friends, who thought all celebrations organized by the Elders were lame.
Suddenly, a group of freshmen buzzed around her.
“Oh, Van, I love that dress,” said one girl. Named Jade, maybe? “Is that from Ropa Moda?”
Van had a cool reputation to maintain and forced herself to be unenthusiastic over their arrival. Though she did love the attention.
“It’s from off-island.” Van said, loftily. “Genie buys all my clothes in downtown Boston.” She felt better about herself after reminding them that she could afford to shop there. Well, her parents could, anyway.
“Your hair looks amazing, Van,” said another girl. “Gotta love Miss Nutting and the Naked Ape, right?”
Van eyed the girl up and down, sure that she lived in Community Gardens, a place the islanders had nicknamed Hide-a-Way. Van considered that part of the island a shantytown.
“How long have you been going there?” Van asked, knowing perfectly well the girl couldn’t afford the Naked Ape. Then she felt an immediate pang of regret that worsened as she acknowledged the girl’s weak chin and split ends.
“Did you hear the rumors?” a third girl asked, eager to please.
Van felt so distracted by this girl’s mismatched nightmare of an outfit, she almost didn’t catch what the girl had said. However, the words registered, and Van perked up. Gossip was like currency on the small island. She raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
Thrilled at the show of interest, the girl babbled on. “The Elders are looking for some kids to help with a project off-island!”
“Away for the whole summer,” said another girl, who had a distracting upturned nose.
“Pernilla won every event in her own year and every All-Grades event, except Capture the Flag,” said the girl from Hide-a-Way. She grinned, acknowledging Van’s achievement, then continued. “Pernilla will get chosen for the project, for sure.”
“I heard she was sick for months before the Games,” said the girl with the mismatched outfit. “Almost wasn't able to compete.”
“She obviously got better,” Van said sourly. She didn’t appreciate how no one ever seemed impressed with her accomplishments. She had placed first in her year and had won the All-Grades trophy for Capture the Flag as a sophomore—that was something, too. Why wasn’t everyone talking about her?
“I overheard the Elders call Pernilla a ‘special case,’” said the girl from Hide-a-Way. “What do you think it means?”
Van shrugged. “It’s the first time a junior has placed number one overall in the Games.”
Or it could be that Pernilla always seemed a bit different, being a strange ethnic mix of Native American and Native Islander. Her light blue eyes, courtesy of the Native Islanders, combined with the naturally tan skin of the mainland’s Native Americans and thick, wavy, light brown hair. She was a striking contrast to her predominantly fair-skinned, blonde, blue-eyed peers. She attracted all of the boys, and she was Van’s biggest competition for their attention.
“Who cares about Pernilla?” Jade gushed. “Oh, Van, you will so get chosen.”
“The Elders love you,” said the girl with the nose, whooshing her hand in a gesture that said, “No worries.”
The others girls bobbed their heads up and down like marionettes.
Van felt as if they were placating her. Now, she was irritated. She looked down her nose at Jade. “Not interested. I have other plans for summer.”
They acted like Pernilla had earned a place on the project and Van hadn’t but would get the placement anyway because of her family’s high status. Well, Pernilla could have the project. Van had no desire to leave the island anyway. She had been off-island as required for school field trips and had found the mainland crowded with angry, violent people. Ignorant, too. They often referred to Providence Island as “that cult,” because the Elders restricted residents’ use of the Internet and TV and because the island had too much interference for smartphone reception. Van didn’t care for any of the newest technologies. She believed the gadgets took people away from nature and limited their human interaction. She also considered it absurd that the mainlanders didn’t have specialized testing or the Games in their high schools. How did the students choose their best career path? Maybe confusion about what to do with their lives contributed to their poor attitudes. Van shrugged. She had no desire to mingle with the mainlanders.
Besides, she looked forward to bumming around on the beach all summer with K
en and her best friend, Paley Ash. She felt annoyed at the freshman for even suggesting she work during break.
Ken appeared, jarring Van from her thoughts. He’d evidently overheard their conversation. “You’ll get chosen for the project, Van, like it or not. The Elders favor the kids in the Reservation Program. Which means you.”
Van belonged to handful of kids selected for extra classes that took place on the reservation, in addition to regular classes at Canterbury Bells. The kids in the special classes were superior athletes and the only students allowed to compete in the Jaychund Games before entering high school. Pernilla excelled in athletics but, oddly, had never been placed in the Reservation Program.
“Hey, guys,” said a superficially cheery voice.
Arriving like a bad rash, Pernilla intruded into their circle, attached at the elbow to her best friend, Maren.
“Flotsam,” Van greeted Pernilla, then nodded at Maren. “Jetsam.”
“Van’s in the Reservation Program because she needs special attention,” Pernilla chided, “being a bit slow in the head and all.”
“Excuse me?” Van said defensively.
“That’s why they never placed me in the program,” Pernilla said. “I was too smart.”
“Take it easy, Pernilla,” Ken said, then turned to Van. “Let’s go.”
“I was here first. I’m not going anywhere,” Van said stubbornly. “Tell her to leave.”
“No way,” Pernilla snapped.
Ken grasped Pernilla’s elbow. “Come on,” he said, pulling her away.
Van heard him angrily whisper, “Why are you bothering Van?” It seemed a bit too intimate a question for casual friends. Her curiosity was piqued, as her stomach tumbled.
Maren stood firm and glared at Van, who scowled back.
“I think it best you go take care of your friend,” Van told Maren.
Maren took the hint. She tossed her head and went to rejoin the party.
“Don’t listen to Pernilla,” Jade said. “Special doesn’t mean remedial.”
Van never thought it had, until now. She remembered being a slow learner as a child, but she’d struggled due to frequent illness. The special classes made her feel better, healthier; they helped her gain physical strength and enabled her to be as smart as everyone else.
“Have you seen Paley?” Van asked, missing the company of her best friend since nursery school.
“She’s probably out trolling for guys,” said the girl with the nose, smirking.
The other girls giggled unkindly.
“Paley is still your favorite charity case, huh?” Jade asked Van.
Van could barely hear Jade above the rising human howls echoing throughout the woods. Islanders traditionally howled at the moon at midnight during Jaychund.
Once the noise quieted, Van said in defense of her friend, “She got a job at the Naked Ape—got special permission from the Elders. She’s a contributor, just like the rest of us.”
People saw Paley, an orphan, as a drain on the island’s resources, because she didn’t have a family to contribute to the island’s economy and therefore didn’t deserve anything. But Van never felt that way about Paley.
“Ah-woo!” Whump!
Smothered by pudgy softness, hyacinth scent, and clouds of highlighted blonde hair, Van hugged her friend back. “Paley!”
After they disentangled, Van inspected Paley’s outfit and exclaimed, “You look so nice!”
Jade eyed Paley’s bolero jacket, silk shirt, ankle boots, and beautifully manicured hands. “Van’s right, you do look good. How come?”
Paley’s shoulders slumped.
Obviously jealous, the girl with the mismatched outfit asked, “Van picked it out and bought it for you, didn’t she?” She and her friends turned up their noses and wandered back to mingle in the party.
Van’s heart bled for the pain these jerks caused Paley. She was glad to see them go.
“Let’s go find Ken,” Van suggested, hoping to break Paley’s sullen mood, brought on by the freshman. Van had last seen Ken pulling Pernilla away, followed by Maren. Now, as Maren chatted with a few other girls from her own year, Pernilla wasn’t with her.
Van and Paley went off to search the party.
Then, in the trees alongside the clearing, they saw Pernilla making out with some guy, not even troubling to move out of the moonlight. Van’s heart froze.
The two figures separated.
Van gasped.
Ken, hearing her involuntary reaction, looked over, with the expression of a thief caught in a searchlight.
Van stormed away through the crowd, clipping anyone in her way.
“Hey!” Ken shouted. He caught up with Van, grabbed her by the arm, and twisted her toward him. “I can explain!”
“Ouch!” Van said furiously. “Let go of me!”
Ken relaxed his grip but held firm. “It was an accident.”
“What happened? Did you fall on her face?” Van yanked her arm out of his grip.
“I, uh—”
“Does anyone else know? Did anyone but us see you?”
Ken’s lips formed a stern line. “You care more about what other people think, not that I kissed another girl?”
“I—I’m mad at both,” Van said, confused. “I don’t want anyone to know because it’s embarrassing.”
Pernilla appeared next to Ken and butted in. “I want people to know.”
“Nilla, please,” Ken said in a strained voice.
“Nilla? Nilla?” Van screeched, feeling like she would puke. “You have a cute little nickname for her?”
“No, NO!” Pernilla stomped forward. Ken grabbed at her, but she jerked free and stuck her face in Van’s. “I’m sick of pussyfooting around her.”
“Oh, you better get out of my face, girl,” warned Van.
Paley watched the altercation, nervously shifting from foot to foot, her face pale even for someone with a booth-made tan.
Ken stood like a lump, looking terrified.
Pernilla’s face contorted. Her hands curled into claws. She raised them, settling into the familiar fighter’s stance. “No one likes you or that weird flash of violet you get in your eyes,” Pernilla roared. “Your family is rich. That’s your only skill. No one wants to be friends with you. Our parents make us be nice to you, under orders by the Elders.”
Maren edged her way behind Pernilla, her eyes wide. “Pernilla, let’s go,” she urged.
Pernilla ignored Maren and continued to growl at Van. “You’re a pathetic waste of space. Being in special classes doesn’t even help you. You’re such a baby. Still slow and weak. Everyone but you grew out of that.”
“Your reasoning’s flawed, just like your skin,” Van said viciously. “I get good grades. I’m placed on the reservation track!”
“Even Paley has started to earn what she has,” hissed Pernilla. “But you—you get special treatment from the Elders. Because of your mother!”
“Leave my family out of this!” Van snarled. She bent down and snatched a stray branch off the ground. Pernilla had intentionally used the word mother, rather than stepmother, startling Van. The Elders had forbidden everyone on the island from talking about Aelia.
“Take it easy, Van,” Paley said, trembling.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Van snapped at Paley. She gripped the branch like a weapon and held a steady gaze on Pernilla.
Pernilla took a few steps back, still crouched in a defensive stance. “You’re handed everything because of your family name. You never earned a thing. Not your placement. Not your grades—”
“I won an All-Grades trophy in the Games this year!”
“The Games were fixed.”
“Nilla!” Ken objected.
Pernilla’s only saying that because she wants Ken, Van thought. It doesn’t make it true. She gave the branch a menacing twirl.
“Hey—Van—put that down!” Ken said.
Van ignored him and whirled the branch with savage satisfaction, taunti
ng Pernilla. Knowing how to fight came from Van’s special classes. It was something she never thought she would use in real life.
The party died. Everyone crowded around Van and Pernilla, but not a peep came from the onlookers.
Ken moved between the girls, his arms spread. “Pernilla,” Ken said in a serious tone. “You need to leave, now.”
“Oh, how cute, your other trophy is trying to help,” spat Pernilla. “You didn’t earn him, either.”
All of Van’s classmates in her year, including Paley, came forward out of the crowd and surrounded Van, ready to aid her defense.
Pernilla hesitated but didn’t stand down. She glared at Van, curling and uncurling her hands. Several of her friends, including Maren, gathered behind Pernilla in a show of solidarity.
After a long moment of strained tension, Pernilla lunged forward.
Woooot woot! A siren from an Island Security buggy tore through the night. The noise stopped the altercation and made the crowd scatter.
Van dropped the stick, as a spotlight lit the darkness like the morning sun. Oh, this isn’t good, she thought. Unauthorized party in a restricted area, potential fight—both were against the rules.
A security guard leaped from the buggy and hollered, “Vanessa Cross! I need to see Vanessa Cross! Now!”
CHAPTER THREE
Day 1: 12:45 a.m., Earth World
Paley raised her hand to shade her eyes from the light and whispered to Van, “There’s no way security would’ve known about the fight, unless they had monitored us the whole time.”
“Break it up,” blasted a gruff voice over the buggy’s loudspeaker, although the crowd had already started to disperse when the buggy erupted from the woods. Only Van, Paley, and Ken remained in the clearing.
A large, stocky man jumped out of the buggy and approached Van.
“Vanessa,” Chief Mumford said, with a sigh of relief. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” All of the people on the townie side knew one another, and Van had grown used to the adults being hyper-protective of her. She figured it was out of respect for her real mother, who had been loved by all. The community considered Aelia’s death a tragic loss.
Shock of Fate: A Young Adult Fantasy Adventure (Anchoress Series Book 1) Page 2
