Ahead of me, a boy walked out of classroom 214, walking directly over the trail and then walking the handful of steps to his locker. He couldn’t see it, I realized. Whatever it was, only I could see it.
The trail led right into the gym.
I stopped at the open doorway. Inside, I could hear the basketball players bouncing basketballs, the soft whoosh of shots made. I glanced inside. The glowing trail led to the doorway on the other end of the gym leading to Room B—the fencing and weight training room. I swallowed hard. What did it mean?
“Hey.”
I spun around. Tina flinched, blinking rapidly as if I was going to whap her on the head. She was wearing extra eye shadow today for some reason and it made her face look dark and mysterious.
“You scared me,” I said.
She smiled. “That’s pretty weird, even for you, Alice.”
“Why are you wearing so much makeup?” I asked. “You’re going to sweat it all off during the exam.”
She shook her head. “I’m not taking the exam. I’m taking an F.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “Why? You’ve been doing better and better! You can at least get a C.”
She shrugged, staring down at the floor. For a moment, I thought she was looking at the glowing trail, but then her eyes shifted toward the boys playing basketball. “I can’t put up a fight against the boys. They’re too big. I’m sick of embarrassing myself. If I wanted to do that, I would have joined home ec so I could burn muffins.”
“Look,” I told her. “Why don’t you just trust me? I’ll be your coach. I’ll tell you exactly how to beat whatever guy you’re paired with.”
She didn’t respond. Tina, Tina, Tina. If there was one thing I learned early on in high school, it was that you couldn’t clam up. You go quiet, and the other students start to drift away. I didn’t need to help her. I didn’t really even want to all that badly. What I wanted was for her to realize she could be just as good as the boys.
“Look,” I said. “Just trust me on this. You’ll get at least a C. And if you fight Gregg, you’ll probably get a B. I know you can do this.”
Tina took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. I put a hand on her back and pushed her through the door into the gym. We walked across the basketball court and into Room B, where the red mats had already been laid out in the middle of the room by a sweaty Mr. Whitmann. The other students already had their white gear on and were sitting on the folding chairs beside the mat. Edward was there, spinning his foil on the ground. When he looked up and saw me, he smiled. I smiled back and walked toward him with the full intention of planting a wet one on the lips, then stopped in my tracks.
The glowing trail led directly to him.
“Hey,” Tina said, nudging my elbow. “Are you getting cold feet? Because if you are, then I’m getting out of here before Mr. Whitmann calls on me.”
“No,” I said, rubbing my eyes. The trail was still there when I opened them again. It led right to Edward’s feet. Up Edward’s feet! All the way to his face. His skin seemed to have just a hint of a golden glow, barely recognizable, but as I stepped cautiously forward I began to feel it radiating off of him. It felt warm and tingly.
“You two better change quick,” Edward said, standing up and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Hurry,” he whispered. “Mr. Whitmann isn’t in a good mood.”
I grabbed Tina’s hand and we took the two red uniform bags with our names on them into the girls’ locker room next to the basketball court. As we began the annoying process of fitting our chests into the plastic chest protectors—pink, by the way … as if the boys had blue plastic bras—Tina asked me about Edward.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
Tina dropped her jeans and slid into the white breeches. “Like, how far have you gone? He doesn’t tell anyone about you two. I know. I sit next to the cool kids’ table sometimes and totally eavesdrop.”
“He sits with them that often?” I asked. I swear I hadn’t known. I only had one lunch period with him per week and he always sat with us in-betweeners toward the back of the cafeteria. I mean, I knew he knew them, but I thought he sat with the track kids most of the time. They stuck together.
“Sometimes,” Tina said. She put on the plastron, which protects the more vulnerable sword arm side of the body. “Sometimes he just sits alone, too. He’s kinda weird.”
“So am I,” I said, strapping on my own plastron. It fit tight.
“I know. You’re a weird couple. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“We haven’t gone very far,” I said. I didn’t want to elaborate. “It’s just been tough finding time right now.”
“Do you love him?”
I thought about it for a moment. Did I? “I don’t know,” I said.
“How could you not know after, like, a year?”
“It hasn’t been a year. And besides, I like taking it nice and slow.”
“Is he your first boyfriend?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. She didn’t follow suit and I felt my face redden. I tried to backtrack: “Not that having a boyfriend in high school is always a blast, anyway. Heck, it can cause so much drama sometimes that it’s not even worth it. Plus, I only dated a little bit here and there. Nothing serious.”
She sighed, pulling up each of her socks. “You should talk to his cool friends more. You can do that, you know. Because you’re dating him.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “You go do it if you want to so bad.”
She laughed. “I can’t! I don’t know anyone in their clique. You have to know someone. That’s why they treat you differently. You have access.”
“OK,” I said. “I get it. I’m not utilizing my powers. Let’s just focus, please.”
We helped each other put on our white jackets, then grabbed our sword gloves.
“We’re ready,” I told her. “We can do this.”
“You can,” Tina said meekly.
We walked back into Room B. Mr. Whitmann was standing on the red mat and when he saw us, he gave a little nod. “Right,” he said. “Now that everyone’s finally here, we’re going to start. Everyone fights once. You’ll be graded on form, not who wins.” He smiled. “But I will make a note of who wins. For the record book.”
The boys laughed. I took a seat next to Edward, pretending to not feel the weird energy emanating from his body. He still had just a hint of a golden glow underneath his skin. I was either one step away from the crazy house, or the giant rabbit had been telling the truth.
Gawd, how many times has a sane person said something like that?
“Are you OK?” Edward asked, leaning in close so I could feel his hot breath on my ear.
“I’m fine,” I said. Just fine. You’re definitely not glowing, Edward.
Tina went second. Mr. Whitmann paired her with Gregg, the best luck she could possibly have. “Remember,” I told her, “he always stabs to the right. It’s his only move. Sidestep left, then stab.”
“Sidestep left,” Tina repeated, putting on her mask. She stood up and walked cautiously onto the red mat. Gregg was already waiting, swinging his foil in the air as if he was planning out a much more Hollywood-esque fight sequence.
“All right,” Mr. Whitmann said, grabbing his referee’s mask and putting it on. He looked funny, with his gut poking out of his red fencing jacket. It had obviously been fitted during his leaner years. “Gregg, no going easy on her because she’s a girl.”
“Yeah Gregg,” said one of the boys with a laugh. “You lose, you’re not coming out with us this weekend.”
Edward leaned over again. “You think she can do it?”
“I have no doubt,” I said. My urge was to lean away from him … why? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the glow had begun to make my stomach turn. Stop, I told myself. It’s just nerves. It’s just stress.
“Care to make it interesting?”
“Fine,” I said, watching Tina place her free hand behind her back and
cautiously lift her foil. “Name the stakes.”
“If Tina wins, I’ll take you out to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Milwaukee.”
“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow. “And what if Gregg wins?”
“You have to spend the night at my house. This weekend.”
I felt a cold current run through my body. Tina and Gregg began exchanging attacks, their foils clanging together. Click-click-click. Click-click-click.
“Point for Gregg,” Mr. Whitmann announced.
Tina stepped back to gather herself. Gregg spun around and carved a Z in the air, to thunderous applause from the other boys. They were going to throw a drinking party after exams were over—I knew it because that’s what they always did. They would invite Edward because he was cool. By extension, they would indirectly invite me.
“En guard!” Mr. Whitmann called out. Tina and Gregg went at it again, only this time when Gregg parried and made a stab, Tina hopped left. It was such an awkward movement that she nearly fell over. But she kept her balance, extending the tip of her foil and stabbing Gregg’s rib.
“Point Tina,” Mr. Whitmann said with a whistle. “Mmm-hmmm. That was a fine attack.”
“Come on, Gregg!” said one of the boys. “Don’t go down like a sissy!”
Gregg attacked before Mr. Whitmann could even say “En guard,” sending Tina tumbling back as she tried to parry his wild stabbing motions. She tripped on her feet and fell right on her butt, much to the consternation of her classmates.
“No point,” Mr. Whitmann announced. “No touch.” He held out a hand to Tina. “Come on, girl. You’ve got this.”
Tina let him pull her up. She got into position again, holding out her foil.
“Now let me clear the mat this time,” Mr. Whitmann snapped at Gregg, waddling away from the two white-clad warriors. “En guard!”
They went at each other again. The boys were cheering for Gregg so I cheered louder for Tina. Edward joined in, encouraging Tina with a humorous chant. First one stabbed while the other parried, and then the dancers switched positions. Their foils clicked together again and again and again. The more Tina parried, the harder Gregg’s thrusts became. He was getting upset. Anxious. He’d begun trying to adjust his motions so Tina couldn’t stab at his left side again. Now was the perfect time to strike.
“Go right!” I called out. “Tina, go right!”
Tina did so, narrowly missing Gregg’s stab. She parried his foil, then quickly stabbed at his ribs.
I cheered. The boys laughed. “Winner!” Mr. Whitmann announced, grabbing Tina’s free hand. Gregg took of his mask and threw it on the ground.
“Part of earning a good grade,” Mr. Whitmann said, “is understanding how to lose. Gregg, you just failed that part of the class. Pick up the mask.”
There were more catcalls from the boys as Gregg sulked his way over toward Edward to pick up the mask, which had rolled to the edge of the mat. Mr. Whitmann was still holding Tina’s arm up. “The other part of earning a good grade is showing improvement,” he said. “And Tina aced that one.”
Edward and I cheered. The other boys clapped quietly.
“Next up is Edward and Alice,” Mr. Whitmann announced.
My heart sank. Oh no, I thought. Not him. Not now, while I was in this crazy mood. We hadn’t sparred since the first class, back when we’d only been dating for a few months, back when I still got butterflies in my stomach every time I saw him. Back when I thought he was the boy of my dreams. I still felt that way though … didn’t I?
He was still glowing.
“Same bet?” he asked me with a smile, grabbing the mask from Gregg.
I took Tina’s mask, smiling at her as she sat down beside me and wiped the sweat from her brow. “No,” I said.
“Last time we sparred, you won.”
I stood up, pulling my red glove tight before picking up my foil. “Last time, you let me win.”
“This time I won’t be so kind,” he said, following me to the mat. Maybe it was just my imagination—maybe it was the same craziness that was causing him to glow—but I could have sworn I heard something sinister in his voice.
We took our places. Through the mesh of the mask, I studied Edward’s posture. He carried himself with grace. His long legs bent at the knees like a panther ready to pounce. I looked down. The glowing trail had followed him to the mat.
“En guard!” Mr. Whitmann cried out. Immediately Edward lunged forward, stabbing at me with precise movements. I parried, stepping back, trying to read his shoulders to see where he would strike next. He hid his next move, stepping forward, stepping back, shifting his posture ever so slightly so when I began attacking I was immediately off-balance and had to adjust my weight.
The tip of his foil came at me again and again and I parried as best I could. His movements began to blur together in my vision. Then I felt it: the tip pressed against my chest.
“Point for Edward,” Mr. Whitmann announced.
The boys cheered. “Regain our honor, dude!” one of them cried out.
“You can do it, Alice!” Tina said.
“En guard!” came Mr. Whitmann’s war cry once again.
I stepped forward, trying to take the offensive, but Edward slipped by, side-stepping his way around the mat as he parried my blows. The boys made a unanimous “Oooooooh” sound through pursed lips. No one side-stepped. We hadn’t been taught that. He was using the entire mat.
“No fair,” I muttered through the black mesh, trying my best to turn my feet while still keeping pressure on him. Even if he didn’t parry my attacks at all, the tip of my foil wouldn’t touch his jacket. He was moving too quickly, too fluidly, his legs carefully following a complex dance routine that only he knew.
We made a complete circle. I shouted in frustration, trying once more to press the attack. My shoulder was becoming sore. I could feel my lungs aching. I could smell my peppermint-scented breath inside the mask.
Then he attacked again. Suddenly, my weight was back on my heels. I parried as hard as I could, angrily deflecting each precise stab.
“Fight back!” Tina shouted.
“Get her!” the boys responded.
I took another step back and felt the ground give way as my foot slipped off the mat. I fell backward, landing gracelessly on the weight room’s carpeted floor. Right on my butt.
“Ring out,” Mr. Whitmann said. “Point to Edward.” He took off his mask, the usual stern expression replaced by surprise. “Excellent job. The both of you.”
Edward took off his mask, smiling. The glow was still there, just underneath his skin.
We took Seth and Tricia home once again, only this time I was in the front seat. I’d made a deliberate point of looking over my shoulder on the way out of school, curious to see if the trail would follow us. It did. More specifically, it followed Edward.
Now, it was following us behind the car. And my stomach felt worse.
“I can’t believe the literature test Mr. David gave us,” Tricia said from the back seat. “I’m so glad I don’t have to see that scumbucket for three months. Seriously? Who the hell memorizes every single character from A Tale of Two Cities?”
“It’s a good book,” I said to her. “Did you actually read it?”
Tricia, ever the cosmopolitan, shook her head as she responded to an incoming text message on her phone. “Well, a little.”
“It’s really a good book.”
“She’s right,” said Edward. “If you get halfway through, you’ll want to finish the rest in one sitting.”
“I doubt that,” Tricia muttered.
“Does it come in text form?” Seth asked, laughing. “Because then Trish could definitely finish it.”
I laughed. “I’ll text her one line at a time.”
Trish looked up from her phone, glaring at us. “Please do not.”
“All right, kids,” Edward said. “Let’s take it easy.”
“Right, right,” Seth said. I felt his leg press up again
st the back of my seat. “Are you guys going to Bruiser’s party this weekend?”
Edward shrugged. “He does throw fun parties. It’s up to Alice.”
“I start my volunteering for real tomorrow,” I said. “I’m not up to it.”
“You don’t have to drink,” Tricia said. She put her phone in her purse. “Some of the people there don’t drink.”
“Yeah but they’re kinda losers,” Seth added.
Tricia slapped him on the arm. “Don’t call Alice a loser.”
“I didn’t!” he said. “I just pointed out a shared quality among those who refuse to indulge in libations.”
“Since when are you all wordy?” Tricia asked with a frown.
“Hey, I’m going to college in another year. I gotta start faking it now.”
“Have you applied anywhere, Edward?” Tricia asked.
He shook his head, turning into the subdivision I shared with Seth. “Hasn’t really occurred to me just yet.”
“Come to Grant College,” Seth told him. “That’s where me and Alice are going for sure. It’s perfect. It’s out in New York, so you’re away from family. But it’s still a short flight home, too. Plus it’s New York.”
“Alice is too smart for Grant College,” Tricia said. “She’ll go to NYU with me.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t know …”
“Grant College is fine,” Seth said defensively. “Lots of smart people go there.”
“No,” Tricia said. “No they don’t, dear.”
“Grant College has a pretty campus,” I said. “I like that.”
“No,” Tricia said. “You’re not going there.”
“We’ll see.”
Edward parked at Seth’s house. “Off you go.”
I turned and gave them a wave goodbye. Seth looked dour. He wanted to go to Grant College. He wanted to go to a lot of colleges, but Grant was the only one he’d be able to get into.
The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 1 Page 5
