Ghost Bird: The Academy Omnibus Part 1: Books One - Four

by C. L. Stone

  “Mr. Coleman. Mr. Griffin. Come with me, please?”

  I caught Gabriel’s eyes. He shifted a shrug toward me. They walked off together and Mr. Hendricks led them out of the gym.

  The moment they were gone, I fished my cell phone out from my bra.

  Sang: Nathan and Gabriel were escorted out of gym class just now with Mr. Hendricks. They don’t have their cell phones on them so they can’t call. Should I do something?

  Blackbourne: They’ll be fine. We’ll take it from here.

  A female voice spoke behind me. “Something wrong?”

  I turned. Karen knelt next to me. Her pixie cut brown hair was a little mussed from our earlier warm up exercises. Her gym T-shirt seemed to have shrunk, and it fit snuggly on her slim figure.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I think.”

  “Your friends get called up to the office a lot,” Karen said.

  That part wasn’t too surprising. “Do you share classes with them?”

  “A couple,” she said. She brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “They’re polite enough, but they’re usually really reserved. Unless they have to talk to me, they generally don’t.”

  I was surprised to hear this. I figured they weren’t actively social. Mr. Blackbourne had told them all to blend in, but don’t get too close to anyone. It was just another reminder of their selective nature, I supposed. “It’s not you,” I said, trying to sound supportive and come up with a reason why they were so odd. “I think it’s the uniforms. They get a lot of negative attention already. I’m already in the mix, but I don’t think they want anyone else getting picked on.”

  Karen smirked softly. “They’re very mindful. I almost thought they were worried you would be jealous.”

  A fluttering started in my belly and I flinched in surprise. “Jealous?”

  Karen’s smile warmed. “Wouldn’t you be if another girl was talking to one of them?”

  The idea seemed silly. “Of course not,” I said, although I uttered the words without conviction. I’d felt something like jealousy at the party when Jade, the raven-haired girl, had talked to North and then tried to get him into the closet with her. I didn’t want to think that was the same thing as someone like Karen talking to them.

  Or was it? Was that why she didn't approach until after the guys left? She talked to me during class when the girls were separated. Today she was talking to other girls. I didn’t think anything of it until now.

  Karen tilted her head. “Which one are you dating, anyway? I can’t figure it out. Or are you still convinced you’re just friends with them?”

  It was confusing and complicated to me. Was I still supposed to pretend to be dating Silas? I couldn’t think of an answer so I opted to deflect with a laugh. “Why? Interested in dating them?”

  Karen grinned. “Sweetie, they aren’t my type. Although I’ve heard more than a few girls asking the same question. They’re trying to find out which one you’re dating so they could ask the other guys.”

  I waved my hand in the air as if this wasn’t important, even though my heart was pounding. Were girls asking them out? Have they been dating around? “They’re always so busy; I can’t imagine when they would find the time.”

  Karen’s eyes lit up. “You little heartbreaker. You do like them all.”

  My mouth popped open. “What?”

  “You’re as green as grass. How’d you do it? You’re dating all of them, aren’t you?”

  “That’s not really ... I don’t ...”

  She leaned over more, placing a gentle set of fingers on my forearm. Her tone wasn’t suggestive or ugly at all. She seemed genuinely curious and amused, in a good way. “You told me before you’ve never dated anyone.”

  I nodded. “Before I came here, most people ignored me.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” she said. “But now you’re dating seven guys, and at the same time.”

  My breath quickened and my face radiated heat. “I don’t know how it happened,” I confessed. Maybe I should talk to someone. The guys were confusing me. Karen was another girl and I was sure since she was pretty that she must have dated, at least a little. She seemed very nice, too. Maybe she could help me figure this out. “To be honest, I think I’m in over my head.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Karen said, softening her voice, too, to not be overheard. “How are they not jealous over each other?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, relieved she seemed willing to talk about this with me without judging. “One day they started holding my hand. The next thing I knew, they were asking me out on dates. Only, when I’ve actually gone out, I’m not with one of them, I’m usually with two or more.”

  “Well, there’s dating and then there’s being a boyfriend,” she said. “Have any of them asked you to commit?”

  “Not really,” I said. “They only seem jealous and uncomfortable if guys outside of the group start talking to me.”

  She pressed a palm to her cheek. “I don’t know if I should be jealous of you or feel pity. How do you keep up with them?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Have any of them kissed you yet?”

  I blushed. “Not on the lips.”

  Her eyes widened. “What about that rumor going around about you and North?”

  “He kissed my hand in front of my mouth. He didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, so he said he wanted to wait.”

  “Aw! That’s romantic. But he hasn’t done it yet?”

  “No.”

  She flashed a smile. “Do you want them to?”

  I shrugged, biting my lip. I didn’t really know the answer to that. “I keep thinking if one did, it’d make it more complicated or they would get jealous.”

  “That’s a pretty crazy problem to have. If you’re that worried, why don’t you pick someone? Tell one of them you’d like to date him and tell the others to back off?”

  Was that what I was supposed to do? It seemed like a simple enough explanation. “I don’t know how to choose.”

  She smiled sympathetically. “You’re afraid of making the wrong choice.”

  She said it so easily. It was true. Also, how could I choose between them? They all seemed perfect. “Is that common?”

  She shrugged. “It happens.”

  “So what should I do?” I asked, my eyes wide.

  Karen laughed softly. “I don’t want to tell you what to do.”

  “I could use advice, if you have any.”

  She traced her finger over her lower lip as if thinking. “Well, if you’re not sure, you should take your time with it. Get to know them up close and personal. I mean, I guess that’s what dating is all about. You don’t have to commit and probably shouldn’t until you’re pretty sure you want to.”

  “I guess I worry they will get jealous eventually. They’re all friends. I don’t want to make them fight or anything.”

  “What can you do? I mean it’s their choice, right? They don’t have to date you.”

  That might have been part of the answer. They did have a choice, too, didn’t they? Figuring out what they really wanted from me was what confused me.

  Karen flicked a finger across her brow. “So if they know you are dating each of them and are okay with that, you shouldn’t worry, either. Not unless you’re unhappy.”

  “They’re really nice,” I said.

  “There’s a lot of nice people.” Her smile brightened. “Boy, for someone who has never dated before, you are sure in a pickle of a problem.”

  I laughed, pushing a palm against my forehead. “It was kind of an accident.”

  The coaches whistled at everyone, announcing we should go ahead and change. We still had twenty minutes before the end of class, so we had plenty of time, but Nathan and Gabriel hadn’t returned, and I wondered what Mr. Hendricks had them doing.

  I walked quietly back to the locker room with Karen. I was feeling better after talking with her. Maybe the guys were righ
t to say I should stop worrying so much. Dating wasn’t a commitment. After all, in the books I read, people went out on several dates before they asked someone to go steady. Maybe I was overreacting.

  I opened my locker, removed the clothes I was going to wear home and padded over to the bathroom stalls to change. I wasn’t overly modest around the other girls, but I had to use the restroom and wanted to accomplish two things at once.

  When I returned, a collection of girls stood together in the middle of the locker aisles, and they were all talking in loud voices.

  I spotted Karen standing away from the group and I approached her side. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Some stuff is missing,” she said, concern etched on her face. “We’ve got a thief among us.”

  “It was my favorite bracelet. My dad gave it to me,” one of the girls spoke over the others.

  “My brand new tennis shoes are gone!”

  I stood by, stunned and unsure of what to do. I tried to think of what was in my own locker that someone might be interested in taking, but with the cluster of girls huddled in the area, I couldn’t get to it.

  “Girls!” Coach French showed up, looking peeved that she had to intervene. “Why is everyone shouting?”

  “Our stuff is missing.”

  The other girls started talking at once. They were relaying the list of items that appeared to be stolen.

  “Okay, okay,” Coach French said. “Listen up everyone. All of you girls, go back there,” she said, pointing over to the unused shower room. “No one leaves. I’m going to call in some help. We’re going to talk to everyone individually and inspect lockers.”

  My hand fluttered to the phone in my bra, but I stopped short of removing it. I was worried maybe the violin or something else might have been taken, but if it was, it wasn’t enough to call up the guys about right now. They couldn’t just walk in and take over.

  I marched with the others toward the open shower room. The showers overhead rattled me, and I felt my stomach starting to churn like I did every time I thought of taking a shower instead of a bath. My mind flashed with images of being tied to the stool in the shower by my mother. I swallowed my fears and willed myself to remain calm. The showers weren’t on and knowing I didn’t have to take one relieved some of my shaking, but only just.

  There was only one open archway that lead in, so someone couldn’t duck out and run away. The old beige tiles were heavily cracked, and the room was heady with must. No one used the showers since we were given so little time before the bell rang to change, and we were the last class. One could simply go home and shower when they got there, so using the dingy old showers wasn’t a big deal.

  I hid my hands behind my back to mask my shaking fingers. I didn’t want to appear so nervous.

  Karen glanced down at me. “You look pale. Are you okay?”

  I swallowed again, trying to come up with something honest I could tell to her that would make sense. It wasn’t like I could tell her about my shower phobia. “I didn’t look before, but I was wondering if my violin was still there.”

  Karen nodded. “I was thinking of that. I left my cell phone in my locker. I hope it’s still there. I don’t want to have to pay a couple hundred dollars for another one.”

  I was sharing my sympathy, crossing my fingers that neither of us had stuff missing. I was hoping this would get resolved quickly.

  We all seemed to be holding our breath, waiting to overhear, but the murmur of adult voices, what we suspected were the other coaches, weren’t easy to listen in on. The voices reverberated against the walls and they were speaking too low.

  Coach French appeared in the archway of the shower room. “Emily Adams. Come with me, please?”

  I shoved a finger to my lip. One by one, the girls were called out, and they didn’t return. Soon, Coach French didn’t come back, but simply shouted out a name from deeper in the locker rooms. That girl would leave alone to face off with the coaches.

  Our numbers dwindled. Karen left, her name called halfway down the list. I thought at first Coach was calling us alphabetically but at some point, I ended up alone with another girl in the class and I knew I wasn’t that low on the alphabetical list.

  Coach French appeared in the archway, looking annoyed and tired. “Just checking to see how many we had left. Sharon?” she asked.

  The other girl nodded, following Coach French into the locker room.

  This was too strange. Why was I last? Before, with other people in the shower room, it hadn’t been too bad. Now alone, I had nothing to look at except the shower heads and the drains. A wave of lightheadedness swept over me, but I forced my teeth down on my tongue, willing myself to remain strong. I had to focus. I’d get called up soon. My fingers hovered over the phone in my bra again, but since the bell hadn’t sounded yet for dismissal, I was sure everyone else was in class.

  Minutes passed. No one called for me. What was going on?

  Coach French’s murmuring voice, along with a couple of male voices, echoed back to me.

  I sucked in a breath, thinking of Mr. Blackbourne. I pulled my phone from my bra, found his app on my phone. My finger hovered over the white button. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about. I didn’t steal anything, but I was uncomfortable. I hated the thought of calling on him if this turned out to not be a big deal.

  His voice echoed through my head.

  We will come for you every time, for any reason. Until the day you tell us to stop, we will always be right behind you.

  I swallowed, hitting the white button and hoping I was doing the right thing.

  “Miss Sang Sorenson,” a familiar voice had me jumping.

  I dropped the phone at my feet. It bounced off of one corner of the case and slid across the floor.

  Mr. McCoy’s swollen figure lumbered in the archway. His watery eyes narrowed on me and his bristling mustache twitched under his nose. “So you’re our thief.”

  I took a step back, putting up my hands in a defensive stance. Where were the other coaches? “What do you mean? I didn’t take anything.”

  “You’re the last one, and everyone else was clean.”

  “Check my locker,” I said. “I don’t have anything that belongs to other people.”

  “You could have easily gotten one of those accomplices to help you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  He smirked, taking a step forward. “Wouldn’t you?”

  A rattling echo sounded. My phone was vibrating.

  I inched closer to the phone to pick it up.

  “Don’t move,” Mr. McCoy said, his crackling voice full of warning. He walked over to the phone, bending over to collect it from the tiles. He turned it around to look at the face. From the distance, I could tell the screen was cracked.

  My heart thundered.

  Mr. McCoy flicked through the phone. “Calling for help, huh?” He smirked, typing in a message with his thumbs. “Mr. Blackbourne wants to know where you are. I’ll tell him you’re going home, so he won’t bother stepping in this time.”

  My skin crawled. I had orders, I reminded myself. Avoid McCoy at all costs. Even if he wants me to stay, find Mr. Blackbourne’s office and lock myself in.

  I side stepped toward the wall, trying to take a wide berth around him to avoid getting in arm’s reach. I clenched my fists, holding them to my thighs as I walked.

  Mr. McCoy lunged over, taking up the space in front of me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I aimed to duck under his arm, but he shoved his body to block.

  “Let me go,” I said, in what I hoped was a tone that would make him realize I’d do whatever it took to get out of there.

  “Do you think you can walk out of here? I’ve caught you red-handed stealing from other girls.”

  “You have no proof,” I said. “You’re assuming.”

  “My logical conclusions are rarely wrong.”

  I turned again, trying to get around him on the other side.
His hand shot out to the center of my chest and he shoved.

  I hadn’t been expecting it and I fell back, landing hard against the tile on my butt. A sharp pain radiated from my tailbone. Did it crack again?

  I forced myself up, jumping to my feet and backing away, holding my hands up. “Let me go,” I said, in a voice as loud as I could muster.

  McCoy grinned in a way that made my skin crawl. “Did you think you could walk out of here? What did you assume would happen? I would forget about it? I could call the police right now and have you arrested for being a thief.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  He sputtered. “What?”

  “Why haven’t you called the police?” I asked. I was tired of this, tired of him. He had spooked me before when he had grabbed me in the hallway. This time, I knew what I was supposed to do. My heart still thundered in my chest, but my mouth flew open. “That’s what you want from me, right? You want to get rid of me? Here’s your perfect excuse. Call the police. Use my phone, if you’d like.”

  He smirked. “You’re trying to dare me?”

  “I don’t think you’ve got any evidence. You just want to intimidate me. Why? What interest is it to you what I do?”

  He frowned, held my cell phone out in front of him and dropped it to the floor. Another crack echoed through the shower room. He staggered forward, pointing a chubby finger toward me. “Listen to me, Miss Sang. You are a conniving little girl and no one will believe you for a minute. I’ve been at this school for twenty years. You’ve been caught stealing. Not to mention all the trouble you’ve been in since you first started here.” He took another step forward, within arm’s length now. His eyes lowered from my face to my chest. “I’m doing you a favor. Cooperate and I won’t call the police.”

  “I said call them,” I urged, although with less conviction this time. I backed up until I met with the shower wall.

  He grunted, and lifted a hand toward my face, his fingers an inch away from my nose.

  In a panic, I struck out, swiping away his hand. I wasn’t thinking, only reacting. My brain wasn’t working enough to tell me what to do. All I knew was here was the vice principal telling me I was in trouble.