“This conversation is far from over,” Cam says.
“Okay, well, while we’re having this conversation, maybe you’d like to explain to me why you turned down the advanced graduate program in order to add me to your team,” I say.
His eyes widen.
“Cam, this is why I signed up to do torture training. Because I am on your team and we can’t afford for there to be secrets between us,” I say. “Now, let’s just go to class. We can finish this argument later.”
I start walking towards Mr. Brown’s class. It takes only a few seconds for Cam to start walking with me. I know it’s only because I’m not supposed to go anywhere alone, but I do feel better with him close by.
Maybe after I finish torture training, they will stop treating me like a case and start treating me like an equal.
Maybe someday.
The more I think about what was said this morning, the more confused and angry I get. Why would the guys turn down the chance to graduate early because of me? It doesn’t make any sense.
I’ve gone over it in my head a thousand times, but each time I get more and more frustrated. Even the guys have asked why I’m so quiet, but I don’t know what to say. I’m just in shock. I need answers.
Austin comes up to me after our last class, saying he will walk with me to dance.
I completely forgot we had dance on Tuesdays.
“Why do we have to take dance?” I ask. “I mean, how is this going to help us in the future? It seems pointless.”
“I suppose it seems that way. But learning how to control and move your body in different ways is good,” Austin answers. “Plus, there are cases where dancing has literally saved somebody’s life.”
“How?” I ask.
“A dance studio in Russia,” he answers. “It was a cover for a slavery network. They were taking young girls and selling them. A few agents got in there and took down the entire corporation. We rescued hundreds of girls.”
“That’s incredible,” I say.
“It’s what we do,” Austin says. “We save lives.”
“You know... I always thought I’d be a good CIA agent,” I say.
He laughs. “The CIA is a joke next to us. It’s American run. Spy School isn’t owned by any country. We’re independent, which means politics never get involved. There are no legal matters in the way. We get our job done, no questions asked.”
“Don’t we ever get in trouble?” I ask. “I mean, if we break laws?”
“Nah, most countries support us,” he says. “If they don’t, well, we don’t get caught.”
I laugh at his answer. Truly, it’s the most arrogant thing I’ve ever heard Austin says. He’s not an arrogant guy, but in this one case, I’ll let him get away with it. He has a right to. He’s good at what he does and he knows it.
He opens the door for me and I walk inside of the room where we are doing our dance class. The class is half the size it was last time—they moved Austin and me to the advanced class.
An hour later, I am actually sweaty and out of breath from the dancing. We’ve definitely advanced from the waltz. Austin, of course, has steady breaths, but he is sweaty. I lie down on the floor of the dance studio, just waiting for the beat of my heart to calm down.
“That was intense,” Austin says.
People around us are moving around, getting ready to leave the room.
“I always imagined that if I had gone to public school, I would’ve wanted to be on the dance team,” I say. “I think it would’ve been fun.”
“You’d have been cute in your little dance uniform,” he says.
I roll my eyes at him. “That is such a guy thing to say.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. His voice sounds different... higher... so I look up at him and see that his face is red.
“Oh, my goodness, Austin. Did I embarrass you?”
“What? No. Of course not,” he says. “Why would you think that?”
I laugh. “I’m kidding.”
“Oh,” he says.
I sit up now, facing towards him. “You know, we make a pretty good dance couple.”
“Only because you let me lead,” he says. “You trust me.”
“I trust you with my life,” I say. “Why would I not trust you when dancing?”
“A lot of the girls here have a problem with letting the guys lead,” Austin says. “It’s why this class lasts so long. Normally we’d learn some dances and move along if we’re not interested. But girls here have strong personalities and refuse to follow a guy.”
“They think submitting to a man while dancing makes them weak,” I say.
“I guess,” he says. “I’m just glad I’m with you. You’re strong, but you still let me take the lead on this.”
“Because that is how dance is supposed to be,” I say. “I think maybe they’re so wrapped up in trying to prove their dominance that they don’t realize it’s okay to be submissive sometimes.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve seen how my mom’s relationship with Brad is,” I say. “My mom has a very strong personality. Brad goes along with that for the most part. But when nobody is looking, I see how she is with him. She treats him like a king and in return, he treats her like a queen.”
“You deserve to be treated like a queen,” Austin says.
“Maybe someday,” I say.
“You said you’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
“Never.”
“Why not?” he asks. “I mean, you’re obviously beautiful.”
I look down, playing with my shoe string. I’m not sure how to answer his question.
Why haven’t I had a boyfriend?
I’ve been asked out on dates before. But never by anybody I would ever say yes to.
“I guess I didn’t want to settle,” I answer, finally looking up at him. “My friends all had boyfriends, but I swear it was a different guy every other week. I couldn’t keep up. And I guess I didn’t want to be like that... like them. I mean, I get the whole wanting a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day, I do. I just don’t want to waste my time with a guy I have lukewarm feelings for.”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he says.
“I see the way girls look at you here,” I say. “I’m sure it would be easy for you to get a girlfriend. Why haven’t you tried?”
“Maybe I’m just waiting on the right one.”
“Are you secretly a romantic, Austin Petrov?”
“Everything I learned, I learned from flirting one oh one,” he says.
I giggle.
Giggle! Like a twelve year old girl with a crush.
I hate myself right now.
“Zara, I...”
“Guys,” a voice says from behind.
I turn around and see Dylan stick his head in the doorway.
“Everybody is waiting on you,” Dylan says. “We’re supposed to head to Zach’s house to do our homework.”
“Right,” Austin says, standing up. After he’s up, he holds out a hand to help me.
One thing is certain—with all these guys around, I probably won’t ever get a boyfriend. They wouldn’t let another boy within one hundred feet of me.
Secrets.
Earlier with Austin, I forgot why I was mad at the guys. But now that I’m not looking into his blue-green eyes, I am once again reminded why I haven’t talked to the guys much today.
They lied to me.
Well, technically it wasn’t a lie, but they did keep information from me and I’m not about to let them get away with it.
When we get back to the house, Zach is out, which I expected. He had something he had to do today. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s stayed around this long. The guy is used to traveling a lot. Babysitting a teenaged girl is probably pretty boring for him, even if he is my dad.
Everybody sits at the dining room table, pulling out their books. I don’t move, though. Not yet. The guys immediately notice when I don’t get my books out.
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“What’s wrong?” Cam asks.
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to let them know that I mean business.
“Why didn’t you guys tell me that you had the opportunity to graduate early?” I ask.
“Who told her?” Tristan asks.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I say. “I overheard a conversation between Michael Sinclair and Ms. Schmidt. Don’t try to deny it.”
“That’s why you’ve been upset with us all day,” Stefan says.
I nod. “Because you guys withheld that information from me.”
“We did it to protect you,” Tristan says. “If you’d known, you would’ve thought you were holding us back.”
“Don’t tell me how I feel,” I say.
“Then how do you feel?” Cam asks.
I narrow my eyes at Tristan. “Like I’m holding you back. But don’t do that creepy reading my mind thing. I can speak for myself.”
“Then speak,” Tristan says. “Why are you so upset right now?”
“I’m mad because you didn’t tell me. I’m mad because I’m holding you back. And I’m really mad that you guys tried to stop me from signing up for torture training,” I say. “You had no right to interfere.”
“You’re right,” Cam says. “We didn’t have a right to try and stop you.”
“Then why did you?”
“We didn’t want to see you hurt,” Austin says.
It’s a sensible answer.
“Okay, fine,” I say. “Then answer this question—why did you turn down the opportunity to graduate early to stay here with me? In Tokyo... that mission... you guys were ready to stay. I wasn’t. Why are you letting me hold you back from everything?”
“You are incredible,” Dylan says. “There is nobody else at Spy School like you. Even if it sets us back slightly, in the end it will pay off, because you are going to be so good at this job. We knew that. We chose you.”
“You’re never a burden. Not to us,” Tristan says.
Their words make my heart beat faster.
These guys really do love me.
“I don’t want to keep having this conversation with you guys,” I say. “And I’m tired of secrets. So don’t keep things from me, especially not to spare my feelings. I want to know.”
“The reason we didn’t say anything is because we just met you,” Dylan says. “How could we explain what we gave up for you? You would’ve thought we were crazy.”
“A little,” I say. “What if I turned out to be a disappointment? What if I still do?”
“You won’t. It’s in your blood,” Cam says. “But even before we knew about Zach, we could see it. It’s obvious to anybody who watches you that you are meant to be here—maybe even more than anybody else.”
I have no idea how I got so lucky. How did these five guys choose me?
I’ve seen the other girls at school. They’re beautiful, smart, and driven. I’ve never seen any girl work as hard as the girls here do. In our physical education class, they fight just as hard as the guys. What they lack in strength compared to a guy, they make up for in cleverness and agility.
I look at Dylan. “Maybe the rest of them think that, but not you. When we met, my face was covered in blood because I couldn’t do a pushup. In fact, I think you said that since I was only ninety pounds, a push up shouldn’t be that hard.”
“You did not,” Tristan says, looking at Dylan.
Dylan has the audacity to laugh. “I did say that, and I stand by it. I know that you’re not strong physically. Your physical strength isn’t why we want you on our team.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “I’m smart. And pretty, or whatever.”
“Pretty or whatever?” Cam says, then laughs. “Is that what you think of yourself?”
“If you’ve ever been to LA, you’d see that I’m not as pretty as you think I am,” I say.
“It’s not your looks anyway. You could be as ugly as Austin and we’d still want you on the team,” Cam says.
“Hey,” Austin says.
“Shut up,” I say. “Austin is handsome.”
The guys all laugh, except Austin. His face turns red at my compliment.
“They’re just jealous,” I tell Austin. “You have this way of making everybody in a room fall in love with you without ever even speaking to you, not to mention your eyes. I still don’t know if they’re blue or green.”
“They change colors,” Austin says. “Technically they’re blue, so depending on the light and what I wear, they can look green.”
“A blonde haired, blue eyed girl is nothing unique in California,” I say. “Anybody with a good hairdresser can have my hair color.”
“But not everybody has your soul,” Stefan says.
I have no idea what to say to that.
“Let’s just do our homework,” I say, pulling out my books.
It makes me feel weird when they say such nice things about me. I’ve never been the kind of girl who needs compliments, and I don’t want to start being like that. If these guys see me as a strong woman, I will show them that I am. I will be the second female to ever survive torture training in this school and then our team will be unstoppable. I know it.
Black and white.
After we finish our homework and eat dinner, everybody but Austin leaves. They have assignments they have to work on that they need to be alone for. And I’m kind of glad. Being around them all is intense sometimes. It’s easier when I’m with them one-on-one.
We’re sitting in the living room. I know Zach doesn’t want me to have guys in my room. Actually, he doesn’t want me to be alone with just one guy ever, but there isn’t really anything we can do to help it. We’re busy at Spy School. Asking Austin to take time out of his day to babysit me is bad enough.
In Malibu, I never had rules. I could have boys in my room, not that I ever did. I didn’t have a curfew—not that I ever stayed out past eleven at night anyway. Jason didn’t have rules, either, and he always had girls over and stayed out all night. Nobody really cared, as long as Mom knew where he was and as long as he showed up for his baseball games.
I always wondered what Jason was doing. He liked girls and had a few girlfriends, but baseball was his everything. Even when he wasn’t playing, he was hanging out with members from his team. I once asked him, and he told me they were playing baseball at one o’clock in the morning. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. He’s gone far in life. You don’t make it to the pros unless you give up everything for the game. Even your family. I know that from experience.
My mom was wrong to cheat on my dad. I know that. But I also know that my dad ignored us a lot when he played ball. His sole focus was the game. It’s why he was so good at it—it was his life. It’s not a surprise that Jason followed in his footsteps.
Not that mom was any better. Her life revolved around movies. The reason she and Brad get along so well is because she married somebody just as obsessed as she is. The two of them are perfect together.
I wonder what it would’ve been like to have been raised knowing that Zach Stone is my dad. Would he have been the same as them? Obsessed with his career? I mean, he seems to be really good at his job. You don’t get that way unless you make some sacrifices—me being the sacrifice.
Maybe I’m just tired of always being the one sacrificed. For once in my life, I want somebody to choose me over everything else.
“There is something I’ve wanted to ask you,” I tell Austin.
“What is that?” he asks.
“I heard that you’re a really good thief,” I say.
“That’s not a question.”
“I know.”
“I am a good thief,” Austin says, then looks away from me. “Look, not everybody at this school has a happy or a good background. But we are all given the same opportunity here. We all get a fresh start. Our records are completely cleaned out and it’s like we’re a new person.”
“
Did your record need cleaning?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he answers. “When I was a kid, I did things that I’m not proud of. I was raised by a single mom. She never got to finish with Spy School because she was pregnant with me. But Michael Sinclair... he wouldn’t let her become nothing. He got her a job working as a cop in a small town. It’s the job she wanted. But money was tight. Even as she worked her way up through the ranks, we barely had enough money to pay rent and get food. I used to think the world owed me something.”
“I get why you felt that way,” I say.
“It doesn’t make it true,” he says. “Nobody owed me anything. I had a loving Mom, which is more than what most kids have. I got in trouble. I even spent a few nights in jail, per my mother’s request. One night, I was out walking the streets. We lived in a good neighborhood. It was safe. But this night... I saw a man get into an argument with his wife. They lived a few streets over. I knew them. The man was an alcoholic and his wife was in the hospital often, with mysterious bruises and occasionally a cracked rib. He was going at her. I was about to step in when she pulled out a gun. She shot him right in front of me. I was only twelve at the time, but that scared me straight.”
“And then two years later, you came here,” I say.
“Yes,” he says.
“What happened to the woman?” I ask.
“Because of my testimony, she walked free,” Austin says. “She moved away. I looked her up last year. She got married to this preacher and she had a kid. A little girl. From what I see on her social media, she’s pretty happy.”
“Good,” I say. “She deserves to be happy.”
“I agree,” he says. “Not everything is black and white, not always.”
“No, I know that,” I say.
“Not everybody would feel the same way as you... about the woman,” Austin says. “The lawyer tried to say murder is still murder. If she was capable of killing her own husband, who is to say she won’t kill again?”
“Her lawyer must’ve been an alpha male,” I say. “He was probably abusive to his wife too.”
He actually smiles. “You’re probably right.”
Toxic (The Zara Chronicles Book 3) Page 3
