Alphas #1
Page 8
“You want me to tattle?”
Shira reclined into in her black shock chair. It hissed and then acquiesced. “Tattle is such a childish word. I’m asking you to educate me”—she grin-paused—“the way I’ve offered to educate you.”
“Offered?” Charlie shook her head in disbelief, the picture becoming HD clear. If Darwin and Bee were the price of admission, this was the first tuition bill.
“Come on, Charlie Brown-nose. These girls aren’t your friends. You know that.”
Charlie’s cheeks burned with shame. “If you know all this, why do you need me?”
“There are blind spots,” Shira explained, shutting off the video. “And I need someone I can trust.”
“You promised to treat me like the other girls.”
“I promised to let you into Alpha Academy. Nothing more.” Shira gave her a too bad you didn’t read the fine print leer.
Shira was trusted by billions. She ran Female Empowerment Workshops, funded girls’ scholarships, backed women-owned start-ups. But for all her success and generosity, Shira didn’t have any real girlfriends. She’d always said that friendship was the only luxury she couldn’t afford. But just because something was beyond Shira’s price point didn’t mean it had to be out of Charlie’s. And just like that, she felt the tide of anger ebb and her sense of power flow. Shira needed her.
“I won’t do it. A true alpha doesn’t step on others when climbing to the top. She doesn’t have to.” Charlie chin-pointed to on the copy of Audacity: The Shira Brazille Story on the floating shelf behind her desk. “Page five hundred twenty-seven.”
Shira blinked. Once, twice, three times. Then a soothing British-accented voice sounded throughout the campus. “First period commences in thirty minutes.” Charlie fought back a wave of homesickness. The voice was her mother’s.
Shira cleared her throat. “Better go put on your uniform.” She lifted a gold stick off her desk and began twirling it over her thumb like a mini baton. The skeleton key unlocked every door on campus, including the underground passages, which provided a stealth way for Shira to traverse the campus. If only Charlie knew a way to lock her in there for good.
Charlie stood, slightly dizzy. “Sorry. I wish I could help,” she tried, not wanting to burn the only bridge that connected her to Darwin. She backed toward the exit.
“But you can.” Shira slammed the key on her desk, somewhere between Brisbane and Barossa Valley. “You have until noon today to give me a name.”
“What if I can’t?” Charlie asked, her palms pressed against the doorframe.
“There’s no can’t in ‘alpha.’ Just a-ha!” Shira smirked. “Page forty-nine.” She pressed a button near the Great Barrier Reef and the door began to lower. “G’day.”
Charlie managed to slip out just before it sliced her head off. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for Shira.
9
JACKIE O
BATHROOM
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH
7:00 A.M.
Allie faced one of the five pendant mirrors in the Jackie O bathroom. Being the fairest of them all used to be the only thing she wanted. But staying up all night trying to write a song for Darwin had made her want to trade a little of that beauty for the talent Allie J had. She hadn’t even been able to make it through the chorus before running out of words that rhymed with Brazille.
Leaning in, she inspected her roots. She’d washed a little Allie J away in the shower this morning, but her part was still intact. Beneath the mirror, the glass sink was filled with fakeover beauty products and concealed with a towel.
“First period commences in thirty minutes,” announced a British woman’s voice.
A chorus of sleepy moans came from the bedroom.
“The future starts when we wake up in the morning,” Thalia chirped. “Does anyone know who said that?”
“You?” mumbled Skye, her eyes probably still closed.
The other girls giggled lazily.
“Miles Davis,” Thalia announced with vim.
Allie hurried through the rest of her fakeover regimen before the other girls stormed in.
Mole? Check. Green contacts? Check. Blond roots covered? Check. Bare feet? Unfortunately, check.
The girls rushed in, wrapped in matching bathrobes and displaying various stages of hair trauma. Skye’s blond curls were now bed-dreads, and Renee’s pink updo was a down-don’t. Triple’s long straight extensions were still perfectly intact, just like the rest of her.
“Where’s Charlie?” Allie asked, suddenly terrified she was hiding in one of the stalls, watching her transformation. She had seemed suspicious.
“No clue.” Skye splashed water on her face. “She was gone when we woke up.”
“Perhaps she had an unfortunate accident with some shaving cream.” Renee lifted an eyebrow and tapped her chin, playing the villainess.
Skye giggled. Allie J wanted to. But she was too paranoid. Had Charlie heard her showering at six fifteen? Smelled the toxic traces of black hair dye? Noticed that her left contact had gone AWOL on the floor for at least six minutes?
One by one, Triple kicked open the five stalls, toes pointed, legs straight. “Nope. Not in there. Maybe she’s turning us in?”
Skye, Renee, and Allie exchanged a terrified glance. But so far there had been no word of the beach-breach. And if everything stayed that way, they could go for round two tonight.
“Hey Triple, how long have you had back problems?” Skye asked with a mouth full of toothpaste.
“I don’t have back problems.” Triple sauntered to her sink.
“Oh.” Skye spit. “I thought, you know, ’cause your line is a little off. Sorry.” She spit again. “My bad.”
Suddenly, Shira’s face appeared in their mirrors. Her auburn hair was in a sleek ponytail, her black glasses firmly in position.
“Ahhhhhhh!” they all screamed.
“G’day,” she snickered. “No need to panic.”
Allie waved her hand in front of the glass, wondering if Shira could actually see them. But Shira didn’t wave back. Instead, she cleared her throat and continued.
“William Shakespeare once said, ‘We know what we are, but know not what we may be.’ Well, what you may be starts today.”
“Is she looking at us?” Skye asked, finger-combing her hair.
“Doubt it,” Allie scoffed, pretending she hadn’t just wondered the same thing.
“Your schedules, like your meals, have been tailored to maximize your potential. At Alphas, I expect you to hone your talents, but also to stretch in ways you’d never imagined.”
“No problem there,” Triple grunted, lifting her leg over her head.
Skye rolled her turquoise eyes.
“There will be no transfers, no add/drops, and no exceptions. Good luck and g’day.” Shira was gone and the mirrors returned to their regularly scheduled makeup sessions.
The girls’ aPods beeped, and they raced to retrieve them from the bedroom. Allie lifted hers from the sink once everyone had gone.
On-screen, a bronze envelope with an A seal opened, and a virtual schedule slid out. Every hour of her school day was mapped out in a grid.
Time Class Location
7:30 a.m. BREAKFAST AND MOTIVATIONAL
LECTURE
Every day you will receive a lecture from a different muse. The series is designed to inspire, motivate, and prepare your spirit for life’s daily challenges—of which there will be many. Pavilion
8:40 a.m. ROMANCE LANGUAGES
Learn to speak, read, write, and rhyme in the most romantic languages of our time. Sculpture Garden
9:40 am PROTEIN BREAK
Nourish your mind and body with a personalized protein snack and feel the rush. Health Food Court
10:10 a.m. THE ART OF EXCELLENCE
Learn social protocols, style tips, and conversation topics that will distinguish you from the mainlanders. Elizabeth I Lecture Hall
12:00 p.m. Lunch and Symphony Our
string and brass majors will serenade you with world-renowned compositions. Muses will whisper subliminal messages throughout. Pavilion
1:10 p.m. HONE IT: FOR WRITERS
Master your craft. The Fuselage
2:30 p.m. GREENER PASTURES
Save the earth without being a stick-in-the-mud. Biosphere
3:40 p.m. SPOTLIGHT TRAINING
Learn how to answer interview questions and pose for the paparazzi. Delphi Observatory
5:00 p.m. SWEAT
Personal training session designed to push your physical boundaries. Daily weigh-ins and muscle checks required. Dress to progress. Buddha Building
Serious-leh? All that in one day? Wasn’t studying Allie J a full course load in itself?
The Jackie O’s rushed back in, uniformed and comparing schedules. They flatironed, eyelined, and spritzed in record time.
“Allie J, come on!” Skye zipped up her makeup bag. “You’re not even dressed.”
Allie placed a protective hand on her towel-covered stash. “Go without me. I’ll catch up.”
Once the girls were gone, Allie quickly hid her things, got dressed, and checked herself in the mirror one last time. A girl with green eyes, black hair, silver uniform, and a cheek mole stared back at her. Allie covered her mouth and tittered. Was she really doing this?
This inside joke was far more delicious than anything she ever shared with Trina…
… except Fletcher.
A fresh wave of heartbreak sucker punched Allie right in the gut. She hated that they could hurt her from hundreds of miles away. If only he could see how good her legs looked in the pleated mini. Or what a crazy stunt she was pulling. Or how bad Trina’s skin got when she was PMS-ing. OMG! What if he did know and he was over her? What if he broke up with her already? What if he was trying to contact…
Magically, as if summoned from beyond, the lyrics to “Three-Second Rule” popped into her head, imploring her to move on.
Three-second rule for the heart
You lifted me up, out of the dark.
I have a second chance at a life that’s new,
A life that, maybe, might include you.
Was Allie J actually living inside her? Or was the song really playing?
Confused, she kicked off her slippers and followed the music outside and around to the side of the villa, where a patch of green grass was surrounded by rosebushes. Her movements were slow and cautious, like a babysitter in a horror movie investigating a mysterious noise.
Allie gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. There, under the pink cherry blossoms, was—
“Darwin!” she blurted.
“Hey.” He lifted his eyes but kept playing the guitar. The plant life swayed as if holding out invisible cell phones to the beat.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to conceal her beaming smile.
He was dressed in uniform, shirt half tucked in, sun-kissed hair sideswept, surrounded by a breakfast picnic. Allie studied his hazel stunners for residual signs of lovesickness. But there was nothing mopey about his flirty smile. Allie’s eyes felt hot behind her green contact lenses. No one had ever done anything like this for her. Fletcher’s idea of romance was a hey shorty text message or a fro-yo shake because they were both on the Sugar Busters diet.
“You said you’d help me write a song, oh brilliant one.” He held out his guitar and lowered his head in reverence.
Allie giggled nervously.
“I can’t teach you now,” she managed, willing him to lower the complicated instrument. “I’m supposed to go to breakfast.”
“Why?” Darwin lifted a croissant. “Everything you could possibly want is right here.”
He had a point.
“Where did you get this stuff?” Allie marveled at the stack of pancakes, the assortment of cheeses, fruits, syrups, and what looked like some kind of vegan wheat-meat.
“I made it.” He beamed.
“Really?” Allie squinted as if trying to discern a mirage. What kind of idiot dumped Darwin Brazille?
“Yeah.” He popped a giant red grape in his mouth and chewed. His mole rode his lip like a jockey. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I dunno.” Um, because the only thing Fletcher ever made me was depressed!
“Come sit.” He put the guitar aside and patted the red blanket.
Allie looked around for snitches, but the street was empty. “’Kay, why not?”
“So.” He handed her a plate. “Did you get into any trouble last night?”
Allie shook her head no, wondering what he would think of her natural blond hair. “You?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “It was probably another one of Dingo’s stupid jokes.”
“I guess that means we can do it again.” Allie took a pancake, ripped off a piece, and stuck it in her mouth. She didn’t figure Miss Barefoot to be one for manners.
“How come the other girl in your villa didn’t come?” Appearing lost in thought, he pressed a finger in the tread of his Converse.
Serious-leh? Did he have any idea how many germs were on there?
“Charlie Brown-nose didn’t want to break the rules.” Allie paused, a wave of prickly heat passed through her body. “Why? We weren’t good enough for you?”
“No!” He snapped back to reality. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I was, you know, just hoping that she doesn’t tell on you.”
“Breakfast will commence in five minutes, followed by the first class of the day,” announced the British woman.
The voice seemed to draw him back to that distant place, but only for a second.
A heart-flutter urged Allie to make a run for it. But truth be told, she hadn’t signed up for Alpha Academy to learn Italian. In fact, she hadn’t signed up at all. She was there under false pretenses. Expressly to earn a BFA. And if becoming a Boyfriend-Forgetting Alpha meant getting a detention or two in the process, so be it.
“So about the song.” Darwin reached for his guitar. “Can I play what I have?”
“Sure.” Allie politely reached for a link of wheat-meat. Was it supposed to be gray?
He tapped his hand on his faded jeans and began to hum. The beating of her heart matched his pace like a metronome.
When I met you I had fallen apart,
My insides on the outside, including my heart
But you listened to me and that slipped away,
You coated me in Teflon that magical day.
He stopped and looked at her expectantly.
Allie surreptitiously whipped the blahsage into the bushes and applauded. “Awesome. When did you write it?”
“Last night.” He lowered his eyes shyly. “After you left.”
Allie’s stomach swooped and her lips tingled. Either the germs on her feet were seeping into her bloodstream or her crush was getting stronger.
“How’s the cadence?” he asked. “Should I go for something faster?”
“Um, you could,” Allie tried. “But, you know, is that what you’re going for?”
Darwin stared at her, studying her face. Was he impressed with her feedback? Falling in love? Imagining what their kids would look like?
“Hmmmph,” he grunted, his gaze holding steady.
This was it. The I never thought I could feel this way about someone until I met you moment.
“What?” Allie tucked her hair behind her ear and blinked her extra-long lashes at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His lips curled into a frown. “I always thought your mole was on the left side.”
Allie tasted a little bit of pancake in the back of her throat. Had she really been so stupid? She lifted a silver knife and checked her reflection. He was right. And so was the mole!
Allie rubbed the eyeliner away. “Is this what you’re talking about?” She held out her thumb.
He nodded, looking adorably confused.
“Oh, that’s just a makeup smudge. I was helping one of the girls get ready this morning.
” Her ears were ringing so loudly she could barely hear herself lie.
“Then where’s your mole?”
“Oh, I um, I put concealer on it.” She lifted her elbows to air out her pits. But the humidity was increasing by the second. The only wind came from her mouth.
“Why?”
“I didn’t want people to know who I was, you know, in class. I want to be treated fairly. Judged like the other students.”
He nodded, considering this. She could almost feel the grass growing beneath her fingers as she waited for Darwin’s reaction. She plucked at the spongy tips nervously. What if didn’t buy it? What if he realized it wasn’t just the mole that was fake, but that she was, too?
“Admirable, but not necessary,” he finally told her. “Everyone here is pretty incredible at what they do. You should own who you are. No hiding.”
Allie grinned. If only he knew how right he was.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
He popped a cinnamon-scented toothpick into his mouth and returned to his strings. “So, back to the cadence. You’re saying leave it?” He strummed more forcefully than before.
“Darwin, shhhh,” Allie pleaded. “Someone might hear you.”
“Who? Everyone’s at breakfast.”
There was a rustle in the bushes and then the sound of footsteps coming toward them.
“Not everyone,” said a familiar voice.
Allie gasped.
But for some odd reason, Darwin gasped louder.
10
ALPHA ACADEMY
JACKIE O
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH
7:23 A.M.
Charlie opened the front door to Jackie O and let it slam behind her. Why had she hesitated back in Shira’s office? Her roommates treated her like she was more invisible than an extra on Perfect Storm. Who was she trying to protect?
Starting up the winding glass stairs, Charlie’s aPod sounded from inside her pocket. Four gold text bubbles stared back at her.