by C. M. Fenn
I stare at her as she stares at the wall across from her bed. I still can’t believe this woman is the famous Sylvia Redding AND Shay Rendle. I’m curious if she’s this much of a diva in her everyday life. I’m pretty certain I know the answer to that.
“So how do you want to do this?” I ask, not wanting to put off the inevitable any longer.
“Do what?” She finally looks at me, and I wish she was still staring at the wall.
“This.” I point a finger back and forth between us. “Do you want to talk first? Get to know each other? Or just jump in there and get it done.”
She rolls her eyes, a gesture I’m beginning to view as synonymous with her. “Oh please. You sound like a nervous little virgin about to get laid for the first time.”
Her vulgarity doesn’t surprise me, but her reluctance to be of any help is really beginning to get on my nerves.
For the greater good, I remind myself.
“I’m only trying to help you Simone,” I say with forced civility.
“Ha! Like I need HELP from YOU!” she sneers. “Look, I’m only doing this for Angel. You can sit there and tell me all about your pathetic little life, but there is no way in HELL I’m letting you into my head.”
My mouth falls open.
“But—”
“But nothing, sweetheart. It’s not going to happen.”
“Then why bother pretending? Why even bring me here?” I ask, angry now.
“So Angel would think I’m letting you meddle in my business. She deals with enough. She doesn’t need any added stress right now,” she says quietly.
“Wow,” I say sarcastically. “You mean you actually care about someone other than yourself?” I regret it instantly. I told myself I wasn’t going to stoop to her level. Dang her and her vileness.
She gives me a withering look and I sigh in defeat. “Fine, Simone. I won’t force you. If you refuse to even make an effort to become a useful member of this team then fine. That’s on you. But if you think for a second that I’m going to sit here and waste an hour of my life every night on YOU, then you are very mistaken.” I get up and head toward the door.
“Refuse to make an effort?” Simone shrieks from behind me. “You don’t know anything about me!” As my hand reaches for the door knob, a small throw pillow slams into the wall next to me, narrowly missing my head. “So don’t pretend you do!” I shut the door behind me, gladly leaving the fuming prima donna behind.
Chapter 26
Major Calm seems eerily empty as I walk the halls. I figure Sam, Ember, and probably Crank must be out on a mission and everyone else is most likely top-side.
I have a few questions for Ben, so I decide to head to the Science and Tech Lab. I’m not surprised when I find the place empty, so I find a note pad and a pen and start writing.
In the note, I ask him if he knows of a way to pull some strings with UCLA to get them to accept an application from me for the fall semester. I explain how I’m sure I missed the deadline and my chances of getting in on my own are next to nothing. I thank him for his help and tape the note to the middle of his very neat desk where I’m sure he’ll find it.
On my way back to the living room, I hear what sounds like someone playing a drum set, so I head to the music room. Sure enough, I find Lang-hao pounding out a drum solo. He looks up and smiles. I wave back at him and lean against the door frame and watch him finish. He really is talented and looks every inch a pop star.
When he finishes, he comes over and gives me a hug. “Hey beautiful,” he says. Even though I’m beginning to get used to Lang’s flirty personality, I still can’t help blushing at his words.
“Hey! I’m surprised to see you here. Shouldn’t you be top-side?” I ask him.
“I’m actually thirty thousand feet in the air right now.” He smirks at my confused expression. “I’m on a plane to L.A. I’ve got some recording to do at a studio there.”
“Oh, I see. Long flight then?”
“Very. And why be cooped up in a plane for ten hours when I could be here having me a jam session.”
Every time I speak with Lang, his American accent impresses me.
“For sure,” I say. “Hey, I wonder if you could help me.”
“Anything for you, love.”
I laugh. “Well, I’m supposed to be getting my self-defense training, but I never really got the details about it.”
“I can definitely help you. It’s Kira or Boss who does the self-defense training. My guess is that Boss is going to be too swamped this week to teach you, so you’ll need to find Kira.”
“Hmm, this is going to be difficult. Isn’t she at London base?”
“She is, but you’re in luck. Kira’s a work-out-aholic. She’s almost always in the training center here working out.”
“Oh great!” I say with relief. “I knew Angel really wanted me to start today. I was worried about disappointing her.”
“Well, if you get to the Training Wing and Kira’s not there, come get me and I’ll train you for tonight.”
“Thanks so much, Lang!” I hug him again before I head out.
Sure enough, as I enter the main hall leading to the separate practice rooms, I hear Kira’s familiar grunts and shouts. When I find her, she’s decked out in boxing gear and is severely abusing a punching bag. When she sees me, she stops and takes off her gear.
“Hey girl,” she says to me, only slightly out of breath.
“Hi Kira! Do you feel up to doing some training?”
The rest of my night is spent there in the Training Wing. First, Kira takes me to the supply room where I find some comfortable workout clothes. Then she shows me where the showers and locker rooms are so I can get changed.
Once I’m dressed, we head to a practice room with a padded floor, and I learn basic defense maneuvers for the better part of an hour. Once I’ve got all the positions memorized, Kira stops pretending to attack me and actually does.
While I realize that she must be going easy on me, she’s still managing to kick my butt. Time and time again I end up on my back staring at the ceiling. She’s very patient and tells me it’s okay to get knocked down as long as I keep getting up. So I do. I get up every time, and gradually, things begin to get easier. Kira’s too tough an instructor to take pity on me and ease up, so this can only mean that I’m improving.
By the time my watch says six a.m., sweat drips in streams from my clothing. My limbs feel a hundred pounds heavier, and my pulse is pounding in my face. I shake my head when I see Kira isn’t even breathing heavy.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asks me cheerfully. I’m too exhausted to speak, so I give her a halfhearted smile and a thumbs up. I pat her on the shoulder as a way of saying thanks before I head back to the showers to rinse off.
I manage to make it back to my temporary room minutes before my alarm is set to go off. As I collapse on my bed, I concede to myself that I had a pretty great night tonight. I accomplished a lot, apart from the spat with Simone, and I’m proud of myself.
Now that I have a pretty good idea of what this next week is going to be like for me, I have fewer worries about my own inadequacy. I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow night as I fall asleep with a comforting sense of satisfaction.
Chapter 27
Monday morning is agonizing. A long hot shower before school does little to relieve my aching muscles. The only highlight of my morning is the heaping piles of waffles I consume at breakfast.
“Whoa.” The sound of my sister’s voice breaks me out of my hunger-induced binge mid-bite. She’s sitting across the table looking perplexed and disgusted.
“Hungry much?” she asks.
I think back to last night’s exertions and the calories I must have burned. Is it always going to be like this? I shrug at her and make an effort not to inhale my food quite as fast as before.
After breakfast I say good-bye to Jana. She’s heading back to Flagstaff today and I won’t see her again for a while. I hug her and tell he
r to PLEASE try to drive carefully (something nearly impossible for her). I say a silent prayer that she survives the three-hour trip back.
Before I leave for school, I make sure I’ve grabbed BOTH of my cell phones. I’m going to have to get used to keeping my Walker phone on me at all times. As an afterthought, I also snatch up my new book from Mikhail on my way out.
School’s the worst part of my day. I try to be patient and pleasant to Tori before the first bell, but I’m finding it abnormally difficult this morning. Her comments and attitude are shallow and obnoxious as she gossips about people she partied with over the weekend.
I’m having a hard time concentrating on being the attentive, listening friend as my mind constantly wanders. If I’m not going over everything I learned from Angel yesterday, I’m playing back all my defense training, making sure I still remember it all. And then I’m wondering how the others are. How were the missions last night? Is everyone safe? Have they learned anything new?
It’s fortunate Tori doesn’t require much input from me in our “conversations,” or maybe she would’ve realized how distant I was, or how unimpressed I was by her list of scandals that had occurred last weekend.
As bad as it is being around Tori, my classes are even worse. Since finals are over, there’s little to hold my attention. I can’t stop thinking about Chaos. I wish I were back there training. This is pointless being here when I could be learning how to protect myself and help my friends.
I glance at my watch again only to find just a few minutes have passed since the last time I checked. My leg bounces impatiently, and I’m so frustrated I feel as though I could burst from my skin.
I try to pass the time by practicing some mental abilities. I send my consciousness out and explore the classroom. I watch from above as students visit and exchange yearbooks with each other for signing. I play with the idea of going into some of their minds for practice, but I can’t get past the feeling I’d be trespassing.
By third hour I’ve become brave enough to push my consciousness out of the classroom and into the hall. I do this slowly and carefully, trying to spread my awareness out rather than send it completely to one area. I can’t risk leaving my body inattentive in case the teacher calls on me. Even though it’s good practice, it doesn’t do much to ease my frustrations at not being in Chaos.
By lunchtime I’m starving. Tori finds me in some shade under a tree on the edge of the central courtyard. She looks pointedly at the three slices of pizza I bought from a vendor on campus.
“I missed breakfast,” I lie.
She gives me an exasperated look as she pulls a yogurt and bagel from her bag. I roll my eyes, not caring if she sees.
She frowns at me and starts to say something, but a buzzing sound coming from my bag cuts her off. I reach for my phone and stare at it in confusion when I see it isn’t ringing. Then I realize my OTHER phone is buzzing.
“Oh no.” I panic as I dig through my bag, thinking a hundred horrible things at once. I find my phone and answer before I can even read the name on the screen.
“Hello?” I ask anxiously, gripping the phone tightly. Ignoring the confused look on Tori’s face, I get up and walk a few paces away for privacy.
“Adelaide?” a man’s voice says. I recognize the English accent.
“Yes? Ben? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” he reassures me. Relief washes over me. “I’m calling about your note.”
“Oh right!” I slap my forehead. “Of course. Wow, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Well, it was a simple matter, so it’s no problem,” he explains. “I did not get UCLA to agree to accept a late application from you.”
My heart sinks. “Oh.” I think of how disappointed Ember will be and of all the fun I’ll miss out on next year.
“You see,” he says, “there’s no need for an application. I simply placed you on the roster as a full-time student with a full-ride scholarship. Your acceptance packet is in the mail.”
“You what?” Did I hear him right? “Wait, you can do that?”
“Adelaide,” he says patiently, “I can access any and all of the world’s satellites. Did you think I could not get you into a university?”
“Wow,” I say a little embarrassed. “I feel stupid.”
He laughs. It’s a warm, infectious sound that spreads a grin across my face.
“Well, we can’t have that. You’re a university student now. Mel suggested I enroll you in the art program there. I hope that was all right.”
“That’s perfect!” I can’t believe how easy this was. “Thank you, Ben. Thank you so much!”
“Of course, Addy. If there’s anything else you need from me, let me know.” I can hear what sounds like Mel in the background shouting ‘hi’ at me.
“Tell Mel I said ‘hi’ back and give her a hug for me!”
“With pleasure,” Ben says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Thank you again!”
I field Tori’s questions about who called me and when did I get a new phone as best I can. I tell her it was a graduation gift and that it was just a friend calling. She looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate, but I shove pizza in my mouth instead. Before she can grill me further, I pull out my new book and start reading.
She makes a huffing sound. “Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch you read. Have a good lunch.” She gathers her things and leaves. She’s angry, but for the first time, I really don’t care.
This last weekend I learned what real friendship is, and I’m acutely aware that it is NOT what Tori and I share. I’ll try and be civil toward her. I’ll always be grateful for her being there for me when my dad died. But I’m done making myself miserable over her.
I really do read as I eat, and I find the novel intriguing. I get so enveloped in the story and characters that I nearly miss the bell signaling lunch is over. As I cram the book into my bag and get up to rush to fourth hour, something strange happens.
I feel like I’m being watched.
I look around, searching for a familiar face gazing my way. Students are all around me, talking and heading in different directions—on their way to class, horsing around, laughing and flirting with each other. No one’s looking at me. No one’s watching me.
And as abruptly as the feeling came, it’s gone.
I shake my head and blame it on stress. This is my school. This is the most normal aspect of my life right now. Surrounded by students and teachers, with things as mundane as calculus and gym class, I’m certain this is one place the mysteries and dangers of my new life can’t reach.
My theory proves right when nothing life-threatening happens on my way to my next class. In fact, while abhorrently slow, the rest of the school day passes without incident.
At home, I rush through the evening as quickly as I can. I do chores. I do homework. I help with dinner. As soon as my mom and I finish eating and the dishes are cleared, I feign exhaustion and say goodnight, anxious and excited for what the night holds.
Chapter 28
Before making my way to the library to train with Angel, I knock on Ember’s door. No answer. I drop my head against her door. I was hoping to check in on her, see how things were out in Chaos. I look down to the end of the hall toward Sam’s room. I know I won’t find him in there either. My frustration is renewed as I think of the two of them hunting every night while I remain unable to help them.
Train, Addy. The only solution is to train as quickly as possible. I turn and jog down the hall, determined not to waste another second.
Running through the halls of Major Calm, I encounter no one until I round the corner entering the main living area. I’m running too fast to stop the full-body collision. Completely startled, I bounce back off a dark figure hard enough to land me on my butt.
Before I can see who I crashed into, strong hands wrap around my upper arms and lift me with ease. Once on my feet, I look up into a pair of light gra
y eyes.
“Oh,” I say inadequately.
Mikhail lets go of my arms once I steady myself. “Are you hurt?” he asks quietly, concern on his face.
“No, I’m okay,” I say embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I—”
“It is nothing,” he says as he steps around me to leave.
“Wait!” I say impulsively. He hesitates before turning to face me. I can’t let myself pass up any chance to get to know Mikhail. I know the others haven’t had any luck, but he came to my home and left me a book. That must mean something.
“I wanted to thank you,” I start uncomfortably. He isn’t looking me in the eyes, so it’s difficult to gauge his reaction.
“For the book I mean.” Still, his gaze only flicks in my direction before shifting to the walls or the floor. This is awkward. I wonder briefly if he’s intentionally making this difficult or if he just has a complete lack of social skills.
Not willing to give up yet, I continue. “It’s really good! I started it at lunch yesterday and couldn’t put it down.” He nods slightly in acknowledgement.
“Well,” I say, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, “it was really nice. Of you. I mean,” am I stuttering? What is wrong with me?! “you didn’t have to go out of your way. But you did.” Gosh. Is his social ineptness contagious? I feel as though I’m de-evolving right here in front of him.
Again he nods, still withholding conversation. I sigh inwardly. On an impulsive whim and as my last attempt to salvage this, I reach up and place my arms around his shoulders in a hug.
Mistake.
Instantly, he’s stiff and unmoving, like the way a deer freezes when caught in the beam of headlights from a car. I’m pretty sure he isn’t even breathing. Things have just escalated from awkward to miserably humiliating.
What must he think of me, if he won’t even accept a friendly embrace? The other Walkers hug me with nearly every encounter.
