Nightgrove Academy Book One

by Bailey Blackwell

  Nightgrove Academy

  Book 1

  Bailey Blackwell

  Contents

  Nightgrove Academy Book I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Nightgrove Academy Book I

  Nightgrove Academy, where friends might be enemies, and enemies might be deadly...

  Seventeen-year-old track star Isabelle Beckett just got plucked from Nowheresville, Wyoming and thrust into a world of magic and secrets, where danger lurks around every corner. She’ll have to deal with more than one bully, including the insufferable Jake Watkins, while learning to master the powers she never knew she had. But when a forbidden night outside the school walls goes horribly wrong, and the Academy’s top students begin to disappear under mysterious circumstances, Izzy wonders if accepting this scholarship might cost far more than she’d ever bargained for…

  Chapter 1

  You can do this.

  Izzy mentally repeated the mantra she had been telling herself all day as she took a final sip of water and began to walk over to the sprinting blocks. The double shift she’d worked the night before at the diner, combined with the fatigue of the two previous races she had run that day, had her stifling a yawn, but she’d be darned if that would stop her from winning the 200-meter on the last track meet of the year.

  Izzy shot a glance to her best friend Sam two lanes over. She was stretching her hamstrings and Izzy gave her a thumbs up and a nod as they locked eyes. Sam returned the gesture and Izzy was struck by the determined expression on her friend’s face. Though Sam often came in second place, Izzy had come in first in the race they had run earlier that day, and the vast majority of the races that year. It almost made Izzy want to lay back and let her friend win this one.

  Almost.

  “Ready,” an official yelled.

  She took a deep breath as she put her feet onto the sprinting blocks. A moment later, the starter pistol sounded and she broke into a sprint, losing all sense of the crowd, the noise, even where the other runners around her were positioned. None of that mattered as her arms and legs pumped in counter-rhythm, steady as a metronome. Her gaze was locked on the finish line, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her as she bounded toward it. That feeling made all of her practice worth it.

  She had known she would win the race the second she’d found her focus and got in the zone. That almost addictive, heady space of total clarity and concentration, where she didn’t have to think or feel. She just had to let her body do what it knew it had to. When she felt that way, there was no one who could beat her.

  She perched her hands on her hips as she slowed to a walk and turned around to see how the others had fared. Sam was just finishing in second place—no surprise there—but typically, Izzy wasn’t so far ahead of the pack. It had been a major feat, for sure, and she’d crushed her own previous best. She glanced up at her father, who was cheering in the stands as always, shooting him a wide grin.

  When the runners had all finished their sprint and went to the side of the track, Izzy was nearly knocked over by an enthusiastic hug from Sam.

  “I’ve never seen someone run so fast, you must’ve broken some kind of world record,” Sam shouted. “It was like somebody stuck a rocket up your butt or something!”

  “Had to close out the year strong,” Izzy replied, cheeks heating with pleasure at her friend’s sweet words. “And you killed it, too, woohoo! I’m so glad you’re my teammate.”

  “Great job, girls,” Coach Harris said, beaming at both of them as he approached, “you two put us at a huge advantage over Henderson. It’ll be hard for the other girls to blow a lead like this.”

  Their coach winked and continued to make his way over to the people who would be competing in the next event, giving them some final words of encouragement.

  Coach was right. Stockridge High would almost certainly take the win now that she and Sam had created such a huge lead by finishing first and second place, respectively, in each event they participated in. Izzy was ecstatic, but she knew that, under it all, Sam was feeling a little deflated. She worked just as hard as Izzy did, only she’d been doing it for the past five years while Izzy had just started running track this year. She could only imagine how hard it had been for Sam to give up her role as the fastest on the team since Izzy had joined. You’d never know it, though. Sam showed not even an ounce of resentment. She understood that Izzy’s only way out of a life of the working class poor was through running, and she didn’t begrudge her an ounce of her success.

  “Let’s watch the last few events together,” Izzy said, gesturing to an open spot on a bench near the track.

  “I still can’t believe how fast you were today,” Sam marveled, shaking her head.

  “You were damn fast yourself, I don’t think anyone else was even close to beating you,” Izzy replied.

  “I hope the scouts were watching us, it’ll be our last chance to get any kind of sports scholarship.”

  “It wouldn’t be crazy for you to get a late offer after how well you did today,” Izzy said.

  “I hope I do,” Sam said with her eyes now locked on the distance running event that was going on as the sun had begun to set.

  The last few events passed by quickly, and soon enough, it was official. Stockridge had won yet another track meet, making it a record year for the team. The victory was bittersweet, as it was the last meet in her high school career.

  “Great job, Iz!” a female voice shouted as some of her teammates passed her on their way to the locker room.

  Izzy smiled and returned the compliment. She didn’t mind the attention but she wanted to talk to her father, who was making his way down the stands toward her. He worked the graveyard shift at a clothing factory and he had gone without sleep to watch her run, as he often did. She stood and slipped into the circle of his arms and gave him a squeeze.

  “Great job, Isabelle, I think that was your best performance all year,” he said with a grin. “Why don’t I take you and Sam out for a burger to celebrate your win?”

  “Sounds good,” Izzy said, “but I have to go to the locker room first. I’ll meet you at the car in a few minutes and tell her we’ll see her there.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  Sam was waiting on the bench to walk with her but most of the other athletes had already made their way inside.

  “My dad said he’s gonna get us a burger at the diner after we’re done here,” Izzy said as they walked, “wanna meet us?”

  “Sure,” Sam said, “I’m starving.”

  “We deserve a good meal after how we ran today,” Izzy replied.

  As the pair joined the rest of the team in the locker room, one of the cheerleaders, Jessica Taylor, stood up and waved at Sam. Izzy reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged over to where the cheerleaders were opening their lockers, despite the fact that she’d rather eat a bullet than talk to the girl.

  Jessica grinned at Sam and reached out to hug her. “Great job today,” she said, “the girls and I are going to my house to eat after this, do you…” she shot Izzy a glance, “guys want to come?”

  “Can’t, sorry. Izzy and I are actually about to grab a bite to eat at the diner with her dad.”

  �
��Oh, are you going there because you get free meals for working there, Izzy? I can’t eat that greasy stuff, I’m trying to watch my figure,” Jessica said, blinking in mock innocence.

  “If only you were half as concerned about your personality as you were your weight, maybe you’d be less of a garbage person,” Izzy replied in the same sweet tone that Jessica had used towards her.

  Jessica put on her best hurt look and turned back towards her locker, saying nothing as Izzy stormed over to the other side of the locker room. Sam followed after a few parting words with Jessica and her friends, while Izzy fought a stab of guilt. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be baited into sinking to Jessica’s level, even though her reply didn’t come close to making up for all of the times things had been the other way around.

  The second Sam had her back to the cheerleaders, though, Jessica turned and gave Izzy a mocking grin, effectively cutting her self-recriminations short.

  While the two of them changed out of their track clothes, Sam whispered, “I really wish you could try to get along with Jessica a little better, we used to all be so close.”

  “Yeah, in first grade, before she turned into a psycho witch. Why would I want to get along with her? She’s always being awful to me to try to get me to react. You should see how bad it gets when you’re not around. She’s gaslighting you into thinking she’s a good person when she isn’t.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “She’s not as bad as you act like she is. In fact, she’s told me that she wishes you two could be friends again.”

  “She’s two-faced and only says that because she wants you to think it’s my fault we don’t get along,” Izzy said as she slipped on her flip-flops. “If she never started acting this way, we would still be friends.” To this day, Izzy still didn’t know what had flipped that switch. At first, it had hurt her feelings because it was so abrupt. Soon enough, though, she stopped caring about the why and tried to focus on avoiding her whenever possible. “Let’s get going, my dad’s waiting in the parking lot.”

  “Could you just try to be a little less mean to her, for my sake?” Sam said as she followed Izzy towards the exit.

  “We’re about to graduate, and I heard she’s moving away for school, so hopefully it won’t come up,” Izzy said.

  “Speaking of which, have you gotten any other acceptance letters yet?” Sam asked as they approached the edge of the parking lot.

  “Nope, just Eastern and no scholarship because they won’t spend money on women’s sports.” The other places Izzy had applied had all sent back no’s because she had only been running track for one year. “I haven’t heard back from a couple places still, but I’m thinking I might just stay home, commute part time, and save up some money to try to transfer into a four year school the year after next. I was hoping that a hungry recruiter would ignore my lack of history and approach me at some point for a scholarship, but that ship seems to have sailed.”

  And, while she didn’t want to say it out loud, with her dad working so hard just to make ends meet, she wasn’t about to accept his offer to help her get student loans. God forbid she couldn’t get a good job right away to pay them back and he got stuck with the bill. Better to just accept the fact that she’d be in this town, at least for a while, picking up a couple classes at community college while working crappy shifts at the diner to save up enough for tuition.

  “How about you? Have you made a decision yet?” Izzy asked Sam. She was sure she’d have already heard, but she was anxious to get the focus off her and her depressing prospects.

  “Not yet, unless a full scholarship comes along, I’m still planning on going t-,” Sam stopped short and her face lit up as a man with a pointy nose and chin approached them.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said, his smile making his face look even more rat-like than it did at rest.

  They both mumbled greetings in return as he turned to face Izzy. The suit and the business card in his hand had her heart pounding a little faster.

  “Isabelle, my name is Leonard Richardson. I’m a recruiter with an elite academy in the Northwest. We are very interested in you. You had quite a showing here tonight,” he said with a nasal voice and an accent that Izzy couldn’t place.

  “Thanks,” she replied, trying to keep calm. Could this seriously be happening right now, at the eleventh hour? “W-What’s the name of the school?” she added, adrenaline pumping.

  “We are called Nightgrove Academy. I’m not at liberty to say much at this time but if you want to talk privately about what we have to offer, give me a call at this number,” he said, offering the business card to her.

  Izzy hesitated a moment before reaching out to grab it. He turned and walked away wordlessly, sending a pang of guilt shooting through her when she noticed Sam’s slumped shoulders.

  Izzy glanced down to look at the jet black and unadorned card that suspiciously had nothing other than a phone number written on it. No branding, no website. Not even his name. “Don’t feel bad, Sam. He’s just some weirdo and this is probably his idea of some kind of prank. Like, what kind of business card is this?” Izzy asked, showing the card to Sam, who shrugged, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Anybody can get something like this made. Remember when Austin Becker got those cards made in eighth grade?”

  Sam’s face cleared and she chuckled. “Ah, yes. Austin Becker, Professional De-virginizer. Low rates, satisfaction guaranteed.”

  Izzy snorted as she flicked the card with her thumb and forefinger. “This is probably nothing.”

  “Well, I, for one, hope you’re wrong, Iz. But something definitely seems weird about it, now that you mention it. What kind of school doesn’t let their recruiter tell people more about their university to entice them?” Sam added.

  Izzy considered throwing the card into the nearby trash can but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it – she had been waiting on something like this for months. Even if this was a prank or a pipedream, she wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet.

  She pocketed the card as they began walking across the parking lot to her dad’s car and decided that she would figure out what to do later. Her phone was out of data for the month and, until she got home and did some research, there was no point in dwelling. She certainly didn’t want to get her dad all hyped about it for nothing.

  As they approached the small sedan, with its fender falling off on one side and a missing taillight, Izzy’s dad popped the trunk open from inside for Izzy to stow her bags.

  “Meet you at the diner, Sam,” Izzy said, waving as she hopped into the front seat.

  Sam waved and walked to the other side of the parking lot where she had parked.

  On the way to the diner, Izzy and her father discussed the track meet, school, and summer plans, but Izzy’s mind was only partially engaged.

  The rest of it was still thinking of the strange, rat-faced man with the black business card…

  Nightgrove Academy.

  What a curious name for a college…

  Chapter 2

  Dinner was nice, but uneventful, and Izzy couldn’t wait for it to end so she could get to the computer. When she and her dad got home, it was 9:30, only two hours before he would have to leave for work that night. He took his standard spot on the couch as she reluctantly took her seat on the recliner while he flipped the television on to begin looking for shows to watch. She shot a longing glance at the desk in the corner, but it was in plain view. If he saw her looking up Nightgrove, he would want to know why, and she hated to lie to him.

  To say something or keep her trap shut…decisions, decisions.

  Unable to stand the wait a second longer, she cleared her throat. “Uh, so I was approached by a recruiter today after the meet but it was really weird and I wanted to ask you what you think about it.”

  “That’s great, honey!” her dad replied, tired eyes lighting up. “What school?” he asked as he turned the volume of the TV down low.

  “He just said it’s an elite school in the Northwest called
Nightgrove Academy, but that he wasn’t at liberty to say more about it until we spoke in private. I’m worried that it was some kind of crazy prank or something,” Izzy said while taking out the business card and leaning over to show her father.

  She wouldn’t put it past Jessica to lob one more parting arrow before leaving for Connecticut. Would she really have gone to these lengths to humiliate her, though?

  Izzy’s dad took the card and, after looking at it for a moment, flipped it over. When he saw that both sides were totally blank except for the number, he handed it back with a puzzled shrug.

  “I agree. Really weird. Then again, with all these rules for what colleges are allowed to legally offer to athletes and all that, maybe this is a new thing to keep them from violating recruiting guidelines? I don’t know what to think, but you should definitely call and see what’s going on. A full ride would be huge for you, if you could get it, and there’s no harm in trying.”

  Unloading her little secret, as short-lived as it was, still felt like a weight off and she let out a sigh of relief. “I guess you’re right, I’ll call him during usual business hours tomorrow and see what’s up. If he’s still weird or won’t offer any information, no harm, no foul,” Izzy said.

  “You should use the computer to look the school up and check if it’s legit.”

  “Good idea,” she said, as if she hadn’t been thinking of that for the past two hours. She stood and headed to the desk, turned the ten-year-old behemoth on, and went to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice while waiting for it to boot up. When she returned, she logged in and typed the name of the school into the search bar, holding her breath.