None of the results had anything to do with a school, and Nightgrove apparently wasn’t even the name of a town in the Northwest, which made the name seem even weirder.
She shrugged and went to a reverse phone number lookup website and entered the digits. No results again.
What kind of school would have business cards with a cell phone number or an unlisted landline number on them?
“No dice,” she said as she walked back into the living room, sipping her juice and trying to mask her disappointment.
“That’s so strange,” her dad said. “I still think you should call tomorrow, just to be sure. It would suck to miss out on a scholarship.”
“I’ll call before I leave for school tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good. Now, what do you say we bake something together before I have to leave for work? If you want, we can make some cookies,” he said, rising from his seat on the couch and leading the way into the kitchen.
“How is Sam holding up, by the way?” her dad asked. “She seemed sort of down when we were eating earlier.”
“She was upset but she didn’t really show it until that recruiter approached me, which I think bummed her out. I’m pretty sure she thought he might be there for her, or both of us, when he was walking up,” Izzy replied as her father preheated the oven. “Let’s do chocolate chip today,” she added while grabbing the ingredients and beginning to measure them out to put in a bowl. “You know, Dad, this weird scholarship situation has made me realize I’m torn between staying here and going off to school, anyway. I don’t want to leave you all alone,” Izzy said.
“You’re special, Iz. You have the gifts to go further than your mother and I ever had a chance to, and I want you to take that chance,” he said as she passed him ingredients and he mixed them in the bowl. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. Besides, I could come visit you at whatever school you choose, and you’d be home on holidays and in the summer. Let’s sit down after graduation and fill out some loan paperwork just to see, okay? There are a lot of state schools still taking late registration. With your good grades and athletic prowess, you’ll be a shoe-in.”
Izzy didn’t speak, seriously reconsidering what her dreams really were now.
“By the way, your Aunt Camille called this morning after you had left for your meet,” her father said as he put the cookies into the pan. “She was asking for you.”
“What’d she say?” Izzy asked with a smile.
“She’ll be in California until next week, but when she gets back to Wyoming she wants to come stay with us for a few days.”
“I’ll call her back tomorrow and ask which days so I can see if I can schedule off work,” Izzie said as she put the cookie sheet into the oven and set the timer. “I really miss her.”
Despite her distraction, the thought of seeing her Aunt Camille was a comfort to her. Since her mom had passed away when she was nine, Izzy didn’t have a lot of female figures in her life, but she always enjoyed hanging out and having girls nights out with her aunt.
She and her father cleaned up the bowl and countertop in companionable silence and then headed back into the living room to watch a cooking show while they waited for the timer to go off. The smell of the baking cookies brought memories of her mother to her mind. When she was young, the three of them used to bake together. Especially at Christmas, the whole place smelled like warm sugar, cinnamon and spice.
“I miss Mom being here to bake with us, even though she probably would’ve burned them,” Izzy said, remembering her mother’s poor baking skills with fondness.
“She would’ve been so proud of you getting your grades up this year while doing so well in track.”
Izzy hoped so. Her mom would have been even prouder if she could get into school without driving her father into the poor house.
Izzy shoved the thought away and fell into the mindlessness of reality TV, exhausted from the up and down emotions of the day. By the time the cookies were done and out of the oven, it was almost 11:30.
“I have to go get ready for work,” her father said as he put a half dozen still-warm cookies into a container for work. “Make sure you get some rest. I’ll stay up to take you to your finals in the morning.”
“Have a good night, Dad. I’m going to bed shortly.”
As her father left the room to get dressed, she grabbed a cookie and ate it on the way to the bathroom. The cold shower felt good after such a long day running and being outside in the hot June heat. When she got out of the shower, she headed to her room with a plan to cram in a little last minute studying. But as she sat down on the edge of her bed, she couldn’t help herself.
Acting before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her old sliding phone that didn’t even have a touch screen, and dialed the number on the card. Even though it was unlisted, calling this late at night should take her to a voicemail. Hopefully, the outgoing recording on it would provide her with some more information.
The phone rang three times and then, strangely, someone picked up.
“Hello, Isabelle,” the familiar, nasally voice on the other end of the line murmured.
Leonard Richardson, answering the phone in the middle of the night.
Izzy’s cheeks went hot.
Why would he give her a personal cell phone number and no other information, unless someone was trying to mess with her or he was some sort of predator with a scam? In an instant, her best hope at going to school without being a financial burden or being in debt her whole life fizzled away.
“What kind of prank is this?” Izzy said, keeping her tone calm despite her anger. “Are you going to try to lure me into a white van with some candy next, or did you need me to send money to the Prince of Nigeria so he can bestow his fortune upon me?”
“You have the wrong idea,” Leonard said. “I know it’s unconventional, Isabelle, and I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger stuff, but I swear to you. This is no prank.”
His tone was so solemn that her anger drained away and she found herself listening intently.
“I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. A chance to go further than you thought possible. And it all starts tomorrow night. I’ll be at the train station to catch the 11:00 PM going northwest. If you’re there, everything you need will be provided and your tuition, room and board will be taken care of. If not, you forfeit this opportunity and someone else will take your place.”
Irritation returned, and along with it, came a deep sadness. She’d been crazy to even hope…
“Are you some kind of nutter? What kind of school starts in June? And do you really think that I’m going to meet a strange man at a train station in the middle of the night? So you can, what, take me to Murderville Academy? What’s your mascot’s name there, Stabby the Knife?” she demanded with a harsh laugh.
“Good one. But, unfortunately, I am unable to share information about the Academy with you in order to reassure you. Not until you have signed the non-disclosure agreement. Maybe this will help, though. Do you know that feeling you get when you’re running, Izzy?” he asked softly.
Goosebumps broke out on her arms and she gripped the phone more tightly.
“Where it feels like you’re unstoppable and your entire body is focused only on what you’re doing?” he continued. “The sensation of running? The air filling your lungs…the beat of your heart. Everything feels in sync.”
Izzy’s breath caught in her throat and the blood rushed to her ears as he pressed on, his voice almost hypnotic.
“Like today, when you won that final race so handily? What if I told you that you could feel that way all the time?” he said. “That is the type of chance I’m offering you. When we meet, I will explain everything to you on the train. If you aren’t convinced, you can get off at the nearest stop. I’ll even pay for you to get a lift back home, plus a hundred dollars for wasting your time.”
She wanted to tell him to drop dead, and then hang up the phone. But she was st
ill shocked and reeling from the accuracy of his description.
“Sleep on it, Izzy.”
The line went dead, and she yanked the phone away from her ear and stared at it like it was a live snake.
Sleep on it?
Easy for him to say. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t sleep a wink…
But if she did, she’d likely dream about rat-faced men in fancy suits offering her the world on a platter.
Chapter 3
Izzy woke up at 7:30 after only a few hours of sleep and made a bacon egg and cheese sandwich for herself, and a BLT for her dad as an after-work snack. The call from last night had kept her up for hours, which was totally ridiculous. She shouldn’t even be considering going, but there was a strange feeling inside her that had been testing her resolve.
How could she pass up this kind of opportunity even on the off-chance it was real? If she was being pranked or tricked somehow, it would be humiliating, but at least she wouldn’t be left wondering ‘What if?’
When her father had changed out of his work clothes, she handed him his plate and they sat together in the living room to eat. He thanked her but he was tired, and neither of them said much.
Her last day of final exams passed in a blur, and thoughts of the Academy far overshadowed everything else. Izzy met Sam on the way out and they headed towards the parking lot of the school together. Sam’s new silver sedan was waiting for them near the front of the parking lot. They both hopped in and Sam smiled as she drove them off of the school’s premises for the last time of their high school career. Sam connected her phone to the car’s Bluetooth and started her playlist.
The pair chatted a little on their way home, but by the halfway point to Izzy’s house, they were both singing along to the music and dancing in their seats. Izzy would miss this time with her friend more than anything when Sam left. Sure, she’d still get to see her on random weekends—the school she’d likely be attending was only a two-hour drive away—but Izzy feared that they would grow apart as their lives went different directions. If, by some freak chance, this whacky scholarship thing ended up being real, it would mean seeing Sam even less.
Orrr maybe her mind was conjuring up reasons to make her feel better if and when her dreams were truly crushed.
“Want to come over after graduation this weekend? My parents are putting together a little party for it,” Sam said as she stopped at Izzy’s house.
“Is Jessica going to be there?” Izzy asked, frowning.
“No, she’s got stuff going on, apparently. She isn’t even going to make it to the graduation ceremony,” Sam said, chuckling at Izzy’s now ecstatic expression.
“Excellent,” Izzy said, squashing the guilt already forming in her gut. If she went to that train tonight, she’d miss their graduation and Sam’s party… “I’ll check with my dad and call you later!”
She stepped out of the car and tiptoed into her house so as not to wake her father, who had likely only fallen asleep four or five hours ago. She headed to the kitchen to make a snack, only to find he was already there, frying up a grilled cheese sandwich.
“Hey, Dad.”
He turned and grinned as he handed her a glass of orange juice that he had poured for her.
“Congratulations, Isabelle, you’re finally done,” he said, smiling despite the bags under his eyes. He put the grilled cheese onto a paper plate with his spatula and handed it to Izzy as he started one for himself.
“Thanks, Dad,” Izzy said, “you didn’t have to stay up for that.”
“Don’t worry, I just got up fifteen minutes ago to make this for when you got back. I’m going back to bed soon.”
Izzy felt so warm inside, it was almost enough to make her forget the thoughts that had been racing through her head since last night’s phone call. The grilled cheese was delicious and it had a few strips of bacon mixed in with the cheese, which was her favorite. Since her mother had died, her dad had stepped up and done his best to do enough for two parents.
She was so lucky to have him. She would do well to remember that, instead of wishing for unicorns and fairy godmothers.
“Did you find anything else out about that school?” he asked as they ate.
“Not much. I called and it was the guy’s cell phone. I asked him more about the place and he said he would need me to sign an NDA first. Super weird. I’m probably just going to forget about it.”
There was zero point in mentioning the whole train meetup request. He’d never agree to let her do it, and saying out loud that she was even considering it would only make him think he’d raised an idiot.
Wasn’t this the kind of thing Dateline episodes were made of? Her bones would likely be found two years later in some psycho’s meat-locker in Schenectady and the news would be filled with people victim-blaming her for getting herself murdered.
It wouldn’t be, “What kind of a guy keeps a kid in his meat-locker? Hell, what kind of guy even owns a locker specifically for meat, unless he’s a butcher?”
No.
It would be, “What kind of woman meets a guy she doesn’t know from Adam at a train station in the middle of the night and doesn’t know she’s about to get legit murdered?”
“I don’t know,” her dad was saying, interrupting her macabre thoughts. “With all this newfangled tech stuff, who even has landlines anymore but us?” He popped the last corner of his grilled cheese into his mouth and brushed the crumbs off his fingers. “What was that thing your mom was always quoting? You can’t miss the shots you don’t take?”
Izzy nodded, sinking deeper into her chair. “Something like that.”
“Anyway, you’re smart and you always exercise good judgement. I’m good with whatever you decide to do,” he said as he stood and ruffled her hair like she was five again. “Love you, Isabelle. But, I gotta get some shuteye. Those machines won’t run themselves…yet, at least,” he added, the note of worry in his voice like a knife through the heart.
She knew he’d been worried lately that his skilled labor position would be automated soon enough, and he’d be out of the only job he’d known. Then what?
In the darkness of night, hours later, it was that very thought that hung in the forefront of her mind. And, when the clock read 10:00, she knew it was now or never.
What was that other saying Mom used to quote, when she wanted to buy Izzy’s dad a special treat for dinner they really couldn’t afford?
Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
She snuck downstairs while her father was showering, and packed her bag quickly before going into the garage. Once she got to the train and there was no stopping her, she would call him and explain everything. Nauseous with guilt, she grabbed her bike, rolled it out the side door, and began to pedal.
She hadn’t left herself much of a window. It was crunch-time in a race that suddenly seemed like the most important one she’d ever run. It wasn’t until the scenery began to go by so quickly it was a blur, and her legs started to burn with the effort, that she realized how invested she was in getting there on time.
She spared a glance at her phone and noted that she was still on pace to make it on time. Until, ten seconds later, her pedals suddenly lost their resistance and she slowed to a stop. She looked down in horror to find that her chain had fallen off and would cost her precious moments that she didn’t have to spare.
She hopped off and crouched to put the chain back on with shaking hands, eyes filling with tears as a rusty link snapped and the chain fell to the ground with a clink.
She yanked out her phone and looked at the GPS. Two more miles. It was physically impossible to run it in the four minutes she had left, unless she found a cheetah to ride, but the panic closing over her at the thought of missing the train made it unacceptable for her not to at least try.
She shouldered her bag, pocketed her phone, and then?
She ran. With everything she had, Izzy ran.
She didn’t check the time again until she had arrived at the
station and was running up the stairs to reach the tracks. Her phone turned from 11:00 to 11:01 as she watched. The GPS must’ve been messed up because there was no way she could’ve ran two miles that quickly. The men’s world record for a mile was over four minutes and, if her GPS had been correct about the distance, she had run twice that fast.
Still, she was a minute late. Heart in her throat, she glanced down the track to her left and saw a train rolling away in the distance.
All this for nothing?
Tears blurred her vision as she walked into the large lobby next to the track, but she didn’t see anyone except for a few employees of the train company. She looked around frantically, checking outside next to the tracks, as well as the bathrooms, but there was no sign of Leonard Richardson.
She sat on a bench outside and put her head in her hands, wanting to puke. It was so stupid. All of it. Who knew if he’d even actually come, anyway?
She needed to accept her fate. She’d live in this town, work at the diner, and likely die here. But she’d have Sam and her dad and her other friends…maybe that was enough?
“Sorry I’m late,” a nasally voice to her left murmured.
Her head shot up and she looked into the rodent-like features of Leonard Richardson. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. “You’re here.”
“Of course. Our train leaves at 11:30. I wanted to make sure you had a little wiggle room in case you changed your mind last minute,” he reasoned with a smile.
“11:30?” she asked incredulously. “Do you have any idea how much I had to rush to get here?”
“I do, actually. I happened to pass you a few minutes ago, you were really motoring. Your speed far exceeded my expectations. I’m impressed.”
“Why didn’t you pick me up?” she asked, incredulous.
“You looked like you had it under control and I didn’t want to interrupt. You made it here with time to spare, so no harm done, right?”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Izzy muttered, storming away on shaking legs.
Nightgrove Academy Book One Page 2
