Now, so long as Jake doesn’t screw his up, they’d-
Her mouth dropped open as she noticed that he had fired his shot at her target instead of his. He had split her first arrow right down the middle and another was already soaring through the air. One after another, he split each of her arrows until he reached the final one in the center. He sent his last shot flying and stood back with a nod, not even bothering to look and see if he hit his mark.
Needless to say, he did, and the crowd went wild as Izzy’s final arrow was decimated. Molly clapped wildly and high-fived him.
“Wow! That was super cool!”
Super cool? It was cocky and arrogant and selfish, is what it was. That wasn’t what they’d practiced at all. Could he really not stand to be out of the spotlight for one second? It was supposed to be a team exhibition to show off what they had been practicing, but he had totally stolen her and Molly’s thunder.
“Jake!”
Jake hopped off the platform, either ignoring or not hearing her. She jumped off the down as well and reluctantly accepted Molly’s high-five. Trent rolled out from under the platform, and Izzy heard Molly complimenting him, but Izzy’s sole focus was in front of her as she stormed after Jake.
Before she could reach him, the Dean warped into the space next to him.
“Excellent display, Jacob,” she said into the microphone as she held his arm up into the air.
She flipped the microphone off and exchanged a few words with him that Izzy couldn’t hear, while she stalked back to the stands where much of her class was preparing for the sword display that some of them had prepared.
Baxter looked at her sympathetically and she slowed as he lifted a hand.
“You have to admit, it was pretty impressive.”
“Right,” she scoffed, her whole body tense. “At the expense of the rest of us. You think there aren’t things I could’ve done to showboat? And anyway, he’s just a jerk, in general. He nearly punched a hole through Rebecca a couple weeks ago when he should’ve held back, and he’s been mean to everyone the whole semester. Whatever his problem is, I’m not here for it.”
Professor Baxter pursed his lips, his gaze full of sympathy, before he turned to watch the sword fighting display, the last of the evening, as he spoke quietly. “You think he didn’t hold back with Rebecca, Izzy?”
She swallowed hard and shrugged. “Sure seemed like he didn’t.”
“The boy has been training his whole life. You haven’t even seen half of what he’s capable of.”
She blinked, suddenly shaken. What was it with the guys here and the cryptic talk? “What does that mean?” she asked, sick of feeling like she was in a maze with no exit.
“I mean, he could’ve put his fist straight through her and skewered her if he’d wanted to. He’s pulled every punch he’s thrown since you all arrived. His mother will only allow him to be so soft without reprimanding him, though.”
“His mother?” Izzy said, swallowing hard. Why did she get the feeling she didn’t want to hear this?
“The Dean. Cassandra is his mother, didn’t you know that?” Baxter asked, turning his attention from the display with a frown.
Blood rushed to her ears and she stared at Jake’s retreating back as he stalked toward the locker rooms as the final exhibition came to an end.
More secrets.
Enough was enough.
Chapter 16
Izzy shoved through the locker room door, barreling in like she was going to battle. And maybe she was. When she found Jake, bare chested as he rifled through his locker, she didn't hesitate to unload on him.
"I'm done with you. Done with all of this nonsense. What was that out there? It was nothing like we'd practiced. Why? Just to hurt me?" Izzy demanded as she glared at him, trying not to notice his ripped physique and failing miserably. She wet her suddenly dry lips and looked away as she waited for his answer.
"We're on the same team. I would never go out of my way to hurt you," Jake finally answered, closing the locker door with a snap.
"Yeah, well, I'd hate to see how you treated someone on the other team, then," Izzy shot back, "because that was a garbage move you pulled. I'm here on a scholarship and you went out of your way to humiliate me out there." Her throat went tight with emotion, and the resulting shame that she'd let him get to her like that made her even angrier. "You might have your rich mom, the Dean, to pay your way for everything, but some of us aren't so lucky."
A muscle in Jake's jaw ticked and he stepped closer, hands balled into fists. "Lucky?" He let out a hard laugh. "You think having the Dean as my mom makes me lucky? Do you have any idea what my childhood was like, Izzy? While you and your little friends were playing tea party and hide and seek, I was in testing, hooked up to a monitor like a lab rat, so you don't know what you're even talking about."
“Powers don’t even manifest until late teens,” she murmured through numb lips. “Leonard told me that when he first recruited me…”
“Yeah. If there isn’t someone forcing the issue. And, believe me, my mother was all about dragging them to the surface as early as possible.”
Izzy's stomach bottomed out as her mind provided a flash of a younger Jake. A less jaded, more innocent version of himself running against a stopwatch. Every move he made being measured and recorded. That must've been awful.
As bad as she felt about that, though, it didn't make his behavior toward her or the others okay.
"Two things can be sad or bad at the same time, you know," she replied, a little more calmly now. "My mom is dead. It's only me and my dad now. He's worked nights for longer than I can remember, and money is a constant issue. It's been really tough on a lot of levels. You can't tell me not to make assumptions about you and then do the same to me. Not to mention that you told me we weren't out here trying to best each other. We were here to compete with ourselves and try to improve. Then you upstage me in front of everyone for no reason. Face it, Jake. You're a class A hypocrite."
Jake turned away before returning his gaze to study her face.
"I didn't split the arrow to show you up or embarrass you," he said finally in a defeated tone she'd never heard him use before. "And don't ask me why I did do it, because I can't tell you. Not without putting you in danger."
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Right. That again. The mysterious danger of Nightgrove Academy," she said, adding jazz hands for maximum snarky effect. "Where, apparently, murderers lurk around every corner and only Jake knows about them." She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "Spill it or stop with the mind games. I don't have time to play Sherlock with you, Jake. I've got too much to do here if I want to ensure I keep my place at the top of the class. I'm not going back to Wyoming until I've learned and grown enough here to get a great, high-paying job that I can use to support my family, and I refuse to let you ruin it for me."
"You're asking questions that you don't want the answers to. Leave it, Izzy. For once, can you just trust me?"
"Why should I?" she shot back.
"Because I'm asking you to, damn it," he shouted, the last thread of control finally snapping as anger rolled off him like a brewing storm. "And you owe me one for the other night, outside. If for no other reason, do it for that."
"Why do you hate me so much?"
As soon as the words were out, she wished she could snatch them back. Asking meant she cared...that his feelings about her mattered.
But as he padded toward her, nostrils flaring, she knew it was too late. In one, smooth motion, he grabbed her and pushed her hard against the lockers, making her gasp.
"I wish I hated you, Izzy. It would make my life a whole lot easier. I--" He broke off with a low growl. He dipped his head closer, only to jerk away when chatter echoed down the hallway.
"Let it go, Izzy," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with such gentleness, it sent butterflies flapping in her belly. "For now, at least. If, and when, I have something to tell you, I will."
The locker room door slammed and Max and Rebecca came in, chattering excitedly as Izzy and Jake broke apart.
"Hey, guys..." Rebecca said, her gaze flicking between them, a grin tugging at her lips. "Should we come back or…?"
"No," Jake said with a tight smile. "We're done talking."
Adrenaline still pounded in her veins as Jake opened his locker again and grabbed a shirt.
"I've got to go. See you back at the room?" she said to Max and Rebecca. She didn't wait for a reply as she hightailed it out of there.
After her discussion with Jake, she wasn't so cocky as to think she was right about everything, but she knew for sure he was wrong about one thing.
They definitely weren't done talking.
Not by a long shot.
Half an hour later, Izzy stood by her desk, staring down at the letter in her hand, brain whirring like a motor. She read it again, more slowly this time.
Dear Izzy,
First off, I missss you! The summer is dragging by and this town is just as boring as ever. I did kiss Patrick McKenna at a bonfire by the lake the other night, though. Not sure if it's going to be a thing or not, will keep you posted. Speaking of which, what's up with the no phone thing there? Gulag, much? I guess you guys must be getting a lot of studying and running done, since you have no way to communicate with anyone besides Pony Express.
Anyway, I got a summer job at the Bethany Farms produce stand, and I'm already running ten minutes late, so more later.
But it wasn't the top part of the letter that had Izzy in a tailspin. It was the postscript…
P.S. You mentioned in your last letter that Jessica dropped out, but if she did, she didn't come back to Stockridge. I saw her parents at FroYoOnTheGo last night and when I asked about her, they said she was doing great at her fancy school in Idaho. I'm wondering if she lied to them because she was too humiliated to come home? I tried to call her a few times, just to check on her, but it went straight to voicemail. Weird. Hope she's okay.
Izzy gnawed on her lower lip as a dozen scenarios ran through her mind. In the end, though, none of them sat well enough with her that she could just put it out of her head. What if Jessica had been sent home via train and never made it? Her parents might not even have known she'd tapped out, and she could be lying somewhere dead, or in some wackos basement chained to a dirty cot.
She pushed herself to her feet, resolved. There was no love lost between her and Jessica, and she'd been thrilled when the girl had left, but if something happened to her because Izzy kept this information to herself, she wouldn't be able to sleep at night.
She left the room right as the others came piling in, giggling madly.
"Ohh, there she is. Were you in here daydreaming about you and a half-naked Jake in the locker room?" Aiko said with a chuckle.
Izzy rolled her eyes and shot a grinning Rebecca a thorny glare. "Seriously?"
"It was big news, Izzy. I'm sorry, but I couldn't keep it to myself."
"Well, for the record, nothing happened." At least, almost nothing. "I can barely stand the kid and the feeling is mutual, so don't start with all this shipping nonsense."
"Right," Max chirped with a nod. "Got it. Because none of us can feel the tension between you two every time you're in the same room."
Izzy blew out a sigh and shook her head. "Whatever. Think what you want, I have bigger things to think about."
"Like what?" Aiko asked with a frown.
"Apparently, Jessica never went home when she left Nightgrove."
Aiko blinked and then shrugged. "Okay. And?"
"Don't you think that's strange? She's eighteen, doesn't have a job, and has always lived with her parents? Where else would she go?" Izzy asked.
"Don't know, and frankly, don't care."
Ashley winced and wrinkled her nose. "Frankly, I'm with Aiko. Jessica seems pretty capable of looking out for herself. She probably has mind-screwed a bunch of hot guys to carry her back home on a chariot like some Roman empress or something. She's like a cat. She always lands on her feet."
Izzy thought back to how pale Jessica had looked the past couple of weeks and shouldered her way past her friends. "Be that as it may, I'm going to talk to the Dean about it. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her."
"Okay, see you later, then?" Max called as Izzy made her way down the hall.
"See you later."
When she reached the Dean's office, she was surprised to find her there. She'd been thinking she might still be dealing with the aftermath of the exhibition, but instead, she was behind her desk, typing away at her computer. She looked up as Izzy rapped lightly on the doorframe.
"Hello, Isabelle. Good show out there today!" Dean Cassandra said with a wide smile. "We were all very impressed."
"We?" Izzy asked with a nod of thanks.
"Myself and the staff. We spoke afterward about all of you, at length. Professor Baxter feels like you're something special."
Izzy flushed and shifted her weight from foot to foot.
"That's really nice. I'm a big fan of his, as well. Um, and speaking of special, I wanted to ask you...Jessica? She tapped out a couple weeks ago and we're actually from the same town. I wrote to a mutual friend, who just wrote back today and mentioned Jessica didn't go back home. Did someone from the school make sure she got there safely or…?"
The Dean stopped tapping on the computer keys and settled more deeply into her expensive-looking leather chair. For a long moment, she was silent, and Izzy wondered if she was going to answer at all. Like mother, like son, apparently. But then, she finally spoke in a slow, measured tone.
"This is a...sensitive topic, Isabelle," the Dean said, pursing her lips. "And one I shouldn't even be speaking to you about, but given your personal connection with her and her family, and your worry, I'm going to give you what information I can. I'd ask that you not share any of it outside these walls."
Izzy nodded slowly. "Ok. I won't say anything."
"Jessica has been struggling for quite a while now. The curriculum in our one-on-one sessions was grueling, but necessary, in order to ensure that she used her powers in a way that was safe for herself and others. This particular type of gift can be very destructive. Despite our efforts, it got to be too much for her and she had a bit of an emotional breakdown. When she rang the bell and came to my office, she asked that we help her find a mental health facility to go to for a time. Both to discuss her feelings and work through her emotions, as well as to try to acclimate herself to the idea of going back to regular life. She requested that we not inform her parents until she was ready to tell them herself."
The Dean splayed her hands and shrugged.
"She's eighteen, and an adult, so we had no choice but to honor that request. That said, the letter you received could've been from a week ago or longer. She may have already spoken to them by now."
Izzy let that information marinate for a minute before replying.
"Has anyone actually spoken to her since she left? My friend said she couldn't get through on her cell phone."
"That's true," Dean Cassandra confirmed with a clipped nod. "They don't allow phones, either. Social media is a detriment to therapy. But I've been making daily inquiries about her status and have talked to her doctors. She's doing very well."
Izzy let out a breath and tried to will the knot of worry in her stomach away. It made sense. Frankly, even if Jessica had contacted her parents by now to tell them what happened, they wouldn't have shared that information with Sam. It was a sensitive topic, to be sure.
"I hope she gets the help she needs," she murmured.
"She will. And might I offer you some advice for your own mental health, Isabelle?"
"Sure," Izzy said, knowing the question was rhetorical but replying anyway to be polite.
"It's better to adjust your expectations here at Nightgrove. This isn't like a regular college. We expect to lose a good 10% of the class to tap outs before year one has passed. Not everyone is cut
out to be superhuman or handle all the responsibilities that come along with it."
The Dean paused and then peered down at her watch. "You'd better head to the cafeteria. They’ll be locking up for the night and putting away the snacks, and I'm sure you're hungry after that display this afternoon."
The Dean began tapping on her keyboard again and Izzy knew she'd been dismissed.
As she made her way down the hall, she couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t gone off the deep end a little. Maybe Jake and his conspiracy theory ramblings had gotten the better of her. Sure, there were things that seemed strange here at Nightgrove, but it was a school for genetically gifted human beings. Likely the first of its kind, at least, that she knew of. It was bound to be strange, wasn't it?
She pushed aside her reservations and headed to the cafeteria as her stomach let out a rumble. Jessica was fine and that was that. She needed to stop letting herself get distracted from her goal. To make a better future for her and her father. End of story.
It was time to stop playing Nancy Drew, forget about Jessica, forget about Jake, and most of all? Forget about that almost-kiss in the locker room.
Somehow, though, she had a feeling all of that would be far easier said than done...
Chapter 17
“How you feeling, sleeping beauty?” Aiko said as Izzy rolled out of bed super late the next morning while the rest of them were getting ready to leave for lunch. “Thought you were waiting for Jake to come wake you up with a kiss or something.”
“After that stunt he pulled yesterday with the arrows, he’d be more likely to get a kick than a kiss from me,” Izzy said, cheeks flaming hot. She would count herself lucky that none of her roomies were as good at reading micro-expressions as Professor Baxter was. If they ever found out about her conflicting, love/hate feelings for Jake, she’d never live it down.
Those thoughts and a million others had kept her up late the night before, and she wished things could just go back to whatever passed for normal around this place.
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