"Come on," I pulled at him. "Let's get this over with.”
I hopped out and turned toward the gothic architecture of Lakefield High and shuddered. Its historical appearance seemed the perfect backdrop for our secret academy, but somehow, the accuracy only made my anxiety worse.
Shane came around to my side of the car as I closed the door, and he leaned into me, pressing against me with his body.
Every fiber of my being opened up to him as he whispered in my ear. "I'll hold you to that promise. It's the only thing keeping us apart."
His words warmed my cheeks as I imagined the intimate acts he was thinking about. Then my head jolted in the direction of a crass chirp.
"Oh, how sweet. Slumming it with a junior now that Dom's gone." Laney walked past us, sniggering with her friends.
In an instant, I pushed out from Shane's cover and launched at her.
My vision blurred with rage as her words cut too deep to deflect.
Just as I caught hold of some of her hair, Shane grabbed me from behind. Laney faltered with a shriek and pulled away.
I stood huffing with long strands of perfectly straightened blonde hair hanging from my fingers.
"Whore," she blasted at me while combing her fingers through her ruffled hair. "Keep your dirty hands off me."
And in a blur of perfectly-coiffed minions, she disappeared with her posse.
Trembling, I stared at Shane.
Laney's words not only disrespected Dom, belittling the fact that he was lost in the abyss of the curse, but they held the sickening power to cut Shane too.
His pursed lips proved she’d gotten to him.
"She's such a bitch," I cried, feeling defeated.
He swallowed hard and hitched his pack higher onto his shoulder. "Let's go before we're late."
Sitting through English was the worst torture of my life. Not only did I have to endure Laney's antagonistic glares, but I was trapped in hell, waiting for Shane to reply to my texts.
It was obvious her comment about Dom had hurt him. Dom was his arch-nemesis, and it was no secret the two of us had chemistry. I felt guilty just thinking about how it felt when Dom and I flirted. And for Laney to rub that in Shane’s face was beyond low.
But now that I had had the time to get to know Shane, I knew the difference between a crush and the real thing.
Problem was, Shane felt threatened by Dom. That condition had been implanted in him at a very early age when Dom had bullied him when they were kids. The fact that Dom was at the woods the day Laney tricked Shane would always bother him. The scars ran deep and grew even deeper over the years.
Laney knew exactly what she was doing when she brought up Dom's name in front of Shane.
Bringing his insecurity back to the surface.
Ruining the moment between us.
I sat in class, thinking only of the moment I’d be with Shane again.
Mr. Benson droned on in our Socratic Circle, expecting full participation from every student. I prayed I'd get out of this class alive.
We'd just started the unit on Crime and Punishment, and Mr. Benson was eager to hear our takes on the values the major characters represented. He wanted to hear our interpretations of the symbolism of the dreams in the story. I cringed at the thought of having to think of anything other than Shane.
I had to admit, though, there were some interesting parts in the novel. The dreams were my favorite because they were the force that moved the story along, and honestly, my life was beginning to feel the same way.
It was like an outside force was moving my life forward, and I was only along for the ride. Taking control back was my priority.
"Brynn?" Mr. Benson's voice smacked me out of my daydream. "Can you elaborate on the awakenings and changes of consciousness woven throughout the novel?"
I stared around the circle at my classmates, all staring back with curious gazes. They always seemed intrigued by my responses in this class, but I was sure to disappoint them this time. I'd missed the entirety of whatever transpired before me.
So, I just pulled my response out of my ass.
"Well, I think Raskolnikov's pride gets in the way." I glanced at Laney. "He thinks he’s superior to everyone else, which makes it impossible for him to relate to anyone."
I knew I was off-topic, but focusing on the central theme of the book was my only out at the moment.
I continued. "He alienated himself from society, which leads to the criminal and moral issues of the story."
This time my gaze remained fixed on Laney, to the point everyone looked her way as well.
Her face reddened in anger, recognizing my double-entendre, but I didn’t care. After what she had said in the student lot, I was still fuming.
Suddenly, her voice exploded into the circle with a shrill blast. "Well, maybe helping Marmeladov get home so that he could die, was his best coping strategy." She stared me down.
I wasn't sure if it was the indirect death threat or the fact that she had the gall to even speak to me, but my temper hit the roof.
As fighting words formed on my tongue, my attention shot to the sting, and then the burn, on my hands. With a grimace, I looked down and watched as a subtle purple hue glowed in my palms, getting brighter by the millisecond. I tucked my hands under my thighs and sat on them.
Holy shit.
My fireballs were nearly ready to launch at her, right here in school, in front of everyone. My lips pulled back, baring my teeth, as I attempted to look innocent. I broke away from Laney's glare and lowered my eyes to the floor.
To everyone else, it appeared she’d won our battle of wits, but to me, I knew I'd just spared myself, and the UMAs, from exposure. Allowing my purple flames to be seen in school would be the end of us all.
Laney sniggered and sat taller in her chair. She smirked at Mr. Benson as if she'd received the top prize at the spelling bee.
Pressing firmly onto my hands, I called out, "Don't forget, Raskolnikov's isolation from others caused him to turn on his own mother. He punished her without concern. Vile."
Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?
I had to go ahead and get the last word.
But it was true.
There was no way I would let Laney get the final word.
Ever again.
The students around me began sniggering, trying to hide their amusement from Laney. But she didn't miss it. Her reddening face had gone crimson by this stage, and it was clear she wasn't planning to back down. She'd likely noticed the purple glow on my hands as well, having seen it before in full action.
She'd do anything to expose me now.
And then it started.
She chimed, "Whatever. What you seem to forget is Raskolnikov's theory about crime. It’s the duty and obligation of the ordinary people to uphold the law, but remember, it's the extraordinary people who get the perks of living by different rules."
Okay, I had a clue about what she was referencing within the novel, but not a single clue on how that response could gain her fight points. And if nothing else, she was dabbling in exposing our supernatural tendencies but calling herself extraordinary. I was just plain baffled.
But then a wave of negativity moved through the circle as the other students absorbed her message. Their faces soured, and a vocal student across from me, Gustavo, stood and sprayed his demonstrative personality all over Laney.
"Are you saying you're better than us?” he blasted. “We're just ordinary in comparison to your extraordinariness?" He pointed his finger around the circle. "Like, you're actually saying that out loud?"
The other kids grumbled and nodded. Everyone stared at Laney with twelve years of tortured disdain, from kindergarten through 12th grade.
She shot her anxious eyes to mine, pleading for me to say something, to get her out of the mess she just created.
Instead of getting the last word this time, I only grinned, sitting back to enjoy the show.
Chapter 8
At the soun
d of the bell, my body flinched in an attempt to be the first out the door. But Laney reacted even faster. In the blink of an eye, she vanished out of the classroom, leaving everyone speechless.
Did Laney Rosco just perform social suicide?
I wasn't sure, but her social faux pas, calling her classmates ‘ordinary’, certainly felt good in the moment. Whether it would stick or not would remain to be seen.
I trucked it to physics, desperate to see Poorva. It was ridiculous the amount of tea I had to spill, and the irony of teen-queen behavior wasn't lost on me.
Scouring the halls for any sign of Shane, I entered the physics classroom with a desperate heart. It would have been nice just to catch a glimpse of him.
Poorva sat frozen and expressionless in her seat. Out of pure disappointment, I ignored her affect and plopped down at my desk next to her.
"I've been dying to see you," I chimed. "We have so much to catch up on."
She blinked and turned her gaze to me. "Do you not see it?"
I pulled back from her ominous tone and searched my mind for whatever she might be talking about.
"I don't see anything," I whispered.
She swallowed hard as if fighting back tears.
"I think it's Laney. She's prying into my brain." She dropped her head onto her desk and wrapped her arms around the back.
I struggled to get my next words out, not wanting to hear the response to them.
"What are you seeing?" I squeaked.
"It's Shane," she murmured.
My spine straightened from the sheer force of my heart, accelerating from zero to sixty in under a second.
"What about Shane?"
She turned toward me fully. I was sure she was about to reach for my hands as if ready to tell me the bad news.
Without any control of my own body, I turned away from her. It was as if my subconscious took over to protect me from whatever she was about to say. And it was right to do so. I didn't want to hear it.
Because I already knew.
I lifted a hand to stop her from saying anything else as I pushed through the threatening tears.
There was no way I could cry in school.
For one thing, everyone would think Laney had broken me, and I'd avoid that assumption at all cost. But also, it was against my nature to let anyone see me cry. I was the strong, stoic girl—the ‘new girl’ who wasn't bothered by anything.
Except for the safety of my new family.
The UMAs.
And more specifically, Shane.
I turned back to Poorva with resignation written all over my face. I couldn't avoid the truth of this moment, particularly with her.
"His soul." I stated the words in a matter-of-fact tone.
Poorva's eyes widened, and then she nodded in silence.
A lump formed in my throat, making it nearly impossible to speak of it. I just nodded back.
We sat without saying another word, barely noticing the start of class.
Dr. Corley came in like a whirlwind, spouting calculations and predictions to be made for the day's lab.
"Welcome to paradise, people," he chided. "Prepare to be baffled by today's project, and don't come crying to me with your questions. I expect some effort and trouble-shooting on your part. This is a helpless-free zone."
His sarcasm typically entertained me, but today, his comments morphed into a blur of nothingness. His words moved over me like a wave as I sat drowning beneath the weight of an ocean.
Before long, Poorva and I were at our bench, moving through the steps of the complex lab.
Dr. Corley's voice moved us forward as he addressed the class further. "The strobe light will mark the free fall of the object, allowing you to calculate the acceleration of gravity." He walked around the lab tables with his hands clasped behind his back. "The hypothesis you will try to prove will answer the one question. Does the size or weight of an object change its acceleration when falling to the Earth?"
My common sense jumped to the conclusion that the size and weight of an object would affect its acceleration. But clearly, if that obvious conclusion were correct, this lab wouldn't exist.
I whispered to Poorva. "So, if you drop a feather and a bowling ball, they'll fall at the same rate?"
She shrugged. "If you remove air resistance, then, according to this lab, yes."
I pressed my lips to the side while processing my opinion on that statement. It seemed like more than gravity was involved in such a thing. We had a timer set up, with a strobe light, to make our calculations. So, time was required in some way.
We dropped the penny, and the strobe light flashed faster than our eyes could detect, leaving shadows on the thin paper behind the coin.
As I studied the increasing distance between the shadows, my mind raced with theories and possibilities.
Dr. Corley passed our bench just as my head shot up in enlightenment.
I mumbled, "Time isn't affected. It only allows the moment to exist."
He stopped in his tracks and came closer. "So the question must be, is time linear or circular?"
I hesitated, considering any recent movies I'd seen on time warps or space travel.
Rubbing my eyes, I said, "I don't see it as linear. It's more complex than that."
This, I knew to be true. The portal had proven that to me.
He studied me for a moment, then added, "Time doesn't flow or move, as many people who live by the clock seem to believe. But it is time which allows other things to move and flow."
My eyes narrowed on him. "Time is used as a reference point. A point which can be traveled in either direction."
His head tipped. "Linear?"
I thought of my experiences in the portal and the sensations that moved through me each time.
"No." I shook my head.
"Circular?" he suggested.
I continued to shake my head. "No." I glanced back at the items in the lab that generated my thought process. Then it came to me.
I glanced back at Dr. Corley. He watched me as if suspended, waiting for my next words.
"Spiral," I stated.
His eyebrows lifted, and then he tapped the side of his head with a finger. "That's using your mind." He nodded with a grin and moved on to the next table.
"What the hell was all that?" Poorva stared at me with lost eyes.
I gasped from the onslaught of concepts of time and how it worked. Understanding it would allow us to use the portal more effectively, rather than being victim to its devices.
"Time, Poorva. Removing the restrictions of time and understanding its true nature will help us fix this mess. Mathematical disproof. It’s right here in front of us."
I gestured to the lab, and she just continued to stare at me blankly.
"I don't get it."
I chuckled and shrugged. "Neither do I. But the idea is in my head now, so we have a start."
"So it's a link between the supernatural world and the natural world that will get us where we need to be," she stated.
A broad smile spread across my face. "Exactly."
It was the first time I felt a sense of understanding in any of the craziness that has been happening to us. At the start, it all seemed like magic and mysticism, but now, thanks to Dr. Corley's advanced understanding of physics, I had to believe that the natural laws of science applied here as well.
But at a higher level of typical human understanding.
And we were far from typical.
As we tidied our lab station, Poorva and I chattered about all the possibilities that had just opened up to us.
"If we loop back to the right moment, we could reverse the events that probably should have never occurred anyway,” Poorva speculated.
I nodded in agreement. "If we can connect moments of time that had split somehow, broken into different planes, and return them to the spiral, the flow will become natural again.”
Our ideas seemed to make perfect sense in the moment, and I prayed it wasn't just rando
m gibberish that would make no sense once we tried to prove it.
"Poorva," I muttered. "We need to save them. It's not right what's happening. And Shane’s soul…."
"I know," she assured me. "Laney's family is twisting time to their advantage. Using it to manipulate what they want. They have no idea that they can possibly be saved. It's like they've accepted their fate and are now functioning within those confines."
Poorva reached to her head and made an explosion gesture.
It was true, my mind was blown beyond comprehension as well. It all seemed to make sense, but at the same time, none of it made sense.
The bell rang, and we jumped with a start.
"Meet at the church after school?" I confirmed.
"Yup. Time to get planning."
She hugged me as I swung my pack onto my back. At first, the gesture of affection caught me off guard, and my natural instinct was to pull back. But then, I dropped my shield and hugged her back.
Allowing myself to share this moment with Poorva felt incredible, but at the same time, unsafe. The natural exchange had proven our friendship and reliance on one another. Now, another vulnerability.
As we went our separate ways through the halls of Lakefield, I pulled my high school armor back on, in case I had a run-in with Laney or any of her cronies. Keeping my head down, I rushed toward the history wing, feeling my temperature rise with thoughts of seeing Shane finally.
His pride had taken a hit from Laney's stabbing words. Last thing he needed now was a reminder of Dom and any connection to me. I just needed a moment with Shane in private, to reassure him of where things stood.
My head dropped back in annoyance from the necessity of having to patch him up.
As I turned the last bend, I flinched from the sight of Coach Mac, the hot gym teacher, standing where Ms. Harrison usually was. Coach Mac always subbed when a teacher was absent, and I was shocked at my negative reaction to his presence. This was the first time, ever, that I was disappointed to see a sub instead of my real teacher.
Coach Mac fist-bumped me as I entered the classroom, and his voice boomed behind as he greeted some of the football players in the hallway.
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