by Elise Noble
“Right.” The four of them stepped back as one, clearly unaccustomed to being turned down. “Well, see ya.”
The microwave pinged, and I took out the jug of boiling water and poured it into two mugs, one for me and one for Vanessa. Why didn’t Americans have electric kettles? Or egg cups? Or use the word “fortnight”? Their chocolate was peculiar too. And their selection of swear words was woefully inadequate. When I’d called Ryder a tosser for waking me up at six a.m. on a Sunday, he hadn’t a clue what I was talking about, but eventually he got the gist and told me he’d acted on Emmy’s orders. When I texted at five past six to call her a thundercunt, she’d understood exactly what I meant. And then she’d informed me we’d be running at eight thirty sharp.
“Here you go.” I put the mug on Vanessa’s nightstand. “I couldn’t find any teabags, so we’re stuck with coffee.”
“You drink hot tea in summer?”
Good grief. “Of course. Cold tea is an abomination.”
“You don’t have to make me drinks. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do, like going to the mall.”
“You heard what Carlie said?”
Vanessa looked away sheepishly. “The acoustics are weird in here. And Carlie’s voice could cut through steel.”
Noted. I’d have to be careful when I talked, especially to Blackwood. And Vanessa was right about Carlie.
“I’m happy to make you drinks. How’s your ankle this morning?”
“The swelling’s gone down.”
“Great. So why don’t we go to the mall together later?”
I didn’t think for a moment that Vanessa would accept, but I wanted to push her into talking to me. To understand her. We’d be sharing this space for weeks, and despite what I’d said before, life would be more pleasant if we could hold a conversation.
“I don’t go to the mall.”
“And yet you tried to make me go?”
“You can afford to go.”
“You can’t?”
“I get financial aid, okay? I’m not like most of the others here.” Vanessa’s gaze fixed on the floor. “Someone’s gonna tell you sooner or later, so you might as well hear it from me.”
“That’s it? That’s your big secret? You’re not rich? Who cares?”
“Around here? Almost everyone. The only thing worse than being poor is having money and then losing it. And then there’s my skin colour. I stick out in all the wrong ways.”
Now I understood. Vanessa used her prickliness as a defence mechanism. A spiky suit of armour. She wasn’t nasty underneath, but if she didn’t let anyone in, then nobody could hurt her.
“I thought Shadow Falls Academy was all about equality?”
“To paraphrase George Orwell, everyone’s equal, but some people are more equal than others. Animal Farm?” she added when she saw my blank look. “You haven’t read it?”
Only the first dozen pages, and then I gave up. The English teacher at Greenfields Comprehensive hadn’t given a shit.
“Nah, we mostly did Shakespeare. But I get an allowance. If you want to go to the movies, I can pay.”
And honestly, I’d like to. I’d spent so long not having money that it would be nice to help somebody else out for a change. But Vanessa just scowled.
“I’m not a charity case.”
“I wasn’t suggesting for a minute that you were.”
“You should go to the mall with Carlie.” I got the cold shoulder again. “Hang with me, and you can kiss your social standing goodbye.”
“If you don’t like it here, then why do you stay?” I asked.
“If it weren’t for the Rosenbergs, I’d have to live with my mother. I owe them everything. And at least here, I get a good education.” She showed me her back. “Go to the mall, Sky.”
I didn’t. Instead, I pulled on my running gear and took a fresh camera and earpiece from the wireless charging mat I’d stashed in the drawer of my nightstand. Nate had built me several sets of comms equipment, and today’s was disguised as regular AirPods, an Apple watch, and another pair of glasses. Nothing that would look out of place if anyone happened to glance in the drawer and see them charging there. I also had a box of single-use contact lenses so I had an excuse for not wearing the glasses all the time. Bradley had thought of everything.
“You doing okay?” Emmy asked once I was on the trail in the woods.
“Just peachy. How’s Zermatt?”
“I’m in Chamonix now. Don’t worry; there’s still plenty of mountains.”
“Why Chamonix?”
“Our client thought one of his people might have been selling company secrets, but we’re ninety percent sure he’s just screwing his mistress. I’ll probably fly home in a day or two. Anything new at Shadow Falls?”
I told her about the Britneys’ invitation and Vanessa’s confession. “I’m not sure what to do. Honestly, I hate all the cliquishness. I don’t want to act like a complete loner either, but Vanessa seems to be on Team Rosenberg.”
“If you were genuinely attending that school, what would you do?”
“Probably hang out with Vanessa. She seems nice under the hard shell, plus she’s my lab partner in chemistry and I can learn from her.”
“So do that.”
“You’re not worried where her loyalties might lie?”
“There’s an old saying—keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.”
“Vanessa isn’t my enemy.”
“But the same principle applies. You’re on a hill again, aren’t you?”
Had I slowed up? I checked the stats on my watch and found that I had. Shit. I sucked in a breath, put my head down, and pushed harder. Right into…bam. Right into Asher Martinez.
“I’m so sorry!”
I’d knocked him right on his ass, which was reasonably impressive because he was five or six inches taller than me and wider as well. Should I help him up? I held out a hand, but he was already on his knees. Emmy must have had access to a video feed because she was laughing her head off. But she’d screwed up too because I heard her talking to some guy in Chamonix.
“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. Just listening to a comedy podcast, and it’s hilarious.” Pause. “Which one? Uh, it’s called My Dad Wrote a Porno.” Pause. “Yeah, you should give it a listen.” Pause. “Sorry, dude. Married.”
So she wasn’t drafting the divorce papers yet. Interesting. I was in two minds over whether I wanted her and Black to make up. Yes, they were miserable without each other, but he’d done a really, really shitty thing and he needed to suffer.
“Guess that’ll teach me to look where I’m going, Chemistry Girl.”
“Sky. My name’s Sky.”
“Sky. I knew that.”
“Did you, Shortcut Boy? I’m surprised to see you out running considering the lengths you went to yesterday to avoid it.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Which were?”
“Are you always this nosy?”
I shrugged. “Pretty much.”
Asher just laughed. “Bye, Chem Girl.”
“Bye, Shortcut.”
“Who was that?” Emmy asked.
“My other chemistry lab partner,” I whispered once Asher had vanished into the distance. “Ezra and Saul Rosenberg’s nephew. He doesn’t seem to do much work.”
“There’s a nephew? Are you sure?”
“Vanessa told me yesterday. I presume whoever was monitoring me added it to the notes.”
“I’ll make sure it’s followed up.”
“Is there any more news on the paintings?”
“Nothing in Marshall’s PO box, but he recognised a groundsman in your video footage as a courier he handed a painting to three years ago. So it appears the Rosenbergs have quite the enterprise going at Shadow Falls. We’ve tapped the school’s phones, but I’m not expecting to get much from that. The Rosenbergs will speak to their team in person, and they’ll most likely use burners if they need to call clients. Why are you standing around, slack
er? You should be running.”
“You can be a real bitch.”
“Yes. Yes, I can. Now get going.”
CHAPTER 23 - SKY
AT GREENFIELDS COMPREHENSIVE, assembly meant fidgeting in a cold hall for fifteen minutes while the headmaster bollocked us for smoking behind the bike sheds, lamented our poor grades, begged us not to swear during next week’s Ofsted inspection, and reminded us that students weren’t allowed in the stationery cupboard, with or without a teacher. Especially with a teacher. Everyone knew where Channel in year twelve had got caught doing a practical with the biology teacher the previous Friday night. They hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. And yes, her name really was Channel. Pronounced Chanel, like the perfume, but her mum copied the spelling from her handbag and it was a knock-off.
At Shadow Falls, Mr. Rosenberg welcomed us to the start of a new week and encouraged us to sign up for the annual ski trip to Whistler if we hadn’t already, and then we were treated to a performance from the woodwind ensemble plus a motivational talk from a former pupil who’d clerked for a Supreme Court justice before starting her own law firm. I wasn’t worthy. And I was also beginning to see why the fees at Shadow Falls were so high.
“Monday morning blues, Chem Girl?”
“Huh?”
Asher put two fingertips to the corners of his mouth and pulled them down in an exaggerated sad face.
“Maybe I’m dreading the thought of spending the next eighty minutes sitting with you.”
That and the fact that my comms would most likely cut out again. Rune had started talking at six this morning, guessing what might come up in my chemistry lesson while I brushed my teeth and combed my hair.
“And there I was thinking you just weren’t impressed by my uncle’s line in self-righteous bullshit.”
Wait a second. Asher didn’t get along with his uncle? I’d assumed the whole family was tight. They lived and worked together, after all. The research was trickling in. Grandma Rosenberg—Tovah—lived in an annexe to the family home, which was set back in the woods to the east of the main school building. Officially, it was known as the Lodge, but it was the size of a mansion. Saul had the largest portion of the house. Until recently, his wife and daughter had shared it with him, but they’d moved out after a divorce—irreconcilable differences, apparently. According to the court documents, Ayda, the daughter, visited every other weekend, but I hadn’t seen her yet. Ezra appeared to live in a wing attached at a right angle beside the quadruple garage. I hadn’t yet worked out how Asher fitted into the accommodation arrangements.
Could he be testing me? Seeing where my loyalties lay? Or was the old Blackwood cynicism rubbing off on yours truly? They all had it. Emmy, Black, Rafael… Nate was the worst. Sometimes, he struck me as being one step away from full-blown paranoia.
“Mr. Rosenberg seems quite genuine to me.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “You’ve got chemistry now?”
“Yup.”
“Know where you’re going?”
Before I could answer in the affirmative, a high-pitched voice called out from behind us.
“Asher!”
I didn’t need to turn around to know it was one of the Britneys. Nor did it surprise me when Asher peeled away to talk to her. They seemed like each other’s type. Pretty to look at and vaguely annoying. I carried on to the chemistry lab.
“Good luck,” Rune whispered. “Sofia’s going to cover biology for me. I need to…” She trailed off. “Alaric wants me to speak to a therapist about what happened. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Moments like that were the worst part of my situation. I wanted to reach out and give Rune a hug, but I couldn’t even offer a word of sympathy.
“I’ll talk to you this evening,” she said, and then she was gone.
Vanessa was already in the lab, and… Oh, crap. There was equipment out on the bench. Beakers, thermometers, little dishes with powder in them.
“We’re measuring enthalpy changes,” she said. “What did you think of this morning’s talk?”
“Inspiring.”
“Another one who’s been drinking the Kool-Aid,” Asher said from behind me.
“Don’t you ever have anything nice to say?” Vanessa asked.
“About this place?” He shrugged. “What are we meant to be doing today?”
Dr. Merritt went over the instructions, and Asher decided he was helping Vanessa with the practical parts. That left me to write everything down, which was the easiest job. I could manage to draw a graph, just about. The lesson was almost fun.
Unlike biology.
I sat on my own at the front, only for Asher to walk in at the last minute and sit next to me. The lab was already too hot, possibly to keep the tankful of tropical frogs living on a shelf at the back happy, and his arrival made the back of my neck tingle. He didn’t have the same pheromone-laced aura as Rafael, but the vibes he gave off made me uncomfortable for a whole variety of reasons.
“Are you always late?” I asked.
“Ideally. If I get here any earlier, some girl sits next to me.”
I pointed at my boobs. “Hello? You sat next to me.”
“You don’t count.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? I wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re different.”
“In what way?”
Sofia was supposed to be an adult, and yet she was snickering away in my ear. I was one big joke to them, wasn’t I?
“You just are.”
Gee, that was helpful. “You seemed happy enough to speak to the Barbie dolls earlier.”
“If I don’t stop right away, they follow me around until I do. Trust me, it’s easier to get it over with.”
Asher had been reasonably bearable in chemistry. He’d taken some of the load off Vanessa and participated. Not so in biology. He scribbled a few sentences in unreadable handwriting and then leaned back in his seat, arms folded as the teacher covered the basics of human reproduction.
The mechanics, I could cope with—shove part A into slot B—just as long as I didn’t think about the actual experience. A bead of sweat rolled down my back, and I focused on writing. As long as ink was flowing across the page, I couldn’t seize up completely. Did I look normal? My spine prickled with ice crystals, little needles that jabbed into my back and reminded me that I was damaged inside.
And the final straw? When I was drawing an *ahem* diagram, Asher peered at it and smirked.
“Is that drawn from experience? Because you can do better than that, Chem.”
“Shut up. Aren’t you even going to take notes?”
“No need, babe. I already know all this stuff.”
“I’m not your babe, asshole.”
The teacher cleared his throat. “Sky, would you care to recap that last part?”
Why me? Why not Asher? Because he was a Rosenberg and I wasn’t? Vanessa was right—they paid lip service to equality here. My cheeks burned as I read out what I’d written. At that moment, I hated Asher Martinez and his whole damn family.
“What a dick,” Sofia said in my ear. “Chill, sweetie. Revenge comes later. Do you have gloves with you? I saw a clump of poison oak in one of your videos of the grounds.”
I wrote a reply on the edge of my paper. Yes, I have gloves.
“It’s a shame those are leopard frogs in that tank in the corner. If they were Phyllobates terribilis, we could have some fun with them. The golden poison frog. One can kill ten men, did you know that? When I lived in Peru, I kept half a dozen as pets. I’m thinking of getting more, but Leo isn’t keen on the idea.”
Poor guy. I pitied any man who lived with Sofia. She was certifiable. Emmy’s moral compass was wobbly, but Sofia’s pointed in the wrong direction entirely from what I’d seen of her.
I scrawled NO in the margin.
“It was just an idea. Okay, something more subtle. I saw what might have been Coprinopsis atramentaria over by the tennis pavilion.
The common ink cap mushroom. Eaten on its own, it won’t do much harm, but mix it with alcohol, and boom. He’ll be puking for days.”
STILL NO.
“You’re the life and soul of the fucking party, aren’t you?”
What were the frogs for, anyway? I had an awful feeling we were meant to dissect them. At Greenfields Comprehensive, they’d made us cut up mice and Johnny Mowlem threw the insides at me. That had been my last ever biology lesson. Until today, clearly.
When the teacher gave us a set of questions to read through and answer, I leaned closer to Asher.
“Do we have to dissect frogs?”
“Today?”
“Any day.”
“Yeah, why? You’re not gonna puke, are you?”
Maybe. “I don’t want to kill an animal.”
“How about a human?”
Did he know? How could he? I felt the colour drain out of my face.
“It’s getting more tempting by the second,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Chill, Chem. I’m joking. You seemed pretty pissed with me earlier, that’s all. And we don’t dissect real frogs. The girls freaked out last year, and the school ended up keeping them as pets. We have fake frogs now. They look just like the real thing, but they’re made of rubber.”
Phew. Rubber frogs I could deal with. Did Emmy get squeamish? Probably not.
I managed to ignore Asher for the rest of the lesson, and he made little effort to participate. Was this what it was like to be rich? The guy was squandering an education that cost more than most people’s salary each year.
His privilege made me angry. I might not have had much to show for my time in London, but I’d kept Lenny and myself out of jail, and everything I did have, I’d worked damn hard for. Vanessa had been right. Asher was a bum.
“You going swimming this afternoon?” he asked after class.
It was that or yoga, and swimming had its plus points. My training bruises had faded enough for me to wear a bathing suit now.
“Probably. You?”
“Nah.”
“You prefer downward-facing dog?”
He shook his head. “Not my thing. But watch out for Freddie Thornberg. He’ll offer to help with your stroke, but he just wants to cop a feel.”