Loop

by Karen Akins

  “Bennis!” The arteries on Coach Black’s sweaty neck flared in and out like angry gills when he saw me. “Whaddya think you’re doing up here?”

  Subterfuge, identity theft, and some light espionage work.

  “Nothing. I needed some air.”

  “Some air?”

  “Yes, sir.” With the lie off my lips, it didn’t sound so absurd after all.

  He pointed toward the center of the Pentagon. “Was the five acres of green space not good enough for you for some reason?”

  Hrmm. I started to stammer an answer, but he cut me off.

  “Aren’t you even going to ask why I’m looking for you? Why everyone is looking for you.”

  “Of course.” I’d play this as naïve as possible.

  “It’s your roommate Mimi.”

  “Oh, yes. Before I came up here, someone mentioned she’d fainted on one of the rides. Nurse Granderson was fixing her up.”

  “Fainted? I don’t know anything about that. But she fell down a flight of stairs a few hours ago.”

  His words dangled in the air. Sharp as knives, dull as a hammer.

  “What?” I gasped. My entire body went numb.

  “The other students are back at the Institute. A handful of teachers are still here to look for you.” It came out like an accusation, like I had shoved Mimi down the stairs or something.

  “Where is she? Is she all right? Can I see her?” Without waiting for an answer, I turned to run for the hatch Coach Black had emerged from.

  He caught me by the shoulder. “She’s at the hospital. We’re waiting for news.”

  “Can you take me to her?”

  “No.” He pressed his hand on the top of my head as I descended the ladder like he alone was the gravity that held me to the earth. “Someone else is keen on having a word with you.”

  Coach Black offered no further information about Mimi’s condition the whole way back to the Institute. It was torture. Chase me. Dangle me. Slam me. But talk to me.

  An hour later—still no word on Mimi. The only slight positive was that I was waiting outside Headmaster Bergin’s office rather than Quigley’s. He was the lesser evil by a long shot.

  My relief was short-lived.

  chapter 23

  BERGIN WASN’T IN HIS OFFICE yet when Dolores ushered me in. The entire top of his desk was aglow with compufilm. At first I assumed it was paperwork, until I leaned forward and saw that it was news clippings about his wife’s accident, mostly editorials debating how such a tragedy could and should have been prevented. At first I wondered why he was obsessing over it now, but then I noticed the date in one of the articles and realized tomorrow was the anniversary of the accident.

  I snapped back against my chair and turned around as two shadows widened across the desk until they merged into one. Quigley loomed behind Bergin with a look on her face that conveyed new heights of annoyance. At first I felt panicked to be caught in her eager clutches, but then a resolute anger took its place.

  Headmaster Bergin slipped his colleague a wary sidelong glance before walking around the desk and sinking into his overstuffed armchair. He pulled out a data disk and tapped the edge, sucking the news clippings into it. His eyelids had a new set of bags under them since the last time I had visited his office. Guilt prickled my gut. What with this anniversary and Mimi’s accident, my recklessness was the last thing Bergin needed to deal with right now.

  “Miss Bennis,” he began. His mustache ruffled as he blew a mouthful of air through it and backed up. “Bree. Let me start by saying you’re not in trouble.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No. I’m not angry. I’m…” He looked up at Quigley, who was staring out the window, lips pursed tight. “We’re concerned. All of your teachers and the whole staff. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately. Perhaps you haven’t had adequate support following recent events.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I owe you an apology.” He kept on speaking like I hadn’t. “I believed, or perhaps convinced myself, that you were coping without difficulty. But even aside from your recent accident—”

  “My accident?”

  “Falling off the bus on your last mission,” Quigley said without lifting her gaze from the window one inch. The glass reflected the dean of discipline’s smug expression. Her breath clouded the glass, but from the chill I felt it could have been frost.

  Bergin’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. Nurse Granderson seemed positive you didn’t experience serious head trauma, but—”

  “No, no,” I said. “It’s been a long day. I’ve been worried about Mimi.”

  “Didn’t Coach Black tell you how she was? I’m so sorry. This must have been so vexing for you. Your roommate had a few broken ribs and bruises, a minor concussion, but she should mend quickly. However, I do want to speak with you about what happened.”

  Relief rushed through me. Mimi was going to be okay.

  “I don’t know much,” I said. “I was up on the roof when she had her accident.”

  “Yes. Accident.” The headmaster opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a stack of compufilm. “We have reason to believe it may not have been one.”

  I leaned forward to the edge of my chair. “You think she was pushed?”

  Bergin’s chair wobbled and he looked up in a startle. “I didn’t say ‘pushed.’ Why would you think she was pushed?”

  Quigley remained motionless on the other side of the room. I ventured a peek out of the periphery of my vision. Only one person had eavesdropped on Mimi and me at the Pentagon that morning. And only one person had told us straight out she’d be watching us all day. Only one person had last accessed Poppy Bennis’s Shift record, which had been erased. And now that one person was standing across from me while my mom and roommate were lying in hospital beds.

  I held the back of Quigley’s head in a captive glare before returning my full gaze to Bergin. I might not know why my mom was attacked, but I was certain of the who.

  “No reason,” I said smoothly. I needed to wait until I was alone with Bergin to tell him what I’d heard in the locker room.

  “I understand Miss Ellison and a student transporter, Mr., umm”—Headmaster Bergin shuffled the compufilm around on his desk and pulled up a sheet with notes scribbled on it—“Mr. Charles Wu, they’re close?”

  “Yes.” Wait. Where was he going with this?

  “Did she seem upset about the relationship in any way?”

  “I don’t know that you could call it a relationship, per se. She and Charlie like each other. A lot. They’ve gone out a couple times. Kind of.”

  “So Miss Ellison wasn’t angry at him for any reason?”

  “No,” I said with half a shrug.

  “Or”—Bergin took a deep breath and looked at his hands—“carrying his child?”

  “What?” The chair I’d been sitting in clattered over as I jumped up. What on earth? “Who said that? That’s beyond laughable!”

  Bergin motioned me to right the chair and sit back down. “Another student seemed to think … Oh, it doesn’t matter. It was clearly false. You know how rumors can fly.”

  The room had taken on a red tinge in the corners of my vision. Mimi had overheard Quigley say something that raised a red flag. Quigley must have found out and come up with this student story to slander Mimi and cover her tail.

  “So, what?” I asked. “You’re suggesting Charlie pushed her?”

  “No one is suggesting anyone pushed Miss Ellison.”

  “Then you think Mimi threw herself down the stairs? Because she was pregnant? Mimi’s never even kissed a guy, much less … Good grief. And with Charlie? They’re, like, the patron saints of handholding.”

  Bergin shook his head with a heavy sigh. “We were simply hoping you could provide some insight into this incident, given your close friendship with Miss Ellison.”

  “Yes, we are close.” I looked over at Quigley. “I would do anything to protect her. Anything.”

 
; This could be my only chance to trap the Quig into talking. I needed to put out some tasty cheese to get my teacher to bite, though.

  “There was one thing.” I tapped my finger against my chin. “Probably nothing. But when we were waiting for our Pentagon ticket tattoos this morning, Mimi mentioned she’d seen something odd earlier.”

  “Odd? Did she tell you what it was?”

  “No.” I hesitated. “She didn’t get the chance.”

  “Sir!” Quigley traversed the room in three swift steps and stood in front of his desk, blocking my view. “I hardly think this is the time to sit and idly speculate about all the possible gossipy teenage angst that could have prompted Miss Ellison to toss herself down the stairs. We don’t even know for certain that it’s the case.”

  And that’s how to trap a rat.

  “True.” Bergin strained forward like he wanted to question me further, but then he looked up at Quigley and leaned back in his chair.

  “The important thing is that we expect Mimi to have a full recovery,” he said. Quigley had moved to the side, and I saw her flash the headmaster a meaningful look. He lowered his head in a defeated nod.

  “But that brings us back to the other reason I wanted to speak to you,” he said. “Certain staff members feel that you would benefit from a recovery time of your own.”

  Quigley fluttered her eyelids. I could have sworn I detected another smirk before Bergin went on. “A time of rest and relaxation away from the rigors of the Institute.”

  “But the Institute’s my home.” The only home I had left. For a split second, everything disappeared. The enigmatic grin, the stolen file, Mimi’s accident—everything. Suddenly I felt like my wide-eyed twelve-year-old self, crossing the school’s threshold for the first time, falling in love with every corner and cranny. Going on my first solo mission, my thumb glued to the panic button on my QuantCom the whole five minutes as I walked across that empty field that would become First Time Forest and planted an acorn in the middle. Home.

  “And the Institute will continue to be your home,” soothed Bergin, “after you’ve had a chance to restore yourself to top form in a more accommodating environment.”

  “Is she putting you up to this?” I couldn’t help but ask. Though I didn’t give Quigley the satisfaction of so much as a sideways glance.

  “I assure you, no one is putting anyone up to anything,” said Bergin. He looked up at my teacher guardedly. “But as the dean, yes, Dr. Quigley does have the final say on student discipline procedures.”

  “I thought you said I wasn’t in trouble.”

  “Bree, please—”

  “Do you see what the strain is doing to her?” Quigley cocked her head to the side and put on a brilliant display of mock pity. “I think the sooner Miss Bennis leaves for Resthaven, the better.”

  Resthaven? What? No! She couldn’t do this.

  I pulled myself together. “No thank you,” I said as if declining Tea with the King of England.

  The headmaster’s cheeks flushed. “I’m afraid it’s not an invitation. More of a firm request.”

  “And I’m afraid I’ll need to decline either way.” Who cared about classes and missions and sleeping in my own bed? If they shipped me off to Resthaven, I could kiss any payments for my mother good-bye. ICE wouldn’t want a deranged girl for a spokesanything.

  And I still needed to get Finn home. And prove my mother hadn’t messed with her chip. And work things out with Leto. No!

  “It won’t be permanent.” Bergin had apparently not prepared for my dissent. He was sputtering like a half-empty teakettle.

  “But I—”

  “You’re leaving tomorrow morning.” Quigley cut me off. “Stay out of trouble until then.” Her voice was distant and matter-of-fact. Like she hadn’t, in one fell swoop, stripped away everything I had left to care about.

  They couldn’t make me go. I’d … I’d run away. Of course, I wouldn’t get far with a microchip in my skull.

  The sun had burned its way through a layer of clouds outside. Its light filtered into the office. Ironic. Dark rainstorms earlier when the day was so full of hope. Sunshine now that it was all gone.

  Bergin looked miserable as well. For the first time since I had come to the Institute, he seemed small. I couldn’t imagine how many strings Quigley had pulled to force this move to Resthaven. I beseeched Bergin with my eyes: Do something. But he hung his head.

  The headmaster’s hand tremored up to his pocket, the one where he kept his antique pen. His thumb twitched in an anxious tic like he was clicking the end of the pen in and out in his nervous habit, but then he looked up at the dean and seemed to think better of showing even that much weakness. He formed his hand into a fist instead and dropped it to his lap.

  “I believe that’s all, Lisette,” he said quietly to Quigley. “I have one additional matter to discuss with Bree.”

  “I’d be happy to stay,” she said.

  “No, no. It doesn’t concern you.”

  Ha! I shot the Quig a scathing look.

  “Very well.” With that, Quigley turned on her heel and strode out of the room, but she didn’t look happy about it.

  Headmaster Bergin reached out to squeeze my hand, which was lying on the desk in a lifeless heap. “There’s no reason to believe this will be a long stay at Resthaven. We’ll have you back as soon as possible, right as rain. I will see to that.”

  Yeah, right.

  “However”—Bergin pulled his hand back—“there is one thing I wanted to discuss with you before you left. It’s about your mother.”

  “Has ICE changed their minds?” I shook my head. I’d failed. She was headed to Resthaven, too. At least we’d be together.

  “Bree, there have been some … some setbacks in her condition.”

  “What?”

  “I received a call this morning. She’s destabilizing. The doctors are doing everything they can, but—”

  Leto. Leto had gotten to her. Wait. Bergin said “this morning.”

  “I spoke with her nurse this afternoon,” I said. “She was fine.”

  “You did?” Bergin looked genuinely startled. “Perhaps … perhaps they didn’t want to worry you before they had a chance to speak to you in person.”

  But that meant it couldn’t have been Leto.

  “I’m sorry, Bree,” said Bergin. “ICE will still pay for her hospital bills for as long as it’s … necessary.”

  I choked on a sob.

  If it wasn’t Leto, there was only one other person who could have gotten to her. Quigley! She had done this. I wouldn’t let her get away with it.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said. “It’s about my moth—”

  Bergin’s intercom sounded and his assistant’s voice filled the room: “Headmaster Bergin?”

  “Yes, Dolores?”

  “There’s an urgent call for you on your speak-eazy, channel one. Private communication requested.”

  “Please excuse me, Miss Bennis.” He picked up the receiver and said, “Bergin speaking … Yes.… Oh, no.” His hand drifted to his mouth and he blew out a deep breath. “I see. Yes, I understand. I’ll notify the necessary people immediately.”

  When the call ended, he stood up and wandered to the window. His head bobbled from side to side. After a few moments, he turned to face me. The rims of his eyes were bloodshot.

  “I’m so sorry to tell you this, Bree, but your roommate, Mimi, has taken a turn for the worse. Her concussion must have been more serious than they realized at first. I … I don’t have any easy way to say this. She’s slipped into a coma.”

  chapter 24

  SLEEP MAY HAVE COME. Maybe not. I couldn’t tell. Nor did I care. Salty tears had glued my eyes shut.

  My Buzz had returned full force over the last few hours. If it even was the Buzz at this point. Since my forced fade, there was no rhyme or reason to it. Pain during class and meals. Fine when I was in my room. No telling how many Buzztabs I’d downed. Dozens.<
br />
  Plink. Plink plink.

  And apparently, I was experiencing auditory hallucinations as well. I smooshed my pillow around my ears and squinched up against the wall. Maybe I was going insane after all.

  Plink plink.

  Plunk.

  I put my pillow down and sat up. There was no way I had imagined that.

  The window whined as I pushed the button to open it. Two stories below, Finn stood in the bushes squinting up and chucking pieces of—

  “Ow.” Whatever it was hit my cheek. “What are you throwing?”

  “Sorry,” Finn whisper-shouted. “Rocks.”

  A smattering of stones already littered the windowsill. I picked one up. Purple. “Where did you find a purple…?” Oh my gosh. “Please tell me you haven’t kept those stupid Muffy van Sloot rocks on you this whole time.”

  “You never know when pebbles will come in handy.”

  “When on earth would pebbles come in—ow!” Another rock stung my cheek.

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

  I brushed the rest of the colored rocks into my palm and leaned over to my desk to dump them into my fishbowl. “Sorry, Fran.”

  When I turned back to the window, the telltale ping of the grappling hook sounded outside. I rushed to the sill.

  “You can’t come up yet.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I, umm, I need to—” The embarrassing answer was I didn’t want him to see me like this. But I couldn’t say that, so I said, “I need to turn off my laser fish.”

  Finn chuckled. In the amount of time it took for him to turn his attention back to the task at hand, I made a mad dash to my closet for a sweater to cover my flimsy camisole, grabbed Mimi’s brush off her vacant vanity, and popped a tooth-cleaning tablet in my mouth. With a whir and a thump, Finn hopped into the room like he’d been magno-grappling for years.

  I stumbled backward in surprise. The haphazard, half-packed suitcase in the center of the room stubbed my toe, and I let out a yelp.

  Finn reached out to steady me and looked over at Mimi’s empty bed. “What’s with the suitcase? Where’s your roomie?”