by Cody Wagner
Tracey actually flinched—Cassie had always been so passive around her—and said, “What?”
Cassie glared at her. “You’re OK with everyone being in jeopardy if it means you get to be happy in your own little world?”
I looked down at my plate. Cassie had been on edge for days, and Tracey’s comment apparently set her off.
Before Tracey could respond, Debate Cassie come out in full force. “If I were in your situation, I’d welcome the bullying if it meant everyone else remained safe. What’s one life in return for hundreds?”
Tracey looked at Roze and me for help, but we didn’t do a thing. While the words were harsh, Cassie was right. I’d never welcome or condone what Tracey was going through, but damn was she selfish.
When we didn’t speak up, Tracey glared at Cassie. I think she was trying to be intimidating, but Cassie wasn’t having it. She raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is that all you’ve got?
After a few seconds, Tracy stood, grabbed her tray, and stomped off. Before she was out of earshot, we heard her say, “There’s no such thing as a selfless act.”
We sat in silence a few seconds before Roze said, “We’ve all seen that episode of Friends.”
“Huh?” I said.
“You need to watch better TV,” Roze said. I’d never considered Friends to be a classic, and when I didn’t respond, Roze threw up her hands. “There’s an episode that basically says every nice act has a selfish undertone.”
Cassie disagreed, saying, “Of course there are purely selfless acts.”
“Yeah?” Roze said.
Cassie was still in debate mode, but her tone became less harsh. “Sometimes, decisions have to be made that benefit the greater good. Even at your own expense.”
Roze leaned in and said, “What about at the expense of your friends or family?”
Cassie stared at the wall. “If the situation warranted it.”
As one of her friends, I might have taken offense, but I knew she wasn’t trying to be insulting.
“Elaborate,” Roze said.
Cassie straightened, but before she could answer, TVs mounted on each corner of the cafeteria came on.
We jolted in our seats as Coach Adkins stood and motioned for everyone’s attention. He didn’t have to, though, as the entire room went dead quiet.
A female reporter appeared on the screen.
I grabbed the table as if I were trying to hold on to the school for dear life. This was it. We were screwed.
The reporter began speaking.
“Zimmerman’s Zealots are arriving at their first healing camp.” The camera zoomed back, and I noticed she was standing on a road line with trees. “Apparently, they will begin monitoring sessions in the morning.”
Everyone’s eyes shot to the doors, expecting the Zealots to burst in.
Then the reporter said, “Camp NO Where in Kennesaw, Georgia, says they’re not worried and have granted full access.”
I jerked closer to the screen thinking, What?! Zimmerman’s Zealots weren’t raiding Sanctuary first?!
I loosened my grip on the table as the camera panned to a group of Zimmerman’s Zealots standing on the campus in Georgia. Some of the Zealots were glowing purple. That meant the Siren had to be involved, which didn’t make sense. Why wasn’t she sending them to Sanctuary?
After watching for a minute, I noticed the Zealots—even the ones under control—were well-spoken, just like Senator Joseph. They stood there, repeating the Senator’s words about how it would be an “open and honest investigation.” Watching those idiots talk, I wondered if there might have been other schools like Sanctuary: fake healing places targeted by the Siren. That was something I’d never considered, and I watched the newscast, desperate for clues.
As interviews with the camp progressed, though, I became convinced Camp NO Where was a legitimate conversion therapy location. While some clients there seemed downright giddy to be inspected, others were insulted. I imagined the scene at Sanctuary being very different. While cooperative, we would have been more subdued and definitely not insulted. Also, the instructors there were genuinely thrilled to show they were the real deal.
By the time the newscast ended, I wanted to dance on the table and crawl under it at the same time. On one hand, Sanctuary was safe! I didn’t have to out myself as the Seeker! I wasn’t going back to Pamata! Yay! On the other hand, we were all back to playing the waiting game. It also made the Siren so much more confusing. What was she up to?
“I was sure it’d be us,” Roze said.
Cassie looked at me. “You get to stay here.”
“I guess,” I said. “But what does this mean?”
Before Cassie or Roze could answer, the entire cafeteria burst into applause. Then, tater tots went flying until Coach Adkins motioned for us to sit.
“This is, indeed, good news,” he said. “It means you’ve done a great job. But you’ve got to keep it up. Until this whole ordeal is over, we’re still on our best behavior.”
A few people groaned, but it was fake. We all knew the danger hadn’t passed. Everyone just needed to let out some steam at this moral victory.
When everyone’s attention returned to their food, Cassie leaned in. “Did you notice Coach Adkins’s expression?”
Roze and I shook our heads.
“He still looks worried.”
I studied Coach Adkins for a minute. He was chatting with the other teachers, and one by one, they all shrugged. They had to be talking about the Siren. And they had to be just as confused as I was. It was infuriating. It’s not like I wanted to be visited by the Zealots. But at least it made sense.
I shifted on the bench. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Cassie shrugged. “We wait.”
I didn’t like that answer, but it was all we could do.
And so, we waited.
A few days later, Camp NO Where was cleared. Then, C.E.U.—The Camp for Evil Urges—in Omaha was selected and cleared the following week.
The following week, something happened. But it had nothing to do with the inspections. Instead, we got a lead on how to find the Siren. Finally! And it came from the most unexpected person in the world—Tracey. Not voluntarily, I might add. She was still as nasty as ever. She just had a big mouth that worked in our favor for once.
During the Zimmerman’s Zealot craziness, Tracey still hung out with us. But ever since her spat with Cassie, Cassie refused to talk to her. That created all sorts of awkwardness, especially for Roze, who was caught in the middle. I was in the mix, too, but given Cassie and Roze’s closeness, Roze suffered the brunt of the drama.
Once, on my way back to the dorms from the library, I saw Tracey and Roze together. Tracey was busy chatting away, while Roze looked as if she were playing a movie in her head to escape. That’s when I caught sight of Cassie, lagging about fifteen steps behind, watching them with a sad expression.
While I felt bad for Cassie, I sympathized more for Roze. Anyone who had to spend that much time with Tracey deserved a trophy. I mean, at least Cassie and I could escape to the younger dorm at night. I could only imagine the conversations they had (“Oh my god, the Cleansing Corn was so poorly dressed tonight. Those husks clearly weren’t Vera Wang.”).
Finally, on Thursday, Roze had had enough of it and snapped.
“This has got to stop,” she said to all of us at lunch.
Tracey went to speak, when Roze shushed her. Then, Roze turned to Cassie and said, “I think you were a little abrasive the other day.”
Tracey pointed at Cassie. “Ha!”
That didn’t help at all. Roze glared at her and said, “You are such a bitch.”
I winced, but Tracey shrugged it off, saying, “And proud of it.”
Cassie shook her head, disgusted. “Are you serious?”
Roze jumped in before they could start another fight. “You may not realize this, but we’re your only friends.”
Tracey rolled her eyes like it wasn’t true. That’s
when I got frustrated and jumped in. “Oh my god. Don’t deny it. Face it: you’re not popular anymore.”
Tracey crossed her arms. Putting on her proudest face, she said, “So you don’t want to hang out with me? It’s whatever.”
She snatched her tray and went to stand up, but Roze pulled her down. “We do what to hang out with you. But we can’t put up with this, anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Tracey said.
“You’ve got to stop being so awful.”
Tracey mock-saluted her. “Is that an order? There’s nothing wrong with being bitchy.”
“If there’s nothing wrong with it, why do you have no friends?”
“Because of the lie,” Tracey said.
Without missing a beat, Cassie said, “If Roze or Blaize went through what you did, I’d still be their friend.”
“Ditto,” Roze said.
I chimed in with my own, “Ditto.”
“Well, how wonderful for you,” Tracey said.
Roze ignored the sarcasm. “We’d still be friends because our friendship is real, unlike you and Darrin, who gets thrills from bloodying you up and making Patented Breathing Rings.”
Tracey crossed her arms again. Her defensive mask was still on, but I could tell she was starting to get embarrassed.
So we kept talking.
To be honest, we let her have it. We told her she was a nobody. And that her snide comments just made her look bitter now. Roze finished it off by saying, “Keep rolling your eyes at me. That’s fine. If you’re not willing to at least try, we’re done. Come on, guys.” At that, the three of us stood and grabbed our trays.
“Good luck,” I said as we started to walk away.
Before we made it two steps, Tracy whispered, “What do you want me to do?”
Roze smiled and sat back down. “Decent human lessons.”
“Huh?” Tracey said.
“We’re going to give you lessons on how to be nice.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Roze smiled. “Not at all.”
Tracey rolled her eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. What am I? Five years old?”
Honestly, I kind of agreed with Tracey. But it was a chance for all of us to hang out together. And the idea was weird enough to be entertaining.
I jumped in headfirst. “We had to give Roze lessons last year, and look at her now.”
Before Roze could respond, Tracey said, “I believe it. Are you sure it worked?”
Like all the other times, Tracey’s statement would have been funny if anyone else had said it. But her tone was so nasty, the insult sounded awful.
Again, no one laughed, so Tracey threw up her hands. “If any of you said that, the rest of you would have died laughing.”
“It’s because you have resting bitch voice,” Roze said.
Cassie and I both laughed.
Tracey gestured at us. “See? You’re hypocrites.”
“No, we’re also nice to each other.” I said.
“We look out for each other,” Cassie said, glancing at me.
“Our friendships are genuine, so we can give each other a hard time.” Roze shrugged. “There’s nothing genuine about you.”
Cassie smiled. “But that can change.”
I looked at Tracey. “Care to join us?”
Tracey squinted at us. “You’re serious? This is THE stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Roze stood up again. This time, Tracey turned away like she didn’t care that we were going to leave.
That’s when Cassie said, “Now that Sanctuary is safe from Senator Joseph, things should start returning to normal for you. Good luck.”
That did it. I could see the fear in Tracey’s eyes. She hadn’t been a target lately because everyone was focused on Zimmerman’s Zealots. That would soon change, and Tracey knew it.
Desperate people succumb to desperate measures, and after a few seconds, Tracey nodded, saying, “God, this so dumb.”
And that’s how Decent Human Lessons started.
I felt kind of silly as the four of us marched out and sat under a tree that evening. A chill was in the air, and I rubbed my hands together. We faced west so we could watch the sun drop behind the pine trees on the edge of campus.
“So how’s this going to work?” Tracey said.
“Simple,” Roze said. “You’re going to pay one of us a compliment.”
Tracey rolled her eyes. “Really?”
“Yep.” Roze lay back with her hands folded behind her head. “We have until curfew.”
Tracey stared at us as if waiting for a punchline.
I decided to set the example. “Roze, I’m jealous that you don’t care what people think of you. It’s really awesome.”
I didn’t think it was that big a deal, but Tracey actually gawked at me. Roze and I bantered so much, I guess Tracey couldn’t fathom our being nice to each other.
Seeing Tracey’s face, Roze sat up and smiled at me. “And you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”
I admit my cheeks burned. If only Roze knew I’d been hiding my Seeker status for months, she wouldn’t have said that.
Tracey sat there, shaking her head. I didn’t think it would be that hard to pay someone a compliment, but she refused to speak. It’s like she thought doing it would reveal a massive weakness or something. I kind of understood, but not to this extent.
Cassie jumped in. “Roze, you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. You have such a positive energy about you.”
Roze blushed. And I mean she seriously blushed.
It was then that I saw how Cassie was staring at Roze. She was proud to the point of being awed. I hid a smile behind my hands. How long had she been looking at Roze that way? It was definitely more than the look one friend gives another. My smile turned into a grin. Roze seemed oblivious, but I wondered how many looks they’d exchanged. Did I miss something? Or was this new?
Suddenly, Tracey started humming the wedding song.
The girl was too perceptive for her own good, and I hissed, “Shut up!”
Cassie looked ready to slap her.
Roze pointed at Tracey. “I want a compliment.”
Tracey smirked. “You’re good at changing the subject. How’s that?”
And that’s how the next hour went: Tracey threw out back-handed compliments while the rest of us griped at her.
After we berated Tracey for believing, “Cassie, you’d make a perfect jockey with that tiny body,” was a great compliment, she clamped up for good and refused to try again.
I decided it was my turn to change the subject. For a second, I couldn’t decide what to talk about. Then, I found myself blurting the most inappropriate question ever:
“What happened last year with you and Jimmy?”
Roze’s jaw dropped.
Cassie gaped at me.
My face started burning; I’d done it again. Sure, we wanted information from Tracey. We’d discussed questioning her about her attacking Jimmy several times. But this was the weirdest timing ever.
As expected, Tracey wrapped her arms around her legs and pulled herself in a ball. “None of your damn business.”
After stammering for a second, I started playing with the grass. That’s when I decided to take a cue from Decent Human Lessons and play nice. “We believe you, by the way. You know, that you’re innocent.”
For a second, I thought I’d said the wrong thing again, but Tracey squinted at me and said, “Why?”
“Jimmy told us,” I said.
Tracey looked at me. Her defensive facade vanished as she said, “Really?”
“Really,” Cassie said, joining in now that Tracey was talking. “He liked you.”
OK, that wasn’t the total truth. And Cassie’s voice went shrill as she said it.
Tracey didn’t notice and said, “Cool.”
We sat in silence for what felt like the appropriate amount of time when Roze jumped in. Her voice was sym
pathetic as she said, “So what happened?”
I expected Tracey to wall herself off again, but she didn’t. Instead, she looked at the sky and muttered, “I don’t know.”
“Did someone blackmail you?” I asked.
Tracey shook her head. “I don’t remember.” Then she looked at her feet, embarrassed. “Sanctuary thought I was on drugs.”
“Really?” Cassie whispered, as if trying not to shatter this rare Tracey moment.
Tracey tore up some grass and threw it. “What else would they think? And it sucked!”
“Why?” Roze said.
“Because I don’t do drugs. Duh.”
Cassie, Roze, and I looked at each other. I knew Tracey wasn’t on drugs; I was just trying to think how to steer the conversation back to Jimmy and the Siren.
Tracey must have taken our silence as skepticism, because she once again took her defensive stance. And that’s when it happened. That’s when Tracey blurted the line that finally led to a shred of progress with the Siren.
“If you don’t believe I’m clean,” she said, “go find me in the Admissions Building.”
“What?” I had no idea what she meant.
Tracey grabbed some more grass. “There’s a records room with a wall of file cabinets. Go find me there if you want.”
That’s when things started clicking. Pushing myself up, I said, “They’re not on computers?”
“No, they pulled a physical file on me when I left last year.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Tracey dropped the grass she was holding. “Why do you care?”
I didn’t answer her as my mind raced. Roze and Cassie both gave me curious looks. I relished their confusion because I rarely came up with huge revelations before them. I admit it was fun gloating as we changed the subject back to Decent Human Lessons.
When we finally sent Tracey off—or more specifically, when she got frustrated at our not accepting her compliments and left—the three of us huddled together.
“Why were you looking at us like that?” Roze asked.
I savored the moment for a second before saying, “If Sanctuary has files on Tracey, they have them on other students, too.”
Cassie gasped. “Jimmy.”
“Yes, Jimmy.”
Right there in the Admissions Building were files on Jimmy. Files that contained information about him and his family.