The Grove

by J. R. King

  “Maybe we could walk through the library?” Aria said.

  Christian made a face. “It’s kind of creepy in here at night.”

  They continued down the steps, sneaking through the hallway and past classrooms on the first floor. They watched their reflections in the glass of the doors as they passed.

  “What do you think of the standard students?” Christian said. He gazed over his shoulder, examining the perplexed look on her face.

  “What do you mean, exactly?”

  “I mean, how do you feel about having to hide in our own school? Being forced into separate classrooms and living quarters.”

  Ariahna was watching him carefully as he spoke. “I don’t know,” she said. “It seems to work out alright. As long as we still get to learn, I don’t see an issue with it.”

  “So you don’t mind not being able to practice out in the open, when and wherever you please?” Christian watched his feet as they moved down the hall. “I’ve heard about schools dedicated to people like us. I wonder what that would be like.”

  “Dangerous. It’s harder to stay inconspicuous, from what I understand. If we have to hide, I’ve always agreed with the Collective. It’s better to hide in plain sight. Besides,” Aria said, “you forget it’s the tuition from those standard students that pays for many of our programs and scholarships. Without them we’d be vulnerable, in addition to having less funding. Whether you want to believe it or not, we rely on the standard program. Vardel might not be open without it.”

  “I suppose there are things we’ll always have to hide…”

  “That doesn’t mean we have to be afraid,” she said.

  They made it to the ground floor without incident, taking a set of stairs on the side of the building. With outdoor lighting creeping softly in through the windows, Christian and Aria were able to find their way to the vacant dining hall. The doors swung inward as they stepped inside, eyes scanning over chairs and tables left among the sparkling tile.

  “Do you normally wander the school at night?” Aria asked.

  “No,” he said. “Typically I like to go somewhere quieter. Shawn isn’t the only one making rounds, you know. And it’s not just about the thrill. Your best bet is to stay off the main floors, or out of the building entirely.” He opened a door at the back of the dining hall, moving out onto the courtyard. “I know a few good spots. No one really checks the grounds, for starters. The roof is a great place to hide, and the basement is always abandoned.”

  “Why do I feel like just knowing you might get me in trouble?” she said.

  “Maybe it will. But at least you’ll be having fun.”

  The soccer field sat at the back of the school, surrounded by a large, dimly lit track. They talked quietly as they drifted towards it. “We could hang out under the bleachers?” he said.

  Aria noticed his attire then. Christian was sporting a thin tank top and jeans. “It’s pretty brisk out. Aren’t you cold?”

  “Not really…” He frowned up at the tall windows, drawing Ariahna into the shadow of the bleachers as eyes peered down at them from above. “We need to be more diligent, though. That was close.”

  “How do you know they didn’t see us?” she asked.

  “I don’t. Not for sure, anyways.” Christian let a slow smile creep onto his face. “All the more reason for us to hurry.”

  “And where do you suppose we hurry to?”

  Christian held her gaze for a second before grabbing her hand and making a run for it. They sprinted across the concrete, heading for the Athletics building. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, noting the surprise on her face.

  “Where did you get those?” She watched him survey the area, barely sparing her a glance. The door opened into an empty hall, swathed in both shadow and strips of light. Christian slipped quickly through the opening, leaving her to hesitate just outside the entrance. “…Christian.”

  “You’re going to get us caught.”

  Aria took a tentative step inside, letting the door shut at her back. She startled when he stopped her just shy of the switch.

  “Leave them off,” he said. “We don’t want to alert anyone.”

  They traipsed down the corridor, the warmth of the building working to fight off the chill from outside. Aria eyed the trophy cases as they passed, filled with sparse silver and more abundant gold. Frames containing the multiple sports teams Vardel had seen over the years hung undisturbed from the walls. “You aren’t on any teams, are you?” she said.

  Christian shook his head at her.

  “Then, where did you get the keys?”

  “I’d be more interested in hearing how you think I got them.”

  “This isn’t a game,” Aria said.

  “Why are you playing along then?” He smiled pleasantly. Christian stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. Through the narrow window, he could see the water casting reflections of light around the room. “How about a swim?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not eager to get myself expelled.”

  “Live a little,” he said. Christian pushed in the metal bar, stepping through backwards. “How many chances are we going to get to go skinny dipping at night?”

  Aria followed his devious smile into the glowing room. The smell of chlorine stung her nose as she held close to the exit. “Christian, no,” she whispered. He was already standing along the edge of the pool. “I’m not going along with this.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  She watched as he tore his shirt off, stripping down to his boxers. Christian gave her a cocky little smirk before leaping sideways into the water. It splashed at her ankles as she ventured near, watching him from where she stood on the concrete. He resurfaced as her words hit the air, hair perfectly disheveled and smile in place. “You’re unbelievable,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  Aria frowned seriously. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  Christian pushed his hair out of his eyes, grinning as she approached. “You should dip your toes in the water at least. It’s heated. And it’s also not too late to change your mind.”

  Her eyes flicked down at the water before finding his face again. Those baby browns were just daring her to jump in. Ariahna perched near the edge of the pool instead, resting her arms around bent knees.

  “Are you always this shy?” he asked.

  “I’m not shy. You just seem to be excessively outgoing.”

  Christian drifted up beside her, crossing his arms over the ledge. “Is there really any other way to be?”

  “Not everyone has the luxury,” she said.

  He frowned, staring defiantly at the beautiful girl in front of him. “How old are you even, sixteen?”

  “Seventeen,” she said.

  “And you’re living like you’re thirty. Look around you. Do you really want to waste the best years of your life playing it safe?”

  “Just because I know my limits doesn’t mean I’m boring.”

  “Then get in the pool.”

  Ariahna locked eyes with him. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t trust you,” she said.

  Christian pressed his lips together. “Maybe it’s not me that you don’t trust…”

  The roar of the splitting water aided Ariahna in thought as she watched him do laps across the pool. Life had been far from an adventure lately, resembling more a long and tedious road. Christian couldn’t fathom the obligations she had, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a point. If she put those obligations aside, maybe she could live more daringly for a time. The illusion of freedom, at least, could be hers. Ariahna dipped her fingers through the surface of the water, glancing up when a quick splash broke her concentration. She locked eyes with Christian before following his line of sight. There, lurking against the opposite wall stood a tall boy with long, flowing hair. His elbows were pressed into the jagged stone, head tilted back in interest. Aria stood slowly. “…Hello
…”

  Christian was busy lifting himself out of the pool, stopping only to stare at Kaleb past the droplets of water dripping from his hair. “What are you looking at?” he said.

  Aria had to restrain herself from scolding him by name. “There’s no need to be rude.”

  Black leather creased across the boy’s chest as he moved. He was as lonely as an island, sitting unaccompanied in the all-consuming sea. He hadn’t addressed them yet, hadn’t responded to their unwavering stares. What he had done was approached the edge of the pool parallel to them, where he presently stood, staring apathetically.

  “This was a private party,” Christian said.

  Kaleb smiled. “It’s a little late to be making such a raucous.”

  “We were just leaving,” he said.

  Aria watched him bend to retrieve his clothes. A wave of air pulsed outward from his skin, drying him instantly as he stood. She sucked in a breath at the show of magic, careful eyes finding their visitor. “Christian.” When he looked up, she set him with a stony stare.

  “What?” He glanced behind them at Kaleb. “He’s in one of my classes, and I’ve seen him do a lot worse than that.” Christian had just pulled his shirt on when their visitor decided to make a casual beeline for the exit. He was out the door before either of them had moved.

  “Do you think he’ll say anything?” Aria asked.

  Christian’s eyes held on the doorway. “I doubt it.”

  He slipped his shoes back on before running his fingers through his hair. Apparently, Ariahna found the way he was using the pool like a mirror amusing. “What?” he said. “Never seen a guy take care of his appearance before?”

  “No, I have. It’s almost a bit uncanny.”

  “I think it’s a rather endearing trait. One I got from Dallas, sure, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve not even he can claim.” Aria looked intrigued. “Stick around long enough and you’ll probably find out.” He took one last look before stepping away from the water. “So tell me, did you find any of that perspective you were looking for?”

  “I think so,” she said.

  “Then I think it’s time I escort you back to your room.”

  Chapter Ten

  Learning to Soar

  Kaleb sat high above the forest floor, legs dangling from the edge of a thick tree branch. He had been resting there for a time, listening to the sounds of the distant school merge with the crashing noise of the wilderness; watching the night bleed into brilliant day. His thoughts had grown darker during those hours, his mind occupied by his father’s purpose for him.

  The school had become drab after a day. The woods only carried his interest so far, and all the nooks hidden inside the building were far too easy to find. Students inhabited every available inch. And he felt, for all the world, infested, if not merely overtaken by them.

  He tore a handful of leaves from their branches, wondering just how long this awful plan would take. If he didn’t die because of it, he just might live to see the end of an era, and the beginning of something frighteningly new. But revolution never came without a cost. As he sat there dreading such things, a new noise echoed between the trees (the encroaching sound of footsteps). Kaleb pulled his legs up near his chest, blending in with the giant trunk. Below the noise grew closer, leaving his eyes to fixate on the ground.

  When the crunching of twigs left his ears, something more interesting began to take its place. Kaleb slipped down from his perch, following the source of the sound. Fresh dew glistened in the morning light, dripping from leaves disturbed by his path. The water clung to the creases in his jacket, leaving polished trails on the leather. He narrowed his eyes as the melody grew close; the blended notes flitting through the air, along with that unmistakable scent.

  Thick foliage nearly obscured him from view, but there, in the recess of a small hill, sat Rome. The guitar in his lap reflected light against the ground, his fingers moving over the strings without pause. He started singing, and Kaleb folded his arms, watching him quietly from beside a mossy tree. He wasn’t familiar with the song. Still, it managed in filling him with an unwanted emotion: sorrow.

  “Is singing to yourself considered normal?” he called.

  Rome pressed his fingers to the neck of the guitar, stopping on a dime. He watched as Kaleb sauntered up, blocking out rays of sunlight as he stood like a tower beside him.

  “I think they call this stalking.”

  “Nice try,” Kaleb said, “but I was here first.”

  Rome rested an arm over the curve of the guitar. “It’s day break. Are you telling me you’ve been out here all night?”

  “I’ve been around,” he said.

  Rome looked back at him, seeing signs of mistrust swimming across his features. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’m not so sure it was a coincidence, how we met.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Everything,” he said. “I don’t trust them.”

  Kaleb watched the proverbial cogs turning in Rome’s mind, the flicker of an expression too quick to decipher. “…Meaning?”

  “I think I want to help you.” Rome grew serious as Kaleb stifled a chuckle.

  “That’s a wretched idea if ever I’ve heard one. It would be reckless and idiotic.” Kaleb could feel his face splitting into an unexpected grin. “My father would surely hate it…”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Rome said.

  “Right now, it might be the only thing I have.” His eyes moved over Rome indifferently. “Forgive me if I don’t elaborate.”

  “I get it. You have your secrets, and you’re keen on keeping them.” Rome leaned into the guitar, tilting it Kaleb’s way. “I don’t suppose you’ll keep this a secret, too?” he said.

  Kaleb shrugged. “Why should I? If I kept secrets for everyone I came across, I wouldn’t have much to talk about.” Rome tapped his fingers against the body of the instrument, drawing Kaleb’s eye. “Who’s that girl I’ve seen you running around with?”

  Rome found himself scowling at the dirt.

  “I ran into her last night,” Kaleb said, “after hours.” Rome was giving him the exact reaction he’d been fishing for, even as subtle as it was. “She wasn’t alone, either.”

  “I have nothing to do with that,” Rome said.

  “Apparently.”

  He couldn’t help but look at Kaleb then. He wasn’t so difficult to read; not really. “The last thing I need is an enemy. What I could use more is a friend. Something tells me you could say the same.”

  “I said I’d accept your help. I never said I wouldn’t tease you mercilessly and trip you up every chance that I got.”

  Rome scoffed. “Accepting my help means just that.”

  Kaleb shook his head at him. “You have so much to learn.”

  Rome turned his attention back to the guitar. He could feel Kaleb’s eyes on him as he plucked another melody from the strings. His fingers moved without thought, sometimes hammering down on the notes, other times muting them. At some point he slowed to a stop, letting the sound dissipate into the trees. “Can I ask you a question?” Rome said.

  An instant frown formed on Kaleb’s face. “You’re abusing your friend benefits early.”

  “And often, I’m sure.” Rome brushed his thumb over his callused fingers before finding the courage to continue. “You asked me if I knew who you were. I guess I’ve been wondering ever since.”

  Kaleb gestured at Rome’s hands. “Give me your guitar.”

  “It’s not mine.”

  “You can’t trust me with your guitar, but you expect me to trust you with my identity?” Kaleb set him with a level stare. “I gave you my full name. That’s more than I offer to most.”

  Rome held out the instrument for him to take, finding effort in the act. “Tell me something that’s not classified information, then.”

  Kaleb paused before accepting the polished instrument. “I don’t play the guitar,” he said cheaply. He sat down in the grass
, resting the acoustic on one knee. His fingers brushed clumsily over the strings, hand pressed just loosely enough over the neck to make it screech. They both squinted against the sound.

  “I could teach you,” Rome said. He moved to readjust Kaleb’s fingers before he could protest, positioning them in the shape of an actual chord. “Try strumming it now.”

  Kaleb stared at the stump of a tree. “I don’t really feel like playing now,” he said. “You’ve interfered with my creative genius.”

  Rome scoffed again. “I think I lied. Being friends with you might be more exhausting.” He nudged a fallen leaf with his boot. “I also think I know what kind of friendship you plan on making this.” Kaleb gave him a quick glance. “One of necessity,” Rome said. “And that’s fine, for now. I can tell that’s just how you work. What I don’t know is what I can offer you. Not when I’m missing so many pieces of the puzzle.”

  Kaleb strummed the chord then – a slow, hesitant gesture. Rome admired the gentle sound all the same.

  “How about something better to eat than that swill they’re sending me in bags?” Kaleb said.

  “There are a few good diners in town…” The quirk of a single eyebrow told Rome he wasn’t getting off that easily. “What is it exactly, animal blood?” He watched Kaleb grimace.

  “If I had to guess, sewer rat. I doubt anything else could taste so foul. And with several hundred perfectly healthy donors floating around… it’s insulting, is what it is.”

  Rome laughed. But as his smile dissipated, so did his enthusiasm for the topic. All he could think about was their first encounter. It hadn’t hurt as much as he thought it might, but— “It was invasive,” he said. “And just too personal.”

  Kaleb’s lips spread in a thin smile. “Would you rather it was quick and impersonal? It seems as though it would cheapen the experience to me. There are those who give willingly, you know, simply because they enjoy it. The intimacy, I’m told, is what makes it so appealing.”

  Rome shifted on the log, trying not to show his discomfort. “It’s one thing to look at me like food, but what you’re doing is something else entirely.” He watched Kaleb’s smile stretch to show teeth. “I don’t think I’m as ready for that as you are.”