by Belle Malory
Dr. Sigly and Professor Mason left the apartment to give Kennedy some privacy before the welcome dinner. So much time and energy had been spent on her, the supposed twelfth keeper. How would they react when they found out she wasn’t really the one; how would the world react?
Headlines like “The Twelfth is a Fraud!” would be all over the news. Hopefully they wouldn’t use that cringe-worthy yearbook picture again.
Matilda approached, interrupting her thoughts. “Would you like me to run a bath and set out clothes for tonight’s event?”
“Um…sure.” The idea of talking to a machine was unnerving. Matilda didn’t stick around for long though. She rolled away, leaving Kennedy alone with her thoughts. Thank God for small favors.
Kennedy turned back to the view of Earth. As incredible as it was, she no longer had the comfort of Hunter a few feet away, and that wasn’t worth any view. Pressing her palm against the glass, Kennedy closed her eyes and pretended he was still there.
Being friends with Hunter was so incredibly easy, like breathing. She wondered what it would be like between them now, after that front porch whammy of a kiss he’d shocked her with. She wondered what it meant. They had never been anything more than just friends. Not that she was against something more; it had just never happened. She figured Hunter didn’t see her that way. That kiss may have changed things though. It definitely blurred some lines, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet.
She sighed. All she knew was she already missed him.
Her chest tightened, a small hiccup rising into her throat. Now that she was alone, she felt okay with letting the tears she’d held back for so long fall down her cheeks.
Seventeen
Phoenix knew the exact moment Kennedy Mitchell entered the room. Warmth spread over him, an inexplicable energy. The atmosphere changed, became lighter, as a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.
His first urge was to jump up and go to her. Her presence pulled at him like gravity, pulling his whole body to come closer.
And God, he wanted to be closer. He hated himself for it, but he still wanted to be closer.
If he would just let it happen, he could fall in deep, discover why they were so connected. He could figure out why the feelings he had with her were so different from the others.
Phoenix tugged the stiff collar of his shirt, wishing he could get out of there. He eyed each of the room’s exits, wondering if anyone would notice him slipping out.
The sound of her voice, soft and feminine, drew him in again as she introduced herself to the others, becoming the only voice he heard.
Phoenix stretched his neck. He strained to push Kennedy’s voice out of his buzzing head. He would never give in to her pull, would never become the person Calaya saw in her visions.
For years he’d ignored the stargazer, discounting her predictions completely. He’d gotten used to doing what was expected, to living his life almost mechanically. The idea of falling in love had always been a joke to him.
Love was for the weak. It was for people who were easily manipulated. Love wasn’t for someone like him. Not when he knew so much about the outer worlds. Earth needed protectors, not romantic fools.
No matter what Calaya envisioned for him, he still had a choice.
Fate wasn’t some cruel, choiceless entity. No, he couldn’t believe that. His fate was determined by his decisions.
Fang let out a breathy sigh. “Do you feel it?” she said, closing her eyes. “We’re united. Finally a complete unit.”
Phoenix nodded.
This time they were all a part of that feeling of completion. Now that Kennedy was here, they were unified, tethered together by invisible strings, and stronger because of it. The feeling was sort of beautiful, in a way that no one else could understand.
Still, Phoenix didn’t want to say too much, didn’t want to give too much away. Not in front of Fang. A few years ago she overheard Calaya talking to Phoenix about the twelfth keeper. Aside from him, Fang was the only other person who knew about the stargazer’s visions, and he wished to God she didn’t.
Fang opened her eyes, narrowing them on his face. She remembered, all right.
“Do you…feel…?”
“No.” Phoenix coughed, hoping the conversation would end there.
“So when you met her before, you didn’t, you know,” Fang couldn’t quite get the words out. It seemed just as hard for her to accept as it was for him.
“Calaya was wrong, Fang. It’s laughable how wrong she was.”
Fang focused her attention on Kennedy, assessing her. “She’s colorful. Her eyes, her hair, they’re striking and colorful. But she doesn’t look like keeper material.”
“If I remember correctly, neither did you.”
Fang’s mouth fell into a frown. They both knew it was true. Fang was discovered a few years after China’s Great Disaster, back when she was a child. She was half-starved, having lost her family to the tragedy, nothing but skin and bones when they found her. Looking at her then made it hard to believe she was Earth’s first keeper.
“You know what I meant, Nix,” Fang grumbled. “And I was an exception.”
It was just like her to say something like that; but for all her arrogance, she was also right. Out of everyone, Fang had gone through the biggest transformation. Professor Mason took the Chinese girl under his wing, swearing to turn her into a great warrior. He introduced her to the martial arts early on, until she far surpassed his skill as a teacher and required new ones. Now, at nineteen, Fang lived up to his words. So much so that Phoenix preferred training with Fang over the others. She was his greatest challenge, and the only one who wasn’t afraid to go up against him.
“When Calaya said those things about the twelfth, she painted a different picture.” Fang’s chin raised, a subtle curl of her lip on one side. “She made her sound powerful. That girl doesn’t look powerful.”
“That’s because Calaya is full of crap.”
Fang shrugged. “She’s been right about other things.”
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Stargazers are bound to be right some of the time.”
“Okay then. So truthfully, Nix. No feelings whatsoever?”
“None, Fang.”
Hearing him say it helped her relax. She rolled her shoulders back, stretching, and he knew she’d dropped it.
Phoenix felt bad about lying to his friend, but he hoped saying it out loud might force it to be true. It didn’t.
Feeling guilty, he came close to telling Fang the truth, but Commissioner Plaffle was announced, drawing everyone’s attention.
The room quieted automatically at his entrance. Since the commissioner was Commander in Chief on Olympus, it was sort of expected to shut up in his presence.
Probably a good thing anyway. Fang had always been the jealous type of friend and wouldn’t have been any help. Telling her about that first meeting with Kennedy would’ve been a bad idea. Or that was what he told himself to feel better about it.
And so what if he felt connected to Kennedy Mitchell? Choices were what made differences. He chose not to act on how he felt. That was all that mattered.
~ ~
The welcoming Kennedy experienced wasn’t exactly what she’d call a welcoming.
No one seemed excited. No one.
Compared to the rest of the world’s enthusiasm, Kennedy felt like she’d been introduced to the most apathetic bunch of people ever. Nobody swooned over her. No one asked her hundreds of questions.
Not that she wanted them to or anything. Matter of fact, she preferred they didn’t. Still, it seemed strange that they were so uninterested in the newest member of their keeperhood, or whatever they considered themselves a part of. All in all, it was like none of them cared.
Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. Davaris, an energetic guy from Detroit, high-fived her when she first met him, and hollered, “Team USA!” (She found out later they were the only two keepers from America.)
But other than t
hat, nothing.
Looking around at all their bored faces, Kennedy might’ve thought she’d shown up for summer school rather than a welcome dinner. It didn’t feel like she was uniting with eleven other people to protect the world.
Kennedy, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more interested in all of them. It didn’t matter that she’d seen them on TV and knew all of their names and faces. Meeting them in person was altogether different.
Everyone was young, ranging from fifteen to nineteen, and yet most of them were huge. Like, ginormous huge. One or two were around Kennedy’s height, but everyone else towered over her. And they were muscled—like, wow kind of muscles. Even the girls were solidly toned.
Kennedy couldn’t have felt more inadequate. The words petite and baby fat came back to haunt her all over again, making her skin crawl with the need to get out of it and become someone else, someone who fit in with this group of prize fighters.
Further proof you’re not one of them, her mind whispered. Soon enough they’ll figure it out too.
Until then she was stuck.
Pretending.
Kennedy made her way around the room, introducing herself. Most of the keepers were polite, some even friendly. And then there were a few who weren’t so friendly.
“Hello, I’m Kennedy,” she said to Fang Chen.
Fang stared at Kennedy like she was the dumbest person in the world. “Obviously,” she muttered before walking away.
Left standing there alone, Kennedy’s smile faded from her lips, unsure of what just happened.
“Great black hole, but she can be rude,” a heavy British accent said from behind.
Kennedy winced. Awesome, someone witnessed that lovely exchange.
Ignoring the urge to run and hide, Kennedy forced herself to turn around. She immediately recognized the girl standing there.
Long, silky brown hair, squinty green eyes, and scrunched up cheeks that gave the impression she was sucking on a sour lemon. She was Alexia Brümfeld, keeper number two.
Alexia was the last one found before Kennedy. According to a biography she’d seen, DOE had difficulty tracking Alexia down since she never attended public school and didn’t have any medical records. Her parents were hippyish sheepherders living on a farm in Wales. They’d preferred homeopathic remedies over medicine, which played a big part in why she’d been so hard to trace. In fact, Alexia may have never been discovered if she hadn’t broken her leg and been rushed to the hospital a few years ago. Not long after, DOE got a hold of her records and proclaimed she was the Earth’s second keeper.
“Don’t pay her any attention. If we were all dwarves, Fang would be a Grumpy bitch, know what I mean?”
Kennedy smirked. She liked this girl already. “Can’t say I disagree with her parent’s choice of name.”
“Means flower or something equally feminine in Chinese.” She snorted, as if the idea was ludicrous. “But I agree. The English version suits her better.”
Alexia smiled, her cheeks puffing up and eyes creasing into green speckles. She held her hand out to Kennedy, and talked about a mile a minute. “I’m Lexie Brümfeld. It’s German. Most people say brum, like rum, which I will never fully understand. It’s actually pronounced broom-feld, like the one you sweep with. Figured I’d let you know right off the bat because that crap seriously gets on my nerves. It’s simple phonetics, you know?”
Kennedy nodded, trying to keep up with Lexie’s fast-paced speech. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. My specialty is geographical nature. Dirt and plants and those sorts of earthy things, so I won’t be spending much time with you in training, but it’s nice to have a new face on board.”
Specialty? What was this girl talking about? No one ever told her about specializations.
Lexie formed a small moue with her lips, looking as if she’d just said something she wasn’t supposed to. “They did tell you about the elements, right?”
Kennedy shook her head. “What do you mean?” she asked. “How do we specialize in elements?”
“Great black hole, I’ve done it again. Ignore me, sweetie. Clearly, I’ve the tendency to stick my foot in my mouth. Fair warning, this probably won’t be the last time it happens.”
“What about the elements?” Kennedy asked again. “They haven’t told me anything yet. Not about training, anyway.”
“Don’t know that I’m the right person for that conversation. Stuff’s kinda heavy, know what I mean? Anyway, you’ll find out soon enough. We train everyday, save for Sundays. They’ll want to start you immediately too. They always go harder on the newcomers. And you’re the last of us, so they’ll probably go doubly hard on you.”
Kennedy grimaced. Go harder on the newcomers? Wonderful. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with.
Lexie stifled a chuckle. “It’s only hard at first, sweetie,” she said, patting Kennedy’s arm. “After a while, it becomes home. We’re kinda like a family here, a really bizarre family, but a family nonetheless.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Kennedy spent the rest of the night thinking about Lexie’s slip-up. Elements…what could that possibly mean? There were no elements up in space. She said her specialty was geographical nature. But how was that possible? Nature didn’t exist up here.
Argh, it was going to drive her batty until she found out.
As if the night couldn’t get any more confusing, Kennedy was seated only a few seats down from Phoenix during the dinner. When she wasn’t thinking about what Lexie said, she was casually stealing glances his way.
Maybe it was her imagination playing tricks on her, but she felt the heat of his gaze burning in to her, too. Fanning herself with her napkin actually became tempting; her skin was so flushed.
She wanted to catch him staring, needed proof of it, but never could. Each time she peered over at him, his eyes were on anything but her. When she did get a good look at him though, she swore he was watching her through his peripheral vision. She could almost his see his mind working to analyze her every move.
Wow, that sounded crazy.
Phoenix had never said more than two words to her, never even acted the least bit interested. It didn’t make any sense, whatever the strange feeling was.
Watching him wasn’t a good idea, anyway. It brought back the image of his face above hers, kissing the hollow of her throat, her neck, brushing his lips against hers…she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the image. She couldn’t.
Out of all the people there, he was the only one who hadn’t spoken to her yet. She thought he might sometime that night; they’d never really had a formal introduction, but Phoenix disappeared almost as soon as dinner was over. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
Kennedy also left early, hoping no one would notice. Sure, it was a welcome dinner meant for her, but everyone was so caught up with each other that she doubted anyone would notice.
She headed back through the passageways, finding it easier to maneuver her way through them this time around. Once back in her apartment, she changed into her favorite pj’s, ones with little purple unicorns covering them. Ashley saw them at the mall while she was working her seasonal job, and they made her think of Kennedy. Wearing them now made Kennedy think of home. And miss home.
Maybe the problem was that nothing here was familiar. Kennedy reached for her suitcase, ready to fix that, and began unpacking. She smiled when she came across the red high heels she stole from Reagan. She ran her fingers down the soles, wondering how angry Reagan would be when she noticed their absence.
Her father once told her theft was a crime against oneself. He’d been scolding her for stealing a doll from Reagan at the time, but his words had stayed with her, echoing in her ears even now. The only thing worth stealing are kisses, he said while tucking her into bed. He covered her with the blanket, kissed her forehead, and tickled her until she gave up the doll.
Kennedy set the heels inside her closet and clo
sed the door. Feeling guilty wasn’t something she intended to do. She’d give the shoes back eventually, when she went home. Until then, it was like a small part of Reagan was there with her.
“Lights off,” she commanded, then crawled underneath the covers. She stared out the window into space, connecting the stars together like a giant puzzle.
Everything was too quiet. Reagan should be gently stirring or snoring. The vibrations of the rickety ceiling fan should be lulling her to sleep.
She heard nothing.
So when soft whirring whooshed by the bed, her blood froze. She sat up, stiffening, and trying to see through the darkness.
“It’s only me,” Matilda said in her weird human-sounding voice. “I was wondering if there is anything else you might need for the night?”
Kennedy let out a deep breath. Mild heart attack averted. “Um…no. I’m good, thanks.”
“Okay, then. The department requires you get a minimum of eight hours sleep. Since there’s nothing else, I’ll turn on your sleep agent.”
“Sleep agent? What’s that?”
The android pressed a button on the foot of her bed, a mist clouded the air, and that was the last thing she remembered. Kennedy wasn’t awake for Matilda’s answer.
Eighteen
“You’re capable of making breakfast?” A spinach omelet and a bowl of sliced strawberries sat on the countertop next to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Matilda set down another glass filled with something thick and green beside the orange juice. Kennedy sniffed it and crinkled her nose.
“Breakfast, among other things,” the android responded.
Kennedy took a seat at the counter. Matilda went about her business collecting dirty dishes and cleaning the countertops. “Do you make waffles?” Kennedy asked after tasting the omelet. The eggs were filled with something suspiciously grainy. Better off sticking to the fruit.
“Dr. Sigly and the other members of your training team has set aside a very specific diet guideline for you. Waffles, I believe, were not on the list.”