by Barb Han
Now I understand what people are talking about when they say they go weak in the knees. Mine are rubber, and I doubt they’ll hold my weight much longer. I put my hand on the locker to brace myself.
“Thanks for the manicotti, by the way. It was the best pasta I’ve ever tasted, and I just feel bad about how I reacted to you.” I realize that I’m probably pouring it on a little too thick. My nerves are fried. This is harder than I thought it would be. His response is just to stare at me like he can see right through me.
“I understand if you never want to speak to me again.” I drop my gaze to the tiled floor and work my fingers together in a knot. “I just wanted to apologize for how I acted. Legacies aren’t usually nice to me.”
“Tori.” My heart swells at the sound of him saying my name.
“Yeah,” is all I can manage to say.
“If you keep lumping me into a category, we’ll never get to know each other.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I lift my gaze to meet his. I want him to see how sincere I am when I answer. I barely hold back moisture gathering. “I’ve been a jerk. I’m sorry.”
“Do you like me?” Caius suddenly looks as insecure as I feel. His nervous tick surfaces and he snaps the rubber band on his wrist. The move is so subtle I almost miss it.
“Yeah,” is, once again, the only word I can manage to form.
“Good.” Relief wash over him. He smiles, and the dimple reappears. “Because I think I could really like you.”
My entire body flushes with warmth and heat travels all the way up my neck to my cheeks. He turns to face me, his head still leaning against the locker.
“I have to warn you, though,” I say, and he sharpens. “For the record, my opinion hasn’t changed about Rhys. I don’t like your best friend.”
“Rhys is not my best friend,” he corrects me.
“Fine. Then, I won’t hold his behavior against you anymore.” I’m grateful the conversation between us is much lighter now.
“As long as we’re being honest with each other, I have a confession.”
I’m all ears.
“I don’t like your best friend.” I can tell he’s serious.
“What did Adalynn ever do to you?”
“I’m not talking about her.”
It dawns on me who he means. I’m not sure how to react. “What’s wrong with Jax?”
“Nothing. I just don’t like another guy being so close to you.”
I smile, and he brushes his finger against the back of my hand. Tingly little goose bumps travel up my arm.
I don’t even hear the door open behind me or the chatter of students who are spilling out until Caius looks away.
“I’ll come back later, okay?” The dimple shows when he asks.
I nod.
“There’s something I want to show you.”
…
The wall clock says ten on the dot as I walk into the dance hall for the second time this evening. I set my bag down inside the room and smile at Helen, who has the time slot before me. We aren’t expected to be chummy or build team spirit like with soccer or volleyball, but I smile anyway as we walk past each other. There’s no reason to be rude. Obviously, not everyone sees it that way.
She’s Legacy. She doesn’t smile back. I should be used to it by now. At least she doesn’t throw an elbow at me when I walk by.
I half expected Caius to be there, waiting, and can admit that I’m a little disappointed when he’s not. Then, I realize he wouldn’t want anyone to catch him after hours in the Arts Building, since classes are over and he doesn’t belong inside. He’s probably holding off until it’s safe to come inside. Like I said before, there are eyes everywhere. I’m allowed to stay late because I booked the room, but the campus has a curfew, and we’re forbidden to wander around without a purpose after eight p.m.
I can hardly believe he likes me. Part of me keeps thinking that I’ll wake up any minute and realize this is all a dream.
My hair’s down, hanging past my shoulders because I didn’t actually think I’d be practicing tonight. I’m not certain when he’ll show, so I might as well be productive.
I take off my bracelet, the gift from my sponsors, and wrap it in the sweat towel inside my bag so I don’t lose it. Since I’m already five minutes into my time, and I realize that doing something, anything, is better than nothing, I pull my hair into a high ponytail and start stretching. This always makes me think of my Gran. She used to be a dance teacher in Atlanta. My grandfather died before Gran learned she was pregnant with my mom. Gran moved to Maine to be closer to relatives and taught private lessons to wealthy kids in order to support her and my mom.
Gran is the one who taught me how to dance instead of walk. She told me that I used to leap, not jump, from the time I took my first steps. When other kids were learning to run, I was repeating, “Pas de couru.”
Ballet is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and important because it’s the foundation of everything else in dance. But I like contemporary. I’m strong, flexible. And I’m built for power.
I punch my fist through the air and then jerk it back. I drop to the floor into a spin. My right leg sweeps over the wood, tucks behind me. My back arches. I reach for the stars. Head jerks left. Focus on center. I run through the opening of my competition piece one more time in my head first, and then mark it before fully committing to the choreography. When I finish, I plop to the floor and I’m breathing hard.
And then I hear clapping. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks when I find Caius standing inside the door. I didn’t even hear it open.
“Hey.” His voice washes over me, and my stomach flip-flops as my breath catches.
“How long have you been standing there?” People observe me at dance all the time, so I’m surprised at how awkward I feel with him in the room. But then, there’s a big difference when there’s one person in a studio versus dozens in a dark auditorium. Even at the pep rally, it was easy to block everyone out.
“You’re kind of amazing, Tori,” he says with a reverence that sends more warmth rushing through me, causing goose bumps on my arms.
“Thanks.” My fingers braid together. I untangle them and push up to my feet, realizing that the burn mark on my arm is exposed. My mind snaps to the kitten I’d saved and the reminder that would forever be on my arm. I feel self-conscious, so I tuck my arm behind my back to hide it. “You said you wanted to show me something?”
“Yeah. It’s outside.” His gaze sweeps over my clothing. I’m not exactly dressed for the chill. He’s wearing jeans and a couple of layers of shirts.
“I have clothes in my bag.” I smile awkwardly. I move to my dance bag, step into a pair of jeans and shrug on my sweater. Normally, I wear sweats to practice, but I’d been expecting my date to show. “I’m ready.”
“How much time do we have?” he asks with a smile, that dimple on the right side peeking out.
“About an hour and a half to be safe,” I say after glancing at the wall clock.
“You practice late.” He’s surprised.
“It’s the best time to be in here. I get the whole studio to myself. No distractions.” I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to see something besides Easton for a change after three straight years. Three years of being locked inside electric metal gates. Three years of living under a microscope like I’m an experiment in a lab that might explode at any minute. I feel the pressure of having this program’s success ride on me, like I’m the crowning jewel. I have no idea why I’m so important.
He nods, and I’m a little caught off guard that he understands me so well. I’d been wrong about him before, accusing him of being nothing more than a shallow Legacy kid. Someone who’s had a golden life. There was so much more to him.
Turns out the thoughtful guy from English class is the real deal. Now, I’m curious just ho
w many ways he’s different from my original perception.
“Hold on.” I dig out my AllinOne from the bottom of my bag and tug at the corners to open it.
His eyebrows furrow. I nod toward the camera over the door. It’s supposed to be hidden, but Jax hacked into the school’s security system, SAFE NET, and wrote a program so I could escape when I couldn’t take being monitored anymore. “Anyone who looks at the feed will see me.” I skip the part about who wrote the program, even though I’m determined the two of them end up friends.
Caius nods.
I also fail to mention that I’ve been too scared to try out the program. I execute the code and hope for the best.
He opens the door and waits for me to go through first. I’d swear his sharp blue eyes are twinkling.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” My stomach tingles as I pass by him. Part of me is excited and the other part—a very large part—is scared to death that we’re going to get caught. My heart’s thundering in my chest in a way I’ve never felt before.
“No. But I will say it’s not far.” His hand is touching the small of my back, urging me toward the exit and into the crisp evening air. A breeze blows, tickling my face as I pull the rubber band out of my hair. My long hair free falls around my shoulders as I run past the oaks lining this part of the yard.
He stops and checks the air for drones. There are none, so he tugs my hand, and we take off. We wind through oaks and maples until we reach the back of the grounds.
I stop as we near the twelve-foot iron fence.
“End of the line,” I say, panting. I’m in great shape, but I wasn’t warmed up, and the run makes catching my breath hard. Or maybe it’s just being around Caius. I bend forward and put my hands on my knees, my lungs clawing for oxygen. I don’t care. This is the best I’ve felt since before leaving home.
“Not exactly.” He scales a tree. He’s fast. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that he’s at least half a foot taller than me.
“Whoa. That metal fence is wired, and I’m not in the mood for a barbeque.”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?” he teases back, and I laugh.
Caius is so…different…than I expected. Down deep, I think I knew it all along. I was a complete jerk to lump him into the same category as Rhys. I’m still aware that he’s Legacy and I’m Sponsored. Those are facts that won’t disappear easily. Plus, I have no idea what he sees in me. He’s good looking and confident, smart. He could have basically any girl in the school, especially with his Legacy status. For some reason, he likes me. And this knowledge makes me happy and giddy in ways I’ve never felt before.
“Come down.”
His hand drops from the canopy. “Or how about you come up.”
I hesitate.
“Come on, Tori,” he urges. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
I take his outstretched hand, ignoring the thrill in my chest, and plant my right foot against the tree’s base. I look up, and all I can see is Caius smiling down at me, so I tighten my grip on his and pull. Somehow, I manage to climb onto the same branch he’s standing on.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Surprisingly, yes. Better than okay. This is cool.” I glance around. I’ve never been much of a nature girl, but here I am, standing on a thick branch, peeking through the leaves at the world beyond the school. Real freedom is on the other side. The thought is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. His arm wraps around my waist, steadying me. I grab hold of the tree trunk with both hands for balance.
“Good. Because we’re not done.”
“I might be,” I warn.
“We’re almost there.” He’s so close to me that I breathe in his scent. He smells like spices and musk, and I like it very much.
He looks me in the eyes, and the squirrel loose in my chest goes wild. “Trust me?”
I take in a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Yeah, sure.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing,” he says with a laugh. He takes my hands off the steady trunk, turns, and then places them around his waist so I can hold onto him as he walks.
My heart races faster with every forward step, and my fingers are electric touching him.
“Nice and easy,” he says, calm as anyone. I feel the branch dip under our weight.
All I can focus on is the back of his shirt as I inch forward. I feel my way across the branch by practically curling my toes around it.
A bird stares back at me from its nest. A sliver of white egg peaks out. The bird looks wary of us. I wish there was some way to communicate to her that she has nothing to worry about here.
“Hold on tight.” His steps are slow, deliberate. No doubt for my benefit. “Okay, we’re going to jump. I’ll go first.”
“No way.” The tip of the metal fence is ten feet below. If I lose my footing, I’ll be impaled. Now, there’s an image.
“It’ll be fine. Besides, I’m in front. I have to go first.” Sure, he’s being reasonable, but I’m beyond that point now.
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts. My chest is squeezing. My throat is already so dry that it’s like I swallowed a glue stick.
“Hold onto this.” He puts a flimsy tree branch in my hand. And then another on the other side of me. “And this.”
I should probably scream because I’m probably about to die. I hear all kinds of insects chirping. At least, I think they’re insects. They could be anything. I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. I’m kind of regretting not studying harder in biology class about now. I only focused on what I needed to pass the test. I didn’t realize that I’d actually need to know which creepy-crawlies carry paralyzing venom.
Caius leaps. I hear him hit the ground and laugh. The last part is reassuring because I’d expected to hear a buzzing noise and see smoke.
“Come on, Tori.” Even scared, I like it when he says my name. I take a leap, even though all I can see is branches and nothing below.
I expect to hit the ground, but I feel his arms catching me first, softening my impact. We hit grass and roll. Our arms are tangled.
“See. That wasn’t so bad,” he says when we come to a stop. He’s lying on his back, facing the sky, and a laugh rolls out.
One tickles my throat, too. It’s so freeing being outside the school walls. I shouldn’t get too comfortable. Another year and two months and I’ll leave this place for college. Will university be as suffocating? I doubt that I’d be able to take four more years of this, five counting next year in high school.
I turn and stare at the twelve-foot metal bars. “I didn’t realize how much this place looks like a prison from the outside.”
All I hear in response is Caius blow out a breath. “That must suck. Living on campus. Being there year-round, all the time.”
“It could be worse.” It’s the lie I’ve been telling myself for nearly three years.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Tori,” he says. “I get that you have to do that with the others, but you can be yourself with me.”
I don’t respond. I’ve been toeing the party line for so long I’m afraid I’ve started to believe it.
He shoots up to his feet and offers a hand up.
I take it.
He doesn’t let go, and I like the warmth of his skin against mine as he braids our fingers and then tugs me up the hill. We crest at the same time, and I realize that we’re overlooking a graveyard. It should be creepy, but it’s magical.
“There are only a couple dozen families buried here,” he says. “They built these elaborate catacombs and hired some of the world’s best sculptors for headstones. The place is even more incredible during the day when you can walk through the tombs, which are basically art pieces.”
“Amazing. How do you even know about this place?” There’s enough dim lighting to admire the gothic architec
ture with archways pointing faithfully toward the night sky and the canopy of twinkling stars.
He finds a spot on the other side of the hill and takes a seat where we have the best view of the cemetery and then tugs me down beside him. I like that he doesn’t let go of my hand.
We sit there, shoulder to shoulder, as he holds my left hand in between his own.
“My folks used to send me to Easton every summer for camp.” Wealthy parents spend big money on camps so that their children can meet professors—the people who will offer recommendations to the Admissions Committee.
Caius tightens his grip on my hand, and I get a free fall sensation in my stomach, as if I’ve jumped off the side of a cliff.
“Right. Camp kids stay on campus.” It has happened every summer since I’ve lived here. All the kids come in looking the same, wearing similar clothes and expressions. I can’t begin to imagine the life of privilege he has had. The best food. The best clothes. The best everything.
Again, I can’t help but ask why. What does he see in me? I let it go. I’m happy for the first time in…
How sad is that I can’t remember?
“It was easier than dealing with us at home twenty-four-seven. At least that’s what I overheard my own mother say.” He stares out at the tombs.
“Didn’t you like it here?” I ask, picking up on his heavy emotions.
“I find that it can be”—he absently tugs at the collar of his shirt with his free hand—“a little too stifling.”
“Really?” I don’t exactly hide my shock. “For a Legacy?”
He lets go of my hand.
“I see how it is. You think my status makes my life better? Is that it?”
“No. I don’t,” I lie. He’s right. I don’t know the big things about him, let alone the little ones. I’ve become the thing that I detest most—someone who minimizes everyone around them by labeling them.
“I just meant that you’re so calm all the time, and you look so relaxed. I feel like a scattered mess. I’m always worried about something. Grades. Competing, getting kicked out.” My effort to explain myself is weak.