by Inara Scott
“This is my normal unhealthy skin color,” I joked.
Esther pulled out the chair next to her, her eyes narrow. “What happened with Cam? Weren’t you eating with him?”
“I told him I wanted to sit with my friends.”
Hennie gazed intently at me. I knew she was listening to that “second voice,” and had to use all my willpower to keep the fake smile pinned across my face.
“You said you’d rather sit with us than with him? That’s crazy,” she said.
“Why? He’s not that great, you know. And I can’t stand Anna.” I collapsed into the chair and put my hands in my lap so they wouldn’t see them trembling. Cam and Trevor disappeared from view, and I wondered if they were lurking somewhere in the halls, waiting for me to exit the cafeteria and go to class.
“Now I know there’s something wrong with you,” Esther declared. “Not that great? He’s amazing. He’s like a dream man.”
I winced. “Can we change the subject? I don’t really want to talk about Cam right now.”
“I’m sorry.” Hennie put a hand on my shoulder. “Is there anything we can do?”
I choked back a fresh wave of tears. I will not cry, I will not cry, I chanted to myself. “No, it’s not a big deal.”
Not a big deal unless Cam was actually some sort of a hired stalker who was only pretending he liked me because someone at Delcroix said he had to.
“If he was mean to you, he’s in big trouble.” Esther made a fist and slammed it menacingly into her open palm.
“Yeah,” Hennie agreed. “We’ll take him down for you, Dancia. No problem.”
The image of delicate, fragile Hennie whacking Cam in the kneecaps with a baseball bat leaped to my mind, and I started to giggle. It was one of those giggles that verges on complete hysteria, but at least part of it was genuine. Esther joined in, and then Hennie. I laughed so hard, tears ran down my cheeks.
Once we had control of ourselves, Hennie said, “Seriously, Dancia. We’d do anything for you. That’s what friends are for, you know.”
I nodded and gazed at them gratefully through a watery haze. “Yeah, absolutely. That’s what friends are for.”
Ten minutes later I choked down the remainder of my garden burger, said good-bye to Esther and Hennie, and went to my locker to retrieve my books for fifth period—English I. The halls were filled with slamming doors, laughter, and shouting. I felt like I was in a reality show, and any second someone would come by to interview me about my experience at Delcroix. “Everyone’s really nice,” I would confide. “We’re just like any other high school kids.” And everyone watching would roll their eyes because they would know the truth, that we weren’t the least bit like other kids.
I was the first one to class, so I watched everyone file into the room. I imagined which of them might be candidates, like me. Or were we all candidates? I could already see the Watcher reports for Esther and Hennie: Candidates assimilating well. No concerns to note, other than association with Candidate Lewis. Will continue to monitor closely.
Who were the other Watchers anyway? Was Trevor one? He showed up at Ethics every now and then. Mr. Fritz said he was working on a special project, but now I wondered if the notes he was taking were about us, not Mr. Fritz’s lectures. Come to think of it, Jack had complained weeks ago that Trevor was practically a fixture on their side of the residence hall, and even though it was almost Thanksgiving, he was still counting us every day at lunch.
My thoughts were driving me back to the edge of hysteria, so I tried to distract myself by opening up my backpack and arranging my notebook and pen carefully on the desk. The only problem was, I’d doodled Cam’s name into the notebook over and over again, and so looking at it, of course, made me think of him.
Could he really betray me like that? I didn’t necessarily believe he liked me, but I’d never imagined he didn’t even want to be my friend, that hanging out with me was nothing more than his job. Fortunately, that depressing thought was interrupted by the start of the lecture.
“Thank you all for coming to class on time. Now, we’re going to jump right into the politics of fifteenth-century England. Can any of you tell me what you learned this weekend about that time period?”
After receiving a few halfhearted responses, our teacher, Mr. Phillips, began to drone from the front of the room. We were starting our first Shakespeare play, and it wasn’t even fun Shakespeare, like Romeo and Juliet. It was boring Shakespeare—Henry V. Which meant that we had to learn about the history of the time, the politics, and Henry’s crazy partying days before he’d assumed the crown. This might have been fascinating to the fifteen-year-old boys in the class, but it left me cold.
The lump of paper in my back pocket kept nudging me, making me squirm on my seat. Didn’t I owe it to Cam to keep my mind open? Give him the opportunity to explain himself? If I lost his friendship because I’d believed Jack over him, and it turned out Jack was lying, I’d regret it forever.
But then there was Delcroix and all the strange things that had happened since I’d started here. The men following Jack and me, the fact that we both felt a shock when we shook Cam’s hand, Jack’s powers, the odd construction of the third floor…the list was too long to ignore.
As much as I wanted it to, this mystery wasn’t going away. And unfortunately, I made a lousy Nancy Drew. But I couldn’t sit there in my seat and pretend nothing was going on. I had to know the truth, and that meant I needed to talk to Cam.
“Mr. Phillips, I’m not feeling very well. Can I go to the bathroom?”
He cleared his throat, his train of thought clearly interrupted by my question. “What’s that? Not feeling well? Should I call the nurse?”
“No, no.” I made my way toward his desk through a maze of backpacks and legs, and whispered close to his face. “It’s a girl thing. I’ll need to go to my locker first, if that’s okay.”
This was a foolproof way to prevent a male teacher from inquiring too deeply into your intentions. He immediately flushed a dark purple color and grabbed a hall pass from his desk. “Of course,” he whispered back. “Take your time.”
I left my bag there and sprinted up the stairs to the third floor.
At the start of school I would have ignored the paper, ignored Jack, and slunk into a hole where I wouldn’t have caused too much trouble. The thought of confronting someone and admitting the truth about my power would have been impossible—particularly to a guy on whom I had a gargantuan crush. But something in me had changed since I’d started at Delcroix. Something that made me refuse to put my tail between my legs.
I had a power that could make extraordinary things happen. I needed to learn to control it. I knew that now. It wasn’t evil and neither was I. It was time to stop acting like I was.
I was through with secrets. It was time for the truth.
The third floor felt strangely still, as if a heavy hand were weighing on the air. Most of the doors were closed, and when I walked by I could see small groups of students inside, either playing instruments, watching a teacher write notes on a whiteboard, or singing in small groups around a piano.
I reached the far end and turned down the hall where Jack thought there was a secret passage. I had thought the ethics seminars met in those rooms, but as I peered through the tiny windows in the doors, I saw they were all empty.
Shoot. I dug my nails into my palm and blew out an annoyed breath. Cam had said something about his ethics seminar doing independent studies, but I thought they were starting tomorrow. I thought they’d be here today. Frustrated, I slipped into a classroom and stared at the back wall, gnawing on a hangnail while I tried to figure out my next step.
I might be able to catch Cam after school, but then he’d be going to play soccer, and other guys would be around. We’d never be able to talk in private. Then I had practice, and then there was dinner, and then study hours. I’d have to wait until tomorrow.
I turned to leave, but a tug of curiosity stopped me a few feet from t
he door. Shaking my head, I paced the distance from the front to back wall. Thirty paces. Just like Jack had measured. What did it mean?
I was standing there staring at the back wall when I heard the voices. They were muffled, but the closer I got to the wall, the clearer they became. I realized the sound was coming from behind the wall—exactly where Jack had thought a secret passage might lie. At first I strained to make out the voices while facing the hall, so I could run if I saw anyone approaching. But as the murmuring continued and I started to catch scattered words, I abandoned caution and pressed my ear against the wall.
The voices varied in volume, as if people were walking around. The conversation sounded heated, possibly an argument. When I realized one of the speakers was Cam, I felt a surge of adrenaline so strong I had to lean against the wall to keep my balance.
“…really like her…not what a Watcher does…” I strained to hear the rest, but only scattered words were audible.
“Sometimes a Watcher needs to be a little more creative,” a low, persuasive voice rolled out. I immediately realized it was Mr. Judan. You couldn’t mistake that deep soothing bass rumble.
He faded, and all I could hear was a sound like a train in the distance. Then he came closer, and I could make out words again. “He’s the most powerful candidate we’ve identified in decades, except, perhaps, for Dancia herself.”
Powerful? Me?
“If they were to go rogue together, the entire country could be in danger,” Mr. Judan continued.
“I don’t…” Cam’s voice trailed off again.
Cam, speak up! I wanted to scream. But his voice simply didn’t carry like Mr. Judan’s. “Agree he’s a danger… doing my best to keep them apart…”
“No excuses.” Mr. Judan’s voice cut through Cam’s higher-pitched murmur. “They went home together Friday. You must see that that doesn’t happen again. I don’t care what you have to do. You took an oath, my boy, to defend Delcroix and the rest of the world from those who would use their gifts for selfish or dangerous ends. This is when you make good on that oath.”
There was a long silence.
Finally Cam said, “Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”
I heard footsteps and picked my head up abruptly. It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea how they got behind the wall, and that I could be standing right in their path. Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as my sneakers would allow, I made my way back to the door, then ran down the hall all the way back to English, my head buzzing.
Obviously, Jack was right. Something unbelievable was going on at Delcroix, and Cam was knee-deep in it.
“Ah, Dancia. I was just about to send someone to find you.” Mr. Phillips sighed with relief when I marched back into the classroom.
I plopped the hall pass down on his desk. “No need. I’m back.” It had only been ten minutes. Ten minutes, but my life had changed completely.
“Are you ready to run?” Anna laced her shoes into a double knot and straightened her ponytail. It was a rare sunny November day, with delicate beams of light filtering through the canopy of fir trees.
“Today was supposed to be a long run for me, so I’ll probably do about ten miles. But you should feel free to stop before that.” Anna adjusted the waistband on her tiny black-and-pink running tights, which neatly exposed her perfectly toned stomach. She had a matching bra-top to go with the tights.
I was wearing my old Danville Central Hospital T-shirt and cotton sweatpants.
“Fine with me.” It would have been nice for my ego to pretend I could keep up with Anna, but there was just no way. When she started running she was like some kind of machine. She’d just run and run, and never even seem to get tired.
She started at a leisurely pace for the first hundred yards or so. The trail was wide enough for two, and we stayed side by side, even though I was dying to drop behind so I wouldn’t have to look at her. We dipped down a small incline and then up an embankment on the other side. This seemed to be a marker for Anna, because she shot off like someone had fired a starting pistol.
I struggled to catch up, breathing hard even though we had just begun.
“I guess you’re pretty into Cam, huh?” she said.
I wiped the beads of sweat already forming on my brow. “What’s that?” I gulped some air. “He’s a good friend, I guess.”
Or not. I didn’t really know what he was anymore. Just like I didn’t know what to think about Mr. Judan, or anyone else at this stupid school. Anna was probably setting me up for something too.
She snorted. “Friend? Hmph.” We zigzagged around a fallen log and a muddy spot in the trail. Anna neatly avoided both. A branch poked my ankle, and I splashed mud on my shirt.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I forced out between pants.
Anna slowed her insane pace a hair, even though she hadn’t yet broken a sweat. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I would stay away from him if you don’t want to get your heart broken.”
I couldn’t believe it—first Jack, now Anna lecturing me about Cam? I sucked in a desperate lungful of air, trying to concentrate on what Anna was saying while keeping from tripping over my own sneakers.
“He’s a little out of my league,” I said. “I never thought we were more than friends.”
Anna nodded. We ran in silence for minute, and then she said, “So, what’s the deal with you and Jack?”
I stopped dead still in the trail for a moment. “Jack?” I sputtered.
In a matter of seconds, all I could see was Anna’s back disappearing into the dense foliage. I ran hard to catch her; I think she might have slowed down a fraction to let me do so, but it was hard to tell.
“He’s a friend, that’s all,” I called, still a few feet behind. “Why?” She didn’t answer, so I ran faster until we were side by side again. My lungs burned, and a cramp had started under my ribs. “Why does everyone want to talk about Jack?” I cried in frustration.
“I was just wondering. He is awfully cute.” She wove delicately around a stump and a narrow section of trail. “I guess if he was my friend, I’d be keeping my eye out for him.”
“What? What do you mean?” Something in her tone sent a chill down my back.
“I just mean not everyone around here likes him as much as you do. You might want to tell him that.”
The trail turned and crossed out of the woods to flank the playing fields. A small group of guys chased a soccer ball, while a group of girls and guys tossed a Frisbee.
Anna stopped, and I almost plowed into her back. She rested her arms on top of her head and stared at the soccer players. I realized one of them must be Cam. A second later he broke away from the pack long enough to wave at us.
I didn’t wave back. I hung down over my knees and tried desperately to catch my breath. He rejoined the game.
“Jerk,” Anna muttered.
We started running again, this time in silence.
As I settled into my stride, I tried to interpret Anna’s strange warning. Cam’s animosity toward Jack was hardly a secret, but was she suggesting Cam might be capable of hurting him? That was hard to believe. More likely, Anna was so bitter about being dumped that she was now spinning stories about Cam. Or maybe she was hoping I’d rush to Jack’s defense, and that would turn Cam against me.
It was all pretty far-fetched, but the worst part was, whatever code she was speaking, I didn’t get the feeling she was lying.
“Why are you telling me this?” I summoned the nerve to ask. “You don’t even like me.”
Anna checked her watch. “Not everything’s about you, Dancia.”
With that she shook her ponytail and effortlessly lengthened her stride. I stopped on the trail and watched as she sped away from me, her brown hair swinging behind her like a flag.
I SUFFERED through my usual evening of studying, ignoring Catherine, and pretending I fit in with twenty-five other clueless freshmen who had no absolutely idea what was going on behind the walls of t
heir fancy private school. Just before lights-out, a fight broke out in the bathroom when Cara accused Hannah of stealing her razor. Hannah, in turn, accused Cara of using her hair spray. Sides were taken and tears ensued. Parties sent emissaries back and forth between rooms. Hennie got involved to negotiate a truce and soothe hurt feelings.
Catherine gave them all dirty looks and went back to our room and slammed the door. For once I was relieved to be able to follow her and go straight to bed. I had enough real drama in my life. I didn’t need the manufactured kind.
Cam wasn’t at lunch the next day, so I sat with Esther and Hennie. I purposely put my back to the doors of the cafeteria so I couldn’t watch to see if he’d come in. My friends seemed to know something was up, and didn’t mention Cam once. Esther had a short story due in her creative writing class, and Hennie had a vocabulary quiz in Hindi, so they didn’t have time to pay much attention to me anyway. I bit my fingernails, poked at my taco salad, and refused to even look at Jack. As far as I could tell, he was ignoring me too.
I barely heard a word Mr. Phillips said during English; I just stared at the clock and counted the minutes until I could run to study hall. Cam had said he would come get me then. Even with Anna’s odd warning ringing in my ears, I still wanted desperately to see him, all the while dreading the moment I would look into his eyes and know how he really felt.
Though I was convinced he would deny everything, I had decided to confront Cam about the “Watcher report.” I just couldn’t give up on him completely. Part of me still believed there was a way out of this, an explanation for the whole awful mess. The paper lay tucked into my back pocket, wrinkled from where I’d wadded it up the day before.
I started to panic the moment he entered the room. That wavy hair tickling the edges of his ears, those broad shoulders, and the smile that seemed to work even on teachers. It all had a magical effect, and I suddenly couldn’t imagine even suggesting that he was involved in anything so ugly as what the paper might suggest.
He handed my teacher, Mrs. Westerly, an official-looking yellow sheet, and she beckoned for me to approach her desk.