“Not so little.” He winked. “And I know exactly the kind of girl I’m dealing with.” He sounded really confident about that. It didn’t matter. Like I said, Justin Roberts could bring his worst.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My grandmother stared down the stone-faced woman across from her, both of their eyes glinting with their anger.
“I will not accept you working for free,” Nana said with steel in her tone. “Especially since you say it’s going to take a couple of weeks.”
“Yes, you are. Not only are you going to do it, but you will also accept a loaner car, and you’ll say thank you when you’re done, and that will be it,” Lucas’ aunt Pam said, just as firmly as my grandmother.
Lucas leaned in beside me. “They’ve been at this for twenty-four hours. Zack’s money is on your grandma, but I’m sticking with Aunt Pam.”
We stood in the small office space of the Midtown Auto Repair, watching the two formidable women square off. The office was immaculate for how cramped it was, and everything was color coordinated with blue calendars and every shade of sticky note on them. Each file cabinet was a different hue as well, making a rainbow across the room. A color key sat on one side with words like taxes and client details. Photos of Zack, Lucas, and I was guessing their mother and father and little sister sat in several places on the desk, counter, and behind a massive, ancient-looking computer that was painted with bright designs. Pam herself had several shades in her hair, though her dirty jumpsuit was taupe.
“I think my money is still on Nana . . .” I looked over at him. “Wait, are we talking actual money, because I don’t have any of that.”
Lucas smiled with full-wattage dimples. “Yeah. It’s Zack’s thing. He’s always got some scheme, bet, or game going. You want to head over to the library?” He threw a thumb back toward the parking lot. “It’s about five blocks over. The whole club is waiting there to meet you.”
“Oh, that’s nice of them,” I said as a little thrum of excitement bubbled up in my belly. From the moment I met up with Lucas, I’d been trying to guess at what type of supernatural students Blackburn Academy held. It was possible that Lucas and his friends were like me. But, if Lucas was a vampire, I couldn’t tell from looking at him. “Just let me say goodbye to my grandmother.”
Nana barely acknowledged me as I kissed her on the cheek, so I shot Lucas an amused look, and then we both headed out the door into Midtown.
The moment we stepped out among the line of shops that bordered Midtown Park, the heat slammed into us. It felt like we were baking in an oven. The smell of roasting pavement made my nose itch as we jogged along the shops and veered into the park on a shortcut to the library. Oak trees shaded our path but did nothing to lessen the midday heat.
The hot draft evaporated the moisture in my mouth, leaving my throat aching, and my tongue sandpaper rough. I was just focusing on breathing and walking at the same time, when Lucas whispered, “Shit. We have to hide.” He headed to the trunk of an oak tree and ducked behind it. He waved his hand at me when I didn’t move. “No, seriously, January.”
I trudged behind the thick, gnarled trunk and slumped back. “This has to be the hottest day Brightside has ever seen,” I panted. “It must be one-ten in the shade.”
Lucas held a finger to his lips just before a beefy jock jogged by. My heart flipped as, for a second, I thought it was Justin Roberts. But as I leaned out to see a little better, it was clear that this guy was taller and more muscular. Their faces were similar too. Both were handsome with sharp features and cleft chins, but this guy had a mean glint in his eyes I could see from ten yards away.
“No, seriously, for the love of all things good in this world . . .” Lucas whispered, “Stop peeking out where he can see you.”
I headed around the other side of the tree. “I thought that was Justin Roberts for a second,” I said through labored breaths. “They look similar.”
“No, that is Justin Roberts’ cousin, who is in a whole different class of need-to-avoid-like-the-plague. Trust me.” Lucas’ eyes widened, and then his usually ever-present smile returned to his lips. “Let’s go before he sees us. It’s only another three blocks.”
“Are you serious? We’ve only gone two blocks?”
“You want a piggyback ride?” He offered, showing me his back.
“Um.” I tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m so very tempted, but if I climb on your back, I’ll lose the tenuous threads I’m holding to my dignity.” Leaning down, I peered out of our little natural awning to the next tree, which, unfortunately, was on the far side of the park. “I can make it.”
By the time we reached the library, and I caught my reflection in the windows, my hair stuck out of my head like I’d stuck my fingers in a power outlet, and my face was both flushed and sweaty. Lucas, on the other hand, didn’t even look like he was sweating.
Even though the county library near my old house had all the classics, Midtown Brightside library beat ours by a mile. There were books as far as I could see on all sides of me. A wide stairway led up to an open second story with even more shelves.
“So, who’s that guy and why were we hiding from him?” I asked as I paused just beyond the library doors to bask in the blissful air-conditioning.
“Blackburn Academy is mostly awesome, and I don’t want to discourage you from going there whatsoever. But there are a group of students there called the Elites. They have both bottomless bank accounts and a particular set of skills, and this makes them untouchable at school. We do everything in our power to not catch their attention. That guy could get away with murder — and I’m not exaggerating that.”
It was hard to believe that wasn’t an exaggeration, but people got away with murder all the time.
“Is Justin an Elite?”
“No, but his mother is. A couple of them are related to him through Gina Roberts, like the guy out there.” He examined my face. “I’ve totally talked you out of going for the trials, haven’t I?”
Nothing would talk me out of competing at this point. Everything Lucas said just cemented my suspicions that it was a school for different kinds of supernaturals. Obviously, some types were more formidable than others.
“Nah, Walter,” I said with a wink. After gulping down cool, refreshing water at the water fountain, I stood straight and grinned at my burly companion. “There are people like that at every school. So, these Elites are the ones partying at the Roberts Mansion every night?”
“Probably, but most of the people there are just regular rich Blackburn students.” Lucas began to turn away but looked at me from the side of his eye. “Speaking of the Robertses, or more particularly Justin Roberts . . .” He paused and his lips twisted, “Last night he seemed to be implying —”
“You know!” I interrupted loudly, “This is my second time coming here, and I’m pretty sure that I’m ready to marry this library.” I grabbed a book off the counter and lifted it to my nose. “This is — by far — my favorite smell in the world.” Setting the book down, I rushed up toward the main staircase, hopping up the steps two at a time.
Lucas caught up to me, openly laughing with his shoulders shaking. “I think either the sun got to you or you’re trying to avoid talking about Justin.”
I sighed. “Okay, fine, so here is the total of my connection to Justin Roberts. We know each other from before. He doesn’t want me living in his house, or hanging near his richie-rich friends, or going to Blackburn Academy, or getting a scholarship from his parents. We fight more than we get along. I’m sort of stuck in that mid-place where I say his name like an oath but would probably defend him if I heard anyone else talking crap.”
Lucas nodded like he completely understood what I was saying. “I get it, like an unpleasant cousin. I have a couple of those.”
Uh . . . no. Not even in the same ballpark, there. My feelings toward Justin could not be further from cousinly but seeing the conversational out that Lucas was giving me, I shrugged. “Kind of.”
/> Lucas led me through the fiction aisles and back to a room with a half-wall of glass windows on all sides. The label above the door read, Quiet Study Room, but I could clearly see a group of teens inside laughing, talking, and wrestling.
Lucas reached for the door, and, the moment he opened it, sound burst out, quickly followed by the guys and girls within hushing each other. Eleven students were sitting in there, all looking to be about my age, and staring at us with wide grins on their faces.
Everyone there was buff — and I mean everyone. It looked like I stepped into a room of teenage Olympians. Some had lean muscles, but most were on the burly side. Several of the guys looked like they could crush nuts by putting one on the inside of their elbow and flexing. Two girls sat at the end of the table, both grinning warmly, and two other boys who were noticeably leaner sat on the other side. I actually recognized one of them; it was the blond cowboy gate guard that worked during the day.
“Fancy that; I thought it was going to be you.” He nodded, his purple eyes glittering with amusement.
“You know Blondie?” Zack said from where he leaned back at the other side of the table.
“Blondie?” Cowboy asked. “I work at her house, so yeah, we’ve met.” He gave me a wink.
“Hey.” I raised my hand in a wave before turning back to the crowd, hoping that my cheeks weren’t flushing. “Hey to everyone.”
“Everyone, this is January,” Lucas said as he threw one arm around my shoulders. “She’s a little weird, but in the good type of way. January, this is the Bad Boys Club. The first test is if you can resist the urge to laugh at the name. Susie’s little sister invented it.”
It looked like I might fail before I started because a laugh was trying to escape my lips, and I held a hand over my mouth to try to force it back.
“It’s okay; you can laugh; it’s really awful,” one of the two girls said. Big, brown curly hair surrounded her oval-shaped face. She was small and compact like a gymnast, absolutely gorgeous with bow-shaped lips, an upturned nose, and deep-set eyes. “Especially since there are more than just boys in this group. I think Jean was just going through a phase.”
“Well, anyway, that’s Susie, and sitting beside her is one of our honorary members, Mia. She swears a lot, so I hope you’re not sensitive. Mia is the only one not here on a scholarship.”
“I just don’t tolerate assholes,” Mia said with a wave.
“Come see her if you want to start an endless debate,” Zack said with a wide grin.
“I reserve endless debates for tyrants like you, Zack Baldwin. But you can come and find me if you need an ally in a school full of self-important asshats.” She grinned, her whole face lighting up with her mirth. She was also gorgeous, with long, wavy black hair, and a wide, sharp nose with a gold nose ring. If I had to peg her as some type of Olympian, I’d say she looked like a swimmer with muscular shoulders and perfect posture.
“Why on Earth are we wasting our Sunday?” A guy a few chairs to my left asked. The boy gave me serious military-wannabe vibes with his crew-cut, dark brown hair, rigid posture, and a hard glint in his burnt-sienna eyes. His nose was crooked, maybe from a break or two. Leaning his forearms into the table, he looked around the group with an incredulous expression. Between his expression and demeanor, I felt a little intimidated as he glared over at me. “She’s not going to pass the Athletic Trial. This has to be a joke.”
“January, meet our resident self-important asshat, Patrick,” Mia said with a wave.
“You’re not even one of us, Mia,” Patrick sniped.
I couldn’t focus on the rudeness of this guy Patrick’s statement, because peering around this crowd here, my heart was sinking. “So, the Athletic Trial isn’t like running a mile and then doing a couple of pushups?” I paused as several of the people at the table glanced at each other. “It’s like bench pressing sedans, isn’t it?”
“You’re not an athlete?” Susie asked, and I could guess that she was being kind. Taking one look down my body, it was obvious that, while I had a semi-decent metabolism, where I wasn’t curvy, I was definitely soft. Painting for hours on end strengthened my hand, arm, and back muscles, but not in a way that would help me in an athletic test.
“Here, here. Everyone, calm down. Calm down, folks,” Zack said while rocking his chair onto its back legs. “We’ve got this, Blondie. First, unlike everyone else who will be competing against you in the trials, all you have to do is pass each trial to get into Blackburn Academy. You can get a nineteen out of twenty in the obstacle course, and you’ll still pass.”
“Obstacle course?” I was thinking that it didn’t sound so bad when I noticed that everyone at the table was wincing.
“All right, Blondie,” Zack said as his chair legs slammed down. “We’ve been talking this morning. The thing is, Lucas pretty much has to help you study. When George Roberts says jump, he expects Lucas to fly. And my brother asked us to help you get ready for the trials. We all owe Lucas about a lifetime’s worth of favors, me more than anyone.” Several people at the table nodded at that one. “Usually we would be jumping to say yes to anything Lucas asked us for, but we have reservations about you. We all know that you’re in tight with the Robertses, so some of us are . . . well, we’re a little wary about letting you into our ranks. So, we’ve decided to make this offer. If you answer one question from each of us, we’ll take a vote and see if we like you. If we vote yes, every single one of us will help you get ready for the entrance exam. If we vote no, it’s just you and Lucas.”
“Vote if you like her, Zack?” Lucas shook his head. “Seriously. Please don’t be offended by my brother’s inexcusably rude suggestion,” Lucas blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I told you Zack was always running a scheme. I thought these guys might be of some help, but I guess not. Let’s just head out into the library and go study.”
Zack threw up his hands. “It’s not that different than the Character Trial she’s going to have to do. If anything, it’ll be good practice.”
“How many trials are there?” I asked. My question caused pretty much everyone at the table to gape at me.
“You don’t even know the number of trials?” the rude guy Patrick said as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“Three,” Susie called out from the other side of the table. “Athletic Trial, Character Trial, and Academic Trial. And, Zack didn’t phrase it very well, but a lot of us do really want to help you. We just also want to do it while protecting ourselves. We have to be careful.”
I had a feeling saying no here would also be rejecting my eleven best chances of friendship at Blackburn Academy. Yeah, the whole thing was a little screwed up, but I was sensing that they had good reasons behind their wariness.
I patted Lucas’ arm, telling him that I was okay, and turned to the group. “So, how personal are these questions, and can I pass if I don’t want to answer?”
“If they’re personal, we promise they’ll be relevant,” Susie said with a look that was half-smile, half-apology. “And yeah, you should have at least a couple passes.”
“One pass,” Patrick snapped. “If that.”
Mia raised her hand. “If my vote counts, I say she should get at least two.”
Zack cleared his throat. “All in favor of two passes.”
Seven people raised their hand.
He smacked his chair back down once more. “Two it is. Blondie, you in?”
Taking a steadying breath, I took one of the few remaining seats, situated myself on the cold plastic and scooted forward. Nervousness thrummed through me, but I swallowed it down and said, “All right. Shoot.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The big beefy brunette guy on my right went first, giving me a small smile. “I’m Michael. Nice to meet you. I guess I’ll start,” he said in a booming voice. “Do you know anyone else who goes to Blackburn?”
“Uh, yeah . . .” I scooted my chair toward the table and laid my elbows on the wood veneer. “C
harlotte Russell.”
There was a low whistle around the table, and someone muttered, “Zero for one.”
Clearly, Char had been busy making new friends and enemies.
“The name’s Richard. And what I want to know is how’d you know Charlotte Russell?” asked the next guy over. He was blond with a boxy-shaped face and physique. Colorful tattoos covered both of his arms. He had a slightly crooked front tooth, but it only made the guy more good-looking. He sat in a silver motorized wheelchair, pulled up to the table.
I threaded my fingers together. “Are you guys going to repeat the things I say in here. I’m not sure that Charlotte really wants everyone to know about our history together.”
“Whatever you say will stay in this room,” Zack said as he cupped his hands behind his head. “We won’t even talk about it with each other again. This is only for screening purposes.”
I rubbed my lips together as I tried to think of what I could say that wouldn’t be betraying something Char didn’t want public. “We went to the same school,” I finally said. “We’d been close up until she moved to this part of town. She helped my nana get the housekeeper gig with the Robertses.” I swallowed my urge to add that the intentions behind that might not have been altruistic. “When things got too much at home, she’s the one who’d always let me crash at her place, and her mom would invite me for dinner every weekday and send me home with food for my mom, so yeah, I’m really not going to talk bad about Char even if you don’t like her. Anyhow . . .” I looked to the following person in the lineup, as they seemed to be going in order. “Next question?”
The guy looked taken off guard, and red splotches appeared on his pale, freckly cheeks. “What’s your favorite . . . color?” He had a bit of an accent, Irish, maybe.
“Oh . . .” I shook my head, “I paint, so, shit. That might have to be my first pass.”
Around the table, a few people snickered.
“You might want to rethink that one,” Susie said with a giggle, “you’re definitely going to have to use a pass for whatever Zack comes up with.”
Midnight Secrets Page 10