Adrenaline Rush

Home > Young Adult > Adrenaline Rush > Page 3
Adrenaline Rush Page 3

by Cindy M. Hogan


  I took a bow, then hopped off the stage and quickly headed for the door. I wanted to see if Ian would pursue me. He didn’t disappoint. About half way to the lunchroom, he caught up with me.

  “I thought you wanted to get to know what kind of a guy I am.” Ian leaned up against the wall of lockers and looked at me thoughtfully.

  “Oh, sorry!” I said, my face heating up. I continued down the hall to the cafeteria. He followed me. “I do, it’s just, when I get hungry, I kind of lose my brain.” I kept walking, figuring he would continue to chase me because no girl in her right mind would ever walk away from him.

  “We can’t have that now, can we?” he said, taking my arm and leading me to the cafeteria. We headed for the turkey sandwich line. After I’d ordered, he ordered too, and, then paid for both our meals. Was he already recruiting me? I could only hope.

  “You really didn’t need to pay for me. I have money.” He’d only met me an hour ago, and he was already being so nice. I guessed he wanted something from me. Why else would he be so chivalrous? He led me to a table with seven other kids, some with home lunches and others with food they’d bought at school. Everyone stopped talking and looked back and forth from Ian to me until he introduced me to everyone.

  “These are my friends, Camden, Troy, Tate, Jensyn, Mindy, Abby, and Tarran.”

  Each said hi in turn, and I nodded.

  “And I expect you to remember everyone’s names,” Ian nodded and chuckled.

  Everyone else laughed. Of course, I did remember their names. I’d already seen pictures of them in Division 57’s file, and I’d seen all of them in my first three classes.

  “Misha, here,” Ian said, as I sat at the round table, “likes to fall from the sky.”

  They all hollered out ‘boorah’ in apparent appreciation, and several either put up a hand for a high-five or gave me a fist to hit. I sat and tried to listen to everyone tell all at once about this time or that when something cool happened when they jumped. I paid close attention to what they said, looking for clues for anything to contradict my assumption that Ian was the group leader.

  Jensyn had brown shoulder-length hair and a cute button nose. She had jumped in Brazil into some old ruins.

  Abby was the blonde and had only tandem jumped. She’d been so unsteady, she caused her instructor to face plant it. She was vivacious, spontaneous, and fun and laughed along good-naturedly as the others teased her for falling.

  Troy was lanky and sported black hair. He loved to ride motocross. He had jumped with his bike strapped to him and once he landed, he stood up and rode away.

  Camden, one of the blond boys from science, kept to himself. Would the kidnappers choose Camden or Tate? Both were blond. I bit into my sandwich and noticed that there were four girls at the table, not including me, and four guys. Only one person was missing. The last guy finally came, grabbing a chair from another table and stuffing it under ours.

  “Mrs. Woiwode’s such a beast,” he said, sitting down. “She made me clean up all the crap people had dropped on the floor all day, just because I was tardy to her class. My first time, too. I had no idea.” His green eyes pounced on mine, and his liquid voice smothered me in chocolate. He ran his hand over his wild, yet somehow perfectly styled, light brown hair. “Well, who’s this?” he asked, tilting his chin in my direction and looking me straight on for several agonizing seconds, before Ian answered.

  “She’s the new girl, Misha.”

  “Well, Misha,” he said. “Welcome to Madness.” He said it in a fun, flippant way. His eyes never left me the rest of the lunch hour, but no one bothered to tell me his name. It didn’t matter, I already knew it. Dakota. I felt like a particularly great-looking bug that had caught the attention of a determined crow. I tried to ignore his continuous stare by listening to everyone talk about skydiving and all the cool places they’d like to go to jump. Relief filled me as the bell rang.

  “What do you have now?” Ian said.

  “Gym.”

  “Cool.” He flicked a thumb at the green-eyed boy. “Dakota has gym right now, too. Don’t cha, Dakota?”

  “Yep!” He looked at me and then nodded his head toward the door like he wanted me to follow him.

  My foot caught on the table leg as I tried to stand up, and I tripped. Ian grabbed me by the waist before I fell. My face must have created a new shade of red.

  “Thanks,” I said, keeping my head down and then grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze to show him I was truly thankful even though I didn’t look at him.

  “No problem,” he said. “We’ve all taken a spill because of those awful table legs at some point.” I didn’t know if he was telling me that just to make me feel better or if it was true. At the moment, I didn’t care. I just appreciated his effort at making me feel less dumb. Dakota chuckled, and I felt my face fire up again as I followed him out into the hall. Dakota and Ian were by far the best looking guys in the group, and somehow I’d managed to get noticed by both in a very short amount of time.

  It shocked me when Dakota grabbed my elbow and pulled me out the front doors of the school. I noticed his hand was a bit sweaty. Was he nervous? After letting go, he rifled through a bush and pulled out his longboard. “Hop on,” he said.

  “Alright!” I said as I hopped on the back of the longboard, trying to hide the prickly fear filling my chest. In the files, the profiler for Division had suggested I get together with Dakota. A relationship would solidify Misha’s entrance into the group, and Dakota was supposedly the most compatible with Misha. They were right. He made my heart pound. He put his feet on the board next to mine and pulled my arm around his waist while he put his arm around my shoulders. If the board hadn’t been under our feet, it would have looked like we were walking down a sidewalk, side by side. A tremor went up my spine.

  “Put your other arm out,” he said.

  I obeyed, throwing my arm out to my side as he leaned toward the front of the board, sending us shooting down the steep sidewalk toward the gym.

  He then pulled us to a sweet stop by grabbing onto the flagpole, sending us around and around.

  I yelled out. At some point, he moved his arm from my shoulders and put it around my waist before pulling me off the board. It shot off into the bushes, leaving us standing, squished together near the pole. Nervous energy had me turning around to face him, thinking that he would remove his hands from my waist and take away the heat spreading through my gut. But he kept his arm around my waist as we walked, side by side up the steps. I giggled.

  He then rushed forward to open the door to the gym for me. I gasped, letting my eyes go wide. “Why thank you, kind sir,” I said with a curtsey. He gave an outrageously elaborate bow in return. Was he always so nice to girls? He made me feel special, and I liked it. Once inside the gym, he said, “That’s your stop,” and pointed to the door that read, Girls.

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling up at him.

  “Any time.” He pulled away, and I watched him walk to the boys’ locker room. Before he entered, he looked back at me, smiled and waved me toward the girls’ locker room.

  I could still feel the heat from his arm around my waist as I pushed my way into the room. I hadn’t expected to have such strong feelings for Dakota, especially not so quickly. I told myself to be professional and just do my job. Behind the door was your typical, run-of-the-mill locker room with girls changing into PE clothes and talking excitedly. Fruity smells of hairspray and deodorant filled the air.

  I went straight for the coach’s office, and she gave me the school uniform and my locker number with the combination to open the lock. The locker room was empty by the time I’d changed. I thought about the Vans in my locker in the commons, but since I didn’t have any tennis shoes with me, I stuffed my feet back into my red, leather boots and clopped my way into the gym.

  The students were doing jumping jacks, led by a student leader. I headed for the coach who directed me to the last row, fifth from the center on the girls’ side. A
s I walked in that direction, the clomping of my boots finally caught her attention, and she called out, “Ms. Roberts, I’m sure you took gym in your last school, and I’m sure you were never allowed to wear such interesting footwear to class. Please follow me back into my office, and we’ll see if we can’t find something in the lost and found to accommodate those feet of yours.”

  Many in the class laughed. I took a bow before following her. I tried on several pairs of shoes and socks until I found ones that fit. It surprised me that someone had abandoned such a good pair of Adidas running shoes. The cute boots headed to the locker, and then I entered the gym.

  I looked around for Dakota and spotted him in the middle of the guys’ side of the gym. I watched his biceps bulge as everyone switched to pushups. I spotted him looking at me upside down at the height of the pushup, giving me a toothy grin. That’s when I noticed I was the only one standing. I hurried to the floor and, since he was staring, I decided to show off a bit. In perfect form, I knocked the pushups out, catching up with the count of twenty push-ups before the leader even got to seventeen. I got up and grinned at him.

  He sat and nodded at me. His approval felt good. I hoped this would help me hook up with him as quickly as possible.

  The coach’s voice rang out, “You’ll be tested on the mile next week, so today I’ll be timing you to see how you’ve improved from the first time. You’ll need to improve your time if you want to get a passing grade next Friday.”

  Coach motioned to me as the student’s filed out toward the track. “You’re a bit behind, so we’ll have to get you caught up with the other students. This will be your initial try, and you’ll have until next Friday to improve your score.”

  I nodded and made my way out to the track, lining up with the other students to start the race. The coach blew her whistle, and we began running. At the start, I kept to the middle of the pack as I debated what my best plan would be to keep Dakota’s interest in me. Then I felt a hand grab mine and quickly release it. Dakota ran past me, then turned and yelled back, “See ya at the finish line,” a slight note of question, but mostly challenge, in his voice.

  I would take his challenge. He was already at the first curve of the track when I took off and quickly caught up with him. Then I passed him, yelling over my shoulder, “Yeah! See ya at the finish line.” Becoming a spy had done wonders for my physical body. It was a lean, powerful machine.

  He was huffing by the time he caught up with me. I thought about speeding up a tad, just because I could, but a look behind us showed me just how far ahead of the rest of the class we were, and I slowed slightly. We finished together and lay on the grass, laughing.

  “It’ll be hard to improve on that, Ms. Roberts,” Coach said, looking down on me. “You might have kept a slower pace and not gone full out until next Friday’s test.” She walked away.

  I pretended to breathe hard and look tired, slugging Dakota and saying, “Thanks a lot!”

  “Don’t blame me, Speedy Gonzales,” he said. “You’re the one who set the pace.”

  “Well, you’re the one who challenged me,” I said. “I had to go for it.” I sat up, still pretending to work hard to catch my breath and said, “Don’t you love it?”

  “Love what?” he said.

  “The feeling you get after doing something thrilling, like running faster than you ever have?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “Yes, I do.” He stared hard at me. I hoped he was thinking how great I’d be in his group. We watched the others trickle in. Several girls gave me the evil eye and then plopped down on the grass next to Dakota and flirted with him. I turned away, watching the walkers, the ones who didn’t care if they failed gym, make their way to the end. When the bell rang, without looking at him, I moved toward the locker room.

  When I came out, he was waiting for me.

  “Your chariot awaits,” he said, throwing his arm out for me to go out the door we’d entered before class.

  He pushed me up the hill on the longboard back to the front of the school, and we ran inside to go to class.

  After school, I grabbed my longboard and Vans out of my locker and, after swapping my boots for the Vans, I skated to my red Miata. I threw the board in, and just as I was taking my seat, Ian opened the passenger door and sat inside.

  “Any plans?” he asked.

  “Whatcha have in mind?” I asked, and though my voice was completely casual, as though it was totally normal for hot guys to hop into my car unbidden, my heart was racing. The thrill of success bolted through me. I’d done something right. Ian was hot on my trail. Exactly what I needed. It appeared that I’d caught the attention of the most likely leader of Madness. If I found favor with him, I’d be in.

  “We’re going for a ride. Wanna come?” When he pointed his thumb toward the back window, I saw of group standing next to a Jeep, waiting for him. It looked like the same kids from lunch. Dakota stood next to the driver’s door. They all watched us expectantly.

  I was getting more and more convinced that Ian was the leader. He was the take charge kinda guy. The Division file had stated that the recruiter was most likely an older boy posing as a student and that he would run the show. Ian looked too old to still be in high school, and he’d been the one who spoke to me in drama class, and now he’d invited me to ride with them.

  “Sure.” I said. “Should we follow them?”

  “Yep.” His massive body looked comical in my tiny Miata. He raised his hand above his head and made a lasso movement with his arm. All the kids around the Jeep scattered, filling it and one other car. I put the little car in drive and followed them up into the hills near downtown, and we parked by a field full of horses.

  “Horses?” I asked. “We’re riding horses?”

  “Ever ridden?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “This is gonna be fun,” he said, getting out of the car and walking toward the others. “We have ourselves a virgin, guys.”

  I bowed. They all whooped and hollered, climbing up on the white fence and sitting on top. One of the girls sprang over with a rope in hand and walked toward the horses.

  “Watch and learn,” Ian said. “That’s Jensyn.”

  I leaned on the fence. “Are they wild horses?”

  “Sure are,” he said.

  I swallowed hard, not sure if I believed him. I would have to pay attention and pretend to be awed, not scared, just in case.

  I watched Jensyn, her brown, shoulder length hair bounced as she twirled the rope above her head and let it fly once within about fifteen feet of the horse’s black, shiny head. Once the rope was around its neck, she pulled gently on the rope, cinching it tightly around the horse’s neck. She then rubbed the horse’s nose, grabbed ahold of his mane, took a few quick steps, and pulled herself up, throwing one leg over its tall back. She kept one hand in its mane and one holding the rope as it took off running. She screamed out.

  I was suddenly glad I’d worn tiny shorts under my little skirt. Camden and Troy were next, and they did the same thing with ease. It was kind of funny seeing Camden and Troy together. They looked nothing alike, one boxy, the other lanky.

  Movies had made wild horses look much harder to rope. Did they just overdo it in the movies, or were these horses tamer than Ian had led me to believe? I felt a rope being pressed into my hand. Dakota stood next to me grinning.

  “About ready?” he asked.

  “Maybe after the next few go,” I said, still feeling com-pletely unsure.

  “Watch the next two, and then we’ll be up.”

  “We’ll?” I wasn’t going to have to do this alone?

  “I’ll be in there with you since it’s your first time.” He leaned in closer. “I tied your rope for you,” he whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

  “Thanks,” I said, relieved, but trying not to show it.

  I watched both Ian and Mindy rope and mount their horses, then Dakota gave me the run-down of the parts of the rope. “You want to hold
the tail in your left hand because you’re right handed.” He showed me with his rope, and I did the same. “Hold your other hand right outside the honda, next to the circle of rope. The space between the tail and the honda should be about shoulder length apart. You want your circle to be almost as tall as you are, and when you swing it, do it level above your head, just like Ian and Mindy did. Got it?”

  “I think so,” I said, visualizing myself doing it and gripping the rope tightly. I hoped that if I failed, I would at least look cool doing it.

  “You’ll be just fine.” He sprang over the fence, and I climbed it, jumped down, and followed him to a palomino. The palomino shook his head at us as we neared.

  “Whose place is this?” I asked.

  “Some rancher who loves us riding his horses here before he breaks them.” He grinned from ear to ear and winked at me. We obviously weren’t supposed to be here. I felt bad about hijacking someone else’s animals without permission, but this was my job. I’d have to get over it.

  “Alright. Go for it.”

  I whipped the rope in a big circle over my head and then threw it like I’d seen the others do. At least I attempted to. I missed. I tried again and again. The horse moved from side to side with each attempt, but didn’t run away. I thought it curious that it didn’t just run away. I tried again. My throw was way too short. I said a little prayer in my mind and tried a few dozen more times with Dakota giving me little hints here and there. Finally, I moved close enough that I could almost smell the horse’s breath, or at least feel it, and tossed the rope. By some miracle, it took.

  I walked carefully toward the horse, my hand out-stretched, surprised that he let me stroke his nose. I grabbed ahold of his mane and threw myself up, my leg easily clearing his back. I almost overshot and had to pull myself back up. He didn’t run away like all the others. He stayed still.

 

‹ Prev