The Roses Academy- the Entire Collection

by Tara Brown

  I had gone through it before, foster homes and attempts at jobs. I’d heard it many different ways.

  Sighing quietly as I knew it was the end, I sat on the stairs and waited for Lydia to come and tell me to leave. At least I’d gotten a good meal and a night sleep out of it.

  My mind whispered that I needed to go back up the stairs to put on as many clothes as I could find. I would need the warmth, with it being October.

  “No, Ronald, you don’t know who Ari is—you know what she is. She hasn’t even decided who she is yet. She needs time and space from the Roses Academy until she decides.”

  Lydia’s words rolled around in my stunned head for a second. She defended me. I stayed on the stairs, still listening.

  “Ari, just come down here and meet Mr. Halter before he leaves.” Lydia called up to me.

  I sat frozen but a smile crept along my face. Of course, Lydia knew I was there. After a second, I stood and walked down the stairs, fighting the urge to attack the man before I’d even met him. Men felt weird for me now. I didn’t trust him even though I’d never met him.

  Lydia sat in an oversized burgundy chair. Across the room from her sat a man with steel-gray hair and a tanned, weathered face. He reminded me of a very old version of Cookie, making my miss home for a second.

  “Ronald, this is Ari. Ari, this is Mr. Halter. He’s involved in our lives from time to time.”

  I frowned at the man who stood and stared at my hand. I smiled and offered it to him. He made no move. I laughed and sat on the chaise lounge next to Lydia’s chair.

  “You’re very young,” he commented distastefully.

  I knew what I looked like—I was a mess. My arms had tattoos and my face had piercings. I had scars on my arms and one on my cheek. My dark hair was still incredibly short even though, just as Lydia had promised, it had grown at least an inch overnight. Unfortunately, it made me look more like a hedgehog, than a girl. I had a tattoo running up my neck. It was the one thing I hated the most. Then there was the bull ring through my nose and bars through my lip and eyebrow. The piercings were the frosting on the freak cake. I wore the jeans Annabelle had put out for me and a tee shirt. My body was slight from not having eaten often enough and wiry from fighting for everything I had, which was nearly nothing. I could’ve been the definition of angst, if one was able to capture the word in a photo.

  “I’m seventeen.” I hated him. He was the same as all the rest. He was a suit and I hated suits. Suits made decisions for people based on numbers and budgets, not what was best for people. They made their decisions and then went home to their comfy beds at night. Never worrying about where they sent other people to live.

  Aimee came into the room in skinny jeans and over-the-knee brown leather boots with large buckles. She wore a sweater and her blonde hair was in a ponytail. She was so pretty. Everything about her screamed feminine and delicate except her eyes. They warned you not to trust everything else you saw about her.

  She sat next to me and spoke softly, “Ron.”

  He smiled at her. “Aimee.” His smile was genuine, not the wolf-staring-at-the-bunny smile I was used to from a suit.

  Lydia clasped her hands together. “Well, Ronald, now that we’re all here, why don’t you explain to Ari exactly what sort of a situation she is looking at.”

  His gray eyes hardened as he focused on me. “I know this has probably all been very confusing for you, but I do actually know what you are. I knew someone like you once.” He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment.

  My body tensed, but Lydia smiled tenderly as if to tell me I was safe.

  His words gave the impression they stung as he spoke, the story clearly hurt him to tell. “My sister had a best friend when she was a girl. They went to college together. They roomed together. One night her friend got sick—very high fever and complained her hands were burning. All she could really do was guess how it happened. She couldn’t recall the details. We assumed she must have touched my sister in her fevered state. My sister was suddenly gone from the room and every person in my family’s memories changed. No one in my family recalls my sister the way she was, except me. I don't know why, but the girl’s magic didn't work on me.”

  “I’ve seen this.” I swallow hard. “My uncle.”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “You sent your uncle back to the fork in the road that changed his life and forced him to choose the other path.”

  I frowned. “What?” It doesn’t make sense.

  Lydia put a hand out and rested it on my leg. “Sweetie, instead of adopting you, your uncle was forced to abandon you to the orphanage.”

  The words cut my soul. I wanted to block it out. I rolled my shoulders, searching for my zone. “What happened to your sister?”

  He stared me down. “She died. Instead of befriending the girl like you, she chose to be a loner. She had a horrid existence and killed herself. All our lives changed and had I not been—well—special, I would remember it the way they do. My sister never met her friend, she never went to college, and she died at eighteen. My parents’ lives shifted, but they couldn’t recall the shift. They just lived their new way of life as if it were normal.”

  “How did the girl become that, the time shifter?”

  “Child of an angel. I can only assume you are also the daughter of an angel. Did you know your real father?”

  I let his words roll off my back. It wasn’t my story. It wasn’t my fault. My uncle chose what he chose. I didn’t force him into anything. Daughter of an angel—the whole thing was nuts. I knew what was going on. They were trying to make me feel crazy. Then they could lock me up once and for all. That had to be it.

  “What do you know about your real mother?” He leaned in, staring more.

  “I’m not crazy.” I stood and ran from the room and out the front door, across the grass. My legs pushed in my combat boots. I couldn’t run far. My lungs were weak in my new body. I made it to the street where I’d come from, but when I tried to cross, I bounced back as if I’d run into a window. Gasping for air, I lay on the cold, hard concrete for a moment. “Not a prison, my ass,” I muttered bitterly.

  Seething, I stood, limping and ignoring the pain everywhere and walked along the street. I put a hand out in the middle of the air. It felt as if a wall separated the two roads. It was invisible but it still stopped my hand like a cold barrier. I peered up as a bird flew right through whatever it was.

  When I got far enough to realize this barrier wasn’t ending, I paced the perimeter savagely like a tiger in a cage.

  I didn’t know how to get out. The world spun inside me as tension built. As my anxiety grew, the more my hands burned. I thought about everything that had happened the last time my hands burned. I needed to release the energy.

  I turned and ran into the woods. The brush whipped past me as I stormed along, trying to find a gap. I walked until I couldn’t see the house anymore and decided to go back and try to convince her to let me go.

  My anger increased as I thought about the fact that Lydia had me trapped.

  When I burst into the house to find the man and Lydia gone, I stormed about looking for her. My combat boots stomped on the wooden floors.

  “LYDIA,” I yelled.

  “Out here, sweetie.”

  I growled at the sweetness in the old woman’s voice and blasted through the kitchen and out the back door. I was ready for the fight of a lifetime but the backyard stopped me.

  My angry side was shoved to the back as old me viewed the nature and let it take me in.

  The yard was acres of orchard and land.

  The trees were apple and cherry, mixed amongst maples with leaves changing, making the entire yard clouds of bright fall colors. The lake around the back of the property was huge, and had a sizeable dock with some small boats tied to it. A path made its way through the trees and bushes, along the lakefront. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.

  The desert had always made me happy, but the stunning beauty of the pr
operty took away my anger. For a few seconds I forgot what I had been so angry about.

  But my burning palms dragged my eyes from the cold gray lake back to why I’d been mad. I knew how to cool them off. I kicked off my boots and ran. My socked feet squished against the damp grass as I sprinted, landing toe first. I leapt onto the dock, pushing with my burning thighs along the planks. I dove as hard as I could into the water. The cool wind was exhilarating, but the cold water was shocking.

  My skin burned with the heat of my palms until I hit the water. The brutally frigid lake sucked me down into it. I screamed into the water until I had no air left. I pulled myself up to the surface, inhaling sharply and sinking again. Shouting and hollering at nothing, I tried desperately to work off the buildup of energy. It felt like I could go in every direction at once. I was beyond antsy. I swam laps across the lake in my jeans and tee shirt. A sock from my right foot floated beside me.

  I lay on my back, noting the hypothermia setting in. That was when the peace hit me.

  I floated and stared up at the sky filled with gray and white clouds and for a split second wished for the ability to just let go. Just let the air out and allow myself to sink into the dark waters. I could be like The Lady in the Lake. My lips trembled from the cold, and I knew any second I would turn and swim to shore. I couldn’t kill myself. The girl from the desert had never had a thought like that in her life.

  The same could not be said for the street urchin. That version of me had dreamed about it, like it was the ribbon one broke through at the end of a long race. I had visions of the many times I’d tried. Pills, cutting myself, fights I couldn’t win. Each time I stopped before the real injuries would be inflicted. I always managed to heal from all the things I put my body through.

  I thought about the many friends I’d had who’d been able to do it. I’d envied them; their deaths had been amazingly dramatic. But deep down, enough of me remained from before and I loved life and myself too much to ever hurt myself.

  I believed my uncle would want me if I could just make him remember. Or if Lydia could.

  Something grabbed my arm, pulling me. Water splashed at my face and mouth, preventing me from breathing. The force of the waves was so high I couldn’t see past the white froth of the stirring water.

  I fought the grasp of something on my wrist. Against everything that told me to let it take me down and drown me, I fought. I pulled as hard as I could but the hands kept coming back. I jerked my arm from its grasp but as I moved, it grabbed my ankles. I cried out, kicking and screaming for my life.

  “Stop fighting me!” a deep voice shouted, one I didn’t recognize.

  The victim in me nearly froze, feeling the hands on me. But the fighter pulled my arms from his and kicked for my life. The warmth of the hands drew me in. I fought with everything I had, but his strength was too much. Hands swept me up, dragging me into a warm crushing chest. I stopped fighting, realizing it was futile. I knew if I sat quietly, I would get a better idea of the right moment to strike out against him.

  “Jesus, Lydia wasn’t kidding.” He huffed his breaths.

  The water calmed as I stopped fighting to see the blurry images clear. I was being carried by a huge man—well boy—well, maybe man. I couldn’t guess his age. Maybe my age or a little older, but ageless at the same time.

  His voice was strong, like his body. His arms had to be the size of my thighs if not bigger. His face was rugged and handsome in a way I couldn’t describe. Not beautiful, but attractive in the way Cookie had been. He had an outdoorsy, backpacking look to him, like he was capable and handy. His huge hands gripped me tightly. I didn’t know what I could do against him. It was better to wait for the right opportunity. It would present itself—it always did. I scared myself, thinking like such a survivalist, but I was more sorry for myself than anything, remembering the horrors that had brought me to this place.

  He scrunched up his face, examining me disgustedly. “You want to die, do it somewhere else. Lydia has enough ghosts around here as it is.” His eyes were the color of green moss, pale almost. His skin was tanned but reddish from the cold water. He dripped water from his shaggy brown hair. He placed me down on the bench before I realized we were out of the water. The air was as cold as the lake had been.

  He turned and stormed away, taking long strides up the grass. I sat shivering on the bench, confused. He had saved me—a guy had saved me. He didn’t want anything. In fact, he seemed angry with me.

  I gazed up at the huge mansion, trembling and teeth chattering. I watched as Annabelle waved at me from one of the windows.

  I didn’t know what to make of it all. I didn’t know where to go. I wanted to go inside and warm up, but I didn’t know who the guy was. There was a ghost waving at me from the window and a barrier stopping me from leaving.

  It was a hot mess.

  “Lucas.”

  “What?” I turned, frozen and shivering, to find Lydia strolling toward me in gardening gloves, holding an empty flowerpot.

  “His name is Lucas. He’s different like you,” she explained, reading my thoughts again.

  “How do you do that? How do you know what I’m thinking?” I stood and started walking, clutching myself.

  “I’m psychic—sort of thought that was obvious. Anyway, dear, you need to go up to the house. I’m sure Annabelle has a hot bath poured for you.”

  “M-m-y hands are burning again.”

  “Yes, well I don’t think we have anyone here you can send back, dear. I would imagine most of us are safe from your abilities. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  Frozen, I trekked across the lawn to the back door of the house.

  Annabelle opened the door, smiling. “Why, Miss Ari, you look about as froze as a girl could get. Why you got to swim on a cold day like this one? I know by the look of the lake, it’s cold. I got your bath poured upstairs. Lucky Mr. Lucas saved you.”

  “Yeah, lucky.” I walked in the open door and into the floating towel Annabelle was holding up. I followed her upstairs as she nattered on about the bath and Lucas.

  Chapter 4

  Feeding time at the freak show

  Ari

  My reflection frightened me. I inspected the two inches of hair sticking up like a hedgehog and groaned. I angled my head back, eyeing the silver bull ring in my nose.

  “That be the nastiest thing I ever did see. Just nasty.”

  I glanced in the direction of the voice, suddenly aware Annabelle didn’t have a reflection. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t want it. The other me wanted it.”

  “Well, I’ll be downstairs fixing you some cocoa, now that’s ya clean.” She was gone before I could tell her where else she could go.

  Glancing back to my reflection, I scowled. Gingerly, I opened my towel and looked again at the ring in my right nipple. Memories suddenly flashed through my mind, making me close the towel quickly.

  I leaned in, to get a better look at the ring and barbells in my face. The bull ring in my nose bothered me the most, but when I tried to pry it apart it didn’t budge. I pulled until a thin red line of blood trickled down my face. It caught the steady stream of tears that leaked from my eyes and dripped into the sink.

  “Shit.” I gave up, defeated, and walked down the stairs, holding a Kleenex to my nose, cussing under my breath.

  “I can hear that, missy,” Lydia nagged from somewhere nearby.

  I sighed and went in the opposite direction of the voice, ending up in a sizeable room with large comfortable chairs. I sat, holding the tissues to my face and contemplated the essence of crap my life had become.

  “What happened there?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered. My skin crawled as Lucas came and knelt in front of me. He seemed not to realize he was in my personal space.

  He put a hand up, making my wince. He stopped. “I won’t hurt you.” He stated it like the notion was ridiculous. “Just let me see.”

  “It’s the nose ring.” I moved the tissue away. “I can’t ge
t it out. I tried pulling but it hurts.”

  “It’s not supposed to pull out.” He laughed. “You have to pull the whole thing apart. It’s a pressure system.” He stood up and left.

  “Weirdo.” I scoffed, not sure why he had said it and left me to ponder his odd words. Pressure system? How helpful was that?

  He came back into the sitting room with pliers in his hand.

  When he knelt in front of me again, I backed up on the oversized sofa. He smiled, but he was massive and unassuming; they were the worst in my experience. He was double my size and armed.

  The burning in my hands took over before I could control it and I reached for him. The heat filled my body, making me scream as it shot out of my hands and into his arms.

  A large tattoo of a black wolf on his arm was the last thing I saw before everything went fuzzy and the light dimmed.

  When I woke, warmth surrounded me, making me think I was back in the desert again and lying in the sun. I moaned, moving into the heat, but unlike the sun, the heat moved with me.

  I froze, flooded with bad memories that went along with the reality of waking up next to someone I didn’t know.

  “Ari, don’t panic. It’s okay, sweetie.”

  I opened my eyes to see Lydia’s face.

  My lip trembled. “I did it again—I sent Lucas back.” I started to sob, ignoring the warm body surrounding me.

  “No.” Lydia took my hand. “No, love, you can’t. Lucas can’t go anywhere. Honey, it’s okay.” She rubbed my arm with her warm hands.

  It took a second for me to realize the source of the warmth was Lucas. He was behind me, holding me. I tensed again, and sat up, noticing the antsy feeling had returned. I wanted to burst out of my skin and run in every direction at once. I took a deep breath, calming myself.

  “I didn’t hurt you?” I climbed off of him and moved away.

  “Oh, you did.” He laughed. “It hurts but it doesn’t work on me. You made me pass out. We sort of fell on the ground together.”

  Lydia smiled proudly. “Well actually, he wrapped himself around you before you fell on the ground so you wouldn’t get hurt.”