Charlie smacked the flash drive down on Shira’s desk.
“What’s this?” Shira looked but didn’t touch.
“My Alpha Academy application. The essay, the transcripts—everything I would have needed to get in on my own,” she said, the assertive words harder to pass than a kidney stone. “I hope you’ll see that I belong here and lift the conditions placed on my admission—namely the breakup with Darwin and the forced resignation of Bee Deery. ”
Charlie sat still, listening for the crack of thunder Shira was sure to rain down on her. But all she heard was her heart beating in her ears.
Shira tapped her long fingernails on the Lucite desk and then pushed the drive back to Charlie. “Rejected.”
“You’re not even going to look at it?” Charlie asked, stunned. She’d assumed Shira would at least be curious.
“I don’t have to. I’ve known you for fourteen years, lolly.”
“Then you should know I don’t want to be your spy.”
Shira calmly pushed her dark glasses up the bridge of her sharp nose. “Oh, my darling girl. Spy? That sounds so Disney. Allow me to suggest a more sophisticated moniker. Perhaps ABS: Alpha Behavior Surveillance.”
Charlie thought about the last time she’d made eggs for Darwin. They had been left alone in a villa in Tuscany with a fridge full of nothing but eggs and condiments. She’d burned the omelets to a sad, plasticky lump. She’d quickly covered them in ketchup and renamed the dish Eggs Marinara. No matter what it was called, it had still left a bad taste in her mouth.
“I can’t do it.”
Shira folded her arms across her chest and leaned backward. “If you’re half as smart as you claim, you should understand the unique benefits of this offer.”
Charlie’s eyebrow lift signaled that she had no clue what Shira was taking about.
“You’re in the unique position of being the only girl all but guaranteed to make it to the final two.”
“That’s a benefit? To be your spy until the real alpha is revealed?”
“ABS.”
“Fine, whatever you want to call it. But what’s the point of sticking around if I don’t even have a fair chance?” Charlie laughed bitterly as she realized there was no scenario—not now or ever—in which Shira would see Charlie as a true contender. She hated herself for ever having believed otherwise.
“Number two is still something to be proud of”—Shira lowered her voice—“for most people.” She looked over at the doorway, where Fiona hovered, just like Bee used to.
Shira pushed back from the desk and stood, smoothing down her flowing black dress. “Excuse me—I have to approve the new font for the Island Updates,” she said, following Fiona out the door. “The old one was so… common, don’tcha think?” She winked at Charlie, then slipped out.
Charlie squeezed her hands into angry red fists. She hated Shira more than the stomach flu. More than girls who called her Charlie Brown-nose. Even more than…
Charlie blinked. Dingo’s image was moving. He was slinking across his bedroom toward the life-sized portrait of his father. After a couple of beeps, the picture swung open and Dingo disappeared inside.
“Oh my God.” Charlie sat ramrod straight in her chair.
Like a match igniting off a lit candle, her brain cells sparked a brilliant idea.
In the final week before school opened, she had invented one last gem for her mother. With so many buildings and tunnels and so much technology to account for, Bee and Shira would have had to keep over a hundred keys with them at all times. So Charlie had created a gold skeleton key that overrode every security system on the island. Shira had had it in her hands just the other day…
If she could get it somehow and give it to the Jackie O’s, they could meet the boys in the tunnels, undetected. And they’d know that Charlie was on their side, even if she was the ABS. They’d be trusted friends in no time. Sisters in arms. The only flaw, aside from a life in prison should she get caught, was that she’d be helping Allie J and Darwin fall in love.
The bitter taste of half-digested Tim Tams coated her throat. That was the last thing she needed. But if she wanted to stay at the academy, she had to be an ABS. And she wanted to stay. Seeing Darwin with someone else was better than not seeing him at all.
Charlie sighed and looked around the office. Last time, the gold device had been on Shira’s desk. But not today. All she saw was the bookshelf, the picture frames, the black-and-white globe, the giant book about Shira’s life, the—wait, backtrack… the black-and-white globe!
If she’d learned anything from her time with Darwin, it was where Shira hid her keys.
Without another thought, she flicked the “pin” that unlocked the globe (Shira’s hometown of Adelaide, where she’d met her late husband). Sure enough, there was the spare key, blinking like a puppy at a pet store, begging her to take it home.
Quickly, she slid it into her skirt pocket and closed the globe just as the office door swung back open. She spun around, heart pounding.
“Font approved. Now, where were we?”
“I was just going,” Charlie blurted, inching toward the door.
“Not so fast.” Shira’s crispness stopped her short.
Charlie slowly turned on the heels of her clear gladiators, her pulse racing. “Yes?” She willed her voice not to shake.
“Do we have an agreement?” Shira blinked innocently.
“Oh yeah.” Charlie smiled in true relief. “I thought about it and you were right. ABS is a good offer for a girl like me.” She backed into the glass atrium hallway and forced herself to walk away slowly.
But the second she got outside, she broke into a run.
The night air smelled of orange citrus blossoms and hope. If Bee could have seen her now, she’d have marched Charlie back in and made her return the key. But Charlie didn’t care. Shira had taken so much from her; it was only fair she take something from Shira. And all she asked for in return were some friends.
And revenge.
20
ALPHA ISLAND
PINK SAND BEACH
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH
11:19 P.M.
Allie J: D, I’m here
Allie J: R u hiding?
Allie J: Super dark. Getting cold.
Allie J: Um, did u hear that? Are there wolves on the island?
Allie J: Heading back before I’m attacked.
Allie J: Hope they didn’t get you.
Allie J: Bye.
21
APHRODITE BEACH
EROS SCULPTURE GARDEN
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
11:19 A.M.
Allie followed the APS on her aPod toward the undisclosed location of today’s writing class. Despite the chirping birds and radiant sunshine, she felt like the walking dead, en route to her own funeral.
Texting alone in the dark the night before, surrounded by nocturnal beasts, while waiting for a boy crush who never showed had been more painful than a full-facial threading. Had Charlie stolen him back? Had he found someone new? Was he pulling away after the mortifying triangle poem incident? Maybe he’d discovered Trina’s art and was heading for the mainland to propose. Not that it mattered. The damage had been done. Allie’s heart was more tattered than the bottoms of her feet, her confidence reduced to the size of her kohl-mole.
“Keep west. The Eros Sculpture Garden will appear in approximately ninety-seven paces…” the British voice from her aPod instructed. “Five steps until you hit the beach…”
Her aching bare feet sighed with relief as they sank into the pink sand–covered path that led to the Eros Garden. Palm trees surrounded the walkway, and a soft breeze that smelled like coffee rustled Allie’s black hair.
“Allie J!” someone breathed on the back of her neck.
“Ahh!” Allie gasped. She turned to find Hannah standing behind her.
“Finally,” Hannah panted. “I’ve been calling your name. Who were you talking to?”
Allie felt
her cheeks redden. During times of extreme stress she sometimes talked to herself.
“Notice anything different?” Hannah struck a pose. It was more scarecrow than supermodel, and Allie had to laugh.
She tapped a Purell-thirsty finger against her lips. “Your skin doesn’t look as corpse-ish, your hair isn’t so witchy black, and you’re not spackled in goth makeup.” The only thing that looked the same was the sapphire stud that sparkled in Hannah’s left nostril. And with all of the changes, it looked borderline cool.
“Well, Keifer’s all about being real,” Hannah explained, continuing down the path. “Sooooo, why not go natural? You know, to honor the true essence of writing. And of course, the true essence of me.”
Envy stung Allie like a blast of deodorant on freshly shaved pits. If only she could strip away her disguise and honor her true essence. But what exactly was that? A talentless mall model with a knack for getting her heart broken? These days, she felt about as natural as a little blue packet of Equal.
Allie’s aPod blinged like she’d hit the jackpot. “Welcome to Eros Sculpture Garden!” the Brit said primly.
Tongue-shaped pools of water licked the shore, which was made of pink sand and studded with a dozen famous lovers carved in stone: Adam and Eve, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Cupid and Psyche, Krishna and Radha, Patrick Dempsey and his unfamous wife. The other students trickled onto the beach. Circling the statues, they reached out delicately and poked them with trepidation, like they just might come to life.
Seeing these lovers, side by side for all eternity, meant at least six relationships had stood the test of time. There was a time when Allie thought she’d be number seven. Not anymore.
White-winged doves drifted overhead. They cooed love haikus while butterfly couples rested on the rocky shoulders of timeless lovers, basking in the warmth of their union. Palm fronds tangled briefly every time a breeze blew, like secret sweethearts desperate to touch when no one’s looking.
Serious-leh? Was there anything more depressing than standing in a love garden with a twice-baked broken heart and a pretentious she-writer with coffee breath?
Um, no.
“Why would Shira create a love garden when she’s so against boys?” Allie asked, to avoid crying.
“You know what they say.” Hannah leaned closer. “Those who can’t do, teach.”
“Look!” Allie point-shouted, escaping Hannah’s java breath before her contacts fogged. Then she scampered toward the most alluring statue of all. Hunched over the water, it gazed at its own reflection with extreme intensity. Like her, he had the unfortunate fate of being single in a garden of love.
As she searched for an explanation plaque or anything that might explain his sorry relationship status, a hint of jasmine signaled that she was no longer alone.
“Captivating, isn’t it?” Keifer rubbed the statue’s back affectionately. Her choppy black bangs were pinned to the side of her face, allowing her deep red lipstick to take center stage.
“Narcissus was so vain that he fell in love with his own reflection and drowned.” She leveled her eyes at Allie. “What do you think about that?”
Uh, I know how the drowning part feels, she wanted to say. But instead she reached deep into her soul and said, “His parents must have been so upset.”
“I think it’s a metaphor for people who use love as a mirror. Instead of seeing the other person, they see themselves. Always themselves. And how that person reflects on them. Sad, isn’t it?” With that, Keifer turned on her heel and walked away without another word.
Confusing was more like it. Was Keifer trying to tell her something? It wasn’t like Allie was in love with herself. She hated her black hair. Besides, she was very much in like with Darwin. And in heartbreak with Fletcher. Plus she happened to be an excellent swimmer.
Just then Darwin appeared on the beach and the world went slo-mo. His caramel-colored waves fluttered around his head, each perfect strand glinting in the sunlight.
He strolled over to the Adam and Eve statues. His long, easy strides were effortless compared to Fletch’s well-rehearsed strut. With each step, sand billowed around him, as if every granule was jumping up to kiss his tanned legs. Charlie glanced up at him and smiled awkwardly. Darwin lowered his head but remained by the statues—and Charlie. Barefoot, their toes looked happy to see each other. Their mouths did not.
Allie felt like she was watching a chick flick on mute—the kind that left her in a mess of tears before the first act had even ended.
Keifer whistled shrilly, and everyone gathered around. Dry sand caked Allie’s wet feet and took shelter between her toes. Sand that other barefoot people had stood in. Ew! If she ever got Reneed, surgical foot scraping would be at the top of her to-do list.
“Join hands,” Keifer said, offering her palms to Bridgette and Tatiana.
Allie was stuck between Hannah and Yara; an a-hole and a C-cup. Thankfully, she had a little bit of Purell on standby.
Charlie turned a Kermity shade of green and reached for Darwin’s hand. He took it with a mix of longing and disgust, like a hungry vegetarian waiter serving a burger.
How was this happening again? Weren’t beautiful people supposed to be in the center of love triangles—not impaled by their sharp points?
“Everyone please close your eyes,” Keifer whispered.
Everyone did but Allie. Through her green lenses, she peered across the circle at Darwin. His expression was tight and strained, like he was holding in a poo. The possibility that he might not be enjoying Charlie’s hand warmed Allie’s icy insides. But not enough to melt them. He’d have to look her in the eye for that to happen.
“A good writer describes the world without platitudes…” Keifer began her morning lecture.
Allie searched her classmates through the blur of a scrunched eye. Was she the only who had no idea what platitudes meant?
“And a great writer describes it with emotions.” Keifer paused, allowing her words to penetrate her pupils’ champagne-colored blouses and fill their hearts with hope. “Today’s in-class assignment is to write about the euphoria of love as inspired by this garden. Grab your tablets, find a spot in the sand by your favorite statue, and begin.” Keifer picked up some sand and let it slip through her fingers as through an hourglass. “You have ten minutes.”
Everyone opened their eyes and raced to get started.
Allie quickly squeezed a squirt of Purell and rubbed vigorously. But for the first time ever, her hands didn’t want to sanitize—they wanted to write. She leaned against Narcissus’s quads and tried to ignore the fact that Darwin was ignoring her. Then she let herself go.
Only once did she let her eyeballs wander—Darwin had an adorable snarl on his lips and he tapped his tablet with purpose. Hannah twirled her nose ring thoughtfully. And the tip of Charlie’s tongue poked out of her mouth as she searched the cloudless sky for the perfect word.
“Time,” Keifer called, her fingers drained of sand.
Allie put down her tablet, feeling lighter—like the first time she’d shaved her legs.
She gazed out at the water, wondering if maybe Narcissus had had the right idea, falling in love with himself. She would never dump herself for Charlie. Or Trina.
“Allie J, this should be perfect for you,” Keifer’s voice cut through her daydream. “Your songs always end on a positive note. Why don’t you start us off today?”
The sun beat down on the back of her neck, but it was the seven sets of eyes on her that made her sweat. Darwin’s hazel irises bored into hers, and she couldn’t help but feel like he was urging her to steer clear of triangles.
Casting her own eyes down at her screen, she blocked everything, and everyone, out. She could do this.…
“Everything here is bright and cheery like a Crest Whitestrip laugh. You could snap a shot with your eyes closed and still score a postcard-perfect picture. Every inch of sand and every sculpted smile is here to make me feel my heart. And I do. But like theirs, m
ine has turned to stone.”
Allie looked up and grinned. She was ready to accept her “most improved” award.
Yara was biting her bottom lip so hard it had turned white. A plastic surgeon couldn’t have raised Hannah’s brows any higher. Charlie was staring at the sand, Darwin at the ocean.
Keifer cleared her throat. “Can you explain your piece to us? Where were you?”
Every time Keifer asked a question, Allie felt like she was under the bright lights of an interrogator. Back home, she and her teachers had a don’t ask, don’t answer relationship. Now, even her teeth were nervous. “I was… I was right here.”
A few of the girls giggled.
Keifer shook her head in obvious disappointment. “Allie J, I asked you to write about euphoric love and you gave me despair.”
Allie pretzeled her arms across her chest defensively. “You said to reach inside, and that’s what I found.”
Weren’t her stories supposed to be objective? Or was it subjective? Whatever. Wasn’t she allowed to write what she wanted?
“Allie J, my assignments are not suggestions.” Keifer tucked a strand of black hair behind her earringless ear. “I asked for a description of a warm, loving place and you drained it of life and turned it to rock.”
Are you kidding me? Allie wanted to scream. She’d once rolled down a runway in the Riverside Mall in a bikini and skates, but Keifer was the one who made her feel naked. But I’m trying! I’m finally trying! A tidal wave of anxiety crashed over her, and Allie couldn’t bear it any more. Throwing her tablet in the sand, she stood up and ran.
“Allie J!” Keifer called. “Stop!”
But Allie couldn’t. She bolted as fast as her bare feet would take her, as if she were trying to outrun herself, trying to shed her flawless skin and the expectations that came with it.
She reached the tree line and returned to the woods without looking back.
Alphas Page 14