by Stone, C. L.
Nathan was in under the spray, his head tilted back. He was rubbing his hands through his reddish brown hair. His back was to me, and with his arms flexed, his shoulders bunched, big and muscular. His biceps were large and defined: perfection.
He didn’t seem hurt. “What?” I called out so he could hear me over the water.
He jerked around, his blue eyes bulged out in surprise. He dropped his hands in front of himself even though the stone wall covered him from the waist down. “Sang! What are you doing?”
I blinked hard, trying to understand his surprise. Maybe it was because I had just woken up and had been thinking he had called me, but I was in such a panic that it took a minute for it to click. “Oh!” I said, blushing. My eyes darted to the stone wall, the one he was naked behind, but then I turned away, averting my eyes. “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you were calling for me.”
“Huh?” he asked in a strained voice. “What are you talking about?”
“Sang?” Kota’s voice drifted to us and he materialized in the hallway. “You’re finally up?”
“Kota,” Nathan said in a mock whine. He moved, until I could tell he had his hands on his hips. He wasn’t even bothering to cover himself, even if there was a wall between us. “Sang’s trying to look at my dick,” he teased.
My eyes flared and I gasped. “I am not!” I cried out. “I thought... I heard...I thought…Kota...” Not what I meant, but I was feeling too awkward to formulate an actual sentence as my brain reeled with embarrassment.
“Kota! She’s trying to look at your dick.”
“Ugh!” I groaned, throwing my hands up in the air. I stomped out into the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind me. Nathan’s laughing echoed as he continued his shower.
Kota chuckled and then cleared his throat. The crests of his cheeks were pink. “So. You were looking for me?”
My face was still hot. I paced the floor a bit, tempted to head back to bed, but instead I spun toward Kota. “I heard my name being called,” I said.
“I was trying to wake you up,” he said, walking around me into the kitchen. I followed him, the smell of breakfast making me realize I was hungry. There were three plates sitting on the table, each filled with eggs and toast. “Do you want coffee or juice?”
I sighed, glad he wasn’t going to tease me too much about what just happened. “Do we have coffee?” I asked and went to the table, standing by and looking at the plates. It occurred to me that it was Thanksgiving. It dawned on me that most of them would be at home with families getting ready for dinner. “Shouldn’t you be at your house?”
“Huh?” he asked, pulling a bottle of Starbucks Frappuccino from the fridge. “Should I be?”
“Don’t you go visit relatives or something? My dad usually just made a turkey on Thanksgiving, and that was pretty much it. My sister and I watched the parades. But I know other families make a bigger deal about it.”
“Do you like the parade?” he asked with a small smile, bringing the drink to the table, and then getting himself a cup of hot coffee.
I was about to shrug again when Nathan appeared from the hallway. He was wearing a red tank shirt, along with a clean pair of new jeans. He looked over the kitchen counter at the table, and the plates. “Kota, you made Sang-size food portions for both of us?”
Kota shrugged and added a bit of sugar to his coffee and mixed it in. “Lunch will be in a few hours. I thought you’d be hungry.”
“I will be,” Nathan said. “It’s good to eat a little bit, right? So you don’t overeat all day? It’s probably better for your metabolism.” He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Frappuccino. He looked at it and tilted his head. “Is this sugar-free?” he asked.
Kota looked up from his mug at the bottle Nathan held. I looked at my own, now noticing the blue band around the top when it was usually brown.
“North went to the store,” Kota said. He came around with his cup of coffee and picked up my bottle, examining it. “It’s not sugar-free, really. Just fake sugar and skim milk. Fewer calories.”
“Does he think I need fewer calories?” Nathan asked. He lifted the front of his shirt, revealing his stomach. He bent slightly forward to look at it, poking at his abs, and then tugging at the skin, pinching it between his thumb and finger. “He thinks I’m fat, doesn’t he?”
I smothered my giggling, only because he sounded serious. Nathan fat? Even the bit he pinched seemed to be more skin than anything else. His stomach was a ripple of muscle. His chest and arms flexed as he pinched.
“Don’t read so much into it,” Kota said, putting his coffee down next to my plate. He sat, giving his coffee another stir. “He probably thought it was healthier than the extra sugar kind. You know him.”
Nathan pouted a bit, giving him a funny face with his serious eyes as he considered his stomach and pinched in different places. He looked up at me questioningly.
I hesitated, shaking my head slightly, unsure what to say to him. He was being silly to me.
Nathan huffed. “Sang thinks I’m fat.”
Kota blew out an exasperated groan. “Nate, she didn’t even say anything.”
“She didn’t have to. She’s staring at all the fat.”
Kota took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose close to his eyes and sighing. “Nathan, what’s your body fat percentage?”
“Five hundred.”
“It’s probably closer to six—not six-hundred—just six,” he said, looking up at me and smiling while he put his glasses back on. “The same it was last time you measured. Which is still really low. Unless you’re in training, it should be fourteen percent, like mine.”
“If it was that low, why did North get the low calorie coffee?”
“Probably for Sang? She drinks them all the time.”
“Sang’s not fat! She’s six percent.”
I had no idea what to say to any of this. I ignored the coffee for now and just picked at my eggs.
Kota looked at me, his eyes sweeping down my body, making my face heat up. “If she were four percent, she’d be dead. She looks like she’s just over twenty percent, which is healthy because she’s a girl. Girls have a different health requirement than we do. She might actually be a bit under. North wouldn’t have gotten it for her to lose weight. It’s probably because, like I said, the normal stuff is filled with sugar and he was trying to cut it a little. He’d tell her to eat another piece of bacon with it.”
Nathan frowned and sat in the chair next to me. He picked up the bottle and looked at the ingredients. “Maybe I shouldn’t drink it at all. There’s still some carbs in there.” Still, he held onto it like he wanted it. “Do you think if I skipped the pumpkin pie, it’d be okay?”
Kota rolled his eyes. He leaned in to me and whispered in my ear. “Every year, he worries about overeating at Thanksgiving and losing all the progress he’s made in one night, so he complains about body fat and calories for the week. He still overstuffs himself at Thanksgiving and on leftovers, and then tries to diet for a day and then he’s back to normal. He’ll be fine.”
I chuckled a little at the revelation, looking at Nathan.
“I don’t suppose you want to go for a jog after breakfast?” he asked.
“Not sure if we have time,” Kota said. “The good news is, we don’t have to go to the homeless shelter across town this year, since it’s covered, but we do have to go to the diner.”
“Huh?” I asked, blinking at him.
Kota smiled and put a warm hand on my thigh. “Just eat your breakfast. If you don’t like the low-calorie coffee, I’ll go get you a new one.” He leaned over, kissed me on the top of the head and then released me to start on his own breakfast.
The movement was quick but the sudden surprise of him doing this in front of Nathan had me in a panic. Had he found out the plan? Was he aware of it at all?
I locked eyes with Nathan, who looked at me with a different expression now, something much more serious. He changed the
direction of his gaze to his food, and then quietly pushed the unopened coffee away from his plate. He ate the eggs without a word, and then had just one of the slices of his toast.
Did Nathan know the plan? And how much? I couldn’t remember if anyone had said, but I thought I recalled he was, but didn’t want to say anything to be sure. I was suddenly anxious to say something, anything to get this out in the open. At the same time, I couldn’t risk talking about the plan and not knowing if either of them were okay with it and wouldn’t dare try. I needed to wait until they said something to me, unless North could confirm with me that they know.
Kota’s small token of affection seemed to bother Nathan. It was different now. This wasn’t like before where I could sit in someone’s lap and no one flinched or gave such conflicted stares.
I focused on my eggs and drank the coffee, finishing quickly so I would have an excuse to go get dressed. I needed the reprieve from the sudden tension in the kitchen.
♥♥♥
I skipped trying to fake a shower entirely, hoping no one noticed. I’d had a bath the day before and hadn’t done much since except sleep.
I took a little time getting dressed. I’d put on another gray skirt—a little darker in color—with a pink T-shirt and a nice light jacket. Gabriel had left me more knee-length socks to wear with closed-toe shoes for the cold weather.
When I emerged, Kota was already ready, wearing tan slacks and a button up white shirt with a green tie. Nathan kept on his jeans, but wore a long-sleeved blue shirt with a red tie. Everything looked freshly pressed. I wondered if Kota had ironed their clothes.
“Will we need to bother with uniforms on Monday?” Nathan said as he looked over our clothes. “We skipped them while in suspension. Can’t we just wear normal clothes?”
Kota patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys and his wallet in place. “We’re going to go over the plan this weekend. Today, let’s try to forget about school.” He looked over my outfit. “Are you going to be warm in that?”
I hesitated. I did have on a jacket. We were just going to walk over, right?
Before I could say anything, Nathan stepped up beside me and put his arm around my neck. It was a casual move, something they did all the time. This time, though, it felt different. He held me closer, and his eyes were completely on Kota.
There was confusion in Kota’s eyes as he looked at Nathan and then at me.
“You don’t have to worry about her,” Nathan said. “We’re not going far. If she gets cold, I’ll bring her back to change.”
There was an awkward pause and I looked at the wall, as I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I change now so I might not have to come back? Or casually suggest I bring clothes if there might be a problem?
I also got the feeling there was something more to what they were debating. There really shouldn’t have been this much tension around what I was wearing.
“Right,” Kota said finally. “I guess.” He turned, opened the door, and held onto it for us.
I clenched my teeth, looking up. Kota was simply holding the door, the confusion gone from his face. Nathan urged me on. I wished one of the others was around to help relieve the tension.
Could I be mistaken? Was I just imagining it? Being paranoid? I wondered if my own feelings were putting off my judgement of their behavior.
Nathan closed up the house while Kota and I waited on the porch. Then, we walked together toward the road, and when I started to turn toward Kota’s house, Kota redirected me.
Surprised, I followed, realizing we were heading to the diner. Nathan walked to my left, Kota on my right. I stayed quiet, remembering Kota’d mentioned the diner, but I wondered why we got so dressed up if we were heading over to help out.
I don’t know why I hadn’t thought to ask what Thanksgiving was like for the boys. I just assumed everyone had their own family traditions. In my mind, I figured if Nathan did anything special, it was probably to go to Kota’s house, or possibly with one of the others. Nathan and I were pretty much the only ones without someone for Thanksgiving.
I realized the diner must have changed things for them. I hoped it wouldn’t be too busy so we could relax a bit. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the holiday?
We rounded the bend in the road and the diner came into view. The lot was packed with cars. The front porch had a line going out to the parking lot.
I slowed, suddenly uncertain about heading into such a crowded area.
Kota stopped, and when he did, Nathan did as well. Kota looked back at me with a small smile. “Something wrong?”
“What are all those people doing here on a holiday?” I asked, my voice scratchy with panic. “It’s so busy. Are you sure we should go? What if Mr. McCoy…or Mr. Hendricks is there?”
Kota opened his mouth to speak and then looked at Nathan, perplexed. “Did we not tell her?”
Nathan shrugged and then started to laugh, rubbing a palm over the back of his neck. “I guess we didn’t. I just assumed you did.”
Kota broke into a big smile, seeming to immediately break the tension between them. “They won’t be here. If they swing by, they’ll realize they’ve stopped in at a bad time. On Thanksgiving, we usually go down to the homeless shelter and pass out food. Funny enough, it actually gets overcrowded with volunteers down there at this time of year. A lot of the college students take it over.”
“So Uncle thought up a new tradition for us,” Nathan said. He waved toward the lines of people waiting to get inside the building. This time when I looked, a group of teenagers—about our age—left together with armloads of cardboard boxes. From the way they carried the boxes, they appeared to be full and heavy. They piled each box carefully into the back of an SUV. Once the boxes were secure, they talked briefly to each other, before they split up—half going to the SUV and the rest into another car—and drove away.
Kota put his arm around me, pointing to the SUV driving away. “See that?” he asked. “Remember the food you made all week?”
“Yeah,” I said, getting where this was going, yet wanting him to tell me.
“It’s not just the homeless that are hungry,” he said. “They deliver these to the poorer parts of the city, areas we manage. It can really help out.”
“We manage?” I asked.
Kota cringed. “Not sure if I was supposed to tell you.”
Nathan stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the collection of people standing in line. “She’ll be finding out sooner or later.”
Kota’s eyes drifted to the crowd, and then back at me. With a fingertip, he shifted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “The Academy,” he said simply.
My heart fluttered at the name. I’d been getting acquainted with the organization, yet still was surprised when I learned a new part of what they did. There had been hints before, but seeing these people taking food from the diner away, forced me to realize how much bigger it was than I’d previously thought. “The Academy manages parts of the city?”
“Entire neighborhoods,” Kota said. “Poorer sections. But not like slum-lords; we put good people in secure homes. When neighborhoods are safe, the children get good grades, better themselves, and there’s less crime in general. Once they become a true community, they require less management. Just the occasional helping hand can be enough. We have an application process that’s a little different.”
“There’s lots of good people that have important, but low paying jobs,” Nathan said. “There’s no reason neighborhoods they live in shouldn’t be as safe as one like ours.”
I remembered how, not long ago, we had helped some children who were living in an abandoned store. I wondered if they ended up in one of these neighborhoods. “So we donate food around Thanksgiving?” I asked.
Kota laughed. “We sell the food to teams, and then they deliver them to different neighborhoods.”
Sell? They ask the individual teams to pay for the boxes they take? “What? They don’t just donate t
he food?”
“The teams buy the food,” he said. “It’s a genius idea.”
“The money goes into a pool,” Nathan said. “Each team collects the money and pays for so many boxes. Then the money gets put into a charity pool and gets dispersed. It’s like a double giving. There’s some accounting reason they do it this way; Mr. Blackbourne helped put it together.”
Donations and giving food away. I turned again toward the diner, curiously studying the people who were waiting, and those who emerged from the diner with boxes. So this meant the majority of the Academy was here? Was that safe? If it was supposed to be so secret, how could they be so open like this?
Was the Academy such a secret, or only as secret as they led people to believe?
As we drew closer, I started to study faces. Some were older, around the age of Dr. Roberts, some our age, and a few a little younger but with an older adult around, directing them. The majority were in-between, adult men and women standing together. I wondered which ones belonged to what teams. They all seemed friendly and talkative.
It worried me that they were so exposed, when Volto or Mr. Hendricks could be nearby. But what did it really look like? Anyone coming by who perhaps didn’t know about the Academy for what it really was would just assume it was just a busy diner, or even if they approached and asked, it would look like an organized charity event. The fact that it was run by the Academy didn’t seem to matter. It wasn’t like they were doing anything illegal.
I stayed close to the boys as we headed toward the fray. I was nervous about bumping into these Academy people when I was still an outsider. I brushed my hand down over the material of the skirt, wondering if I should have worn something more formal, or should have done my hair better than the usual twist in a clip.
It was Nathan who drew my hand away from my body and held it in his. After a quiet, serious look at me, he squeezed my hand.
When Kota pulled away to open the back door of the diner, Nathan leaned in, and whispered, “You’re beautiful. Don’t worry.”