by Ruby Vincent
It couldn’t be true.
“B-but he was there,” I cried. “He was dead. I saw him. I saw him! He was real!”
“Wait for me,” a voice whispered in my ear.
“No.”
“It’s me. Don’t leave me.”
“No!” I tossed my head so hard I smacked into his chest. “I’m not crazy! He was there!”
“Mr. Manning,” Argyle hissed. “Lower your voice. The students are testing.”
Adam pulled me outside. The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Derek lower his head and return to his test.
Argyle spun on us, hands on hips. “Was this some kind of prank? What would possess you to make such a horrid false claim?”
I tried to speak, but nothing would come out. I felt cold despite pinpricks of sweat covering my body. It was a deep, all-consuming chill that crept through my blood like frost spread over a window.
“This wasn’t a prank,” I heard Adam say. “It was a test... and we failed.”
The truth of that settled in my bones. The Elite Network had tested me. They played us and Derek had been a part of it.
He tricked me.
Without a word, I pulled myself from Adam’s grasp and walked away.
Chapter Eight
I didn’t make it far, of course. Argyle caught up to me when I was halfway down the hall and made me and Adam go back to her office. I sat in complete silence while she told us tricked or not, we would not be allowed to take the placement test.
Derek and Cameron would be punished in the new school year with two months of detention and we would still be allowed to attend the academy. That was the best she could do and Miss Val could not sway her.
It’s over. Everything I came here to do and it was destroyed before I ever really started.
“Zeke?”
Adam’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. He stood at the foot of his bed, an open duffle bag before him. It was Monday. Time to leave.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going down to breakfast. You coming?”
I shook my head. “I can wait until I go home. Besides, I don’t want to see... them.”
“I can’t blame you.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“It’s not your fault. Really, I want to thank you for being a good friend. Even though it got you into this mess.”
“You were the good friend. A better friend than Derek Grayson deserved.” He came around and grasped my shoulder. “Despite everything, I’m glad we became friends and that I’ll see you in the fall. We’ll survive this place together.”
For the first time in over a day, a small smile spread across my lips. “Yes, we will.”
Adam left and I finally got up and pulled out my own bag. I couldn’t tell him that I wouldn’t be coming back, but at least we could leave things on a good note. And who knows, maybe we could still keep in touch while he was at Breakbattle and I was at Chesterfield High.
I was shoving my toiletries in my bag when a knock sounded at the door. “Adam?” I ran to pull it open. “Did you forget—”
Speech deserted me when our eyes met. For a few moments, Derek and I just stared at each other.
He took a step forward. “Can I come in?”
The question made me come alive. Anger welled up in my throat, threatening to strangle me. “No.”
I grabbed the doorframe and made to slam it. Derek leaped and caught it before it closed. “Wait, Zeke! I need to talk to you.”
I blinked. What did he say? Not stalker, not perv, not cousin-lover. He actually called me by my name.
It was that more than anything that made me pull open the door. “What is it?”
Derek pushed past me and entered the room. I turned as he found a spot on the carpet and faced me. “What happened was messed up,” he said, getting to the point.
“If you believe that, why did you do it?”
He sighed. “It’s been said all week, Manning. My dad is in the Elite Network and of course I knew. Every year they do a test of loyalty to make the new members prove they belong in the Network. I was ordered to go along with whatever Cameron had planned, but I didn’t know until a few nights before what he wanted me to do.”
“You shouldn’t have gone along with it! It was sick. Twisted.”
His expression remained neutral. “It was, but trust me, others have been put through worse. You have to show that no matter what happens, you’ll back your brothers.”
I balled my fists. “Is this why you came here? To defend your actions? Cameron’s?”
“No.”
“Because you can get out right now.”
“That’s not why I’m here. I came to say I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t have heard that right. “You’re... what?”
“I’m sorry, Zeke.” Derek closed the distance between us. “If I had a choice, I never would have done it. But I did and”—he clapped a hand on my shoulder—“you had my back. You and Moon. The Network might be pissed with you guys, but I’m hardly mad that you wouldn’t have let Cameron get away with killing me. You’re the kind of brother I’d want to have.”
“I am?” I whispered. I didn’t want it to, but somehow his words were melting the ice I forged around my soul.
“Yes. I don’t care if they have a problem with it, when the new semester starts, you sit with me.”
Derek released my shoulder and left. I stood there long after I heard the door click shut.
It took Adam coming back to rouse me. I kicked into gear, hurrying to pack the rest of my stuff and then scurry out of the dorms. Volunteers were waiting for us when we walked onto the front lawn reminiscent of the first day, but this time they carried envelopes.
One by one, students received their placement and then went to join their families with either whoops of glee or stony-faced silence that spoke volumes.
“Zeke Manning.” She placed the envelope in my outstretched hand. “I hope you got your desired class. Have a good rest of the summer.”
I didn’t open it right away. Climbing off the steps, I spotted my family and fell into Jordan’s hug.
She squealed as she hugged me tight enough to make me pop. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Mom bent and pressed a feather-light kiss to my forehead. “Your aunt is waiting at the restaurant. We’ll eat and you’ll tell us all about your week. I can’t wait to add your additions to the book.”
“Sounds good, Mom.”
Mom turned to leave while Jordan hooked an arm through mine. We let her get ahead of us so we could talk. “So, what happened? What class are you in?”
I handed her the envelope by way of answering. I knew before she gasped what the result was. “F?! You’re in the F Class? Why? How?”
“It’s a long story. I promise I’ll tell you everything later.”
“But this is awful. What about your plan? What about”—she twisted around to make sure no one was listening—“Derek Grayson. Did you get him to trust you?”
“Yes.” A smirk curled my lips, brought on by a wave of satisfaction that should have been dampened by my placement results. “He trusts me. In the end, I didn’t need to get into the Elite Class or the Network to get close to him. I’m not thrilled about being in the F Class, but none of that matters. It was always about him.”
“So you’re attending in the fall?”
“Oh yeah.” I peered over my shoulder, letting my smirk fall upon the grand academy. “Zeke Manning will be back.”
If you would like the read next book in the series, The Plan, click here!
The Plan
Don’t piss off the Elite Class.
That wasn’t in the rulebook, but it should have been. Landon, Michael, and Cole may have the faces of angels, but a soul turns black when it’s betrayed.
The Elites have sworn to take me down, but I can’t get much lower.
Or so I thought.
Breakbattle wants us to fight and the boys are happy to oblige.
> No one will help me. No one can. I either show I'm strong enough to rise, or I suffer at the bottom where I belong.
They'll try to break me. They may even succeed. But I can't leave. I can't reveal myself.
I became Zeke for one reason... and I'm not done yet.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ruby Vincent is a published author with many novels under her belt but now she's taking a fun foray into contemporary romance. She loves saucy heroines, bold alpha males, and weaving a tale where both get their happy ever after.
Copyright © 2019 by Ruby Vincent
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.