by Aella Black
Woody glanced to where the guards assumed their positions, then swiped a few chess pieces and tucked them into his jumpsuit. “Like that,” he said.
I looked back at the guards, who hadn’t seemed to notice anything. “That’ll work,” I said, turning back to the boxes.
He fidgeted with the one in his hand, and then, clearing his throat, said, “I need to tell you something.”
I started putting some of the games away. “Yeah?”
Woody was silent for so long I thought maybe he’d forgotten he was supposed to tell me something. When he finally spoke, I wished he hadn’t. “I really, really like you, Phoebe. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met. If we do get out of this, I want to hang out with you more. I think maybe things wouldn’t be so bad with you around.”
Wait, what? I drew back, confused. And flattered. Definitely flattered. “Uh, okay,” I stammered, “thanks for telling me.”
Thanks for telling me? What a stupid thing to say when someone confessed their feelings for you. Then again, it’s not like I had experience with this kind of thing.
And when did this happen? I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t picked up on it before, but we’d only known each other, what, a couple of months? It took a lot more time than that to develop real feelings for someone. I should know.
Xander.
I didn’t know where he was or when I would see him again, but I couldn’t think about kissing him one night and then leading Woody on the next day.
“Look,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate you being honest with me. But I think we should focus on the chess tournament. It’s just not a good time to think about dating or anything.”
Of course, that hadn’t stopped me from thinking of Xander in that way. But Woody couldn’t possibly know that. Plus, I shouldn’t be thinking about any of that right now.
Avoiding my eyes, Woody closed the cabinet after all the games had been stored away. “Well, yeah. I get that.” Then his dark eyes met mine. “But, do you think after we’re out… I don’t know, maybe we’d have something?”
I really didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I didn’t want him to hold out hope for that either. Despite his constantly shifting moods, Woody was a friend and he deserved better than that.
“I really don’t, I’m sorry.”
Finished with our wood-identifying mission, I stood. He scrambled up next to me. “Why not?” he demanded, his brown eyes even darker.
Oh, boy.
Should I tell him his moods might have something to do with it? No, I might not have experience with this stuff, but I had a feeling that would only make his current mood worse. But you could never apologize too much, right?
“Sorry, Woody. I’m glad we’re in this together, and I-I think of you as a friend.”
His eyes narrowed. Uh-oh. Maybe I should have thought that one through before I said it. I was pretty sure I just friend-zoned him.
“Is it because you’ve fallen for the jock? I didn’t think you were into guys like that.”
Heat flared inside me. “You don’t know anything about me,” I said. “And frankly, I don’t know much about you either.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other,” he grumbled.
“And I’m looking forward to that… as friends.”
He scoffed. “So that’s it? I open up to you, and you stab me in the chest?” His voice was considerably louder, and I glanced around the immediate area. A few kids watching TV had apparently found something much more entertaining right here.
“I’m sorry, Woody,” I whispered.
“Save it.” He scowled at me. “You don’t care about any of us. You just want to get out.” Then he proceeded to stab me in the chest. “Too bad Xander won’t be joining us.”
That heat burned brighter, and I had to bite my lip to keep from yelling at him. Woody had always been moody, but now he was just being mean. “You stereotyped Xander from the start,” I said. “You never even tried to get to know him. There’s not one good reason for you to dislike him.”
“Yes, there is.” My eyebrows raised high on my forehead. This should be good. “If he hadn’t shown up, I’d have a chance with you.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d successfully avoided both middle and high school drama, and now I was dealing with it here? We didn’t have time for this nonsense.
Woody should have let it go. I was going to. But then he had to go and open his stupid, moody mouth. “I hope he doesn’t come back. If the SCC took care of him, maybe you’d change your mind and give me that chance.”
The heat flickered out, but with the last remaining embers, I stabbed back. “I guess you’ll never know.”
29
The “chess tournament” was tomorrow morning, and I was not ready. We were not ready.
The group discussed it over dinner, and we decided including Oscar might be our only chance. There were still too many unknowns, too much that could go wrong. And if it did, I didn’t even want to think of the consequences.
We’d taken a vote on it, and the decision to include Oscar won by a slim margin. Unsurprisingly, Cathy was completely in favor of it. We decided I would ask—her obvious feelings not helpful in this situation—and that I’d read the situation first before asking him. If there was the slightest inkling he would turn on us, we’d just have to do it ourselves.
During morning rec, I stared down the library doors, trying to summon the courage to step through. Courage was something I needed more of, especially if we were going to pull this off tomorrow. But with less than twenty-four hours until go-time, Xander was still nowhere in sight. I needed his confidence now more than ever.
Especially since the last time I was in the library, Wolf attacked and killed me. The thought made a shiver race down the back of my neck.
I looked behind me, where he and his gang played basketball. They weren’t paying any attention to me. Besides, Oscar should be inside. He would stop Wolf from hurting me, if for no other reason than it was his job. If not, then he definitely wasn’t part of Team Get-out-of-Dodge.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed opened the doors and stepped inside.
Oscar looked up from his latest read—another romance, judging by the cover. He frowned. “Phoenix. You know you’re not allowed to check out books.”
I made a face. “And why is that, exactly?”
They’d never said, only that I had to return the ones I had. And that my borrowing privileges had been rescinded.
I mean, I knew why, but I kind of wanted to hear him say it. Plus, it might pave the way to the conversation we needed to have.
Oscar sighed, putting down the bodice-ripper that evidently was way more important than talking to me. Was I that much of a bother?
I was already re-thinking our plans to ask him when he answered. “Since Luther got suspicious that you were looking for something… specific.”
Well, that answered that.
“Am I allowed to read in here?” I asked irritably.
He narrowed his eyes at me, then sniffed and picked up his book again. “Fine. But you can’t leave with anything.”
“Deal.”
With every shelf I passed, my heart rate picked up speed. I hated that this place that once gave me solace now left me with anxiety. I’d read a good number of books since arriving here and found inspiration in many of the novels’ heroes and heroines. I wished I could just soak up that feeling again and not have this sliver of fear every moment I was in here.
I thought back to before the incident with Wolf, when Cathy, Birdie, and I would cram in here and goof around with Oscar. He’d almost felt like a friend then. I’d obviously misjudged him, and once again, I wondered if even considering asking his help might be a fatal mistake.
I must have been staring off into space when I heard, “There a problem?”
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I said, “No, just looking.”
“Hard to see the titles if you�
�re not looking at them.”
“Maybe I also have super vision.”
“Whatever,” he muttered and went back to his book.
I took a deep breath and, my heart pounding in my ears, I stepped between the shelves. My gaze snagged on a familiar title, and I pulled it from the shelf. Running my fingers carefully over the cover, I felt myself calm significantly.
Though I hadn’t gotten any good ideas from Sherlock Holmes, I’d fallen completely in love with the way he cracked all of his cases. Hmm… Maybe instead of a climatologist like my father, I could be a forensic scientist.
Then a memory almost knocked me over the head.
I must have been eight or nine, because it was before I’d gotten sick. That meant it was before my mother took off. I’d tried for years to not let the suspicious timing of the two events hurt too badly, but it was a little hard to shake off when doctors had barely declared me cancer-free and my mom—who hadn’t been around much anyway—suddenly wasn’t around at all.
I supposed I should be grateful. She did, at least, give me some of her bone marrow before she left.
Before that, my mother worked some job high up in Kansas City Police Department. She was smart, I remembered that. Everyone thought so. Including my dad, which was why I guessed they worked—well, until they didn’t—since he was a brainiac too.
I wished I were that smart. Maybe then I could think of a fool-proof plan for us to get out of here.
I recalled him once taking me to the station to see her at work. She’d introduced us to the PD’s forensic detective, and he and my dad hit it off right away. Although I didn’t understand ninety-eight percent of what they talked about, I remembered thinking it all sounded so interesting.
Forensic scientists might not have been responsible for saving the world, but they were working toward the good of it. That was good enough for me. I’d had a lot of time to think of Xander’s question about what we would do if we weren’t here. Obviously a job like that wasn’t something I could do right now, but if I did make it out of here, and if I could go back to school, and then if somehow I could find a way to pay for college, then maybe I could help the world in my own way.
That was a whole lot of ifs, though.
When we were on the run, I wondered if going to school was even a possibility, let alone having time to read. It’d probably be a long while before I could settle down with a good book. Sighing, I replaced the volume back on the shelf.
“Sorry about the book ban,” Oscar grumbled from his chair.
Okay, that was a start. Enough daydreaming, it was time to test the waters.
I peeked around the shelves. Oscar was no longer engrossed in his book but was staring off into space. Approaching cautiously, I said, “Yeah, it sucks. I’m not sure exactly what Luther thought I would find. I mean, did I miss the how-to-break-out-of-jail section?” I tried laughing it off, but it sounded forced even to my own ears. When Oscar didn’t respond, I tried another tack. “I see you like romances.”
He grunted. “My sister writes them.”
“So you read them for her? Wow, what a good brother you are.” He looked at me sharply. And then, because I seemed to have developed a case of self-destructive verbal vomit, I continued. “Do you look out for her the way you do us? If so, I feel sorry she has you as a brother.”
I could have kicked myself. My bitterness was going to sink our ship before it even sailed. I knew I’d already sunk this boat when I heard Oscar snap his book closed. “Look, I’m sorry I have to do my job! I can’t be Mr. Nice Guy all the time.”
“Mr. Nice Guy? Is that what we’re calling it these days?” And the self-sabotage continues. “Because you’re not, you know. No one with a decent bone in their body would work at a job like this.”
His frown deepened. “You think I don’t care about the kids in my charge?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “If by care, you mean standing by and doing nothing while they torture us, then sure.”
His eyes flashed. “I think you should leave.”
“I think you’re right.” Before I get kicked out of here. Although, I needed to say something first.
“When you come to a hill or a bank, occupy the sunny side, with the slope on your right rear. Thus you will at once act for the benefit of your soldiers…”
Oscar looked visibly confused. “What’s that from?”
“Oh, just something I read somewhere.” Then I walked out of the library for the last time.
I’d barely taken a breath of fresh air when I heard Birdie calling out for me. “Phoenix!” She rushed over and pointed, “Look!”
My eyes followed her finger, and my nose scrunched. It was the table where we always sat. Playing a game were Tex, Cal, Rocky, Cathy, and—
There was a third person with them, one with brown curls and sparkling blue eyes.
Xander was back.
30
I practically ran to the table, and Xander rose, smiling. He opened his arms wide, and I didn’t hesitate for a second. Relief settled into my bones. “Where were you?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Solitary confinement.” I caught sight of Rocky smirking at us and instantly disentangled myself from Xander’s hug. I hoped my face would stay its usual pale color. “They just released me,” he told us. Then he looked around the table at those gathered before letting his gaze rest on me. “I missed you guys.”
“We missed you, too,” Birdie said. “We were all so worried.”
Tex flipped a chess piece in the air. “Thought you’d been sent to Lansing.”
“I thought it was worse than that,” Cal admitted, oblivious to just how untactful that statement truly was.
Cathy chimed in in her usual diplomatic fashion. “Glad we were all wrong.”
“Yeah, man, thought we’d never see you again,” Rocky added. Her and Cal made quite the pair. “Nice to know we were off base.”
Xander smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said genuinely. Then he lowered his voice and asked, “Chess still on?”
We all exchanged grins. “Oh, it’s on,” I said.
Birdie clapped her hands.
“Time to blow this popsicle stand,” Cal said, and we all laughed.
It felt good to breathe fully again in what felt like years. Xander’s reappearance was one-hundred percent responsible for that. I didn’t want to have to break the bad news about Oscar, but everyone needed to know. Embarrassed my big mouth had messed things up, I spoke quietly. “Guys—”
“Wait, where’s the Wood Man?” Xander looked around as if realizing someone from the team was missing.
Ugh.
I was oh-for-two in the past two days. Though I really didn’t think this one was my fault. Woody couldn’t have picked a worse time to declare his feelings for me—not that any time would have made my response any different. I didn’t like him that way, plain and simple. He was a friend—though, at the moment, I hoped that was still the case—and I had no intention of stringing him along. I’d been nice about it… well, until I wasn’t.
Glancing around The Quad, I finally spied him in front of the TV. Probably seeing what things would be like when we made our grand getaway. Smart, since things seemed to change every day outside of these walls.
I looked toward the doors to the outside and saw that they were closed due to the rain. That explained why it was so crowded in here. From here, I could see another news report about flooding, but the details were fuzzy from this distance.
Turning back to Xander, I was trying to figure out what—if anything—I should tell him about yesterday’s conversation when he spotted Woody. “What’s up with him?” he asked, gesturing in Woody’s direction.
I followed his gaze and saw that Woody was now staring back at us, a nasty glare on his face. He looked away when our eyes met and suddenly seemed overly engrossed in the news program.
“Not happy to see his cellmate back?” Xander mused.
“Nah, he’s always moody,”
Tex said with a wave of a hand. “He must have woken up on the wrong end of the bed today.”
That seemed about right. Woody did have volatile mood swings, so it’s possible he was just having a bad day. Telling the others that he’d confessing his feelings for me would only alienate him further if he were to find out. Since he was a big part of our plan tomorrow, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
My gaze shifted to the game cabinet, where I saw Wolf watching us with a scowl on his face. And by us, I meant Xander. Wolf clearly didn’t expect our team member to return, and I hoped Xander had learned his lesson. We couldn’t afford for him to let Wolf rile him up again.
Less than twenty-four hours. That was it.
That was all we had left before we tried to “blow this popsicle stand.”
By the afternoon, the rain had subsided enough that the doors to the yard were back open. I ran into Xander at the entrance to The Quad, and instead of beelining it to our usual table, he touched my arm and said, “I haven’t been outside for days.” He gave me one of his most disarming smiles. “Join me?”
Like I could say no. I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sure.”
We left the others to their various activities and headed toward the track. Walking together in companionable silence, I realized something for the very first time.
Xander wasn’t just a crush. He was also my friend.
Maybe he hadn’t been before we arrived here, but that was my fault, not his. I was the only who’d cut him out of my life when my dad and I moved away. We’d been friends before that—not close, but closer than we’d been in years—and there was no reason we couldn’t be friends again.
And spending time with a friend—even if they also happened to be a crush—was way less awkward. I finally felt myself truly relax around him, and it felt amazing.
Walking with a little more pep in my step, I said, “Your return has really boosted everyone’s spirits.” Especially mine.
He half-turned in my direction and grinned. It made it harder to think of him as a friend when he looked at me like that. “Boosted mine, too,” he said. “It sucked being locked away for so long with no morning runs, no rec time, no friends… no you.” Oh Lord, have mercy. Then, looking thoughtful, he added, “To be honest, I’m amazed they didn’t send me to Lansing.”