Red Handed (4 page)

“Obviously, you need more.” She walked away from me then.

Dejected, I tromped back to my bed and fell onto the mattress with a deep exhalation. The bed fit itself around my body, adjusting to my programmed comfort level. “Do a good deed,” I muttered, “and be punished for the rest of your life. Yeah, that's fair.”

Despite being cooped up and bored, the weekend passed quickly and Monday—doomsday—arrived all too soon.

The director of the “special bootcamp” finally called my mom. When the phone rang, I knew. Mom was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, so she used the phone in there. I was shaking as I silently tiptoed into the hallway to listen.

“…drug addict,” I heard her say. “She's willful and disobedient. She sneaks out, steals, and no telling what else.” Bitter laugh.

A pause as she listened to the reply.

“I can't control her anymore, and I've lost the will to try.”

Hearing her say that to someone else, something…broke me. Made me feel unwanted, unloved. Like a nuisance. She was abandoning me just as my dad had done. Only this time, with her, it was worse. It cut deeper.

Dad had packed his bags, stood in the doorway, and said good-bye without looking me in the eye. She, the woman who had hugged me, promised to always take care of me, and cried with me through the dark days that followed, knowing the pain I was in, was now doing the same.

“Cs, Ds, and Fs,” my mom said. She must have been asked for my grades. “I know they're bad, but she's a smart girl when she's not using and her grades were getting better.”

So why are you sending me away? Give me another chance
.

“Yes,” my mom said. “She's resourceful.”

Pause.

“Yes. She can be forceful.”

My brow wrinkled in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

“Why are you asking me these questions?” Mom demanded, parroting my thoughts. “What does any of this matter? She needs help with drug use, not a personality adjustment.”

A few minutes passed, my mom muttering “uh-huh” every other heartbeat of time. Finally she hung up and I slinked back to my room, waiting until the tears dried from my eyes and I wasn't shaking quite so badly before heading into the kitchen.

I didn't want her to know I'd overheard, so I didn't mention the phone call.

She didn't, either.

When she served breakfast, I accepted with a polite “thank you.” I didn't know what else to say to her. What
could
I say?

“Eat and go to school,” was her only response. She marched to the sink to wash the dishes in dry enzyme spray, keeping her back to me.

I blinked in surprise. Had she changed her mind about taking me to camp then? Or had they turned her down and didn't want to deal with me, either?

I didn't know how to make her understand that I'd changed. I wasn't the addict I used to be. I'm trying, I wanted to scream. More than that, I still wanted to find Ryan—and Allison, too—drag them in front of her and force them to explain what had really happened that night.

Not that
I
fully understood what had happened.

“I don't want you to be late,” Mom prompted.

“Are you going to drive me?”

“Not this time.”

“All right then.” Silence. “I guess this is good-bye.”

“Yep.”

“I love you,” I called as I headed out the door and to the bus stop.

She didn't say a word.

I paused outside, waiting for her to say
something
at least. She never did. I tried not to let that bother me on the way to school. Cars whizzed past me. I saw old crumbling homes, then new homes with high-tech, robotic security systems. My mom always looked at those houses longingly when we drove past. We'd lived in a similar neighborhood when my dad had been with us.

New Chicago High finally came into view. One of the newer buildings, it was silver, towering, and wide. Each window and door was equipped with automatic shade to prevent people from seeing inside, a metal detector, and a computer that logged the identity of everyone who entered or left.

Every school was the exact same. No colors except silver, no team name (they'd been deemed “derogatory”). There were sports teams, of course, but they were strictly for humans since certain aliens and their abilities were considered “unfair.”

There was a smattering of Arcadians that attended my school, the race known for their white hair, violet eyes, and psychic abilities. There were a few Terans, who were catlike (with fur, pointed ears, and scratchy tongues), and one Mec, a lanky thing that was all white, even its eyes.

I'd never really spent time with any of them. And now, more than ever, I didn't want to.

I entered Comp II, my first class of the day, experiencing a jolt of surprise when I spotted Jamie in back. She looked healthy, unscathed. Maneuvering around a too-slow student—who jumped out of the way so she wouldn't have to touch me, making me feel even lower—I quickened my step and slid into the chair directly across from Jamie's.

My backpack slapped against my side as I dropped it onto the floor.

“Hey,” Jamie said, smiling when she spied me. She looked beautiful, well rested, and was wearing a black corset top and black cobweb pants.

“Are you okay?” I didn't waste time with idle conversation.

She frowned in confusion. “Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?”

Why wouldn't she be?
Uh, because we were attacked by aliens. Because you drank enough Breathless to kill ten humans
. “Do you remember anything about Friday night?”

“Yeah,” she repeated. She laughed. “It was utterly—” Pause. She bit her bottom lip as she searched for the right word. “Amazing!”

O-kay. Not the word I would have chosen. “What about the Sybilins? They would have killed you if Ryan and Allison hadn't fought them off.”

For several seconds, Jamie didn't speak, just regarded me as if I needed to return to Chateau Insano for another round of therapy. Then her red glossed lips lifted in a slow smile. “I thought you were turning on us, but you flew that night, too, and hallucinated. God, it's so good to have you back.”

“Wait.” I held up my hand in a bid for silence. I could accept that she didn't recall the Sybilins or the ensuing battle. I knew what I had seen, I knew I hadn't done drugs, and it hadn't been a hallucination on my part. What I couldn't accept was everyone assuming I was using again. “I didn't use.”

Her smile widened. “Sure you didn't.”

I ground my teeth together. “How did you get home?”

Jamie's shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug, and she hooked several dark curls behind her ear. “Some asshole cop brought me home. He lectured me for flying the entire drive. Blah, blah, blah. I blacked out after a while and woke up yesterday morning in bed.”

That sounded familiar.

“My parents almost had a breakdown when I woke up, since the officer had told them I'd ‘abused Onadyn.'” She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Of course, someone must have spiked my drink because I would never do such a thing.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Mrs. Howard strode into the room, the door automatically closing behind her with a snap. “Good morning, class.” She was all business. A black tailored pant suit, hair slicked back from her face, no-nonsense tone. “Take out your computers and click to page one hundred and sixteen of your Comp II book.”

Several students groaned.

Jamie's computer already rested on top of her desk, so she punched a series of buttons. A blue square crystallized directly above the keyboard, dappled like water but thicker. Almost like jelly. Her fingers then keyed in the appropriate code and page number and the words materialized, small and black, perfectly legible.

I searched my backpack, but didn't see my computer. Dread filling me, I straightened. I must have left it at home.

“Phoenix Germaine, take out your book,” Mrs. Howard commanded. “We have a lot to cover today and not a lot of time to do it.”

I met her very stern stare, not allowing myself to flinch. “I don't have it. I'm sorry.”

Her lips thinned with displeasure. “That is unacceptable, Miss Germaine. Without your computer, you cannot take notes. Without taking notes, you will fail the next test and you, my dear, cannot afford to fail.”

Chairs skidded backward as everyone turned to look at me. Some were snickering, some were smirking. My cheeks flushed. Thankfully, a knock sounded at the door, saving me from having to utter a reply.

Mrs. Howard pressed a button on a remote, and the darkened screen in the center of the door cleared, revealing the face of Principal Edgars and—I couldn't make out who was with him, only the slash of black. Mrs. Howard pressed another button and the door slid open.

Edgars strode inside, flanked by a tall, well-muscled man I didn't recognize, as well as an equally tall redheaded female. They stopped in the center and pivoted toward the class. Oh, no. No, no, no. There was only one reason people like that would be in this school.

My heart drummed in my chest so hard I feared my ribs would crack.
Please don't say my na—

“Phoenix Germaine,” the principal said in his deep, raspy voice. He had plain mocha features, mocha-colored eyes, and they swept over the students until landing on me. “Gather your supplies and step into the hall.”

Once again everyone faced me. My mouth went dry, as if the Sybilins were here sucking out every ounce of moisture. I hadn't gotten out of camp, after all.

The two strangers didn't say a word, just eyed me up and down, inspecting me as if I were a house or car they were thinking about buying. I gulped. I couldn't believe my mom had really done it; I couldn't believe she was sending me away without saying good-bye.

Tears stung my eyes, but I brushed them away.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry
. I'd be strong. I'd be okay.

“What's going on?” Jamie whispered behind her hand.

How long until I saw her again? How long would I be forced to stay at camp for a crime I hadn't committed?

“Phoenix?” Jamie said, uncertain.

“My life is crumbling, that's what's happening.” I stood on shaky legs and hefted my backpack onto my shoulder.

“You won't need that,” the male stranger said, speaking for the first time since entering the room.

Why not? I wanted to ask, but didn't. I was afraid of the answer. Biting my lower lip, I dropped the pack to the ground.

“Mrs. Howard will take care of your belongings,” Edgars said.

I faced straight ahead, then allowed my feet to follow the path of my gaze. I didn't look left or right, didn't acknowledge the people staring at me, wondering. All too soon, I was standing in front of Edgars and the strangers. I'd fought the Sybilins and won; I wouldn't let this defeat me.

“She's being arrested again?” a student muttered behind me.

“Let's hope so,” someone answered.

Edgars nodded at me. There was pity in his dark eyes. “Good luck, kid.” He pivoted on his heel and stalked out of the room.

The strangers, however, waited for me. The man even motioned to the door with his chin.

I squared my shoulders. “If you wanted to see my ass, mister, you should have just said so.” I think his lips twitched, nearly spreading into a smile, but I didn't hang around to study him more closely. I sashayed into the hall as if I hadn't a care in the world.

I'd never been so miserable, but I wouldn't let them know how close I was to breaking down.

“To the front entrance,” he commanded, still behind me but closer than I'd realized. His voice was somehow familiar to me.

I didn't look back as I continued to walk, never slowing my pace. “Where's this
special
camp located, anyway?” That's what my mom had called it, a special camp for wayward teens. Ugh.

“Nowhere,” the man answered cryptically.

I snorted. “Hell?”

“Some would say so, yes.”

Oh, goody.

The hallways were deserted. That wasn't surprising. During class, rooms were put on lockdown. No one was allowed inside or out without a fingerprint scan and permission from the principal. “I don't belong at your camp, you know,” I said when we reached the glass doors that lead outside. They were shaded, so I couldn't see the parking lot.

“Maybe, maybe not. We'll soon find out.” In the next instant, he grabbed my upper arm and spun me around.

I didn't have time to protest. Didn't have time to curse or fight.

A cloth was shoved over my head, and the world around me went black. I was so startled, a moment passed before I realized what had happened. Then my heart kicked into gear, realization hit, and fury and fear pounded through me. “What are you doing? Let me go!”