Authors: Lisi Harrison
Behind her Lucite, Australia-shaped desk, five new portraits of her sons were displayed on the floating shelf. Darwin’s brown
locks were standing up like he’d just run his fingers through them. She stared at his face, his freckle, and his hazel eyes
without inhibition, like he was art hung for her to admire. There were no traces of guilt, longing, or pain anywhere inside
her. Just appreciation. For the first time in days, just appreciation. He was perfect.
Suddenly Darwin blinked, and Charlie gasped. She waved just in case the live feed went both ways, but Darwin didn’t respond.
“I know, and I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Shira said into her Bluetooth, sounding bored.
Next to Darwin’s frame, Dingo was slouched over a notebook, undoubtedly planning his next elaborate prank. Taz was swinging
from a ceiling fan. Sydney was drying his eyes on the sleeve of his blazer. And Melbourne was completely still, probably working
on his mannequin-modeling poses.
“You are at the top of my list should the ban on outside influences ever lift, okay? Love to Jay. G’day.” Shira pressed a
recessed button on her Lucite desk and the call was done.
“Celebrities. They’re more beastly than Komodo dragons.” Shira swiveled toward her guest. “Tim Tam?” She gestured to the tray
of imported Australian cookies.
Charlie popped one in her mouth and luxuriated in their melty chocolate goodness. Shira took a cookie as well, and they chewed
in comfortable silence. For a second, Charlie forgot all about their recent drama—or trauma, rather—and basked in the joy
of sharing a delicious snack with a woman she’d known her entire life. It was nice to just sit and—
wait a minute!
Charlie swallowed hard, then pushed the plate aside. This wasn’t companionship. It was Stockholm syndrome; a condition where
kidnapping victims BFFed their captors. It seemed highly improbable that Charlie could find pleasure in the presence of this
particular tormentor. But in her vulnerable state—no friends, no boyfriend, no mother, no sleep, Tim Tams—she did. And so
she reminded herself that Shira’s small kindness wasn’t kindness at all—just an extravagance to reinforce good behavior.
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.
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.
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.