“Well as I said, your friend or someone in his family has made some very powerful enemies. If they try to fight the assessment placement, there’s a good chance they’ll fail and his sister will pay the price for their efforts.” His voice was soft and somber. I could tell he didn’t enjoy telling me this. “I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is with some fast-trackers.”
“But I’m a fast-tracker now. Maybe I can help Byron?” I asked hopefully.
Avery let out a long, exasperated sigh.
“Maybe one day.
But not yet.
You need to choose your career wisely, complete your training, and establish yourself. Then when you have some power, and if your friend still needs it, you’ll be able to help him.” His tone was kind, but a bit patronizing.
I said a meek, “Okay,” and walked the rest of the way home in silence.
I intentionally said goodnight to Avery at the main door to the college. I didn’t want him coming upstairs and getting any ideas or trying anything.
As I headed towards my room I felt the heavy ache that had permanently settled on my chest lift a little. It wasn’t much, but Avery had given me hope. I had a new sense of purpose and determination. I would never forget Byron like he had asked me to, but I wouldn’t mourn or cry over him any longer either. Instead all my energies would be focused on completing my training and gaining as much power as I could so that, one day, I would be able to give him all the help he needed.
Fortunately, I remembered the garbage bag before I entered my apartment. I pushed the door open carefully so as not to rip the bag. I was so glad that I did. When I
untaped
the bag and peeked into it, I found it filled with bright pink powder. Avery somehow had known about it. So I knew it couldn’t have been the other girls. It must have been fast-trackers
pranking
the
newbies
. I carefully sealed the bag and tossed it down the garbage chute.
I was exhausted, but before going to bed I decided to unpack the small carry-on bag I had brought with me. I covered my nightstand with the pictures of my family and friends. Most of my other mementos were already neatly packed in a shoebox which I slipped under my bed. The only other things in my bag were Byron’s dried rose and the
LifeFire
coals. I placed the small black saucer of coals on the nightstand. Then I carefully used the ribbon tied around the rose to hang it from my bed’s canopy, right over my pillow. Feeling a bit more like everything was in its place, I drifted off to sleep and dreamt of the day Byron and I would be reunited.
Chapter 8
I should have been tired the next morning; it had been well past midnight by the time I had gotten back. But it was also the first night in days that I had enjoyed a good night’s sleep. And now that I had a plan, I felt energized. I eagerly got dressed and headed down to breakfast.
Despite Avery’s warning that being friends with the other girls would only hold me back, I decided to attempt to get along with them. After all, today was a brand new day. Maybe some of the girls had gotten over Mrs.
Glabough’s
favoritism of me.
I stopped short the moment I caught sight of the rest of the girls and suppressed a laugh. Their skin, their hair, and their clothes were all stained bright pink. Then, once the shock wore off, I felt bad for them. Pranks were one thing, but Mrs.
Glabough
would be furious when she found out that all the time and credits she had spent on hair and clothes had been ruined. I hated the idea of the girls getting in trouble for something they didn’t do.
Vera pushed a previously blond strand away from her face. “Hey, why aren’t you pink like the rest of us?” Vera snarled as she stood up and got right in my face. Did she honestly think she could intimidate me? Over her shoulder I saw the rest of the girls were all glaring at me with hateful looks on their faces.
“I guess it’s because I’m not in the habit of dyeing myself,” I chuckled as I pushed Vera away. All my sympathy instantaneously vanished.
“You damn well know we didn’t do this to ourselves!” Vera screamed and stepped back into my face.
“Enough!” I hollered back. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I pushed her down into a seat. She looked ready to fight me back, but her bony butt didn’t frighten me. My big mouth had landed me in plenty of scrapes growing up. So, I knew that I could easily take her.
Staring Vera down, I loudly announced to the whole group, “Look, the five of you were all smug and satisfied with yourselves when you found out I had to live on the same floor as Mrs.
Glabough
. Obviously there are some advantages to living on the ninth floor that none of you considered.” Again I was surprised by how easily my lie rolled off my tongue, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that I was just trying to protect Avery.
“The only advantage is that you did it,” Myra suddenly chimed in.
I rolled my eyes at her. “So what exactly do you think I did? Smuggle pink dye from home and then sneak into everyone’s rooms before anyone woke up this morning?” Though I meant to sound like I found the idea funny, I sounded more upset and defensive.
“No, you did it last night before you went to bed. Nola was still awake and heard it being blown in through the door.” Now Myra hopped up and down. She pointed at Nola, who bounced her head in agreement.
“Okay. So, at exactly what time did all this happen, Nola?” I asked, doing my best to sound nice and calm.
“It was ten thirty. I had just looked at my clock and realized I needed to get to bed,” Nola squeaked, loud enough to hurt my ears.
“Well, right there is a huge hole in your theory. I didn’t get home last night until after midnight.”
“Ha!” Vera shouted. “You can’t
seriously
expect us to believe that,” she scoffed back at me. “What, were you wandering through the garden the whole time like you were supposedly during dinner? We all know you were just hiding and crying your eyes out because you have no friends.” Obviously thinking
herself
triumphant, a smug smile spread across Vera’s face.
I considered telling them where I was and ending the drama, but I doubted they’d believe me. Plus, I was seriously pissed off now. I was tired of being made into the bad guy when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I didn’t ask Mrs.
Glabough
to favor me, and I didn’t actually know about the prank ahead of time. So instead, I just snapped, “Forget it. I’m not wasting any more of my time or energy on you. If you really think I did it, you can bring the matter to Mrs.
Glabough
.”
I turned and walked away from them. I filled a plate with breakfast, and headed back to my room. On the way out I could hear the girls debating whether or not I’d get demoted just one level or more for my punishment.
While I ate, I used my new tablet to check my income credit balance. As I had hoped, my weekly allowance had already been allotted. It was more than both my parents earned in a week. I took my time making some purchases.
First I ordered several huge red clay pots with attached casters, ample amounts of soil, fertilizer, pruning shears, and some Root-it plant hormone. Now I had the sun and the space, so I decided to grow my own rose garden.
Next I purchased a large crystal vase and several tiny ones just big enough to hold a single blossom. I still planned to go to the gardens and gather roses to fill the inside of my apartment. It would be a while until my rosebushes were large enough to support clippings.
Finally I purchased a combination light fixture and security camera. It was a safe bet that the girls would try to retaliate when they found out I wasn’t getting demoted. Unlike them, I would make sure I had solid proof before throwing around any accusations. To be safe I paid extra for same day delivery and installation.
I shot a quick note to Avery and headed out the door, only to return a moment later. I grabbed the duct tape and taped a fresh bag by my door before heading down to the second floor for class with Mrs.
Glabough
. As I expected the entire group of girls were already there and had tattled away to Mrs.
Glabough
.
“Good morning,” I greeted everyone in my most pleasant and innocent sounding tone. The girls immediately returned it with irritated expressions.
“Miss
Zandria
. I’m sure you’ve already taken notice of your classmates’ unusual color. They’ve just given me the most disturbing news that you’re the cause of it and have already admitted to it.” For the briefest moment, Mrs.
Glabough’s
stern look wavered and a smile almost crept out. Goose bumps rose up on my arms; her smile scared me much more than her stern look ever could.
I told myself that real fast-trackers don’t get intimidated and did my best to appear unfazed. “Well I guess that
could
be true if stating that I didn’t get back here until after midnight,
after
the vandalism occurred, counts as an admission.” I kept my innocent tone and gave the group a concerned look as if I truly feared for their sanity.
“That’s an outright lie,” Vera shouted, stamping her foot. “Where could she possibly have been at that time of night?”
“
Zandria
, can you tell me where you were?” Mrs.
Glabough
asked. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in her eye.
“Certainly.
I was at Club Night with several of my fellow classmates.” I slipped down casually into a seat, as if that settled everything.
“
Oh
my gosh
! You have to be the world’s
worst
liar ever. You already know none of us are about to vouch for your sorry butt. Besides, do you really think that anyone is going to believe there’s a club with a stupid name like
that
?” Myra sneered. She copied Vera’s foot-stomping.
I grabbed my tablet and quickly pulled up the club’s information. “The name’s meant to be campy. Of course you’d know that if you’d ever been there.” I held the screen out in front of Myra before handing the tablet over to Mrs.
Glabough
.
Vera sneered. “Oh big deal, she knows how to look up information on a tablet. That doesn’t prove anything.” Another one of her foot stomps emphasized her feelings.
“Vera, you do realize that only toddlers stamp their feet don’t you? And by
my classmates
, I don’t mean any of you. I mean
real
fast-trackers.” There was only contempt in my voice now.
“Like who?” Myra grumbled.
Simultaneously Vera argued, “She’s just
gonna
make up names or use names she looked up.”
“I’d be a complete and utter fool to do that. It would take barely any effort on Mrs.
Glabough’s
part to prove I was lying. But I’m not, and I really am quite tired of all your wild accusations, so I suggest before you make bigger fools of yourselves, you sit down and let Mrs.
Glabough
get back to teaching.” I straightened myself in my seat and folded my hands neatly on the desk in front of me and then looked up at Mrs.
Glabough
. “If you require a name to verify my alibi, Mrs.
Glabough
, I’ll provide it.” I just hoped she didn’t make me. I wasn’t sure how Avery would react if I had to use his name.
“Thank you for helping me with an important lesson, Miss
Zandria
,” Mrs.
Glabough
said as she motioned for everyone to sit down. “In the future I would advise everyone to be very careful
who
they fling accusations at; the next person might not be so forgiving.” The corners of her lips had curled up to form a malicious smile.
Vera muttered something unrepeatable under her breath and the other girls made faces at me. I couldn’t help but enjoy the smug satisfaction I felt.
“The pink coloring is a prank that is pulled every year. It’s a powdered form of disappearing ink and should be gone by tomorrow morning,” Mrs.
Glabough
explained while staring down each of the girls in turn.
The morning dragged by slowly as Mrs.
Glabough
explained the intricate details of fast-tracker etiquette. Most of it was just common sense, so soon the rest of the girls were in virtual comas, not paying attention to anything Mrs.
Glabough
said. I, however, gave her my rapt attention. I realized just what a disadvantage I was at not having grown up a fast-tracker. The smallest detail could prove invaluable in establishing
myself
and gaining power as a fast-tracker.
I was relieved when lunchtime finally arrived. It was more draining than I realized to wade through monotonous information in hopes of finding a helpful tidbit. But I was confident it had paid off. I don’t think any of the other girls even noticed when Mrs.
Glabough
mentioned it. But the college had a valuable tool that I doubted could be found anywhere else. In the school’s personal library there was an in-house database with information on each and every fast-tracker that had ever attended the college. And it wasn’t limited to just their college years: it tracked their progress through their entire careers. I wanted to skip lunch to check out the database, but I didn’t want to give the girls the satisfaction of thinking they had scared me off.