First Kiss: The Ghost Bird Series: #10 (The Academy Ghost Bird Series) (48 page)

I thought about the guys, but I wasn’t ready to talk to them yet. I needed to stop crying, or I’d scare them.

If I couldn’t have the boys, I didn’t want to be around anyone at all. I wanted to be the old Sang Sorenson. Being invisible and alone to get control of my emotions once again. I’d tell them I changed my mind. I didn’t want to. I’d blame it on not wanting to break the team and was willing to be ignorant forever just to stay with them.

The floor of the tent crinkled, making it difficult to be quiet on, but I managed to slip into my boots and get to the door flap without waking anyone. Unzipping took forever, and when I was outside, I zipped it only halfway back.

The night was a little cool, but the heater was on and they all had warm sleeping bags. I didn’t want anyone to follow me now. They wouldn’t understand. They would think something was wrong with them. I didn’t want the younger girls to see how much of a mess I was and lose their confidence.

I took a long route to walk away from the tent quickly, escaping to the road. From there, I walked quietly, hoping the exercise and brisk air would exhaust the seemingly unending waves of tears that flowed out of me. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself, so I avoided walking under the glow of any streetlights.

The chill cut through the soft long-sleeved T-shirt I wore, right through my skin, down into my bones.

I welcomed it. I wanted to be cold, to ease the feelings in my heart. I breathed in the cold air and scanned my surroundings, looking up at the sky, into the darkness.

Alone. For the first time all week, I didn’t have anyone around. I desired relief and expected it at first.

But the cold and being alone wasn’t helping. An overwhelming sense of dread about my team came over me. I was costly. I was creating problems for my team.

I was also second-guessing my own spot inside their team. They couldn’t afford me. Could any team afford me? Maybe even that was a problem.

Maybe Volto was right. Maybe going away was the better path. I didn’t have the same reasons, but I couldn’t help but think of Kota, and how he could possibly try to get back some favor points if he simply didn’t have me to worry about. The others had risked favors, just to kiss me.

With me gone, they could get those favors back.

I was halfway to a crossroads when I heard the sound of footsteps, possibly heading toward the latrines. I paused, listening, wondering who might be awake now. I had no idea what time it was, but I didn’t want to run into anyone.

With the help of the moonlight and a few of the streetlights, I found the footpath that weaved through the forest. I was pretty sure this was the one that led to the cabins, and eventually to the camper area, and then around to the boys’ tent.

I dashed into the path, willing to take the risk of being caught by the Academy council for being out late. It was fine to head to a latrine, wasn’t it? I could say I got turned around in the dark. Taylor had said as long as we were quiet, they didn’t mind.

Still, when I heard footsteps still behind me, I hurried, keeping my head down. I didn’t want to be caught out, just in case. Not like this. Not in the mess I was in.

When the main road was no longer visible, I paused, catching my breath. The shadows of evergreen trees had darkened my path, blocking the moonlight. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust a little, to even see the path ahead. I wondered if I wouldn’t be able to see once I got further in. If it got pitch black along the way...

The dirt path wove around trees, and at times blocked out the moonlight even more, making following it almost impossible. It came down to my feet, and moving slowly at times. I picked my way along the trail, thinking about tomorrow and what I was going to have to face.

Maybe I needed to simply go home, my old home, not Nathan’s house. My stepmother wasn’t there. Marie wouldn’t be happy, but the Academy couldn’t argue with me if I went back. I could transfer to a different school. The guys wouldn’t have to spend any more favors or money on me. I could handle it.

I turned the bend and ran into what at first I thought was a tree until I caught the scent of spring soap.

I was stunned, sure I was wrong, even as the scent lingered deep in my lungs, and the warm body in front of me leaned in.

I spoke through trembling lips. “Mr. Bla...”

“Not here,” he whispered. A hand closed around my wrist. I followed, letting him lead me away, through the trees and deeper into the woods.

The world was silent around us. I held his hand, my fingers nearly numb with cold but warmed quickly at his touch. I heard the swish of material, like a jacket, although I couldn’t see very well at all.

How he could see so well was beyond me.

We went a good ways into the shelter of trees before he stopped, releasing my wrist. He turned toward me, and in the quiet of the night, I felt those gray eyes boring into me, silently commanding me to tell him why I was out so late at night, alone. He would never approve of this or my reasons.

I wanted to explain, but as I stood breathing in his scent, I realized that even here, with him right in front of me, he was still a million miles away.

He’d dragged me this far because we could possibly get into trouble, right? Here I was, putting him at risk again, maybe at the cost of a favor, or even being kicked out.

My voice cracked so much that I couldn’t even say his name.

My head dipped and my hands lifted to cover my face. Hiding the tears that I couldn’t stop, even for him. How could I ever explain?

“Miss Sorenson,” he said quietly.

“I can’t do it,” I said, sobbing into my palms. “I can’t do this.”

“I’ve never known you to give up.”

I wanted to answer him. I didn’t have one to give. Instead, I let out all the tears I’d held back in the tent.

That’s when I sensed his hands, hovering over my shoulders. I felt the warmth radiating from his palms. He rarely touched me, and now he was willing, but he was like Kota and the others who needed to be shown he could.

In the darkness, my hands found the material of his windbreaker jacket. I buried my face into his chest, gripping the material. The feel of his body, just being against him, had me crying all over again. I felt so stupid.

His hands lowered to my shoulders then. His thumbs smoothed over my collarbones. When my crying didn’t ease, his palms ran down the outsides of my arms.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He knew this was more than just being homesick or being overtired from all the hard work. This was more than being singled out to join a group I was unfamiliar with. This was something much worse. But I was sobbing too hard to answer. “Miss Sorenson,” he said, his voice commanding, impossible to ignore.

“I can’t... I can’t stand it when they touch me,” I said, knowing I wasn’t making sense, but my voice cracked and my muddled brain couldn’t think of a better explanation.

“
Who
touched you?” the power in his voice grew stronger and his fingers clenched on my upper arms.

“The girls hug,” I said. “They hold hands. They grab my arm. They group hug and they hug me. I know it’s normal. I know I should be able...” Another sob broke through, but I took a deep breath and swallowed, wanting him to understand this part. “I’m trying. I thought I could...”

“What are you saying? They’re touching you inappropriately?”

“No,” I said quickly. I lifted my head, wiping away my tears but no matter how many times I swiped at my face, they still fell. “I just can’t do it. I don’t know why, but I panic every time. It’s so bad I want to pull away, even though I know I shouldn’t.”

His comforting hands on my arms disappeared instantly. “You mean anyone who touches you?”

“No,” I said, and my hands sought out his jacket again, gathering the material into my fingers, silently telling him he wasn’t who I was talking about.

My head dipped again into his chest, holding him close. I didn’t want him to go anywhere else. I couldn’t stop it from flowing out of my lips. “Not you. Not the guys. I want you to touch me. I always want it. Hugs. Kisses. Anything. It makes me happy. But with the girls... any girl, I think...”

“Any girl? Even Miss Newman?”

“Who?”

“Karen. Your friend at school. You didn’t know her last name?”

“No. I talk to her in gym class. Sometimes I see her at lunch but she never touches me.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I wanted to try. I thought I could get used to it. I thought just for the week... If I have to join a girl group...” My voice cracked again and the sobbing took over.

I wanted to tell him more, about the shower, about how I felt about the guys and him. I wanted to confess everything, but my exhausted and wrung out body shook uncontrollably and my words were murmurs against his coat.

His hands found me again, and this time, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I felt a cheek press to the top of my head. “Miss Sorenson,” he said, in a voice immensely softer than I’d ever heard from him before. “Are you telling me you’re afraid of girls? What happens when one of them tries to touch you?”

The shock of him hugging me overwhelmed my senses. I froze, even as I welcomed his embrace. Afraid he’d pull back, I kept still, pressing lightly back. I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I somehow I found the words.

“I worry they’ll hurt me. That they’ll touch me like Jade did. I know they won’t. I know...but I can’t help it. It’s every time they get close. I don’t want to offend them and tell them. I don’t want to...” I broke off because my thoughts went into twenty different directions at once.

Mr. Blackbourne’s arms around me tightened. “So if they wanted to put you into another girl group...”

“The girls I’m with are nice and they’re trying so hard, which just makes me feel worse. But I don’t think I could be in a girl group.”

Mr. Blackbourne’s breathing was suddenly the only thing I could hear through my sobs and the blood rushing through my ears. The warmth of his jacket and body against my nearly frozen one had me seeking out his warmth, his arms around me. In the dark, I knew it was Mr. Blackbourne but it was still easy to forget it was him, too.

Just as I began to still against him, Mr. Blackbourne released me, to my utter disappointment. He quickly captured one of my hands, tugging. “Hurry,” he said.

I followed close behind him, too distraught to question where we were going. He was going to let me go home. Maybe he’d drive me there himself. My life within the Academy was over.

It took me until we were at the door of a building before I realized we were at the cabins. My hand squeezed his, wanting to hold on to him. What was he doing?

Mr. Blackbourne twisted the handle, shoving the door open. He tugged me inside, but let go of my hand quickly, instead placing his palm on the small of my back.

The lighting was dim and close to the ground. When my eyes adjusted, I realized there were electric lights made to look like old oil lamps, placed strategically around the cabin to act like nightlights. There were eight sets of bunk beds inside against the outside walls, making it one long hallway with empty space in the middle.

There was a mix of older men and women inside, and they all sat up watching us.

Suddenly, everyone began moving at once: some got out of bed, others reached for robes and then joined them, approaching me.

If I could have melted through the floor, I would have. I stood with blurry eyes, embarrassed and I simply put all my faith in Mr. Blackbourne, that he knew what he was doing.

“What’s wrong?” a man asked. “Is she hurt?”

“Ask her,” Mr. Blackbourne said. His hand at the base of my back nudged me forward. “I found her sobbing alone in the woods.” He said nothing more, seeming to expect me to explain.

I glanced back at him, questioning why he was making me do this. He nudged me again, this time, warmly, standing beside me and holding a palm to my lower back. “Trust me,” he whispered in the softest tone I’d ever heard from him. “This is the last time you’ll ever have to say it again, I promise. Tell them everything you told me.”

I stiffened and found myself looking at the older women and men in the group, at the faces that were hard to recognize in the dark and with the tears still blurring my vision. My eyes lowered until I was looking at their feet, finding the floor easier to address than anyone else.

And I told them everything.

I was numb all over, simply repeating everything I’d told Mr. Blackbourne out in the woods. What did it matter now? I was a mess. He was having me tell them so he had a reason to take me home. I didn’t care anymore. I was humiliated.

When I choked out the last of what I could explain, I began sobbing again, hiding my face once more in my palms.

Moments later, when I had quieted to hiccups and stuttering breathing, I felt hands on mine. At first, I thought it was Mr. Blackbourne, but a moment later, I smelled flowers, too heady to be him. I looked up quickly, and without thought, I jerked myself away from the touch.

It was Mrs. Rose. She had begun to lean in for a hug but when I pulled back, she kept her arms down. Her eyes glistened and her face was full of empathy.

“I’m sorry,” I said. She was the last person I wanted to offend. “I...”

She waved her hand in the air, cutting off my answer. She turned halfway away from me toward the group, using sign language to address everyone. Her hands were fast, but I made it out. “How could we have missed this?”

This was it. They now knew for sure I wasn’t Academy material. My heart sank into my stomach.

“We know now,” a familiar, very gentle male voice said. I turned, spotting Dr. Roberts wearing pajama pants and a dark blue robe. He held a tight, smile, sharing sympathetic looks with me. He spoke softly. “The question is, what do we do about it?”

“I don’t know if now is a good time to make any decision,” someone else said.

“I agree,” someone else replied. “It’s late. Please don’t worry now. She can stay wherever she wants. If she needs to go, let her.”

Mrs. Rose waved her hand at me and began to sign, “You’re stronger than that. Please stay and talk to us tomorrow after some sleep. We can help. Remember what I told you?”