Shinobi (A Katana Novel) (3 page)

4

A
ren’t you so excited about college?” The girl standing in front of me pulled a strand of long brown hair over her shoulder and twisted it around her finger. I’d spent the
last five minutes trying to remember her name and kept coming up blank. I thought it started with an L—Linda? Laura?

“I’m going to Michigan State,” she continued. “I cannot
wait
! I think I want to major in political science, or maybe marketing.” She smiled expectantly, as if waiting for my approval on her life choices.

Okay then. I’d play along if it made her go away.

I forced a smile to my lips. “That’s great. There’s, uh,
a lot of good career opportunities in those fields.” I had no idea if that was true. My eyes darted to the clock on the wall. How much longer could I keep this conversation up without revealing I had no idea what her name was? We took history together last year, but that was the extent of our relationship. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she’d shown up at my graduation party. But after glancing around the room, I realized there were quite a few people here I didn’t know.

Huh.
Maybe I wasn’t the social leper Carly, Quentin’s
twin
sister, always insisted I was. But the more likely answer
was they’d come because Debbie, my mom, had sprung for catering, giving me the only party with a taco bar.

“Rileigh?”

When I looked back at my former classmate, her eyebrows were raised, like she was waiting for the answer to a question.
Crap.
I tried pulling my smile wider. “I’m sorry. Today’s been so exciting I just can’t seem to stop my head from spinning. What was your question?”

She waved a hand in the air. “Trust me, I understand. I only asked where you’re going to go to school.”

My cheeks twitched, an ache building along my jaw from the strain of keeping the smile in place. “Oh, I’m staying local.”

Her smile melted. “You’re staying in St. Louis?
Why
?”

God, I was so tired of that question—the same one Debbie asked me nearly every day. Before my mom became a talent agent, she’d spent her teen years as a model traveling the globe. She loved to lecture me about how important she thought it was for people to travel before they settled down. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the option to go away. I’d received acceptance letters from schools on both coasts. A year ago, I would have jumped at the chance to embark on a new adventure across the country. Exploring the globe was something Yoshido and I once talked about doing a lifetime ago—but we’d never had the chance. Now it didn’t look like we’d have one in this life either.

A lump formed in my throat, and I struggled to swallow it down. Maybe it was stupid to stay for a guy who might never remember me—remember
us
. But I couldn’t give up on him … not yet. I didn’t expect anyone to understand, so I’d found the best explanation was the shortest. “The college I’m going to has a really great criminal justice program—”

She made a startled sound. “You want to be a cop?”

I didn’t know what I wanted. But since I was actively involved in the secret government agency known as the Network, it was the only thing that made sense. “Um, something like that … ”

Her mouth dropped in horror. “But you’re a
girl.
”

“Last time I checked.” I looked over my shoulder and, as luck would have it, Q glanced up from the taco bar across the room.
Help me
, I mouthed before turning around, the fake smile firmly in place.

“That’s crazy, Rileigh. You’re so small. Do you really think you’d stand a chance if some guy attacked you? You’d die!”

This time I didn’t bother to stop the smile from sliding off my face. “Gender and size have nothing to do with a person’s ability to fight. A warrior’s strength lies within the heart,” I added, quoting my past-life mentor, Lord Toyotomi. “Don’t you remember what happened to me last summer when I was attacked by those muggers in the mall parking lot?” I would have been surprised if she didn’t. The incident made the news, and the entire school talked about nothing else for several weeks afterward. “I handled them just fine.”

“
Ohhhh.
I get it. This is one of those post-traumatic stress things, right? You have something to prove?” She patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Rileigh. I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out. You have two years before you really have to decide on a major.”

I nearly choked. Why was it people assumed if a girl wanted to take on the job of a warrior or a fighter she must have some sort of brain injury? My fingers tightened into fists, and a familiar tingling sensation pulled across my chest as my ki flared to life.

“I see I’ve arrived just in time!” Q looped an arm around
my neck. “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but
Rileigh is urgently needed in the kitchen. Some sort of chips-and-dip crisis.”

The girl stuck out her lip in a pout. “That’s too bad. It was really great catching up with you. We’ll have to exchange emails so we can stay in touch.”

Before I could answer, Q yanked me toward the hallway. “Don’t you worry. Rileigh’s excellent about keeping in touch.” He turned his head and whispered in my ear, “With her fists.”

I giggled, and the knot of tension inside me dissolved. Once we’d made it down the hall, he pulled me inside my bedroom, shut the door, and leaned against it with folded arms. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

“Meh.” I flopped onto my bed. “Any chance we can skip Dr. Q’s psychoanalysis and move onto the cupcake-eating portion of the night?”

“Are there any red velvet?”

I snorted. “How long have we been friends? Do you think there was any chance there wouldn’t be red velvet?”

“You don’t like red velvet.”

“True. But I like you.”

His arms fell to his side. “Rileigh, I’m so sor—”

“Don’t!” I sat up. “If you apologize to me one more time, I swear I’ll punch you. What happened to Kim was not your fault.” I patted the bed beside me.

Q sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He shuffled over to my bed and plunked down beside me. “If it’s not my fault, why do I feel so terrible? Sometimes, I think maybe you should punch me—because I deserve it. I took away the love of your life.”

“No.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “You saved him. And me. The only thing you deserve is a mountain of cupcakes served on a platter by one of my mom’s underwear models.”

He laughed. “Well, you get on that.”

I smirked. “That’s what she said.”

“Not in my world.” He grinned mischievously and threw an arm around my shoulder. “Now, want to tell me why you were making the ‘Rileigh Martin Fists of Fury’ at poor Lisa Pope?”

“Lisa! I knew it started with an L!”

Q shook his head, his chin bristling the hairs on the crown of my head. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding anything.”

Q snorted.

I scowled up at him. “It’s just that Lisa was talking about college and when I told her where I was going … ” The words died on my tongue and I shrugged. “Am I making a mistake?”

“What do you mean?”

“I could go away, you know. I received acceptance letters from colleges across the country but … I … ” I shook my head.

Q nodding knowingly. “You can’t leave him.”

“I can’t. But at the same time, I know I can’t put my life on hold for something that might never be.” A dull ache throbbed inside me. “He might never remember me, Q. I know that. But I can’t let go. At least, not yet.”

“Oh, honey.” Q gave me a tight squeeze. “Nobody expects you to let go.”

A girl’s high-pitched laugh breached the door, and I went rigid beside him. “I know Debbie meant well, and it is graduation and all, but I’m just not in the mood for a party.”

He glanced down at me as a smile slowly uncurled on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” He stood suddenly, leaving me scrambling to gather my balance before I face-planted on the bed.

“What are you going to do?”

He walked to my closet and threw the doors open. He pulled two blankets from the top shelf and rushed over to me where he dumped them in my lap.

I raised an eyebrow. “Q?”

“Take the blankets to the roof. You, me, and the rest of the samurai will have our own party. We can just chill outside, watch the stars, talk, whatever! It will be great.”

It really did sound great. But there was a problem. “What about all the people here? Debbie will freak if I leave my own party.”

He waved a hand through the air. “That’s the easy part. I’ll tell them that Kara Littner’s party has Jell-O shots. This place will be cleared out in ten minutes flat.”

I blinked at him. “Q, you’re a genius.”

“I know.” He pulled me to my feet. “Now take the blankets to the roof. I’ll tell Drew, Braden, and Michelle the plan and get them spreading the rumor. When everyone’s gone, we’ll come up.” He opened my bedroom door and pushed me into the hallway, right in front of my mom.

Debbie arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. “Rileigh, what are you doing with those blankets?” Beside her stood her boyfriend—and Network official—Dr. Jason Wendell. The look on his face was far more suspicious than Debbie’s accusatory glare.

“Um.” I cleared my throat.
Think, Rileigh!
What plausible reason could I have for carrying blankets out into a party?
I smelled smoke and thought I’d tear these blankets into strips and tie them into a rope so we could escape.
No. Two blankets would never make enough rope to reach the road from our twelfth-floor condo. Maybe,
Me and my classmates were feeling nostalgic and thought we’d reenact the team-building parachute fun we had in elementary school gym class.

I bit my lip. Of the two, the latter had more credibility. But before I could speak, Q swept to my side. “Get back, Deb.” He shoved me between the shoulder blades, making me stumble forward. “We found Terrance McGill sitting on Rileigh’s bed and rumor has it”—he lowered his voice conspiratorially—“he has bedbugs.”

“Dear God!” Debbie jerked back. “Rileigh, take those to the trash chute immediately. We’ll buy you a new bed set tomorrow.”

“Will do.” Q and I exchanged sly grins.

Dr. Wendell’s frown deepened, but I ignored him as I brushed past. He controlled my Network assignments, but he certainly didn’t have any say in how I spent time at my own party.

Q and I emerged from the hall. Michelle caught sight of us and wandered over. “What are you guys doing with the blankets?”

Q wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “We’re starting our own private party on the roof. But first, I need you, Braden, and Drew to help me clear the room. Get the guys and meet me by the kitchen bar. I’ll give you the details there.”

She smiled. “Sounds like fun!” She spun on her heels and disappeared into the throng of students.

Q turned to me. “Okay. You go to the roof and we’ll meet you there in ten.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder. “You are the best friend a girl could have.”

“I know. Now get out of here.” He gave me a gentle shove toward the door.

“Okay, I’m going.” I took a step forward and stopped. “Bring me up a nacho plate? With extra—”

“Jalape
ñ
os,” he finished. “Fine. Now
go
!”

Giggling, I turned back to the door. Only a true friend would kick you out of your own party with the promise of extra jalape
ñ
os.

The night was most definitely looking up.

I spread the blankets out on the roof and sat, leaning on my hands so I could tip back my head and look at the sky. The city lights masked the glow of stars. Even so, the sky was remarkably clear, a velvet blanket of black just waiting to envelop me.

I crossed my ankles and sighed happily. The night’s chill would soon be gone, replaced by the sticky summer humidity that always made me long for cooler climates.

If you hate the weather so much, you could have picked a college up north. You could have picked a college anywhere.

I flopped back on the blanket and threw my arm over my face in an attempt to drown out the nagging voice of doubt that had plagued me ever since I decided to stay in St. Louis. It wasn’t like I’d based my decision solely on Kim. The other samurai were here, as well as Dr. Wendell and my work with the Network. Staying was the right decision.

So why did it feel so wrong?

The rooftop door behind me squealed open and shut with a soft click. I didn’t bother to move my arm from my face as rubber-soled shoes padded across the concrete. “Did you remember to bring my nachos?” I asked.

“Extra jalape
ñ
os?” A distinctively not-Quentin voice responded—a voice I hadn’t heard since prom. I sat up with a gasp and spun around on the blanket. I blinked several times to ensure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. “Kim?”

He stood silently, wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt. His hands were shoved into his pockets.

I cautiously climbed to my feet. A fluttering sensation like thousands of flying cherry blossom petals blew through my stomach. As much as I wanted to hope and believe it to be true, I knew the guy standing before me wasn’t
my
Kim—the samurai who shared a lifetime of memories with me, the samurai who held my heart.

This Kim
—
well, I loved him just as much, but because I knew my love was one-sided
—
his presence filled me with a hollow ache. “W-what are you doing here?”

The muscles along his jaw tightened before he spoke. “You never returned my calls after prom.”

“
Yeah
… ” I dropped my eyes to the toes of the ballet flats I wore because Debbie didn’t think sneakers were appropriate party attire. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. It’s not that I didn’t have a great time and all, but—”