The Almost Girl – ebook edition (7 page)

“You are right about one thing. I’m not like other girls.” I meet his gaze and hold it ruthlessly until his drops away. I grab my keys off his desk and walk to the door, glancing once more over my shoulder. “I’m worse. Don’t for a second delude yourself otherwise.”

 

PREPARATION

 

It is a tide of moving bodies, all flowing toward the door. Friday afternoon, and they all can’t escape the confines of the classroom fast enough. I don’t know why I even bother to continue going to Horrow anymore. I’ve already set the plan in motion – we’re heading for Denver this weekend to see some play that June had gotten Caden tickets for. The timing will be perfect, and I need him to be willing, at least until we evert. There’s really no reason to be at school, but I tell myself that it is for Caden’s own safety.

The truth is that I’m enjoying high school for the first time in months, and in particular, this physics class. Something about Mrs Taylor’s no-nonsense confidence reminds me of my teachers back home. Not surprisingly, given who my father is, physics has always been one of my strong suits. I like this class even if it is rudimentary.

“Riven, can you stay back a minute, please?” Mrs Taylor asks just as I walk past her desk.

I nod to Caden who’s walking ahead of me. “I’ll meet you in the quad.”

Since the other day in his room, neither of us has spoken about what happened. But sometimes, I see an odd look in his eyes whenever he thinks I’m not looking, and he is quick to conceal it when I do. I don’t know what to make of it, but it’s not like it has any bearing on the job I’m there to do.

One thing I’ve learned about high school here is that it is a roiling mass of boys, girls, frenemies, and insta-crushes… in love one day and at loggerheads the next. I didn’t expect Caden to be exempt – this was his world, after all – but for my part, what had happened was already forgotten. I rule my emotions. They do not rule me.

“Make that the gym,” Caden tells me, hefting a large bag with his fencing gear. “I have a meet, remember?”

“OK, I’ll come by when I’m done.” I nod again and walk over to Mrs Taylor with a sense of foreboding born of following years of pure gut instinct. Did I repeat the mistake I’d made in Boston? Said something that is way beyond my supposed educational level? Written about some theory that doesn’t already exist in this universe?

“Yes, Mrs Taylor?”

She glances up, her eyes as dark and piercing as ever over her wire-rimmed glasses. “Sit down, please. I want to discuss the last quiz.”

“I had help,” I blurt out before she can say anything else, but she stares at me with those obsidian eyes until I sit down. Stupidly, I realize that insinuating that I’d had help for a quiz meant that I’d been cheating. Still, Mrs Taylor doesn’t say anything, and even with all my training I find that I can’t read her at all, and my palms are clammy with sweat. She shuffles through the pile of papers and moves mine to the top. Even from where I am sitting, the huge circled letter “D” is glaring.
D
? That couldn’t possibly be right. But still, I couldn’t have done better if I’d planned it. I can’t help the smile that sweeps across my face.

Mrs Taylor glares at me over her glasses. “Obviously, you didn’t have help,” she remarks, her sarcasm stinging like a wet slap. “And this is no laughing matter, young lady. May I remind you that if you fail my class, you will have to take it again in summer school?”

I almost laugh out loud. I definitely won’t be around by summer. I compose myself. “I’m sorry, Mrs Taylor. I will try to do better.” I’m about to rise when I realize that Mrs Taylor hasn’t quite finished with me.

“The thing that confuses me, Riven, is that your transcripts from previous schools are more than satisfactory, and you also seem to have an excellent grasp of the material during class-time and in discussion group, both of which suggest to me that you either weren’t prepared for the quiz or, more likely, that you deliberately answered incorrectly.”

I’m at a loss for words. “I wasn’t prepared,” I begin but the look on her face freezes any more lies from leaving my lips. My ploy, it seems, has drawn more attention than if I’d aced the test. Squirming inside at my gauche stupidity, I wait for her to continue.

“I also see from your transcripts from your last five schools that you have moved around quite a bit, more than usual for a girl your age.”

“My father’s job requires him to travel.”

“Seems excessive. What field, if I may ask?” Mrs. Taylor’s mild expression suggests that she is merely curious, but I take nothing for granted, especially if it is something that can compromise my safety. Or Caden’s.

Trust no one.
They were the last words that Cale said to me.

I shrug and smile. “Sales. He doesn’t really talk about it.” My smile turns calculating. “Kind of like the mob.” But Mrs Taylor doesn’t take the bait, and instead regards me with an unreadable smile of her own. Something uncomfortable slides along my spine; apart from June, she’s the first person to make me uneasy the whole time I’ve been looking for Caden, and I don’t like the feeling at all. “Can I go now?” I say, more testily than I’d intended.

“In a minute. I want to ask you about one more thing. Your discussion group’s project is the law of universal gravitation, correct?”

“Yes.” The uncomfortable feeling digging into my spine spreads its fingers along my ribs and across my chest. It’s Boston all over again. I can see it in Mrs Taylor’s slightly fixated expression.

“Mr Perkins… Philip,” she amends at my blank face, “your group partner, mentioned the other day that you had an interesting contention regarding the laws of gravity.”

My mind is racing now, trying to recall every bit of the offhand discussion I’d had with Philip. Bored out of my mind during one of the group sessions, I’d wanted to have a little fun, poking holes into Philip’s vast amount of book knowledge and his theories. What’s to say that this scenario couldn’t exist? Or what about this principle? Have you ever thought about if this could happen? And the killer, what about
sub-quantum gravitational distortion
? Little did I know that he would have gone back to Mrs Taylor. I grit my teeth to keep from kicking myself.

I paste a vacuous look on my face and twirl a strand of hair around my finger just as I’d seen Sadie doing earlier. It makes me sick to my stomach to be imitating someone that vapid, but I grit my teeth and twirl as if my life depends on it.

“Philip,” I repeat in what I hope is a dreamy voice. “I think he really likes me. I was only trying to impress him, Mrs Taylor. The thing is, I don’t know the first thing about gravity except what they say on that television show,
Star Trek
. That’s where I got the ideas. Did he say something bad about me?”

By the end of my mini-tirade, my voice has degenerated into an irritating whine. I am sickened at the empty-headed sound of it, but know that I have no choice. Hopefully, Mrs Taylor will believe me, but the truth is I have no idea about
Star Trek
other than a couple reruns I’d seen at a motel in Philadelphia, which I’d thought hilarious. I can only hope that my impersonation of a vacuous valley girl will work.

“Which episode?” she asks without batting an eye.

“I think it was called ‘Gravity,’ it was about some kind of gravitational distortion.” Mrs Taylor’s eyes are relentless but I force myself to look as clueless as possible. My relief is palpable when I sense rather than see her shoulders relax and her body tilts away from me.

“Sometimes the writers of those television shows deserve more credit than they’re given,” she says after a long moment.

“I wouldn’t know,” I say. “Most of the time I have help… even at the other schools. People tend to feel sorry for me. Boys, in particular.” Something tells me I’m pushing it, but I can’t seem to stop the excessive overcompensation for my slip with Philip, even though I’m obviously in the clear.

The thoughtfulness in Mrs Taylor’s eyes wanes to actual distaste, and I squirm in my seat. In a different world, I’m sure she and I could have had a scintillating conversation about sub-quantum theory and gravitational distortion.

It is the reason I am even able to come here, after all.

I stare at the floor chewing on my lip until Mrs Taylor says briskly, “Well, thanks for clearing that up.
Star Trek
aside, I will expect you to perform better on the next quiz. And try to take on your share of the work, will you, Riven?”

I’m almost home free, but for some reason, I stop at the door. Even though it shouldn’t matter, it bothers me that she thinks I’m some sort of vapid idiot who would use others to get ahead. Failing is just not a part of who I am.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time. I just want you to know that this isn’t who I am. I pull my own weight and I don’t cheat.”

Aware that I’m babbling for no reason, I’m already out the door, so I nearly miss the speculative glance she sends in my direction, but I’ve had enough interrogation for one day. Mrs Taylor will be no more than a distant memory in a few days. Maybe as a goodbye present, I’ll leave her a paper on sub-quantum string theory and its practical application to move between universes. Then again, altering the course of history is a big no-no, as in strictly – we’re talking punishable by imprisonment – forbidden.

Outside, the day has waned to a cool, clear evening. I check my watch. Caden’s meet will be in full swing… and full of more people. I have the biggest urge to race back to my motel room and lay on the bed in the dark for a while where it’s quiet and I am alone, and where I can think. Instead, I sit on a nearby bench and close my eyes just for a moment.

All of this interaction is tiresome. Remembering what to say and what not to say takes a huge toll after a while, and I’m mentally exhausted, especially after the confrontation with Mrs Taylor. Before, I’d shift in and out, looking for Caden and then move on. Now that I’ve found him, coupled with my hindrance of an injury, I’ve had more interaction with these people than I’d ever intended. And it’s literally draining.

Plus, too much contact means bad things could happen. It means that my presence could unknowingly set something into motion… a disturbance in the natural course of events. It means that other people – not just the Vectors – could find me, but also the Guardians, who monitor such disturbances.

I’ve never met a Guardian, but Cale’s father told me that they were there to make sure that people on both sides stayed where they were supposed to be. For centuries, the Guardians have been an elite group bound to the same code on both sides, preventing people from shifting, under the Laws of Eversion after the Great Infection of 1927. They answer only to the Faction, a trio of leaders supposedly older than the monarchy of my world.

You evert, you die. It’s as simple as that. If the environmental differences don’t get you, the Guardians will.

Only with Caden, the Guardians had failed. Until recently, everyone thought that Caden was dead. But obviously, he isn’t dead… he is very much alive, a secret that Cale only revealed to me a few months ago when he mysteriously became sick. So, somehow, Caden has managed to outwit them and survive all this time. I can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something more, something I am missing that’s right in front of my face… something essential to his survival here.

He told me that his mother had died here, from a seizure. She probably had the pills that my father had given her, but they didn’t help. My father warned that the pills with their brain stabilization agents wouldn’t work for everyone, and everting would only put more pressure on the body’s central nervous system. But the plain truth is that we don’t belong here, and the universe has its own way of righting wrongs, of fixing inconsistencies. Her seizure was just that… nature’s way of dealing with cheaters.

I take in a few deep breaths and complete a set of mental exercises to clear my head. A quick glance at my watch suggests that the meet should nearly be over, so I start to make my way across the quad. A part of me doesn’t want to watch Caden fence – I don’t want to see what a natural he is, just like Cale.

Cale
.

For a second, I wonder how he’s doing. Whether he’s surviving in what has become a sea of snakes and traitors. They won’t kill him, that I am sure of, because they need his name too much to control the people of Neospes; loyalty to the monarchy was too hard-won to be usurped by a single coup. We were too careful, too suspicious of sudden changes.

People trusted Cale’s family. They trusted his father, and now he was dead… assassinated in cold blood by his half-brother, a bloodthirsty man greedy for power. Without a doubt, I know that Cale was next. His life is collateral for the moment… collateral for support. His uncle will keep him alive for as long as it suits his purpose. I have to trust that he is somehow holding on; otherwise, everything I’m doing will be for nothing.

Fear for Cale’s safety clouds my mind so much that I almost crash into a group of kids standing in a shadowy corner near the gym.

“Watch where you’re going!” shouts a slurred voice. A foul breath blows into my face, and I almost gag.

“Sorry,” I say, and then belatedly recognize one of the faces in the crowd: Charisma, the other girl from my physics discussion group. The slurred voice belongs to a dark-haired guy she’s leaning against… the one with the foul breath. He’s obviously drunk or high on something, and she looks dazed but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, Charisma,” I say, but she won’t even meet my eyes, as if she’s staring right through me. Something about the way the guy’s arm is wrapped around her shoulders rubs me the wrong way and I hesitate.

It’s not your problem
, my inner voice hisses.
None of these people, other than Caden, are. Keep walking
.

I listen, take two steps, and halt. Even though I’ve only had a few classes with Charisma, she’s grown on me with her upbeat personality and her willingness to help others. She’s one of those types of people I wish I could be more like – selfless and caring – but I am so far beyond that person, it’s not even funny. Hardness and cynicism drives me. With so much loss in my world, allowing myself to care about anything other than my own survival is a death sentence. I guess a part of me feels drawn to Charisma for that reason. She seems untouched by anything ugly.