The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) (14 page)

Maybe it was the fact I was getting seriously frustrated (with myself and this stupid situation), or maybe it was some inner part of me that didn’t like to lose. But just thinking about all of these nights with zero success in finding my alchemy, I was getting ticked. And upset.
And afraid.

What if I couldn’t find my own alchemy element before my fake heart stopped? What if all of those wasted hours and hard work had been for nothing? Are we even any closer to finding the Elixir? It seemed like every time I tried to ask Dove about it, she would always cut the conversation short, or change it.

Had Dove already given up on me? Just thinking about it made my insides turn cold
; the hot spray of the shower did little to help to soothe the pain
. Dove always seemed like she was shouldering some heavy burden when we were around, refusing to a
nswer my questions or avoid
topics.

But even so…there were moments when she did seem to care. Like, every time I started to overexert myself she would stop me before I collapsed. Sometimes when we took breaks from training she would give little tidbits about her life with Guinevere, and the places she traveled. I saw the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her mentor. It was nice and sort of nostalgic.

There had to be a reason Dove wasn’t telling me anything. I was sure of it.

So as I stood underneath the soothing, steady stream of hot water until the tips of my fingers started to prune and the entire bathrooms were filled with steam, I was determined to try harder.

But more importantly, I was determined to get the answers I needed. I was tired of being left in the dark. There had to be a way where I could pry the answers out of Dove without hurting her.

I didn’t just want us to be mentor and pupil, or some pity project.

I wanted to be friends.

I twisted the metal knob of the shower until the pouring drizzled down and grabbed one of the white cotton towels on the rack
,
rubbing my locks furiously so they would dry quicker. I shimmied into my old bathrobe (thinking I should purchase another one—this one was two sizes too small for my frame) and padded towards the sinks.

Steam clouded the large wall to wall mirror and I wiped it away, feeling the drips of condensation slide down my arm only to be absorbed by the robe’s thick material. I wiped until I could see everythi
ng—my stringy, wet
hair that was surely going to frizz up beyond my control in the morning
(because, to be honest, I didn’t want to waste the time blow drying it)
, my green eyes that were the
only
thing that reminded me of my father, and a clean face reflected with a hint of determination on my red cheeks.

I could even see the yellow-
ish
tattoo on my chest peaking from beneath the robe, an eternal reminder of this battle I needed to win and—

—a shadowy figure standing behind me.

CHAPTER 13

I whirled around, the wet ends of my hair slapping my face as my eyes scanned the supposedly empty bathroom. The steam was thick, and the only sounds were my heavy breathing and…
somebody’s footsteps walking away
.

My breath hitched, and I suddenly felt goose bumps litter the surface of my exposed skin. If this was just someone in the dorm getting an early morning shower, they wouldn’t sneak around, would they? Unless they were painfully shy.

Or some sort of trespasser.

I reached for my plastic bin and emptied the contents on the porcelain sink, raising it to my side like a weapon. It wasn’t much, but it’ll do. I held my breath as the footsteps darted from the exit to the other side of the bathrooms, and I suddenly remembered the small lounge near the sides of the lockers when I had explored the dorms the first week I had arrived. I nearly forgot about them—since I never really ventured into the small
lounge area, just hop in to
shower and brush my teeth and hop back out before the seniors made their way in.

The lounge had windows
that were up high by the ceilings, sort of like the ones in the libraries archives; ones that took a great effort to really reach them
. I followed after, making sure my own footsteps didn’t make a sound as I darted between the lockers. Finally, I made it to the edge of the lounge and peered out, raising the bin so that one of the corners stuck out.

I saw the ba
ck of whoever had snuck in—someone of heavy build, my height…
possibly taller?—was heading towards one of the windows with such light footsteps you would have thought he was a ghost. He gave the closest one a heave, but it didn’t budge open. I almost snickered out loud as he growled in annoyance.

But when his face turned to the side, my heart dropped into my stomach. I was about to scream and charge until he turned swiftly,
crossed his arms out in front of him
and
slammed
through the window. I saw a flash of something white clutched in his hands just seconds before the impact.

I
gave out a shriek
, taking cover behind the wall as shards of glass flew about. A few pieces landed near my bare feet, but I couldn’t move.

After counting down the minutes (a very hard thing to do when your heart was hammering ninety miles an hour and you had to physically talk yourself into calming down), I
peered
out. The damage was bad, but
fixable—large shards of the window lay carelessly on the ground, and there were jagged, crooked edges from where the windowpane had been.

But there was something red on the tips of them, and I narrowed my eyes, too scared to take a step forward
.

Blood.
Whoever was just in here had got cut up pretty bad.
Good
. I thought
they shouldn’t have been in the
girl’s locker
-room
in the first place!

But even though I tried to play this off as some silly school prank or some sort of frat boy thing, even I knew that if a guy had snuck into the girl’s bathroom, he wouldn’t have risked jumping th
rough a window just to escape.
Unless he was desperate, but I had a feeling this was something more than
some stupid childish prank.

The trespasser had turned just so briefly, his head blocking the early rays of the morning light and casts a heavy shadow over his face. In other words, I had no idea what he looked like, but for a split moment I felt his eyes stare me down—right into my very heart—before he raced off.

“
Omigod
!” someone cried out from the other side of the baths. A small wave of irritation fell over me as I jumped, and my skin crawled. It didn’t take a genius to know whose heavy accent that belonged to, “
Oh my god
, you guys! Come look!
Somebody freaking smashed up one of the windows!
” But
what
was even more irritable was the fact that—I was so relieved that there was somebody else in the bathrooms.

Even if said person
shrilling on like some lost banshee
was Mallory
Wells
.

From my crouched position I saw Mallory and two of her friends (what were their names?) trail behind her as she made her way over to the entrance. The shortest one with dark skin like cocoa look at me and her eyes instantly went cold.

“Huh?” the strawberry blonde said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as her wide baby blue eyes stared at me, “Isn’t that the girl that Jack always hangs out with? Emily something…”

“How should I know?” the other one said, “What the hell is she doing in the showers this early in the morning anyway?”

I could have shot that exact question back at her pretty face, but it didn’t matter anyway because she continued on as if she couldn’t see me having a panic
attack on the floor, “God! I kept telling
Jack that she is such a weird girl,” Mallory cried out, already turning her back to me;
talking to her other friend
s. The dark-skinned
Tyra
Banks-like beauty
seemed completely enthralled with Mallory’s every word
, while the girl
with
the pretty
strawberry blo
nde curls shot a hesitant look back and forth between Mallory and me
.
Other than that, i
t was like I wasn’t even in the room. What a typical Drama Queen.
Mallory kept on,
“Sneaking out every night and doing God knows what in the forest. And now she’s damaged school property! Twice! Can you
believe that?”

The damaged fence was no newsflash—it became the school’s number one gossip the very first day of classes, although how Mallory pinpointed me to being near the scene of the crime had me baffled. Did Jack somehow mention that? If so, that really…hurt. I sequenced the disappointment in my chest. For one thing, I could easily prove that I didn’t break the window (or how anybody would believe me is an entirely different story), but what made my blood run cold was her first retort. How did she even know about me sneaking out?  I made sure that I was never seen, or if someone had spotted me sneaking down the stairs, I always made some lame excuse like going for a quick run or meeting with club (curfew for students wasn’t until 10 pm anyway. And besides, it’s not like everyone stops at my door to b
e all buddy-buddy with me
).

Mallory smirked at my shocked expression, and for a short moment I was scared. She seemed like a giant from my view. Her thin legs seemed to stretch on and her too tight shirt showed how well off she was in that department. She had a black and red skimpy looking outfit draped over her arm, and now it made sense why she and her group was in the showers so early:
they were preparing for early morning
cheerleading practice. Guess they were ready to get primped for their early morning workout.
How long had I been in the showers? It couldn’t have been over an hour…

I slowly stood up, feeling my knees quake from a mixture of fear and exhilaration, “Is that what you’re going on about?” I hissed, feeling hot and sweaty all over. So this is what it was about, huh? Jack. I’ve barely said two words to the guy since our last meeting at the library, even though we’ve had passing glances and the occasional greeting. “You think I’m messing around in the woods every night?
Fine.
It’s not my damn business what you think or what you say. But don’t think you can act like such a brat and assume things about me. I know the real reason why you’re trying to rile me up. It’s all about Jack, isn’t it? Your jealousy is written all over your face.”

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just grabbed my stuff and ran, but her attitude and possessiveness just pissed me off to no end. I should have expected some sort of strange rumor to float about if people saw me sneaking out every night (and honestly, if I saw someone do that I would have assumed the worst too). But to say it like she knew for a fact that I was
getting it on
in the woods, when everything was this damn life or death situation?! How dare she?

None of this was about sneaking out or being better than the other person. I could see it from the anger in her eyes when I mentioned Jack.

This was all about him. And looking back, every time we saw each other Mallory was always near, either clutched to his side or lingering from behind, eyeing any girl that approached him with menace. I always thought it was some stupid thing. You know, the popular girls marking their territory, and I guess there was some unspoken rule to never go out with a girl’s ex-boyfriend, no matter
how much
he didn’t pay her any attention. Jack never said anything about it and I knew it wasn’t really my business to mention it. It’s not like she’s tried to hurt me before.

But I had a sick feeling that today was going to change that.

She moved so fast that I didn’t see her hand coming. I let out a cry when a sharp stinging pain exploded on my left cheek.

“Not
only
do you go around, acting like a slut, but you’re also a bitch! A crazy, insane, jealous
bitch
!” she snapped, gesturing to broken window that was letting the cool morning air of October breeze through. “You need to be locked up! No—you need to pack your things and go back to that crack school back home where you belong! I keep telling everyone here that St. Mary’s isn’t a school for
poor
nobodies
like you, and I guess you just proved my point.”

Before I could say, or do, anything, Mallory shoved me.
Hard.
My feet slipped on the tile floor as I struggled to gain balance, but it was too late. For someone the size of a twig, she was pretty powerful. I fell to the floor—b
its of
glass and all—and landed with a sickening
, horrible
thud. The back of my skull banged against the tile
with such force I felt as if my eyes were going to pop out of there sockets,
and all of the air whooshed out of me.