Red Handed (Young Adult Alien Huntress 1) - Page 10/51

New Chicago High finally came into view. One of the newer buildings, it was silver, towering, and wide. Each window and door was equipped with automatic shade to prevent people from seeing inside, a metal detector, and a computer that logged the identity of everyone who entered or left.

Every school was the exact same. No colors except silver, no team name (they'd been deemed “derogatory”). There were sports teams, of course, but they were strictly for humans since certain aliens and their abilities were considered “unfair.”

There was a smattering of Arcadians that attended my school, the race known for their white hair, violet eyes, and psychic abilities. There were a few Terans, who were catlike (with fur, pointed ears, and scratchy tongues), and one Mec, a lanky thing that was all white, even its eyes.

I'd never really spent time with any of them. And now, more than ever, I didn't want to.

I entered Comp II, my first class of the day, experiencing a jolt of surprise when I spotted Jamie in back. She looked healthy, unscathed. Maneuvering around a too-slow student—who jumped out of the way so she wouldn't have to touch me, making me feel even lower—I quickened my step and slid into the chair directly across from Jamie's.

My backpack slapped against my side as I dropped it onto the floor.

“Hey,” Jamie said, smiling when she spied me. She looked beautiful, well rested, and was wearing a black corset top and black cobweb pants.

“Are you okay?” I didn't waste time with idle conversation.

She frowned in confusion. “Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?”

Why wouldn't she be? Uh, because we were attacked by aliens. Because you drank enough Breathless to kill ten humans. “Do you remember anything about Friday night?”

“Yeah,” she repeated. She laughed. “It was utterly—” Pause. She bit her bottom lip as she searched for the right word. “Amazing!”

O-kay. Not the word I would have chosen. “What about the Sybilins? They would have killed you if Ryan and Allison hadn't fought them off.”

For several seconds, Jamie didn't speak, just regarded me as if I needed to return to Chateau Insano for another round of therapy. Then her red glossed lips lifted in a slow smile. “I thought you were turning on us, but you flew that night, too, and hallucinated. God, it's so good to have you back.”

“Wait.” I held up my hand in a bid for silence. I could accept that she didn't recall the Sybilins or the ensuing battle. I knew what I had seen, I knew I hadn't done drugs, and it hadn't been a hallucination on my part. What I couldn't accept was everyone assuming I was using again. “I didn't use.”

Her smile widened. “Sure you didn't.”

I ground my teeth together. “How did you get home?”

Jamie's shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug, and she hooked several dark curls behind her ear. “Some ass**le cop brought me home. He lectured me for flying the entire drive. Blah, blah, blah. I blacked out after a while and woke up yesterday morning in bed.”

That sounded familiar.

“My parents almost had a breakdown when I woke up, since the officer had told them I'd ‘abused Onadyn.'” She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Of course, someone must have spiked my drink because I would never do such a thing.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but Mrs. Howard strode into the room, the door automatically closing behind her with a snap. “Good morning, class.” She was all business. A black tailored pant suit, hair slicked back from her face, no-nonsense tone. “Take out your computers and click to page one hundred and sixteen of your Comp II book.”

Several students groaned.

Jamie's computer already rested on top of her desk, so she punched a series of buttons. A blue square crystallized directly above the keyboard, dappled like water but thicker. Almost like jelly. Her fingers then keyed in the appropriate code and page number and the words materialized, small and black, perfectly legible.

I searched my backpack, but didn't see my computer. Dread filling me, I straightened. I must have left it at home.

“Phoenix Germaine, take out your book,” Mrs. Howard commanded. “We have a lot to cover today and not a lot of time to do it.”

I met her very stern stare, not allowing myself to flinch. “I don't have it. I'm sorry.”

Her lips thinned with displeasure. “That is unacceptable, Miss Germaine. Without your computer, you cannot take notes. Without taking notes, you will fail the next test and you, my dear, cannot afford to fail.”

Chairs skidded backward as everyone turned to look at me. Some were snickering, some were smirking. My cheeks flushed. Thankfully, a knock sounded at the door, saving me from having to utter a reply.

Mrs. Howard pressed a button on a remote, and the darkened screen in the center of the door cleared, revealing the face of Principal Edgars and—I couldn't make out who was with him, only the slash of black. Mrs. Howard pressed another button and the door slid open.

Edgars strode inside, flanked by a tall, well-muscled man I didn't recognize, as well as an equally tall redheaded female. They stopped in the center and pivoted toward the class. Oh, no. No, no, no. There was only one reason people like that would be in this school.

My heart drummed in my chest so hard I feared my ribs would crack. Please don't say my na—

“Phoenix Germaine,” the principal said in his deep, raspy voice. He had plain mocha features, mocha-colored eyes, and they swept over the students until landing on me. “Gather your supplies and step into the hall.”

Once again everyone faced me. My mouth went dry, as if the Sybilins were here sucking out every ounce of moisture. I hadn't gotten out of camp, after all.

The two strangers didn't say a word, just eyed me up and down, inspecting me as if I were a house or car they were thinking about buying. I gulped. I couldn't believe my mom had really done it; I couldn't believe she was sending me away without saying good-bye.

Tears stung my eyes, but I brushed them away. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. I'd be strong. I'd be okay.

“What's going on?” Jamie whispered behind her hand.

How long until I saw her again? How long would I be forced to stay at camp for a crime I hadn't committed?

“Phoenix?” Jamie said, uncertain.

“My life is crumbling, that's what's happening.” I stood on shaky legs and hefted my backpack onto my shoulder.

“You won't need that,” the male stranger said, speaking for the first time since entering the room.

Why not? I wanted to ask, but didn't. I was afraid of the answer. Biting my lower lip, I dropped the pack to the ground.