“Your voice is better than silence. Slightly,” she added darkly.
“Yours isn't,” I replied. God, I wanted to shake her. She was so smug, so superior. And I was still fuming about her disdain for Kitten.
Allison scowled over at me. “Listen. Let's cut the crap and talk about the real issue here. You like my brother. I see the way you look at him, and I'm sick of it.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek until the metallic twang of blood lined my tongue. “Well, do you see the way he looks at me?”
“He doesn't like you,” she insisted. She leaned forward, palms resting on the table. “And even if he did, he wouldn't risk our father's wrath and do something about it. The two of you are hopeless.”
I knew that, and I didn't like the reminder. “If we're hopeless, why are you so worked up about it?”
She ran her tongue over her lips, but didn't say anything.
“Nothing's going to happen between us, okay,” I said, bitterness layering my words. “So you can just relax about it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She turned her head, staring at the walls that enclosed us. Several minutes ticked by. The silence became thick and heavy, enveloping us.
“What do you think everyone is doing right now?” she asked. For the first time, she spoke to me as if I were an acquaintance rather than an enemy.
“Having fun,” I grumbled.
“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “Having fun.”
It was Friday, social day, so everyone was at a party. They were drinking punch, eating delicious food; they were talking and laughing. And I was stuck here. New hookups were probably happening right now. I wondered if Bradley and Kitten had finally made a move on each other.
“You know,” Allison said on a long sigh, “I never got in trouble before you arrived.”
“So I've been told,” I said dryly. “You shouldn't have attacked me. Why did you, anyway? And don't say your brother—you knew nothing would ever happen between us.”
“You were getting on my nerves, strutting around as if you owned the place.” She drew a circle on the tabletop. “I've been here for months. Me. Not you. I've earned the right to strut. You haven't.”
That wasn't the only reason she'd jumped me. I could see the knowledge in her eyes. “I'd say it was to solidify your place here, but you've been here so long, you don't need to prove yourself anymore.”
“Ha! You have no idea.”
I sat up straighter in my chair, peering at her. “Then why don't you explain it to me so that I do understand?”
Her jaw became a mutinous line a split second before she crumbled and the words poured from her. “I always have to prove myself. My father runs this place. If I'm not the best, people begin to question my talent, as if I don't have any. They forget the kills I've already made.”
I arched a brow, a mimic of the expression she'd given me a little while ago. A mimic of her father. “So you decided to challenge me? A new trainee?”
“Everyone's in awe of you.” She scrubbed a hand down her face. “Did you see the new girl?” she said, sotto voce. “I hear she took down a gang of Sybilins on her own. Did you see the new girl? I hear she knocked Ryan on his ass.”
I wanted to grin at the memory, but didn't dare. There was a vulnerability to Allison now that kind of—God, I hated to admit this—saddened me. Even reminded me of myself.
“I have to prove myself, too, you know?” I told her.
She snorted in disbelief. “Everyone already loves you.”
“I'm the girl who was addicted to Onadyn. I'm the girl who could start flying again at any moment. I'm the girl the instructors might kick out at any moment.” I crossed my arms over my chest, daring her to contradict me.
Her cheeks fused with color, a bright, bright red. “All right. Fine. You have to prove yourself, too.”
A few seconds later, a buzzer announced the end of our session. Neither one of us stood right away. We just looked at each other.
“I'm sorry I jumped you,” she said grudgingly.
I hadn't expected an apology, even though we'd reached a sort of truce, and I was momentarily rendered speechless. “Well, uh, I'm sorry you jumped me, too.”
Her lips edged into a smile; it was the first she'd ever given me. “You have an attitude problem, you know that?”
I felt my own lips curling upward. “Maybe we were separated at birth.”
She laughed out loud this time, amusement lighting her entire face, softening her, making her a beautiful sight. She stood. “See you around, Phoenix.”
“Yeah. See you around, Allison.”
She strode from the room with the cocky swagger of an agent. Not a trainee, but an actual agent. I had to admire her for that. I pushed to my feet, too. With a sigh, I left the “naughty” room, as I'd come to call it.
I ground to a halt the moment I stepped into the hall, though. Emma was leaning against the wall, her hands in her pockets. Her pale hair was in disarray around her shoulders, and there were shadows under her eyes. The trident tattooed on her cheek seemed larger than before. Maybe because her cheeks were a bit sunken.
I'd always wondered why she'd gotten that tattoo and what it meant.
“Hey,” I said. Each day during anatomy class, I'd invited her to my room later that day to study. Each day, she'd ignored me.
“Hey,” she replied, staring down at her boots.
Well, well, well. Today was a day of firsts, I guess. Allison and I had walked away on easy terms, and now Emma was speaking to me. “What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the party?”
She met my gaze briefly. “I needed to talk to you.”
“About what?” I didn't ask with heat; I asked with genuine curiosity.
She pulled her hands from her pockets and twisted them together. “My aim sucks. No matter what I do, I can't make it better.”
When she said no more, I prompted, “And?”
“And yours doesn't suck.”
Realization dawned, and I nodded. “You want my help.” A statement, not a question.
She nodded, the action stiff.
A moment passed as I considered my answer. Finally I said, “I'll make you a deal. You help me study alien anatomy, and I'll help you with your aim.”
She answered quickly, with no hesitation, as if I'd given her exactly what she'd hoped for. “Deal.”
“Want to start now? I've got time.”
She lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, but I could see the eagerness in her eyes.