

Spades

A novel by Kristy Evans

CHAPTER ONE

Listening to the blue minivan hum beneath us, there was no time to push the rewind button. With the seatbelt strained across my waist, wind seeped through my half-cracked window and brushed against my face. Violet mists trailed into the sky and created the stage for my new reality. The road sign read 'Welcome to Lakeville Forest' when Kevin shoved his body through the window.

"Woooo! Welcome home, Ladies and gentlemen!" He drummed on the hood of the van and gave Ohio the middle finger. Then he stretched his arms far above his head, until the bulk of his sweater lifted high above his waistline. His beady eyes were blue and curious, and his dimpled chin complimented the rest of his features. As he shot me a look through the window, I noticed he was chewing on gum like farmers chewed on tobacco.

Blue rose from her peaceful slumber and spat, "Kevin, you're an idiot," before falling back down again – she obviously felt there was something unique about the guy who carried a knife in his back pocket.

Their names weren't hard to memorize. Tre was the attentive black guy with an English accent. Blue was the other girl besides me, who had countless piercings all over her body. Chris was rough around the edges and had vibrant black hair that ruffled when the wind hit it. He found his way into my life last night, at the La Traviatta operetta.

"Calise, is it?" Blue asked.

I nodded.

"My boss never meets new people," she went on, turning in my direction. "If he does, he never brings them here. How did the two of you meet? Was it a stroll in the park?"

Chris adjusted the mirror, shooting her a look.

"I know, Coach," she added. "We just want to hear her side of the story."

They waited, expecting some long juicy tale.

"Well," I started. "He saved my life."

They blinked twice, except for Blue. She rolled her eyes and gave a short laugh. "Oh brother. So you're a thing now? Should I say congratulations?"

"Damn right," Kevin interrupted in a girly voice, obviously answering on my behalf. "Chris and I are having such a good time together," he admitted plainly, and then turned the other way and stared out the window. "He asked me to be here. I couldn't resist."

After they were done teasing me for no reason, I stared outside. My mind wandered off to the fantastic night Chris and I had just spent together and how wonderful it was to have someone like him to talk to. He was non-judgmental and had been kind enough not to let my self-inflicted wrists bleed out.

It was then that Chris peered at me through the mirror and winked, letting me know we were both on the same page. I was relieved my bogus plan to stay in California and attend my second year of college hadn't worked out, that our secret was safe between us, because now I got to be here, sitting behind this new intriguing individual.

He was, by far, the most interesting person I'd ever met.

*

"Are you hungry?" Chris asked, finding me through the rear-view mirror.

My stomach growled louder than the engine, which was a direct result of negligence since I forgot to eat something before we left LAX. I'd been too caught up in the bliss of running away. Wondered if Mr. Carl even noticed I was gone yet. He was probably too busy escorting his beloved Laura to another marvelous theater performance.

I realized everyone else around us had fallen asleep. "Oh yeah, sure," I replied.

As I stared at the lines in my palms, I pondered the line between chance and fate. It must've been fate Chris caught my eye at the operetta, and introduced me to this whole new realm, a realm which I never knew existed less than 24 hours ago. All I knew was their 'untitled profession' had something to do with him being there in the first place. He explained he was on a business assignment, and found my curious eyes gazing around the crowd. He described my face as 'alluring.'

After finding me in the women's bathroom, almost dead, he took me to his marble mansion in Laguna Beach and gave me a quick tour of his large estate. Then for the entire night, he stared at me with soul-piercing eyes, like we'd known each other. Neither of us were surprised when he didn't take me home. The way we spent our time together, alone in his mansion, there was no doubt in my mind we were together.

*

Luckily Chris's friends looked around my age so I didn't feel too incongruous. Staring outside the window, I realized Ohio was the complete opposite of Los Angeles. The greenery was nice and easier to deal with than city traffic or angry drivers flipping each other off. Fiery waves dwindled from the sky. A thin fog smothered the windows as trees swayed on both sides of the road. The town was at ease.

I stared at the back of Chris's head, which was firmly nestled in the seat in front of me. His hair fluttered in the wind, in an effortless, controlled way and I imagined what the smooth texture would feel like sliding between my fingers.

It wasn't long before we pulled into a shabby old gas station. Prices were scribbled on scraps of white cardboard, and the moment we neared a pump, Tre was the first one to make his way.

"Need anything out of here, Coach?"

He replied, "The usual's fine."

Blue and Kevin trailed shortly behind. "Hurry up." She nudged him further out the door.

Seeing them together was like watching an action movie – James Bond, but not on purpose. They moved toward the dimly lit mini market quickly and in a hurry. As soon as they reached their target, an old man slugged toward the van and tapped on the glass, as though he'd been sleepwalking.

"Who's there? What are you kids doing around this part?" he asked.

Chris rolled down the window. "It's me, Sam."

"Oh, hey Chris! How've you been? Ain't seen you around since last February." He turned to me with stretched eyes. "Oh looky there! What do we have here? You brought along a cute little penny, too. Ain't she perty."

Chris handed him a hundred dollar bill. "Thanks, Sam," he replied and walked over to my window. "You should go get something to eat, Calise. You'll be hungry later."

Startled by those brown eyes, I almost forgot about the grumblings going on in my stomach. "Right," I agreed and opened the door. "Want anything else?" I asked. "The least I can do is take care of you, after you've done so much for me."

He breathed deeper this time. "Don't worry. The others will take care of it." The edge of his hand brushed against mine, taking me by surprise. Soon, our fingers slithered together in a natural tryst.

I had to admit: holding hands with him was nice. There was an undeniable charm about standing next to him inside wildlife, that made my heart petals open. Such a simple gesture triggered our own mysterious adventure. "So . . . this was the place you were telling me about?"

He peered around, wearing a look of satisfaction. "Yes. I feel more myself when I'm here . . . closer to everything." He started pointing all around us.

I knew meeting him wasn't a mistake or a coincidence. Right now, he was my hero. So I tried making something up, anything to make him laugh again.

"Thanks for letting me into your world."

That bit of gratitude was enough, and certainly made him smile for the first time since we landed. He stared off in front of him. "Don't mention it."

Before he could say another word, I climbed out of the van and grabbed the sliding door, snapping it shut. The others were already on their way back when our paths crossed in an awkward twine. They carried bags under their arms and a load of other stuff that was probably molded and gross from being locked inside the old Ohio cave; this store had to be at least a zillion years old.

Tre was talking to Kevin as they burst into laughter. I knew they were talking about me. Blue followed behind them with a pack of water bottles over her shoulder and seemed to be handling more weight than the guys.

Opening the front glass door, I observed a pile of orange baskets near the wall and grabbed one from the stack. Skimming over the food supply, I threw in candy bars, microwavable dinners, and every chip bag that was left on the shelf; the juice packs were out of my favorite flavor, so I didn't spend much time in the beverage isle. The lady at the register slowly scanned each item.

"Is that all?"

I noticed the van was pulled beside the curb, which was probably Chris's subtle way of saying put a move on it. So I grabbed my bags from the register lady and hastened out. Climbing into the back, I already started shucking one of my candy bars.

"Can we enlighten your new friend here on the rules?" Kevin asked.

Everyone stared at me.

"No chocolate," Kevin answered his own question.

Tre grabbed my packages and peeked inside. "Yeah, we don't eat trash. AKA anything with sugar."

After a moment's hesitation, I relinquished the 'bar of sin' and watched Tre shoot my dinner straight through the window.

"Whoop there it is."

Kevin looked up. "Nah man, you missed."

Tre tossed me a bag of nut trail mix. "From now on, you eat like the rest of us. If that's a problem..."

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Blue added, finishing his sentence.

I frowned and nibbled on a raisin. No candy? No rich, melted, chocolaty substance sliding down my throat? This was going to be tougher than I thought.

*

Some hours later we pulled into a slanted driveway. Pebbles crunched under tires, and shadows emerged from the glare of the moon, showing off a pointed rooftop and medieval statues. The castle-like mansion stood concealed behind an eerie group of oak trees with the attributes of a haunted house.

"We're here," Kevin announced.

Chris turned off the engine and slumped back. Everyone fell silent. They seemed to be contemplating, preparing themselves for something unknown. Their unbroken glances confounded me, and I wanted to know what mysterious subject lingered in their thoughts. I knew this was their home and training ground. Chris told me this was the place they came to most often. So I wondered why they looked at the house strangely.

Tre slid the door open, sniffing the air. "Mmm, smell that?"

"Smells like rain." Kevin lifted the bag over his shoulder.

The air was crisp as I stepped onto the circular dirt trail. A small draft trickled down my back, and I clasped my jacket. "Is it always this cold?"

Chris smiled. "Only in the winter."

It was mid-February, and I wanted to tackle him for the extra sweater he was wearing, but Blue rushed by so fast I nearly got whiplash. Her gray tank top showed off a cute heart-shaped belly ring with glittery stones. Loose gray sweats also revealed the butterfly tattoo on her left hip. She slowed down behind the guys and finally bullied her way through.

"Move."

Leaves crackled under my shoes as I studied the new environment. There was nothing modern about this place – it looked like an old cemetery. Staying inside this house, hidden deep in the woods of Ohio where no one could find me, was going to be an unusual experience for sure. On top of that, it was going to rain soon. This wasn't what I had in mind when Chris first described his abode. I imagined we'd be training somewhere sophisticated with high-class equipment and nice marble floors, like how it was at his mansion in Laguna Beach.

And yet, there was something engaging about its essence. I couldn't refute. I was utterly drawn to it.

My attention waned from the crow statue, faced down on the doorstep. I realized the others were inside already. Pushing the door forward and listening to the sound of old splintering wood, I noticed the interior was breathtakingly refined. Oak wood glistened, releasing the scent of ripe tangerines. Dim lights dazzled from the chandelier and filled the mansion with a low, mellow mood.

The other musketeers shuffled along the log staircase. While I followed behind them, our shoes squeaked, echoing against the walls. At the final step, they turned the corner, and I ended up following a subtle beam down the opposite end of the hall. There was some light seeping through a cracked open room.

"Hello?"

I walked inside and blinked twice. My blood flow reversed and turned my head into a light air bubble. Low snarls escaped. A white tiger was crouched beside the bed. Its eyes widened. Its lips curled over razor sharp teeth. I blinked again. This couldn't be for real. I did not just get sucked into the Discovery Channel. The wild animal looked at me, alert, agitated, and probably hungry.

"Down, Girl," the voice commanded, startling the both of us. A shadow magically emerged from the bathroom, and Chris walked in shirtless.

I gulped.

"Her name's Missy," he said. His back was broad, spreading out like eagle wings. Fur covered his chest and trailed down, and I wanted to twist my fingers in all of it. I felt savage watching this man like an obsessed onlooker, but I couldn't turn away.

He stroked the tiger's coat while looking directly at me. "Easy, Girl," he whispered.

The command was for Missy, but the hairs on my neck prickled. The swirling warmth in my stomach made me feel enlivened, and I didn't know whether it was coming from the vivacious white tiger, or Chris's hot naked chest.

I cleared my throat. "Whoa . . . she just popped out of nowhere."

"We have a caretaker, Ellen. She comes here to look after Missy whenever we're out of town."

"Really? I didn't see her anywhere."

He smiled. "She knew we'd be arriving soon. I told her to leave Missy in my room."

"Doesn't Missy have a cage? I'm kidding. I really do like animals, especially the really big ones."

He stared up at me. "She didn't mean to startle you, Calise."

It was pure heaven to hear him say my name the way he did. There was so much warmth beneath his tongue when he said it, so much heat in this small confined room. For the first time, I drew in the roasted almond scent emanating from his burning candles on the nightstand. The wooden walls were covered in simple, earthy art. Antique vases stood in corners. His brown and gold bedspread was the highlight, complimenting a tall triangular ceiling.

My attention was gripped by the portrait hanging above his mantel. It was the face of a girl who had brown hair, round eyes, and not a year over twenty.

She and I shared an undeniable resemblance, practically identical. I wanted to marvel at the coincidence of this girl hanging on his wall, but I was unabashedly absorbed with Chris pacifying the beast.

I watched her. The tips of his fingers spread through her coat and rolled across her skin . . . I barely missed him slipping on a black shirt and lifting my luggage.

"Come on," he summoned, rambling down the hall and smacking his teeth twice for Missy.

She obeyed and snarled at me under her snout.

As we traveled up another staircase that was quite separate from the rest of the house, I realized we were drawing near an attic. At any other time, I would've been afraid; the path was so quiet and full of creaks. But Chris helped me overcome as I stumbled here and there. Each time he rescued me from a wedge in the floor, he asked, 'Are you always like this?' before springing me up again.

Finally I stopped and turned to him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He stared down without saying a word.

So I filled in the silence. "I like that you brought me all the way to Ohio . . . and I don't know anyone else in this house except for you."

He observed me with a careful eye.

Finally we reached the attic. It was a lively and creative room. The bed was layered with colorful quilts, the top one being yellow-spotted. Every dresser was covered in scarves and fictitious plants, and a line of framed sketches hung on the walls. Though it wasn't the work of a famous artist, it was definitely by someone who aspired in the profession. Medieval statues sat in every corner. One was a pair of V-shaped wings resting on a stone platter. Music stickers crowded the headboard, and a deep-seated reverence flushed Chris's countenance the moment we walked in, like he just opened up a treasure chest.

He stood by the door, waiting. "There's another room downstairs if you'd like."

"No," I said. "I like it here." My fingers trailed over a sketch. It was the drawing of a lake surrounded by thick willow trees. "Beautiful," I whispered, admiring the delicate shading. "Who drew this?"

He posted one foot against the door. "Her name should be signed at the bottom. She was into pottery and sculpting as well. She liked making things on her free time."

I glanced at the initials, and then looked over at Chris. "J.E."

His eyes were tight lines, squinting, and seeking for something in my face.

I looked away, setting the drawing down. "Thank you for bringing me here, like you said you would."

"Don't thank me yet. We start in the morning," he answered and waited for my reply. When I didn't say anything else, he drew the door closed.

That's when I noticed everything on the outside was vibrant and colorful, but something else lingered here . . . like an invisible current. The scarves which were draped over the drawers, turned out to be head coverings. A scarlet silk piece appeared worn around the edges. I tugged it from underneath the plant and saw a black spade knitted on the center, almost like it'd been hand-sewn.

"What's up with that smell?" I grumbled.

It reeked strongly of mildew, and I made a quick trip to the bathroom to give it a good washing. The spade was such an odd shape for someone to randomly knit that I wondered who came up with the idea.

The scarf was a cute accessory, however, and an easy fit into my wardrobe. I played with the material some more, trying it on and making different styles in the mirror . . . until I ran out of ideas and snuggled under the covers, dropping the red scarf over my face. Then I dreamed.

CHAPTER TWO

Chris kept his promise.

By the time shadows emerged from the light of dawn, he knocked at my door and escorted me away from this fascinating attic-cocoon. I'd already been dressed and awake most of the night.

"Follow me," he said in a low muffled voice.

Today he wore a gray hoodie over his head. His shoulders were stretching out the material, which looked good on him. Then again, anything would look good on him. If he turned into an animal, he'd be an attractive lion, because 'feral' was his natural essence. The roughness and imperfection of his face made him unique looking. But anyone could see the round shape of his chin and the small scratch below his neck made him irresistible.

He was much more intense than yesterday, like something was on his mind other than our arms lightly brushing, as we walked on our tour together. I reminded myself it was only six in the morning. For the remaining time, I kept quiet, and allowed him to lead the way.

Right away, he showed me around his large estate and pointed out everyone's bedroom, including Missy's cage, which turned out to be some type of large stowaway tank. I was relieved to find the tiger locked inside of it, and not trailing after Chris's leg. Her behavior yesterday hadn't necessarily been a bad thing; it only confirmed how much she loved her master. Everyone in the house had a deep care (and awe) for Chris, which could only spring from their respect for him as a person.

I respected him too for being my hero. I understood him in a different kind of way now, like we were still the only two people here.

Eventually he took me to his personal office and pointed out the phone I'd be using to make outside calls. He mentioned I'd also be getting my own 'special' phone soon, like everyone else in the house. Apparently these special phones were restricted in nature. We could only use them to call each other.

It was very 'high and official.'

Lastly, we made our way to the basement. This section of the house was a gigantic gym containing benches, stability balls, yoga mats, balance beams, and weight-lifting equipment that made my dad's exercise room look like props on Sesame Street. There were no treadmills, automated bikes, or workout machines requiring a plug.

From the looks of things, we were doing this the old-fashioned way.

As I posted against the gym's wall, tapping my fingers and waiting for Chris to finish his phone call, I noticed Blue and Kevin were near the mirrors, reaching their arms out in front of them. They didn't seem to notice I was here; they hadn't spoken a word to anyone probably because it was still pretty early.

Soon Tre sauntered in, pulling a shirt over his head. "What up."

After he high-fived Kevin and positioned himself, they started chatting about some video game he'd won this morning. Within minutes they were wide awake, and cheering together. Tre must've been the life of the party, because now, none of them could keep their mouths shut.

I kept my head down, touching my toes. When I looked over again, Chris was striding through the swinging doors with a silver whistle hanging around his neck. My heart hiccuped at the sight of him. The crease between his brows was deeply focused. Missy trailed behind him and appeared to be growling in my direction. When he waved my way, calling me over, I shuffled across the room, joining his side, along with the others.

He greeted us with a loud clap. "Good morning, Everyone," he said and took a deep breath. "Things are going to be a little different today. As you know, Calise will be here, training with us for the next few months. If you can remember your first day, you also remember how easy it was to feel left out."

The three musketeers exchanged looks.

"Play nice," he said in conclusion.

It would've been nice if there were other rookies around, so I wouldn't be the only one feeling the pressure of being a newbie.

"Alright, let's go!" Chris blew his whistle.

Everyone dropped to the floor and started doing crunches. I followed behind them, doing a series of push-ups, lunges, lifting, and short sprints. Their movements were all in sync, like Bally's Total Fitness times fifty, and all I could hear was the sound of my own lungs gasping for air. Which was fairly noticeable, since no one else was panting. Their shoulders didn't slouch. Their heads didn't hang in fatigue. Even their faces looked serene, like they were headed to go skinny-dipping at the beach.

I thought I'd still be in shape with all my previous ballet experience, but halfway into practice I crawled into one of the corners and coughed up yesterday's grilled cheese sandwiches.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Chris placed a hand on my shoulder.

"No." I bent back over.

"Listen to me, don't compare yourself," he said. "It's not a competition. That's not what this is. It's just you and me. Alright. Do the best you can."

He sent me upstairs to eat from a fruit bowl he'd made himself earlier. It helped. The spinning in my head stopped and my stomach wasn't floating anymore. These people really had their game together. I remembered Chris's advice, to not compare myself, and to focus on being good at my own rate. Which made perfect sense.

When I got back to the session, the gym party was officially over. They were exiting, damp towels wrapped around their necks. Chris halted at my side.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Better."

We followed his friends to the indoor swimming pool, which was located on the farthest end of the house next to Missy's cage. He emphasized the indoor pool was for practicing purposes only, and the outdoor pool was used for our own personal leisure.

The sight of the pool immediately quickened my adrenaline. Swimming was another one of my past ancient fortes, next to ballet. So I was hoping to reach some degree of success, and at least end this day on a high note.

Everyone, except for Chris, started removing their first layer of clothes. As they dove straight into the deep-end and splashed water across my shirt, I eagerly tossed my shoes.

Chris pulled out a chair from the table, and tapped twice on the headrest. "You can relax for now. Have a seat."

My shoulders slumped. My whole body turned into a question mark. "What? I can do this."

"I know," he replied simply. "Just watch for a little while and take some notes. Alright, let's go!" He turned back around, facing the group.

*

For the next couple of weeks, I memorized their every move, adhering to Chris's advice and jotting down notes. Watching them excessively from the side-lines did give me some insights into their personalities, based on the fluidity of their movements. Tre was the quick and impulsive one, while Kevin's moves were more aggressive. Blue was smooth and daring, like a cat with nine lives. When they came together, there was no separation between them, and no way to distinguish the best from the worst; they were simply three bold personalities meshed into one.

Chris never trained with them, so I couldn't detect his style. I knew he was the boss: simple, direct, and superior. And yet, he was didn't misuse his boss-power. He was the caretaker and gifted to be in charge.

Ever since he confronted me at the pool, his instruction stayed the same; I stayed in the back seat, while the others took the front line. As a consequence, I started going to the gym alone after nightfall, and practicing without his permission. If he wasn't going to train me, then I had to at least teach myself on my own time.

Tonight, I followed the same routine. After practicing in the gym, I ended up falling asleep near the warm-up mirrors. At a quarter past five in the morning, I opened my eyes and let out a muffled yawn, extending my arms. My fingers slid over the edges of my notebook, which rested loosely across my chest.

Having slept on a stack of yoga mats, I stared over the cracks on the top of the ceiling and continued listening to violin music on my i-Pod. This was the same playlist I used to listen to years ago, right before ballet rehearsal would start.

Even though my body was sore and numb in most places, I liked waking up in the gym and being the first one here in the morning. This showed how sincere I was about being here.

Sure this was a drastic change from my life in Beverly Hills, I had a few reasons to go along with the dramatic location shift. For one, I was happy to give Carl and Laura the space they needed to enjoy their love life. For two, I could finally properly grieve Dianne without anyone else intervening or projecting.

For three, most of all, Chris was here.

Gratitude took over and replaced every complaint I ever had about anyone. Soon my eyes drifted and grew heavy. Voices emerged from the ceiling as I stood up and shook out my legs, circling the cranks in my neck. It sounded like Kevin and Blue were upstairs already, tossing around plates of food, which was enormously loud. The click-clacking continued. Usually they got here a few minutes before Tre, and executed their normal routine like clockwork.

As I carefully rolled up the mat and carried the blue foam under my arm, walking towards the front of the mirror. For a moment, I stared at my lips, rubbing them together. Then something happened – something that should've been impossible.

My reflection didn't move.

The 'other me' on the other side of the mirror wasn't carrying anything, even though my arms were clearly (evidently) full. Her round oval eyes were widely fixed, staring back. I studied the image closer, until her lips moved . . . when mines did not.

"It's in the water," she whispered.

I woke up staring at the ceiling. I was still inside the gym where I'd fallen asleep, and lying on the mat, as though my life had rewound itself. Kevin and Blue's voices neared the basement, and I leaped from the floor, gathering my mat, and walked away from the mirrors. As I calmed my nerves, assuring myself it was only a dream and the girl in the mirror didn't really exist, I realized there was nothing to be afraid of. Last night I must've too many bowls of vegetable chili.

Still, the hairs on my neck prickled, and before I had time enough to thoroughly examine what had taken place, Blue and Kevin were entering the gym. Their discussion halted when they saw me scurrying past them, but I was too to caught in my own train of thought to care much about their thoughts or reactions.

I ran down the hallway, straight into the bathroom, and captured the edges of the sink. The dim light was comforting as I stood in front of the mirror, rinsing my face and staring at the large glass in front of me.

"Pull it together." I patiently waited for the 'other me' to reappear. Nothing happened. Some silent moments past, and still, the impossible didn't occur. My reflection didn't alter like before, or change into something unfamiliar. As my breathing evened, I realized everything was okay. All I had to do was stand tall, shake off the dust, and go back to practice.

Everyone was already warming up when I walked back inside. At that point, Chris invited me to have a seat on the sidelines (as part of our usual routine). Grabbing my notebook, I sat on the floor in a corner and drew a bunch of triangular shapes. While the others were busy doing their daily run-through, I couldn't concentrate on anything else except for that girl's face in the mirror, mocking me, telling me 'It's in the water.'

"Pull those elbows in!" Chris ordered.

Blue climbed up the rope effortlessly. As soon as she reached the top of the line, she slid back down, letting her feet kiss the ground. "How bad I do, Coach?" she asked, as if it were possible for her to do a terrible job.

Chris studied the watch and tossed her the timer.

She gawked, and then shoved his arm, like she'd just won the lottery. "No way." She ran toward the mirrors and started doing the cha-cha, making faces and cheering on her accomplishment.

This was a side of hers I'd never witnessed before. But now she was all in. The glitter in Chris's eye was priceless, and rightfully so. One of his students just made a record-breaking time, and one she obviously worked hard on getting. There was no denying the excitement they both felt in her moment of triumph.

She jumped onto Kevin's back. "Woohoo!"

"Hey, let me see that." Kevin grabbed the timer. "This is serious business."

Tre hovered behind them. "Nice work, you're like a monkey now."

"Don't be a hater, Tre. It makes you look bad," she joked. "Oops. Forgot. You can't look any worse."

Tre rolled his eyes and continued with Kevin toward the indoor pool. After catching up with the others and sitting in my notable green chair Chris had pulled out for me on my first day, I held my notebook in one hand and skimmed over notes.

"Alright, let's get focused," Chris watched them gather at the farthest end of the pool. "You know the rules. Stay inside your lane. Watch your arms. Remember, this isn't a race."

Kevin winked at Blue, which meant it was a race. For them, it was always a race. "Sure thing, Coach."

"Got it, Boss," Tre said.

"We're ready," Blue replied.

Chris explained our future assignments would include dodging beams underwater. The pool helped prepare us for that kind of security. Seeing yellow lasers shoot inside the pool wasn't like seeing glow sticks in the dark. This was the real deal. They were much larger, brighter, and more consequential. And if anyone hit a beam, the line would turn red, and everyone failed the assignment.

Of course that never actually happened. They were such a skillful impeccable group, no one ever actually made those kind of mistakes, like missing the mark. Timing and form were the only things that mattered for Blue, Tre, and Kevin. Each of them swam over these beams so easily, with wide consistent strokes, throwing one arm in front of the other.

Their rhythm was dynamic.

"Keep those chins down!" Chris ordered. "You're movin' like molasses, Kevin, let's go!"

The coach's jawline flexed. I should have been taking notes. Instead, I found myself curling my legs, listening to him give orders. Observing his backside from the corner of the table, I almost melted into a pile of chocolaty dip in front of everybody. He must've heard my thoughts. He peered over his shoulder and grabbed my gaze for a beat longer than usual, pulling us closer in an invisible way.

"That's enough for now." He blew the whistle.

"What's the matter, Coach?" Blue asked, swimming to the edge.

"Yeah, why'd you stop?" Kevin asked.

Chris turned to the others. "I said it's not a race. If you focus outside your lane, if you take one glimpse off center, that's it. That's all it takes. Get out of here. I'm taking a break."

We expected him to elaborate about his sudden change of mood and explain what prompted such strong emotion. But he stomped toward the exit, leaving the door swinging after him.

Once he was gone, Blue and Kevin started arguing and blaming one another for his calm outburst. Tre over-talked them, as though they were children, as though the outcome was entirely their fault.

I, on the other hand, used the opportunity to learn what was on Chris's mind.

*

Discovering his whereabouts wasn't a hard feat. As he stood at the top of our main hilltop, scoping the horizon, I sensed he already knew I was coming. This was his usual place to visit whenever he wanted some fresh air and needed to be alone.

His back was turned in my direction, as I treaded up the stony pavement. On any other day, I wouldn't let him enjoy his aloneness. Giving him space (sometimes) seemed like the right thing to do. However, this time was different.

Without saying a word, I reached for him, almost touching the back of his shirt. There was a moment I imagined my fingers grazing along his arm. I wondered if he could discern my closeness. With my body standing directly behind him, could he hear my heart speeding?

For a few moments, he didn't move at all. Instead he watched the pear-colored sky with a sense of wonderment. Then he turned around with a smile on his face, staring me down with those alluring brown caves. Slowly, he positioned himself to the ground.

"Have a seat with me, Calise."

I looked over in the direction of the castle, expecting the others to find us snuggling on the hill. When no one did, I knelt beside him and swallowed the small space between us.

"Hey," I finally said.

"Do you know what you want?" His question made my hands warm.

"Yes," I answered. Our exchange at the swimming pool immediately came streaming into my mind. "I respect your role as our coach. I'm really focused on my work, more than ever. I'm a complete professional...as soon as you start training me."

He grew tense, taking in my words. "How do you like being here?"

"I love it," I blurted. "I think your friends are really talented."

For some reason, my confession brought him to tears. He couldn't stop laughing. "It certainly looks that way. We think you're real talented too."

"How can you tell?" I pulled my legs closer, resting my chin across my knees. "I've been sitting down and taking notes most of the time."

There was long pause before he confessed, "I've seen you going to the gym at night."

"Oh." I turned the other way, biting my lip. "I was going to tell you about that."

"It's fine," he said reassuringly. "You can keep doing what you're doing. I have something coming up soon that'll whip you right into shape. Trust me. I know what's best for you. I know what's going to make you really good at this."

I looked ahead, admiring the lowering sun.

He was right – I had to trust him. Of course he knew what he was doing. I had to let go and accept the fact I was in good hands, after all.

"There's a reason you're watching them," he continued. "There's a reason you've only trained once. So I can see the kind of person you are."

"What kind of person am I?"

"Delicate."

My eyes moistened, taking in his word choice. "You think I am delicate? Wow."

He sighed deeply, changing the subject. "Aren't you going to ask me what you're training for?"

I was able to keep up with his quick change of subject. "You told me you're a Collector . . . that you go on assignments and collect things of high price. I figured you would tell me the rest when you're ready."

"Yes," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows. "We collect very valuable things for important people. I guess you could say we're basically giving things back to their original owners."

"What does that do?"

He started explaining himself, but my eyes were glued to the oval shape of his mouth, how it curved slightly despite the fact he wasn't smiling. At that moment, nothing was more important than being by his side; we hadn't been this close since our first night together.

"What do you get in return?" I rephrased the question.

"Balance," he responded. "We keep the balance by helping these buyers get what they want. In return, they help us, by keeping us above the radar, sort of speak. This is what keeps the peace. It keeps the balance between our kind and the outsiders."

'Outsiders' was such a unique term for him to use, I had to pause and consider his point. It must've been easy for him to call other people 'the outsiders' when he and his crew lived amongst themselves for so much of the time.

"Do you ever keep these collections for yourself?" I suddenly wondered if he'd snatched items for himself. Was he able to afford his lifestyle because of it?

"No," he clarified sharply. "We don't steal. We have everything we need here. There's nothing they could offer us from their world that would be more interesting than ours. But we are useful to each other this way."

The last word he spoke sifted oddly between us. There was some special code floating underneath his words, which I was meant to determine. But for the first time since I'd known Chris, I didn't know the answer. It could've been the subtle way he distinguished 'their world' from 'our world' that made me feel bewildered, like there was more to him than what met the eye.

"What kinds of things do you collect?"

"I'll show you everything you want to know," he answered in a mellow tone. "In due time."

'I like it here mostly because you're here,' was a thought I wanted to confess aloud. Time didn't allow it.

Chris stood up and stretched his body, extending his palm in front of me. "We should head back before they think I've left them for good." His skin was cold and rough in my hand as he lifted me from the ground. I ran straight into his chest, accidentally this time, and heat rose to my cheeks. So I walked ahead of him.

I could be a professional if that's what he wanted. His eyes had been so sincere, so full of certainty that night in Laguna Beach. The windows to his soul had spoken volumes. Now my heart was wistful, wishing I could rewind my life, back to the first night when he kissed me.
CHAPTER THREE

Something sounded like a stampede of dinosaurs coming through the window, as I yanked the scarf from my eyes and yawned. Glares from the sun beamed across the room and striped the floor with burgundy lines. I loved getting up for practice in the morning, full of vigor. I always had so much energy to share when my eyes opened again. I could start fresh and anew. Participating in these workouts and being so physically involved was the icing on the cake.

My hands stretched high above my head, strong and glorious. Waking up in other people's houses was much different from what I'd grown accustomed to over the years. I didn't even miss my old dungeon hole of a bedroom.

Today I was my day off – OH YES!

Chris said I could take a break and catch up on some good rest. Which I did without retort. Usually whenever I stayed inside the gym, their early intrusions would stir me awake and I'd never miss a practice. But last night, lucky for me, I came to bed right after my workout, instead going to the gym floor and camping out.

As I peered through the window, there was someone downstairs mowing the front yard. They were wearing blue overalls, strap suspenders, a gray cap, and way too far down for their face to be recognized. Whoever it was, they must've finished working out already – the screen on my pink i Pod read 2:13.

Even now, I wasn't accustomed to being without a cell phone. My old one was still at the other house, somewhere between the microwave and the toaster. Laura said I couldn't carry it to the operetta that night. She insisted my special accessory wouldn't go well with the dress . . . neither would my palm-sized purse that Dianne designed for me when I was twelve, because she said the purse was ugly.

Needless to say, Chris bought me a brand new everything, so I didn't have to take a step backwards in order to move forwards.

Tying on the scarlet scarf onto my head, I ran swiftly down the labyrinth and managed to find the front staircase, which still smelled of fresh tangerines, just as Chris and Kevin came through the front door with bags of groceries under their arms.

"Hey." I scurried behind them.

Kevin made his way toward the kitchen, slicking his hair back between his fingers, or more like his mo hawk braid. Chris slowed down beside me. Then he paused in his tracks and stared down at my head curiously, as though it were a bushel caught on fire. "We missed you today," he confessed.

My mind circled around our last conversation. "Really? I thought you said I could have the morning off."

"I know. We still missed you."

For a moment, we caught each other's gaze. He was unabashed and unpredictable. "Is there something I can do, like an exercise or something? I know it's my day off." I asked. "I don't mind."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

When we entered the kitchen, Kevin was already putting some of the food away, happily whistling to an unfamiliar song that was playing only inside of his head.

"Walking might be a good idea," Chris replied, handing me a box of water bottles. "There's still enough light outside. You can go to the town shop and see what they have. You'll have to walk fast."

"Yeah, she could pick up some scissors for me," Kevin added his two cents. "I forgot to get a pair."

While Kevin was going on about a pair of scissors, I thought about dinner and what we needed.

"We forgot a couple of things," Chris added. "I'll make a list." They continued putting things in the cupboards, and Chris finally handed me the paper with five items listed. "This walk is equivalent to our warm up today. Even though you didn't technically miss anything, it could help you make up for the exercise."

Kevin gave a short dark laugh and added, "Might take more than that . . ."

I shelved more bottles of water into the refrigerator, focusing on the task at hand. I wasn't going to let his comment distract me from the real reason I was here.

"Cold water's no good, Calise." Chris cued for Kevin to arrange the bottles instead of myself. So before I could blink, Kevin was already at my side, snatching the box out of my grip.

"I got this," he said.

Just then I noticed the line of piercings on his left ear and the tattoo on his forearm, and I knew he didn't take himself lightly. The tattoo on his front right shoulder was another spade, like the one knitted on the scarf, which reminded me that everyone else in this house had one, except for me.

"How far is town?" I finally asked.

Chris balled the bags together, tossing them under the sink. "Five miles."

Five miles. That was no big deal. I knew these guys were in shape and probably drank a thousand eggs for breakfast.

"I'll go now then," I replied coolly, loosening my shoulders. Sure I was the newest member here, but they were about to find out the truth about me: when it came to physical activities, I was a force to reckon with. I could handle their walk-a-thon.

"Alright," he replied, studying me closely. "One more thing." He grabbed a vitamin case from the cupboard. My name was written on the bottom. "Here are some basic supplements for you to take," he added. "All of us have them. We get different vitamins based on our personal requirements. Once you get more familiar with your body's needs, you can adjust them accordingly, and do whatever you feel is best."

I tapped a vitamin on my tongue and took it down with water. As Chris started sketching a road-map on a piece of paper, I realized the path was simply made: one road, one direction. I couldn't get lost on this route if I tried.

"There you are," he said in a low voice, handing me the paper. A hundred dollar bill was wrapped inside.

"Thanks. I should probably get going now." I waited a few beats for him to say something else. When he didn't, I stuffed the money inside my back pocket, along with the map, and marched right out of the kitchen towards the front door, running straight into Blue. She was the one dressed in ragged overalls and a tattered gray cap. She'd been the one mowing the lawn only moments ago; the person I'd seen from the attic window.

"Hey," I said without thinking. She kept walking towards the kitchen, until she saw the red scarf on my head and spun around like a great big owl with hooty eyes.

"Oh my God." she gasped reverently. "Where'd you get that?" she asked simply, holding her hips.

"Uh mm . . ."

Suddenly Kevin emerged from the corner and motioned behind us, easing his way in Blue's direction. "There's my girl!"

"Look, Kevin!" she exclaimed with her eyes blazing over my head. "She's wearing that girl's scarf."

"What are you talking about? I found this in the attic upstairs," I answered. "No one's name was on it."

Chris appeared on the scene in his warrior splendor, owning the situation. "Everything alright in here?" He leaned against the wall, folding his arms.

It was the first time Blue took her attention off me. She looked up at his figure, met his gaze, and instantly eased the course of her excitement. "No problems here, Boss," she finally answered, perfectly calm now.

"We're leaving," Kevin added reassuringly, doing his best to settle her down. He then attempted to move his girlfriend towards the living room, but she wasn't budging so easily. "Right, B?" Kevin whispered in her ear again, fishing for her full cooperation. "Come on, let's go."

Finally they both turned the corner and disappeared like shadows behind the wall without saying another word. A funeral-like silence suspended in the atmosphere as I stood with my hands on my hip, trying to summons the right explanation for what just happened.

"You alright?" Chris asked.

I nearly laughed at the question. "Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't know this scarf was going to be such a big deal."

Chris bit down on his lip. "It used to belong to an old friend. That's all. But that friend isn't here anymore." His explanation was good enough for me, at least for the time being. "You can wear it as long as you want."

"Cool, thanks. I'll be back later," I replied and walked out, shutting the door behind me.

Now that I was outside, I started contemplating if Chris meant five miles altogether, or five miles each way. He must've meant five miles altogether. He wouldn't have made an estimate and said there was enough light outside if he knew I'd get stuck in the dark.

All I had to do was walk fast, follow his directions, and not get lost in the woods. I'd make it back here in time for dinner – I think he was cooking tonight; he usually did.

On the bright side, I was in the middle of nowhere with no parents around to tell me what to do, when to come home, and who to go to the movies with. Starting over was actually the best part of being here. I could draw my own painting. This new life was a blank canvas, full of possibility, and the outcome would be whatever I wanted it to be. No more past memories to sulk over. No more pressure from Laura. Or anyone else to be something I wasn't. She wanted me to be exactly like her, throwing fancy tea parties in the yard and shopping at the most expensive stores in Beverly Hills, only to hear the sound of Carl's credit card swiping a machine. She demanded I call her 'mom' as long as I stayed under their roof, since (according to her) it was their home and not mine.

Here, I had my own voice. I was as free as the birds.

Rays from the sun glared as I motioned forward, listening to a violin play through my I Pod. The heat now was overbearing, pulsating across the dirt trail. I kicked rocks to the side with my foot's heel, trying to keep occupied, and I could already feel my shirt soaking from the inside out.

Already, it was almost five o'clock. I'd been walking through this scorching hurricane for at least two hours. I guess Chris meant five miles each way. If I'd known the journey was going to be like this, I would've snatched up one of those water bottles before heading out.

Looking upwards, I noticed the leaves were waving their noses in my direction, as I curled a finger around one of the branches, savoring the moment; I might as well enjoy Mother Nature for a little while, without any headphones.

It didn't take long for a high ringing to start going off inside my head. The buzzing was a quick sputtering, like a low hum rattling behind my eye lids. I paused in my tracks and took immediate shelter in the shade. Even shade didn't slow down the palpitation.

While steadying myself on the trail, another strange noise erupted. Girl's laughter rippled through the atmosphere. "Hello? Who's there?" I turned around.

Searching around the empty forest, I didn't feel alone. Something with incredible speed was moving swiftly at my side, and as soon as I looked over to check on its proximity, there were only more and more overlapping trees. The tall stalks of bark seemed to stare down at me with an understanding nod, like they could sense what I was going through.

"Okay, time to go." I stomped down the road while the enormous heat sunk into my surroundings.

It didn't take long to reach my destination. I found the supply store indicated on the map, and quickly dragged myself inside, listening to a cluster of bells jingle overhead. Stacks of machinery smelled like old rubber, and the potent scent of oil suffocated the walls. I wanted to forget the whole thing and turn back around to the house, empty-handed and safe. I could always come again tomorrow morning when the sun was first coming up. But that didn't happen. Someone grunted from behind the counter and disturbed this train of thought.

"Can I help you?" a young man asked. His arms were stretched above him like he'd been in the middle of some great dream, and I'd interrupted his sleep.

Approaching him, I replied, "I need everything here on this list."

He yawned and twitched his nose, sizing me up. Then he took the slip of paper and read the items, which was when I realized he didn't have a shirt on. His bird chest was tanned and thin underneath his farmer overalls and silver suspenders. He smiled hugely, slicking his hair back and rubbing his stomach. The grin he gave me was crooked, and if it weren't for his sandy hair sticking half to the side from sleeping on the job, he'd be an undeniable cutie. He wasn't wearing shoes. His feet were mostly covered in soot marks. He probably smelled exactly like the shop.

The moment he neared a pile of equipment at the farthest end of the store, moving slower than a snail in salt, and I followed him, watching and waiting as he fumbled through the tangled cords. Listening to my foot tap the floor was a great way to keep my mind occupied on something else other than the heat.

Finally, he found the five items on the list and charged me ninety-two dollars. "Ohhhk. Here we are. There you go. All set." The look of triumph spread across his face.

Knowing full well I was being overcharged, I handed him a hundred-dollar bill anyway and slapped it on the counter. "Keep the change."

His smile softened. "You must be new around here."

"Is it that obvious?" I looked over my shoulder at the door's entrance. "You wouldn't believe it. I walked five miles and didn't bring something cold to drink. Do you have any water?"

His eyes widened. "Yeah, sure. I think I should have something. Let me check," he replied, walking to the mini-fridge behind the counter. He returned with a cold bottle of water and handed it to me. "That's a nice scarf you're wearing, by the way. Another girl had one like it. There was a spade in the middle like yours, and it was the same color, too. Come to think of it, you look like her."

I nodded and leaned in. This scarf was getting more attention than Charlie Sheen. "Do you remember her name?"

"Sorry. That was a while ago," he admitted.

"It's my first time in Ohio."

He took a breath and sighed. "I can tell. I know everybody in this town. I would've recognized if you'd been here before. Besides, I know you're not that same girl – she'd be a bit older than you. But I remember she was real pretty. You can count on me to never forget a pretty face." He winked. "Have a good day, Miss. Try to get home before the sun goes down."

I realized I wanted to talk to him longer, and find out more about this girl who looked like me. But there was much time left for conversation. I continued out the door and waved. There was a hazy gleam lowering over the parking lot, forming shadows on the street. It suddenly dawned on me, I'd be walking in the dark woods alone. Chris warned me this would happen if I didn't walk fast enough. There wasn't enough light outside to go on a ten-mile walk; there was barely enough to finish five. Now the only thing left on the horizon was a strand of orange blanketing the clouds.

Following the distorted pavement, I marched on the road without streetlights and drew in a strong breath. There was still enough time to ask shop-boy to give me a ride, but I wasn't sure how Chris would react to me bringing an unannounced visitor to his secret hideaway castle and playing hostess to some guy he didn't know.

I'd take my chances walking.

Just as my mind was full of certainty, two headlights approached. It looked like the . . .

"Woo! Yes!" I nearly leaped out of my skin. Life was on my side. All the mental images of bears and wildlife quickly evaporated into thin air as the van wobbled in my direction and halted at my feet.

"Get in." Tre tapped on the wheel, staring me up and down with his cool black shades on. He then flipped his phone open, and answered, "Hey. Yeah, I got her."

I wanted to ask him if Chris was one he was talking to on the other line, but I knew it must've been him, otherwise Tre wouldn't have known where to find me. Chris must've saw it was getting dark outside and requested for Tre to do the handy work.

I naturally wanted to thank Tre for his act of kindness, but before I could get the words out, he turned up the radio so loud, he drowned out any hope of us having intelligent dialogue.

So I sat back and enjoyed the ride.

In a matter of minutes we were parked in front of the mansion. By this time, it was dark enough I almost missed the outline of leafage looming over the driveway. They looked more like black blotches sealing the night. Even the moon was fuller, striping the sides of the roof with pastel lines and showing its elegant glow.

The aroma of cooked peppers filled my nostrils the moment we walked inside, reminding me I hadn't eaten all day. As Tre shuffled upstairs, I made my way toward the kitchen with only one thing in mind – food. The rest of the house was undisturbed. The counters were spotless, except for a bowl at the center of the table, wrapped in aluminum foil. I peeled it back and found white rice mixed with broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, onions, and bell peppers. Chris had obviously made dinner, and saved a small portion for my tasting. It was nice coming back and finding I'd been remembered.

Afterwards, I made my way back to the attic and heard low mumblings coming from the end of the hall. They were barely audible at first, but I managed to follow them to the last room on the left. Checking both ends of the hall, I laid my ear against the door and found Blue sitting on top of the bed with her arms folded.

"Can you believe he put her in the attic? I could literally scream. He never brings anyone to this house, let alone the attic. He could've put her in the other room or something, and he didn't."

"Why are you so shocked?" He asked the question, even though his mind was already made. "He likes her. That's the main reason he's not going to take her to a room where the furnace is busted so she could freeze to death. He's thinking with his feelings, if you know what I mean."

"That's not the point, Kevin" she said. "I'm shocked because she's wearing Jennifer's scarf and he doesn't care she has it on. It's not weird to him. Did you see the way he reacted downstairs? It's like he wants her to have it. He was so happy to see her. Both of them . . . in their web of bliss. We don't even exist to Chris anymore."

"Get over it." Kevin snickered. "You heard what Chris said; this girl is one of us now. She is supposed to be here," he added.

"Yeah, I heard what he said," she agreed. "She'll be one of us at some point," Blue admitted nonchalantly. "She's still becoming. And based on Chris's reaction tonight, I'm almost certain she's the one we've been waiting for."

"Now you're talkin," Kevin added. "That's about the smartest thing you've said all night."

When they stopped talking, I slunk away from the almost invisible crevice and quickly pounced to the other side of the house. Perfect. Early for what? I wondered. What exactly did Blue mean when she said I hadn't 'turned yet?' Was this some kind of secret way of saying I wasn't an official member until I had my first mission?

What did they mean when they said, I was the one they'd been waiting for?

What was up with the attic anyway? Even Chris looked at it strangely when he first took me up there, like the room had a life of its own. Its very stature seemed to liven up his spirits.

His choice to put them there made perfect sense. If the other rooms were taken up, and the other one was without a furnace, then the attic was the only one place for me to stay. Of course Chris would put me there. Anyone with a good bit of sense would've done the same thing.

However, I didn't mind the accusations. Our deep feelings for each other probably did make us appear as though we were living in our own world. Which was true, and perfectly okay with me.

As I started heading back toward the garret, there weren't any rooms along the corridor on my way to the attic. Cobwebs collected and weaved in sharp corners. Strings of them draped from the ceiling and made cryptic designs. Wedges in the floor made me stumble more than once, and this time I wasn't doing it on purpose. The ends of the hall were a lit by artificial candles as I curved the last corner.

"Is someone there?" I paused, peering over my shoulder.

Had Blue followed me up here to talk me some more about the scarf? But when I turned around, no one was there. Still, I wanted to run into Chris's bedroom and crawl into his king sized bed and dive into his arms.

Something was up with this house.

Ever since we'd pulled into this driveway, peculiar things had been happening.

An invisible girl laughed in the woods. To top everything off, the boy at the shop said I looked exactly like a girl who wore a red scarf like this one a long time ago. She'd be older by now. These weren't random coincidences. Someone used to stay in the attic. Her initials were J.E. And I was starting to think this girl I'd never met had something important to say.
CHAPTER FOUR

Half of my luggage consisted of pretty womanly things. The other half were punk rock outfits I snatched off the rack to fill up my bags with anti-color. Lately, I'd been in the mood for something earthy and sensual, like this new black sweater with hearts on the collar. I gathered silk dresses from the satchel, stuffing them into the closet and making a mental note to wear one for Chris, so he could see my lady-like side. I didn't need a skirt to train in. But now it was my day off, I had an excuse.

Rummaging through my luggage, I remembered the night he handed me these suitcases. Throwing on tights and my excellent black sweater, I pulled my hair into a bun and headed out. Strands of my hair were still damp from last night's bath, with the scent of apricot shampoo tangled on the ends. Dianne shared that secret years ago when I was still learning about the birds and the bees; there was something undeniably attractive about a woman with fruit on her skin. Hopefully Chris would notice. Apricot shampoo did wonders, and I'd missed him.

The thought of soggy Fruit Loops had me racing toward the kitchen. Chris was already there, leaning against the counter, wearing his usual black sports gear. He was also drinking a tall glass of something, which strongly resembled a green leaf milkshake. As I slid onto one of the stools, folding my hands together, I stared over the sliced vegetables.

"Hey." I sat on one of the stools and glimpsed over the finished product.

He rinsed off a glass, placing it in the cupboard. "How was your night?"

Besides hearing a girl laughing on a dirt trail, running away from an invisible something in the hallway, and living in J.E.'s attic. "Really good," I replied, seeing the bright side. "Thanks for having Tre pick me up last night. If you hadn't helped out, I probably would've gotten here really late."

"Do you want some?" he asked, pointing to the blender.

Browsing over the celery sticks, I replied, "Um, yeah, I'll try it out. Looks very green-ish. Do you have any . . ." I paused and smiled. "Any bacon? I mean, avocados. I love avocados. By the way, your food was really good last night."

He held back a very attractive grin, and turned towards the sink. "You can relax today, Calise. The rest of us have a meeting in about an hour. Do you think you'll need anything before we go?"

The fact that Chris was leaving me here alone in his house, was an honor, and an unexpected adventure. He was trusting me to overlook their things, and I was willing to show him I was ready to be of service.

"I'll be fine," I replied simply. "Don't worry about me. What's this meeting for?"

"Just inside business," he replied. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" There were some rings around his eyes, most likely from a rare lack of sleep. "That's a nice sweater you're wearing," he added seemingly unaware of my giddiness. "I've never seen you in it."

"Oh." My smile stretched far and wide. "This old thing. Not that old actually. Anyways, yeah, I can stay here. It'll give me a chance to get to know Missy. She's in her cage right?"

"Yes," he replied. "Don't worry about feeding her or taking her out. She's already eaten."

"Fantastic. That's fine with me."

He grinned. "Perfect," he added and leaned back.

"I'm glad you're a health nut," I admitted. "I'd always wanted to hire a (hot) guy person as my nutritionist but never got around to it."

He studied a moment and asked, "Did you really ask where's the bacon?"

I blushed. "I was kidding."

While removing the lid from the blender, an amused smile twisted over his lips. "We don't eat meat this time of year. But there's some other food in the fridge if you want breakfast. Lots of avocados."

"Oh." I spotted cereal on top of the refrigerator and reached my arms to the rim. Needless to say, my scrawny fingers couldn't reach. "This is my thing right here."

"Do you need help?" Chris beat me to the punch, grabbing the box of Fruit Loops and planting breakfast on the counter.

"Don't worry about me." I opened the bag. "I'll be fine. I might even watch some television and catch up on the good shows."

He shook his head, as though he were possibly happy with his decision to bring me here. "There's something I want to show you later on, when we get back. I've been meaning to show it to you, but haven't gotten around to it."

"Cool. I'll be here."

He leaned forward and grabbed a bowl from the shelf, setting it beside the cereal box. This time when he hovered, it felt like he was purposely trapping me against the counter. I didn't know if he had any intentions for doing this, but my mind raced with him so close behind me.

"Is there anything else I should do to prepare for tomorrow?" I asked, and a lump formed in my throat as I slowly turned to him.

"Just relax."

As I faced him, I could feel my lips parting. Even with his face drained and weary, I wanted to touch him. I wanted to . . .

"Hey, Boss."

. . . jump out of my skin when Kevin popped up out of nowhere, heading straight to the refrigerator. Where the heck did he come from? I didn't even see him walk into the kitchen. I suddenly wondered how long he'd been standing there, and if he saw anything at all, like Chris fencing me against the counter. He probably saw the whole showdown. Now he was looking between us weird, like he'd caught his daddy kissing Mrs. Santa Claus.

Blue quickly rushed over and sat in one of the chairs, grabbing a pear from the basket and bringing it to her mouth. "Morning, Boss."

Chris strolled beside them. "Good morning, Kevin, Blue."

"Tre takes forever." Blue rubbed her forehead. "Can't we just leave without him? He always does this every time, and we're always late."

"Slow your roll, B." Tre swung around the corner. "You know I'm always on time, Girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. Lateness is your eternal companion, Tre."

Tre was wearing a jersey, heavy blue jeans, and a cherry cap with NYC on the flap. Red was a good choice for him, since it brought out his brown complexion.

"You can't rush perfection," he added and gave Chris a quick nod. "I'm ready, Boss."

"See what I mean? It's always when he's ready. Never at the right appropriate time," Blue complained, rising from her seat.

Kevin laughed and shook his head, leading Blue out the kitchen by her waist.

When Chris didn't move, I drew near his side. He waited for the front door to shut before he pulled out a mobile gadget from his back pocket.

"This is for you." The device was petite, upscale, and definitely not sold in stores. "My number's stored in there for emergencies. This shouldn't be used to call friends or your family, or for them to call you. If you want to speak to anyone, tell me. I'll let you use the phone in my office."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to call my family?"

The look he gave me was quizzical, as though I'd told him something funny. "You can do whatever you want," he clarified "It's up to you how close you want to be with your parents."

I nodded and looked down. The gadget he'd given me was a small, square box with nothing but a green button on the front. "How am I supposed to use this? I can't see any of the numbers."

He pressed the button and watched the square box turn into a regular cell phone. I didn't know how to feel about getting permission to call my parents. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to call them at all. "Thank you for this."

Staring down at his watch, he responded, "We'll be back later. If something comes up, don't be afraid to call. Also try to stay out of things," he added, pulling the door behind him, as though he knew I planned on going through his things.

From the curtain's edge, I watched him press against the gusts of wind and climb into the passenger's seat next to Kevin. They spun out of the driveway in a hurry, swerving and going about their way. In the same breath, I turned around and listened to the forceful breeze whipping in all directions, making the house creak and groan. Evergreens swayed and crashed into each other.

A foggy mist blocked out the sun. I'd been looking forward to spending some leisure time with Chris, but the meeting came up, a meeting I hadn't been invited to, and I was fine with it. The pretty black sweater was worn by me for less than ten minutes. No one was here long enough to notice the cool violet hearts on the collar, except for him.

Chris did notice. Which was more than enough to make me smile again. The apricot shampoo had worked. This was definitely something to be grateful for.

"Thank you, Mom."

As I held my arms and rubbed them, I figured being alone would be most useful tonight. On the bright side, it was an opportune time to investigate. I wanted to revisit the portrait in Chris's bedroom and find out why that interesting face kept popping up in my head, reappearing like an unending daydream.

But when I got to his room, the double doors were locked. A small device was cleverly camouflaged in the lumber of the door, a sort of electronic pad that required a pass code. I bit my lip. There were too many storage facilities and too many banks in America for someone's room to be bolted up like this.

If something was that valuable, it should've been placed in a facility that specialized in locking things up, not systematically buried in his bedroom. Leaving the hall, I wanted to laugh at his request for me to 'stay out of things' as though I had any choice in the matter; he'd already made certain I couldn't get inside his room. For now.

There were six rooms altogether, including the attic. I tried opening the other four rooms, but they were locked as well. There went my quest. At least they didn't have an Inspector Gadget system like the one guarding Chris's bedroom.

By the end of the day, I ended up treating myself to more cereal and a warm bath, wrapping the scarf around my head and soaking in the tub. Warm salts swirled around my body, melting away the accumulating thoughts. Foam kissed my chin as I stared back at my reflection in the tub's chrome trim. This time, when I exhaled, it was deeper than usual. The tub could've swallowed me into oblivion, and I would've enjoyed the water engulfing me.

My string of consciousness glided into another world.

Sliding underwater, I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of liquid filling my ears. Flashbacks from the the musical streamed across my mind. Within moments of being under, I could see the woman's performance again. She had the entire audience spellbound with her riveting song, and it seeped into the core of me. Her voice climbed higher. Since the operetta originated in Italy and the cast spoke little English, her words were difficult to understand. But I comprehended beauty. This song was a rare gem, lifting me above the crowd and awakening my spirits.

Moments later, the flashback was over. I climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the sink, wiping the mist from the mirror. My appearance was the same as it'd been yesterday, except there was a peculiar quality in my face; a slight glow lurked beneath my skin, making it almost transparent. There was also a strange mark on my top left shoulder, which I outlined with one finger, trying to remember if I'd bumped into anything that would cause the skin to break. But there was nothing; not even soreness to give it away.

After putting on black sweats and a t-shirt, I realized the door was cracked open, and I hadn't unlocked it. Before I could think much about this occurrence, I hung the towel onto the door's hanger and walked over into the hall. The attic door was closed, and my gaze narrowed to a trail of shoe prints on the ground.

"Who's here?" I held the door and searched each end of the hall for a response.

Their stained prints led me straight down the eventful labyrinth. As I followed them closely, I listened to the wood groan beneath my feet. I realized being fully alert was a natural consequence of being inside such a colorful environment.

Thumping echoed from downstairs and vibrated against the walls. As they grew louder, it sounded like someone was pacing across the entrance. I reminded myself to take slow, steady breaths.

Turning the corner, I peeked through the large main hall. The door was open, and flapping against the wall; it'd been responsible for making the thumping noise. Once I turned around and saw the shoe prints were gone, I was led to believe I had imagined them. While seeking to find the marks that I'd been following from the bathroom, I ended up searching every room in the house. Sure enough, the prints disappeared. This house had a mind of its own, just like the attic.

Here I was, being welcomed by some strange apparition in an attrited mansion. Here I was, being trained to be a professional Collector . . . with this unidentified force hovering my trail. Something (or someone) was out there, watching me, waiting for the perfect time to make a move. I wasn't wrong. I could tell by the way my neck hairs stood on end.

And yet, the logical part of my brain was convinced this was nothing but mere excitement, coming from the roaring winds which were pounding against the rooftop. That would explain the shoe print hallucination. I wanted to believe that more than I wanted to believe the shoe prints evaporated into thin air. Either way, I raced to the door with the intent of shutting it.

Instead of sealing the door, I took a breath of fresh air. The wind was harsher than it looked and blew me halfway down the steps. I ended up traveling across the driveway and getting a better view of the sky. Clouds of mist fused together and looked like the beginning of a tropical storm.

Right then, I made a hopeful plea that Chris and his friends would be okay out there, driving around in this kind of weather.

As I headed back inside, the scarf whirled above my head, circling and forming a mini twister. The draft carried it higher, out my reach, and I leaped up, almost snagging it between my fingers. Then the cloth escaped my grip, soaring into the forest.

"Great."

Treading across loose gravel, I noticed there was a tunnel-like area on the path where foliage thrashed. Dust whirled and made a transparent screen. My foot crushed over sticks as I tried to find where the scarf had gone. That's when I saw it lying on some boscage.

Taking a deep breath and dashing onto the open passageway, I quickly snatched the scarf from the shrubbery and wrapped it twice around my wrist. That's when the murmurs began to take their course. Passing winds started sounding less like drums, and more like gentle whispers calling my name.

Calise . . .

CHAPTER FIVE

Music thundered. The smell of cinnamon woke me up. I was on the couch with one leg hanging from the edge and a comforter over my face; one I didn't put there. This was enough to send me flying off the sofa. What the heck? Where'd the green-checkered quilt come from?

In one gigantic leap, I pulled the curtain back and saw the van was missing. The others weren't back yet from the meeting, and couldn't have turned on the radio or placed this blanket on top of me while I was asleep.

The antique clock above the television read twenty minutes passed noon. Hours passed since Chris and the others left me here with the double - 07 cell phone and the house full of personality. I remembered taking a bath and following the non-existent footsteps down the stairwell, chasing the red scarf into the woods and finding a mesmerizing cocoon along the road, only to discover the trail was watching me. An unseen force had been there, for sure, holding my legs down.

Then I came back here, grabbed my favorite novel and got comfortable on the sofa, in order to get my mind off things. I ended up reading myself to sleep. After wiping my eyes and sitting on the edge of the coffee table, I knew this wasn't a dream. The book I'd started reading earlier was face-down on the floor, worn and curled around the edges. Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, which I proudly read more than eleven times, served as my tranquility in the passing storm.

Despite the van being gone, I felt someone was here in the house. And yet, I didn't have much time to ponder who. The warm scent of cinnamon drew me down the hallway. Round fluffy cinnamon rolls awaited on a crystal platter, along with slices of bacon at their sides. I got right down to business, chewing on two strips at a time, until I realized what it wasn't. I spit the gunk back out onto the plate. This looked like bacon and smelled like bacon. But this was not real bacon.

"What the heck are these people eating? PlayDoh?" I remembered Chris mentioning they didn't eat meat this time of year. So what the heck was in my mouth? At least the rolls were edible, except for the frosting, which tasted like rubber goo from a sugar-free cookbook.

"Geesh."

I motioned towards the patio as a gentle waft passed through the curtains. The lights inside the pool dazzled through the surface, and rap music blared through the speakers. Tre was sitting at the poolside with his feet dangling in the water, talking on the phone. He didn't seem to notice me standing there, because he was so excited about whatever topic they were discussing. There wasn't any sign of Chris around. He must've dropped them off while I was asleep, and then headed back out to run errands. It would explain the van being gone. I also had a hard time wrapping my brain around Tre, Kevin, or Blue making a huge breakfast.

Later on when nightfall approached, I eventually changed clothes and returned downstairs. The music was off and the house was calmer now that the storm passed. My book was still on the floor near the couch, and when I went to pick it up, I could sense someone in my peripheral. Chris was in the entranceway with his head titled against the wall, wearing an open flannel shirt and rugged blue jeans.

He was most fine.

"When did you get back?" I asked.

The black circles around his eyes were gone, and there was not trail left behind to be remembered. "I've been here," he uttered. "Our meeting was shorter than expected, so we came back early. I didn't mean to startle you."

"You don't startle me."

"Do you like ice cream?" He waved a large carton.

I examined the treat and clasped my book shut. "Sure."

I wanted to add, ice cream would perfectly take my mind off of the disappearing shoe prints I'd seen on the staircase and the whispers I'd heard in the woods, which I'd already vowed not to tell him about. I was here to be at his side, and to be a Collector. That's it. That was my focus.

Making our way toward the kitchen, he noticed the book in my hand. "What are you reading?"

I revealed the front cover.

"Oh yes. I heard of that one," he said enthusiastically. "How is it?"

"Only extraordinary."

There was a comfortable silence between us as we entered the kitchen side by side. I pulled out a stool from the farthest end of the counter and watched him take down two bowls from the shelf.

"I like your tattoo," I complimented the unusual dark inked shape. It was the same spade I'd found on Kevin's arm. "What does the spade mean exactly?"

He didn't answer right away, but served three scoops of ice cream into each bowl and brought the final serving to his mouth.

"I thought sugar wasn't allowed," I reminded him, openly recounting the time Tre threw my candy bar out of the window.

"It's organic."

"Cheater," I joked. "Are your friends still here? I saw Tre hanging out by the pool earlier."

He nodded and replied, "Yeah, they're upstairs. You were asleep when we got here this morning. . . I didn't want to wake you up, so I brought down one of my comforters."

The thought of his gesture made me turn away to stare at the elegant vase of flowers on the table. "Thanks. I'm glad it was you and not some psycho ghost trying to scare me," I joked again, even more easily this time.

"Ha."

"I didn't see the van outside."

He peered over his shoulder. "Sometimes we park on the side of the house," he replied. "It depends on who's driving. Was everything alright here? Leaving you alone wasn't on my to-do list."

Shaking my head, I responded, "Yeah, it was fine. I was perfectly alone and incapable of meddling."

"Missy didn't escape her cage?"

I shook my head. "No."

He watched me, taking me in. "What else did you do while we were gone? Besides read your book?" he asked.

"That's it," I confessed, circling my spoon. "There wasn't much to choose from. Everything's bolted up like a safe house."

He laughed whole-heartedly. "I'll be sure to leave everything unbolted the next time." Chris's humor was dynamic enough to be on stage.

"What'd you expect?" I asked. "There wasn't a car to drive around. It's not like I can go anywhere or call anybody."

A simple squint captured the rest of his face. "You could've gone to the gym and practiced. Didn't you say you used to be a gymnast?"

"Ballet." The way he remembered the smallest of details about my life, was leading me to believe he was a properly nurtured socialite. "Wow, I did tell you everything. It's true. When I was younger, Dianne signed me up for ballet classes. I was really into it when I was twelve. After she died, I stopped going altogether. Which was excellent news for Carl. Since he declared it was unladylike for a girl to be able to do the splits, or lift her legs in the air."

Chris was amused by my old talent. "I think it's ladylike. It's good to have that kind of experience under your belt in this line of work."

I grinned at his acute forwardness. "I don't know how useful it's going to be for me today. You've seen me. Just a delicate blob of goo," I teased and repeated, "Delicate. Delicate."

He nodded reassuringly. "Give it some time. It'll kick in." With that motivational boost, he stood up from the stool and continued towards the living room. "Come on, I want to show you something."

"Only if it has to do with lock-picking." I said jokingly, batting my eyes and hoping he'd catch wind. "I'm kidding."

"I think you'll like this better," he said.

Without hesitation, I jumped from the stool and trailed behind him at an even distance, ready to see what he had in store. If he had something cooler than jacking locks, I was eager to see what he was talking about. He obviously wanted to show me something cool, and I liked seeing cool things. Whether it was a pet beetle or a hidden burial ground; it didn't matter one iota, as long as we were doing things together.

He led us toward another room below the basement. I didn't know what to expect crossing into the storage room. The space was full of tools, worn out tires, and smells that reminded me of the old town shop, along with the boy who worked there.

Everything else was lined up along the wall and neatly stacked into piles. Trampling across, we came face-to-face with a door that had a security pad. It resembled the one on Chris's bedroom. I was starting to think maybe he had a lock on his pillow as well. So far, he was meticulous about how he wanted his environment.

"The house locks on its own whenever we leave," he finally said as though he knew what my mind was saying. "It's an automatic trigger. Just so you know. It's nothing personal."

"Oh." That was good news. Their regular routine was normal, and their house locked on itself (so-to-speak) whenever they left for errands, and apparently had nothing to do with me personally being here. "Great."

He paused in front of the door and signaled for me to turn around so he could type in his oh-so-private password. Finally, the door snapped open. "Watch your step," he said, following slightly behind me.

I walked over the ledge and continued down the corridor. When we reached the end of the hall, the extended room was a plethora of colorful lights glistening in four corners, flickering against the walls.

"What's all this?"

He wandered to a luminous area. "Have a look."

In each corner, there was a unique pile of diamonds. I couldn't help following the rainbow of colors emitting from every side. "Can I touch them?"

He nodded. "Go ahead. See for yourself."

My jaw dropped in plain disbelief. I'd seen a lot of money in my day, lots of nice cars and jewelry, and I knew from experience having money wasn't everything life could offer. It was a nice accessory. And yet, it was something about holding these many diamonds in my hand and seeing those stones glitter all around, at once. It took my breath away.

Looking around, I saw another larger crystal sitting on an isolated stand in the center of the room, shielded in glass. By this time, Chris reappeared from the darkness and carefully removed the shell, allowing the glow from the crystal to shoot upwards.

"Is this yours?"

"Most of it," he answered and crouched to the floor. "Some of it is for our clients.

"That's right," I said. "We collect things and return them to their original owner."

He smiled. "They pay us well for getting the job done."

I slid my fingers across the sparkling glass. "Are diamonds the only things you collect?"

He shook his head. "Diamonds aren't as valuable as they look. Not really," he explained. "Sometimes we take gold, or paintings. Other times we take suitcases of - "

"Money," I finished the line for him. "Who gets to make all these rules? I mean, who gets to decide what missions you go on with these important people?"

He looked up, studying my face. "We have a certain ingrained order here. In this house, I'm in charge of running it. Everyone gets to do a special task. Once or twice a year we'll go on an assignment as a group." His explanation was thorough and clear. "Do you remember the first night we met?"

I nodded.

"After the show we talked for a while," he continued. "I told you about the stash I'd picked up from a guarded room. Well, here they are," he confessed, instantly pointing to a large stack of lovely sparkling gems, which were as much beautiful as they were entrancing. "When I saw you," he admitted again. "I couldn't stay away from you. I should've left sooner. I could've made it out. There was a moment I could've disappeared."

"But you didn't."

My mind drifted back to the moment I opened my eyes. Chris was the first image I saw, and what a lovely image he was staring up at me like I was the his long lost love being found, like his precious darling.

By the night's end, we shared our innermost confessions. I showed him a picture of my deceased mom, which was still enclosed in a blue locket around my neck. In return, he shared his reason for being at the theater, and all the benefits of being a Collector. He'd clapped his hands lightheartedly and said, 'Welcome to my world.'

Now I found his gaze, searching from the remnants of what had transpired between us. "You're so casual about this," I admitted. "I could always run off and tell the cops."

"I thought you're here because you wanted to be."

"I am," I answered. "But I can still change my mind."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"For someone you don't know?"

"That's the thing," he interrupted. "I know you quite well."

The certain way he claimed to know me was mind-boggling. He had no doubts about our arrangement whatsoever. He was pure confidence. I could tell from the way he never hesitated. "Why the woods then? You and your friends can clearly afford to train somewhere more sophisticated."

"We could." He smiled and looked up. "But that would defeat the purpose, since we're using the open space here to practice and train. I'm only showing you this because you asked me to," he said, reminding me of this favor. "I'm showing you what you'll be working for. You'll see. Once you get into the groove of things, like how you've been doing, it'll get easier."

Browsing over my new sparkling environment, I replied, "Thanks for showing me your museum. It's really beautiful."

Hearing this, he pressed a button on the wall, which allowed the ceiling to open wide. The night was strikingly boundless, twinkling in every direction. My gaze drowned in its luster . . . its perplexing formation. For several moments, I was in awe of the rainbow of darkness, exuding from the very ground we stood on.

"We don't keep the stars in our pockets," he uttered. "We look into the sky and stare at them."

When he said those words, as amicable as they were, I was surprised at my reaction. Tears swelled in my eye sockets and dared to force themselves down.

"What are you thinking?" He took my hand, and started drawing over the lines on my palm. "You're not alone here."

It was nice seeing his comforting side again. There was something so brave inside of him, so spirited, that was naturally being rubbed off on me. And I liked it. The intimate way he found my gaze was sexy. He was so grounded and rooted and intelligent. No wonder lovers were looking for the very thing we had.

Looking up to him and admiring him the way I did, was exactly the whole point to everything else. His sparkle made everything else around us sparkle.

"Is there anything else you want to show me?" I asked gratefully, wiping my eyes.

Suddenly he stood up and stretched, and then covered the crystal. "Nope," he replied simply. "That's it for tonight. You should get some rest."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning." I ran out before he could respond, or before he noticed my blushed face. I knew there was nothing he could do to bring Dianne back, and I wouldn't ask him to. She was shining bright in the sky tonight. So were we.

I was crying, because, lately, I was starting to feel her presence more than ever before.

And I didn't feel alone anymore.

CHAPTER SIX

The sun nestled behind a line of trees, and I watched the three musketeers jog up the hill with Chris hot on their trail. Sitting on the porch steps, I admired their impeccable fitness. I wanted nothing more than to participate in their daily run, but Chris insisted I relax today and take notes.

As I stared at the crow statue sitting on the bottom step, the monument was grim resting on a platter that had the initials 'JE' carved on the back. I was about to study the statue further when I realized I'd left my notebook by the pool. The last thing I needed was for Blue, Tre, or Kevin to get their hands on my private workout journal – I'd written plenty of notes about them, amongst other things.

Without a second thought, I ran into the basement to the indoor swimming pool and found my journal resting on the floor beside my usual chair. The pen was clasped between the pages, so it was fair to assume no one had perused through them.

I took the notepad under my arm.

On my way to exit, I was boggled by the incredible sound of water splashing. The commotion was most definitely coming from the pool, and I quickly spun around to make sure what I was seeing and hearing made sense. After I dropped my notebook on the floor, loose papers sashayed in the air, back and forth, and landed on the ground.

As I carefully followed the noise, ready to see what was waiting on the other side, the same feeling of being watched came over me. I neared the edge of the swimming pool, in order to confront the spectacle. While browsing over each end of the natatorium, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. No one was here. No ripples met the surface to validate the splash I was hearing. I moved closer to the edge.

As soon as I looked down and saw a dark, anonymous figure floating beside the wall, I didn't know what think. The figure was the size of a vase, facing up. I studied the wings made out of stone, wings that shouldn't have been floating. With a slow cautious step, I leaned forward and saw the same crow statue I'd seen on the porch steps. Its weight should've made it sink straight to the bottom. But lo and behold, it was here drifting on the surface.

"What the? You've got to be kidding me."

Before I could blink, the crow's eyes opened. Large, black wings flapped against the water. Its mouth dropped into an enormous shriek. "Gronnnkkk!"

I fell backwards and landed against the papers. Grabbing my sheets and throwing them back inside the notebook, I bolted for the exit. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" I expected the bird to fly over me and make its presence known, but as soon as I fled to the door, my hand turned over the knob, and a new, unusual silence settled over the room. The bird's cry had stopped, and so had the splashing. There was nothing chasing after me.

I paid close attention to my chest going up and down. If the shoe prints weren't real, or the girl inside the mirror, or the whisperings I'd heard in the woods, then this wasn't real either. I was just gradually losing my mind.

With a fierce determination, I stomped right over to the exact spot where I'd been standing . . . where I looked inside the pool. My reflection was here, but the bird was gone. Great. I couldn't believe I'd witnessed an inanimate object floating inside of Chris's swimming pool. A blob of cement literally stared at me, introduced himself, and then flapped its wings like a real live bird, then disappeared into the realm of nothingness.

"This cannot be happening."

I sprinted upstairs, straight out the front door. The crow statue was sitting on the porch step where it'd been the whole time. It hadn't flown to the pool and back again. Something like that would've been impossible. Everything else seemed to be spinning out of control.

Seeking comfort from the sky, I proclaimed. "What's really happening? Just let me see the truth." I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts.

*

Later I ended up treading along the shapely path, towards the other end of the hill, which led inside the woods. As predicted, the others were warming up with Missy in their usual spot. Large trees enveloped the area and shielded us from the sun's glare. I took a moment to appreciate the shade.

"All set?" Chris strutted over, stashing his cell phone into his pocket and tugging on the end of Missy's chain.

I wondered who he'd been calling if everyone was here already. He said we were only supposed to use the cell phones to call each other. Did I miss something? He pulled rags from his back pocket and handed them out.

"I was born ready, Coach," Blue answered, taking the blue rag. She stuffed the material into her back pocket and lunged forward, spiking her fingers in the soil. Looking behind her, she caught Missy's gaze. "Bite my ass and you're a dead kitty."

Missy huffed and waited for Chris to loosen the thick silver chain around her neck, so she could give Blue something to really talk about. "Ready, set. Go!" Chris shouted. Dust swirled from the bottom of Blue's sneakers, and she bolted headlong into the forest.

The object of this exercise was to collect the five black bags situated in the five neighboring trees without losing the colored rag hanging from their pocket. That meant we had to outrun Missy. Missy's job was to snatch the rag off their pockets and bring it back to Chris. They had five minutes to complete the task. It usually took them under three.

"Go get her." Chris knelt beside Missy. The pearl-colored beast purred at the stroke of his hand, and in that split second, showed she was loyal to him. She wanted to please him in the same way we all did. As soon as Chris unleashed Missy, we watched her sprint forward like a cheetah on wings. He turned to me. "You'll need to spend more time with her. It'll make your training a lot easier."

"Really?" Blue was warning Missy about biting her on the ass and they'd only known each other for years . . .

"You're not afraid, are you? I can't imagine you being afraid of anything," Chris asked smoothly.

"No way," I said, gritting my teeth. "Why would I be afraid of a tiger twice my size? No reason. Animals love me."

"She's lying," Kevin said. "If Missy's tail swings the wrong way, she'll be getting on a plane to California. Aint that right, Valley Girl?" He stared at me, waiting for a response.

I shook my head and turned the other way. "You're wrong, Kevin. And I surely won't be walking around here with swollen teeth marks on my ass. Like I said, animals love me."

Kevin smiled, stretching his shoulder. "Good one." Then he turned around. "Here she comes! Woo! My girl's on a roll!"

Chris checked the timer and frowned.

Like I said, they were fast. They almost never broke a sweat. Every practice was basically drubbed into their heads. But none of them were this fast. I hadn't blinked enough times before I looked up and saw Blue racing in our direction. None of the black bags were in her hand, though, and there wasn't any sign of Missy chasing after her. Then she did something that shocked us all. She stopped running.

"Hey, Coach!" she yelled across the trail, waving her arms. "You might wanna see this."

*

Blue hadn't said a word since we started following her, and I didn't know what to expect, striding over to the other side of the forest. The perplexed looks on their faces said they didn't know what was happening either. Her breathing was also heavier than usual. She was trying to appear in control and mimic the same calm expression Chris would have in this predicament, but it wasn't working.

Stomping through damp leaves and trying to keep a close distance beside Chris, I studied the arch between his brows. He appeared relaxed and patient, making us feel safe in this moment of uncertainty. It was easy to feel strong when he was around. But as we got closer to the destination, his expression tensed.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," Blue said.

We were standing on the special road, where the red scarf had blown, the night they'd left me here alone to attend their meeting. All of the memories came returned. The shoe prints I'd followed in the hallway, the laughing ghost in the woods, and the scarf I'd found in the attic; they were too closely linked to be a random occurrence. There was a message behind these occurrences. This house was probably trying to tell me something important.

Like 'It's in the Water.'

Missy was stationed in front of the left trail. Her tail was nestled behind her. Usually she looked up when we approached her or at least acknowledged our presence, but today, she didn't turn around. She stared straight ahead into a different world.

"You guys can head back now," Chris said in a low voice. "I've got it from here. I'll take care of her."

No one bothered to question him after he made himself clear. Maybe they didn't want an answer, because they'd already started heading towards the opposite side of the woods. But I didn't join them.

"What's going on?" I hoped my definite stance would let Chris know my stick-to-it-attitude was an embedded trademark, and I wasn't leaving here without an explanation. "Is she listening?"

"She's always listening."

I stared down, browsing over her black lined fur. "She hasn't looked up once since we got here." It was abnormal for Missy to completely ignore Chris in any situation. If there were a threat out there in those woods, she'd be talking more, or responding to Chris in some way. But right now she wasn't doing either of those things.

He sighed thoughtfully and asked, "Have you ever watched a dog bark at the wind even though there was nothing there? Missy pays attention to things . . . sometimes, things we can't see."

"Like otherworldly things?" I asked.

"I guess you could say that."

I shivered at the thought of Missy seeing things.

"You'll be fine," he replied. "You're in the woods with a bunch of people you met less than a year ago. You're going to feel like there's someone out there watching you, and most of the time we are. But just look at this place . . . "

"It's perfect," I added.

"You don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not. We're together."

He didn't answer. Instead, we both looked ahead at Missy; I knew she was probably staring at some unforeseen formless entity right now. But there was something else Chris wasn't telling me, and I think it had less to do with his tiger having a sixth sense., and more to do with this sudden meeting in the road, where the red scarf had blown.

I didn't know why, but I felt like he wasn't giving me the total picture . . .

CHAPTER SEVEN

Voices trailed from the kitchen, and commotion echoed through the hallway. All I wanted more than anything was four grilled-avocado sandwiches, potato chips, and a tall glass of milk to take it down with. I didn't want to interrupt their poker game, which I'd done so many times before, but I didn't have a choice. I was hungrier than ever. Practice was over. I didn't have a motorcycle to drive around like everybody else did. So I found happiness in the simplest of things . . . like grilled avocado sandwiches.

The three musketeers were hanging around the kitchen table, playing their usual card game. Tre was the only one standing with one foot on a chair; Blue had her elbows on the edge of the table with her nose stuck between the cards; and Kevin watched them both with an attentive eye. Apparently he told a joke that had everyone laughing to tears, but his last word cut short when they saw me turning the corner.

Once I reached the other side of the kitchen, taking out a pan and spatula, it wasn't long before a thick aroma filled the air, as spicy avocado bubbled from the grill. I flipped my toasted sandwiches into a perfect stack and topped them off with cantaloupe and raspberries.

With a plate and glass in hand, I pulled out a stool from the counter and nibbled on buttered bread. There was movement happening behind me, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. When I looked over, two of them were leaving, and Tre and I were alone.

He walked over, grabbing a stool across from me. "He're the deal," he started to say. "The coach wants me to start training you, and I think we should get to know to each other first. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" He folded his hands on the counter.

Fireworks went off inside my head. I was finally about to get some real, certified training from someone as talented as Tre. I tried to appear calmer than I felt.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Your motivation for being here."

I wanted to scream my motivation wasn't any of his business, and Chris was the only one I trusted enough to share any of my inner thoughts with. "Why isn't Chris the one training me?"

"You're not ready for Chris. You're not even on his level. You're not even on my level." He stared at me for an extended beat and continued, "I'll ask you again. What's your reason for being here? Do you think your reason is substantial enough to take on such a life-altering path?"

I smiled smugly at him, eating the last piece of bread. "As substantial as everyone else's. I'm not mocking you. I want to be here. And I'm not going to apologize."

Tre paused and leaned back. "Listen, whatever contract you've got with Chris, that's your business. But you're becoming one of us now. You need to know what's going on. My ex-partner needs to be replaced. Chris didn't verbalize it yet, but I'm pretty sure that's why he picked me to train you. He probably wants to see if we'll be a good fit."

Flabbergasted by his dilemma, I replied, "I didn't know you had a partner. Chris didn't mention anything about partners."

Tre nodded knowingly. "That's because Chris never has time to explain things. You can think of this as tryouts. If you make the team, you'll be initiated as my new partner. If not, you'll do something else that doesn't involve being a Collector. It's simple. Also, keep in mind, you're not the only one auditioning for this position, so don't get comfortable. There are others with way more experience than you. They want this position way more than you think you do," he clarified. "You've only gotten this far, in this house, because Chris brought you here, not because you deserve it."

Well, well, well. The plot thickens. "If there are others trying out for this position, then why aren't they here trying out?"

He squirmed in his seat. For a moment I thought I had him, but he leaned back and replied, "That's classified information."

"Oh come on," I teased, unrelenting. "Then at least tell me who else on this team has a partner. Or is that also classified?"

He hesitated before answering, "Blue and Kevin are partners. My partner's gone, and the coach works alone." He strode over to the fridge and grabbed a cold drink from the bottom shelf. "We start tomorrow, one hour after practice. If you're a minute late to my class, don't bother showing." He walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my whirlwind of thoughts.

The house was quiet as I dissected this new arrangement. This must've been what Chris meant, when he said he had something (for me) that was going to whip me into shape. Finally, it was happening. I was so overjoyed he'd asked Tre to train me and I couldn't contain myself. Don't get me wrong,studying the others (as long as I had) served it purpose, and they'd been a good reference point of what I was capable of. But now things were moving along in the direction of actual improvement. At least now I didn't have to sneak off to the gym at night and practice alone. I'd have my own personal coach to dissect my every move. And I couldn't wait to get started! In addition to my new training buddy, I was also a prospect for being Tre's new partner, which was definitely important information to download. He mentioned there were others vying for this same position, even though I couldn't physically see them.

Chris didn't have a partner; he worked alone, but Blue's partner was Kevin, and they worked very well together. I suddenly wondered who was Tre's ex-partner, and was the same girl who used to stay in the attic, the one with initials 'JE?' She probably used to fit this team like a glove. She and Tre probably finished one another's sentences and completed each other's lives before I showed up. Now I confronted the warm sensation of wanting to be a part of it. There was something special about this group that I couldn't put my finger on. There weren't any barriers between them. Their friendships were entertaining. Their bond was solid. And yet, something so strange lurked beneath their togetherness that made it seem so . . . arranged.

Unable to put my thoughts to rest, I went back upstairs to the attic. It was great knowing I didn't have to wake up at five in the morning anymore. I could do my own thing every day, until Tre was finished with his early practice. Then I'd be getting real training from a real professional, without ever having to sit on the sidelines.

*

Tre started our first private lesson by teaching me the value of finesse. As a dancer, I understood that texture was the key element to our movements. It explained the dance-like quality accompanying of our routines. Most of our exercises consisted of stretching. As Tre had so elegantly put it, finesse equals flexibility. The previous ballet experience would probably come in handy after all.

"Breathe, flat back." Tre pulled my arms toward him, making my back arch. He explained a flexible back held everything else together. "I know girls who are three times bigger than you, Calise and they're way more flexible than you are. They would take you out because size doesn't really matter. It's your focus and dedication. Give it to me."

Reconstructing my posture was harder than I thought. I stretched different parts of my body I never knew existed and stayed in each pose for fifteen minutes straight. Every week we concentrated on a different section of the body, forcing my muscles to grow loose. Tre also talked about the 'X factor.' Which meant good quality. Even if I had to do less of a routine in order to get down the basics, it was better to have the 'X factor' than to rush the whole process and faint afterwards, or burn out.

"How you move your body is not as important as the feeling. You should know this."

We started doing push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and weightlifting as a form of regular practice. Every day he made me walk across the balance beam (blindfolded), and I started remembering some of my old tricks. He also mentioned oxygen was essential in keeping the body firm and elastic. Therefore, I practiced a proper breathing technique throughout the day to help maintain a pleasant flow. In return, there wasn't anymore panting during my exercises.

As Chris mentioned, eating meat wasn't allowed either during the boot camp process, for the simple fact it clogged up the pores and stopped the body from absorbing necessary nutrients, according to the vegetarians. Everyone here was either a vegetarian or a vegan. And sure, I could've found out this information in a section of Sports Illustrated, but it was the first time being healthy actually mattered to such an intense degree.

Today we stretched out in front of the mirrors for three hours straight, and I flopped on the floor.

"I'm here to help if you need my help. But you have to start acting like you want to be here," he said.

"I want to be here! You know that. I'm taking a breather."

"I don't think so. There's no such thing as taking a breather. I don't even know what that word means, Girl. You better get up."

We spoke this way to each other most of the time. If Tre wanted to teach me about diet and exercise, I was going to listen to him and take it to heart, because the results of my progress was in his hands...for now.

He walked over and helped me up. Right away, we went straight into the next exercise. He sat on my back, and I started doing a set of push-ups.

"Slow down," Tre said. "You're going too fast, that's why you're breathing hard. Working out is like sex. You have to coordinate your muscles. Contract them."

I pressed upwards and down again, trying to hide the fact this was my least favorite exercise of the bunch.

He stirred off my back, irritated. "Stop moving your hands. Keep them like this. Like your life depends on it."

Apparently closed hands were the next important thing to having a flexible back. No matter what happened on the scene, the fingers stayed clenched at all times. If for some reason they slipped and separated on an assignment, the first thing they'd do was cut into a laser beam.

"Now . . . where was I?" Tre climbed onto my back and stared in the mirror again. "Oh yes. Working out is like sex."

*

Tre pointed out the five trees I'd be climbing, each one of them holding a small black pouch. "It's not about getting the bags," he explained. "It's about not getting caught. Missy's job, her whole mission in life is to snatch this flag off your pocket. If she's successful, if you can't outrun her, you lose. It doesn't matter if you come back empty-handed as long as this rag is still hanging from your ass. Capiche?" Tre lowered to the ground, petting her. "One more thing. Of course she bites. She's a man-eating beast. Ain't that right, Missy? Look at those teeth. It's the same way with her as with anything else. If you're good to her, she'll be good to you."

Missy purred.

"Of course," I added . . . because I was so interested in bonding with a man-eating beast. But I wasn't going to let Tre listen to Tre and let his threat sink in. I had a different definition for Missy. She was a cool cat, like my little baby kitten from high school, only bigger. I petted her gleaming coat until she understood, we were on the same side.

For the next three days, I walked on the dirt trail alone as instructed. When I felt secure enough with the route, we moved on to the next lesson that was so vital in being a success – speed.

As the fastest runner on the team, Tre made no effort in covering up his gift with false modesty. He'd say in the middle of some long extended speech, ". . . because I'm the best runner in the world." He went on and on about himself. I soaked up every arrogant word until I thought my ears would fall off. He talked about the 'runner within' and how amazing it felt being one with the wind. He explained the invisible god-carriers, and how they transported him from point A to point B, and how they hoisted him into the air when no one was looking. I always thought running was throwing one foot in front of the other, but apparently there was more involved to this action.

After lunch, I jogged up the hill and completed a set of short sprints in the same area where we played rag-hunt with Missy. Running from the one end of the trail to the other was tedious. My initial timing was unspeakable.

"Use your feet!" Tre yelled. "Stay on them. Lean on them."

"It's because you're going too fast. I can't think."

"What do you mean I'm going too fast? You're thinking too slow. That's the problem. Don't think at all. Just run!" The fervor in his words made something snap.

Maybe a light bulb switched inside my brain or a dose of pure mental exhaustion caused me to not care anymore, because I immediately dropped everything I'd learned; the running techniques, the methods of breathing, and the invisible god carriers. I let myself forget . . . Just run.

"Ready." The atmosphere narrowed in front of me. "Set." My knees dipped into a lunge. "Go!"

Air immediately whipped around, lifting me high above the earth; at least that's what it felt like. As I aimed for my target at the end of the trail like a bow released from its arrow, I could only hear my own breathing. I was falling into the picture in front of me. My feet were light and weightless, so much that I couldn't feel either of them hitting the ground. I wondered if the invisible god carriers were 'hoisting me into thin air' at this point, or if this was my own elation.

As I turned back around to the starting point, I leaned ahead, pressing my toes forward like Tre instructed, which was the only rule I'd let myself remember. Stuttering across the finish line, I saw the real world reappear before my eyes, and Tre was standing there with a blank expression on his face. He rubbed his chin.

"Well?" I asked.

He nodded. "Better."

*

My time eventually fell below three minutes. It wasn't anything to get excited about, but it was enough to move on to the next thing – climbing trees. Learning how to climb a tree didn't seem relevant to anything we were doing. They were Collectors after all, not monkeys. But Tre consistently explained, "We have to be prepared for anything."

He was right. Anything could happen. It was best to have some tree climbing under our belts.

"So why haven't we gone on any missions yet?" I asked.

"Because we don't go on missions while we're training. We're focused on sharpening up for three months. Later on, we'll partner up and make it happen."

"And why the heck do we climb trees?"

"Don't you like trees? If you can climb a tree, you can climb anything. It helps build your core and at the same time strengthens your upper body and increases your fluidity . . . it also teaches you how to move against gravity."

"What's the point in Missy chasing us?"

He sighed. "In this kind of profession, you're always running towards something. In case you piss off some cop's dog. German shepherds are pretty fast if they're trained right."

For some reason, I couldn't imagine a dog running faster than Missy, but I nodded.

"But we never actually run away from anything. We just hit our goal at an incredible speed. Missy helps us reach our capacity."

I didn't know being a Collector would be this much hard work, but I didn't mind the load. This was the most excitement I'd had in years, and I wanted to show myself what I was capable of. Here, I was important. What I was made to be would blossom, and I wasn't in the position to muckrane, nor did I want to.

If my mom were here, she'd say I was running from something. This was my psychological escape to avoid dealing with my real problems. She'd say I should stop running and face those problems before they caught up with me. But she'd be wrong. Like Tre said, I was running toward something. Like Tre said, this was my way of keeping her with me. This was my response to having something ripped out of my arms too soon, before I could even say goodbye. It was time to throw away the hindrances, the fears, and just give in.

"I'm going to be a really great Collector, Tre," I finally confessed. "Just watch."

"I know you are, because I'm you're coach. Alright, back to work. Pay attention," Tre ordered. "Look at the tree."

I looked at the tree.

"It's your friend." He ran his fingers down the bark. "It wants you to succeed."

Squinting, I mentally became one with the tree. It wasn't much different than climbing a rope. All I needed was a solid grip, and pulling my weight would be the easy part, or at least easier than gripping the tree, which was why we couldn't use gloves. Gloves thwarted the whole gripping process. But not using them seemed like it would hurt.

Mounting the tree and throwing one hand over the other, I realized my fingers were in good shape. Despite Tre's warning, I managed to climb the highest branch by nightfall. The neighboring trees were a lit and glistening in the frosty cold night, and a breeze smothered my face. Fog from my breath filled the air as I stood above the tall tree, high and exultant.

"Wooo!" I exclaimed and started singing at nothing in particular.

"Alright, that's enough! Get back down here and do it again." Tre immediately cut off my mini-celebration, and I looked down at his tiny speck of a head and almost laughed. He wasn't as tall from up here.

Stooping onto the next lowest branch, I'd already started preparing for round two.

*

Making our way toward the front door, I noticed the van parked in the driveway. Gleaming lights emitted from inside the house, forming shadows on the porch. Usually, Chris would spend the evenings running errands after practice and left us hanging around to do our own thing. But not tonight. I didn't realize how much I looked forward to seeing him.

The way my schedule was, it didn't allow for us to see each other often. Tre trained me from 1pm- 5pm and also started tutoring me during the night. No one ever stayed home long enough for us to get acquainted. If they did, they played video games in the living room, watched TV, listened to music, played cards in the kitchen, or hung out in their rooms.

Once we reached the porch steps, I heard ruffling coming from one of Tre's pocket. It was his cell phone, which was identical to the one Chris gave me.

"What up? Yeah, I can talk." He threw up a finger and paced toward the van.

I wondered why he couldn't wait for us to get inside and talk to the coach (or musketeers) face-to-face. It would've been easier than answering the phone and sneaking off to the van . . . unless he wasn't talking to anyone from the house, unless there were others around here I didn't know about. The idea wasn't far fetched since there were other members vying for this position I hadn't seen either.

Missy wheezed, looking unsure of which way to go.

"You can go with him. It's cool."

She surprised me, resting her pearl coat beside my foot and purring.

"This does not mean we're friends," I said.

She wasn't paying attention. She licked both of her paws and wiped the tip of her snout. Chris would've called this a bonding moment, but I liked to think of it as 'I-don't-have-a choice-because-I-live-with-you' scenario.

"I'm kidding. You know, you're pretty cool for a tiger cat with razor sharp teeth."

We both sat there, watching Tre pace across the driveway. My eyes eventually drifted to the crow statue again. I couldn't believe what happened a month ago . . . seeing that damn bird floating in the swimming pool left a permanent scar in my dreams. What was up with the statue anyway? Someone must've noticed it by now, sitting upside down on the steps. No one bothered to turn it the right way?

"Watch out, Girl." I knelt beside Missy, watching her step back. The statue was about ten inches tall, like the other sculptures in the attic. The features and carvings were identical to the crow statue that had basically come to life in the swimming pool. The letters 'JE' were signed on the platter, just like the sketch in the attic, so I'm guessing this mystery girl was probably Tre's ex-partner. She must've stayed in the attic before leaving the group.

Chris mentioned she was into pottery and sculpting and enjoyed making these kinds of things on her free time – she must've had a lot of free time.

"Interesting," I mumbled and lifted the stone. It was twenty pounds heavier than I thought it'd be, as my fingers trailed over the crow's beak. The statue was purposely made to appear upside-down, and the base was near the crow's head where the initials had been carved. Exploring the surrounding statues further, I discovered the same person created every single one of them. Some were angels, while others were shaped like clusters of gardenia. They each had the initials 'JE' carved at the base.

Returning to the crow statue's platform, I noticed a group of leaves on the ground where it'd been sitting, and I brushed them to the side, curious to see why they'd been stuck together. My attention narrowed to an item flashing in the soil. Beneath the leaves, under a chunk of mud, an ancient charm gleamed vibrantly, and I pushed aside the dirt, finding a small rusted object with a medieval clover on the end of it.

It was a key.

"What are you doing?" Tre walked back from the van. He was off the phone.

I slid the key into my pocket. "Oh hey. Um, I was looking around. Who the heck is JE?"

Tre stopped in his tracks and eyed me down. "After training's over, I'll answer all your questions, alright? For now, JE is none of your business."

"Oh come on," I said persistently. "Give me something. Her initials are everywhere. Even the statues. Was she your ex partner or something?"

"Not mine," he replied.

"Well?"

His eyes squinted tightly. "I'm not allowed to tell say. My advice is to forget about her and focus on your work. You don't need any distractions right now. Let's get inside before you get me into some serious trouble." He left me standing there with my jaw on the ground.

Because of his elusiveness on the subject, I had even more questions than before.
CHAPTER EIGHT

As the weeks stacked on, I started showing visible results in each of the exercises. The pedagogy to being a great Collector was extremely intense, in every aspect. Thankfully, now, I could outrun Missy with my eyes closed. I would come back every time with five black bags in my hand, and this happened without her biting my ass or trying to attack me in the middle of warm up. She was too professional and focused on getting the job done to do any of those 'tigerly' things. So we maintained a great relationship.

Aside from running, tree climbing was my next favorite sport on the list. Reaching the highest branch and looking into the night sky was a refreshing way to clear my head and relax. My teammates were still the epitome of perfection, and a constant role model of what was possible. Tre reinforced we were all on the same team and didn't have to compete. However, this never stopped him from making bets with Kevin about who could swim or run the fastest, proving this was a still a sport after all, like a playful game no one took seriously.

On the physical aspect of things, my body was much more firm and bendable, making my return to swimming a nostalgic one.

Lifting my head out of the water, I wiped my eyes. "How'd I do?"

The indoor pool was full of yellow laser beams, like an underground training fort. Everyday I practiced dodging them and completed the routines, usually under a minute. It took a great deal of focus, good reflexes, and a fluid stride. If I missed any of the marks, like I often did, the lines would turn red, and that'd be the end of the mission. But today the beams were still yellow, which meant I'd passed the assignment. I was waiting for Tre to cough up my timing.

"Come on, Tre, tell me."

He was sitting on the pool's bar, swinging his legs. His head was freshly trimmed from when Blue did it three nights ago.

"You're horrible. I don't know about you, Chicken Legs. One day you're a helpless goon, the next minute you surprise me."

I floated across the pool and tried to shrug off the new nickname he'd given me, because I apparently had long legs. I couldn't remember the exact moment he initiated the name; it crept up on me one day and I found myself responding to it.

Taking the watch from his hand, I observed the low numbers on the stopwatch and laughed. "I guess if you weren't such an amazing coach . . ." I stuck my tongue at him.

"What can I say, I'm the magician. That's enough for tonight." He snapped a finger and started checking his phone again, which was always buzzing and ringing like crazy.

"Hey, Tre. Do you ever call other people?" I asked him the million dollar question. "I mean, like people about outside of our group? I always see you using it, even though everyone's here. So I'm guessing you're using it to call other people."

"Maybe. Why do you care?"

"Just curious. Chris mentioned I'd have to use a different phone if I wanted to call my parents."

Tre's eyes widened. "Your parents huh? Well, then you better listen. If you end up staying here, you'll probably stop talking to them altogether. At some point, you won't have time. You'll be buy doing other things. You've got a whole new life here. It's going to be a lot harder to include your old one."

I shared a nod of agreement.

"Listen," he continued with his train of thought. "I'm only going to say this once. I'm way more into the game than you are. I've got lots more responsibilities than you do and with a lot more privileges, because I've been here longer than you. So don't compare yourself. There are people you haven't even met yet. Sometimes they're the one's I'm calling."

"Got it. Okay I think I need a drink."

His phone vibrated again and he checked his new text message. "Good. It's your turn to make them anyway." I made the drinks last time."

We often made the fake margaritas, the kinds without alcohol, and when we did, I always had the most fun. Sometimes the musketeers asked me to make the drinks (if Tre wasn't available), because I had a talent for making them so well.

"I thought Kevin did," I replied.

"Don't argue with me," Tre replied.

"I'm not arguing. They're just more perfect when you do them."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll make the stupid margaritas, but only because I feel like it."

I continued down the hallway, elated to have convinced him otherwise. Tre really did make the best drinks out of everyone in the house. I'd lost count of how many times I tried to snatch his recipe. Even when I was successful, I couldn't make them halfway as good as he did. He had this magic touch for making the beverages sweet, yet not too sugary.

As we made our way upstairs, I overheard voices coming in the kitchen and followed Tre through the living room. We found Kevin and Chris sitting at the kitchen table, engrossed in a game of cards.

"What up?" Tre scampered toward the refrigerator, pulling out strawberries, lime soda and lemon juice.

After Kevin and Chris gave a mindless wave, I sat on the cold tiled counter, exposing my thighs. I tried to pull my shorts down, but they were too short, clinging to my legs and still dripping from the pool. I bit down on one of the strawberries.

"You never told me who taught you how to make margaritas," I said, searching for the truth of his genius.

"Isn't it obvious?" He started making the drinks. "I used to bartend."

Frowning at him, I asked, "How old are you again?"

"Not twenty-one. But I had a fake ID and some really nice friends."

It sounded like he knew what he wanted. He didn't let things like the law get in the way.

"Hey, man, would you make me one of those drinks?" Kevin asked.

"Does this look like the drive through?" Tre asked sarcastically, with no intention of getting a response. Throwing the ingredients into the cocktail, he turned to me and checked, "Did you take your vitamins today?"

I leaped off the counter. "Oops, almost forgot." I walked over to the cabinet and reached up. Even on my toes I couldn't reach far enough. I had to climb onto the counter in order to grab my bottle of multivitamins, which was labeled 'Calise' in black and bold letters. It was halfway empty, and I popped one of the capsules into my mouth.

"Whoop, there it is," I mocked Tre. "Remember that, Tre? Remember when you threw my candy bar out the window and lamely handed me a carrot instead?"

"It was trail mix. Not a carrot."

"I still can't believe you did that!" I exclaimed. "It was the most delicious candy bar on the planet right then, and you completely ruined it. You're lucky we're cool right now."

"Or else what?"

"Or else this." I waved my fist in front of him.

He wasn't shaking in his boots. "Ooo, I'm scared. You should be thanking me. You can't eat junk food in a place like this and still successfully work here. All I did was do you a big favor by keeping it real in the beginning."

I watched him dab a hint of nutmeg into the cocktail mix. It didn't make sense to my natural mind that he'd put nutmeg into a sweet drink, but if he pulled out a tube of ketchup and started sprinkling pepper into the mix, I wouldn't complain about that either; that's how good his drinks were.

"Glasses!" He ordered promptly, throwing up four fingers.

That was my cue. I ran towards the cabinets and snatched up four rim-trimmed margarita glasses from the bottom shelf, then watched him sprinkle salt and sugar around the edges. It felt nice being the only girl around for a change, getting the undercurrent of attention. Not that I was attention-hungry, but the feeling of being included felt nice.

"Here, take these over." Tre gave me two glasses filled with ruby beverage, smelling strongly of strawberries and lime.

"That's nice of you, Tre. Making one for everybody." I set both glasses in front of Kevin and Chris.

"How else am I going to bribe coach to use the van tonight?"

Chris flashed Tre a look. "Why can't you use your bike?"

"It's not sufficient enough for the cause," he explained, shooting Chris another coded look.

He leaned back, staring over the cards and scratching his head for the answer. "We have a meeting later, Tre. If Blue gets back in time, you can use it. You'll need to be back before we leave. You can't afford to miss anymore meetings."

Kevin wasn't going to let Tre get away with his deal so easily. "Yeah, Tre. Everybody knows you hate Porscha. You don't have to keep hiding in the van to avoid her every time we go to a meeting."

Tre licked a space around his glass. "I'm not hiding in the van. I'm just not ready to go in. Capiche? Don't worry about me. I'll be back in time."

Chris nodded. "Kevin's right, you know. You've been missing a lot lately by staying outside. I've covered you twice. That won't fly tonight."

"I know," Tre murmured.

I leaned forward. "Who's Porscha?"

They paused and exchanged looks.

"No one," Tre answered, using a determined tone that insinuated I'd better let it go for now. He then lifted his glass and cleared his throat. "I don't know about you guys, but I could go for a game of Spades right about now. Who's in?"

"We'll need partners, and she doesn't know how to play." Kevin looked up at me.

"I know how to play Spades," I snapped. "I'm with Tre."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Tre retreated, lifting his hand. "Maybe we should flip a coin."

"I said I can play," I repeated.

"That's right, Tre. She said she can play," Kevin repeated mockingly, wearing his usual cocky grin.

"Fine then. She's with me. No bets first round."

Kevin grabbed a piece of paper. "I'll keep score."

They continued preparing the table, and I was elated to finally be having some real interaction with the musketeers, and not just watching from the sidelines. As much as I tried to convince myself that inclusion didn't matter, it did. And it felt really good to be part of a tight-knit group. I sat beside Chris at the corner of the table, leaving enough space between us to keep my cards hidden.

"You guys must really like this game," I said. "You've all got the same spade tattoo on your arm. Is anyone going to tell me what it means?"

"It means we look out for each other," Tre answered.

"Yeah, and if you don't have one, it means you don't belong here," Kevin added haughtily. "And that those people should leave right now and never look back."

Chris shot him a brewing look. "Kevin. A pen."

Kevin walked in the direction of the drawer, heeding to the warning in Chris's tone. I wasn't sure how to respond to Chris defending me, so I focused on rearranging the cards, shuffling them. I hadn't played Spades in a while and wasn't expecting to be a world champion tonight, even though I wore a smooth poker face. They wouldn't know what hit them if I used my talent and played my cards right.

After Kevin cut the deck into three sections, Tre dealt the cards, and I reached for mine, organizing them by suits. My left shoulder suddenly started tingling again. It'd been doing this a while now. I tried rubbing the swollen area, but the more I scratched, the more it tingled. When I looked down at the Jack of Clubs, I was surprised to find the picture expanding over the rest of the cards and somehow transforming into a deformed scarecrow.

"What the heck . . ." Numbers got big, and then small again, and then blurred out completely.

"You alright over there?" Tre asked.

Still scratching my left shoulder, I replied, "I'm fine." I knew Tre didn't use alcohol to make the drinks. He used fruits. None of the glasses even smelled like liquor. Besides, alcohol was more banned in this house than meat and sugar combined. Alcohol wouldn't be the reason my arm was tingling.

"Why do you ask?" He leaned forward. "You were right there in the kitchen with me."

"I know, I know. It's just . . . my arm itches. I hope it's not poison ivy."

The guys exchanged coded looks, like they knew something I didn't.

"Did you eat anything today?" Chris asked.

I sighed, trying to remember. I recalled having a slice of kiwi, and later, a veggie boost shake and kale salad. "I had something earlier. I'll be fine, though. Don't worry about it. Let's play the game."

Kevin glanced my way. "So what'll it be?"

I scanned the cards and replied, "Four."

Tre glanced at his cards. "I've got three over here. We'll go seven."

Kevin jotted it down. "What's it lookin' like, Boss?" After Chris threw up four fingers, Kevin scribbled on a notepad and added, "We'll go eight."

This would be an interesting game: Tre and me versus Kevin and Chris. I'd either win their approval tonight in a big way or royally fall on my ass. It didn't matter. We were having fun. Kevin was the first one to dish out. I sat on my legs to get a better view of the pile. It looked like the diamond in the middle of the card was swirling in circles, and a wave of heat rushed over me. The cards fell out of my hand and scattered over the table.

Tre frowned. "Are you alright?"

"I said I'm cool," I reassured, gathering my cards.

After another play, we all waited on Tre.

"Come on, Tre. You can do it. If you can't do it, nobody can," I mumbled, rolling my head on the back of the chair. I didn't know what my mouth was saying at this point, but the ceiling looked like a sea of black and white marble, stirring in circles. And I felt so . . . high.

"It's not Tre's turn. It's yours," Kevin said.

"Already?" I could barely keep myself from swaying off the chair as I squinted through my options. There weren't any diamonds in my hand, so I threw out a deuce of spade and smiled.

"How's that?"

The guys looked flustered as I swiped my first book. They had no idea I was just getting started. I grabbed the next book, and the next one, setting up my collection of points to the side. I might've been feeling a little upside down, but I was still a card-shark.

"Let me see." I searched my hand, tossing out the Ace of Hearts, which turned out to be my next book, along with the next four plays. By the time I threw out my Big Joker on the final play, Tre had already eased up on the idea of us being partners.

"Wooo!" Tre shouted. "Yeah. That's what I'm talkin' about!"

"So um . . . do you like my poker face?" I asked Chris.

He sat up, tapping the table. He didn't say anything.

"Just play the game," Kevin complained. His head took on the shape of a lopsided bubble, and I laughed to myself, counting off my stack of points. He had no sense of noblesse oblige.

"I've got eight on this end," I reported.

"That gives us nine altogether, Legs." Tre nodded and slapped my open hand.

"What do you have over there, Kevin? Five."

"We weren't betting anyway. It doesn't matter," Kevin said defensively, doing the cut-throat sign.

Tre cleared the air. "Uh-huh. Just make sure you write that score down. Chump."

"That's right, Chump," I repeated after him. That served Kevin right for underestimating our amazing great potential.

Resting against the chair, I started feeling rumblings in my lower stomach, and the intensity of it caught me off guard. I didn't understand what was suddenly coming over me.

"Hey there, Boys. Playing cards without me?" Blue walked in with a bag of groceries.

Everyone turned around, and Kevin's face lit up. "There she is."

"She can take my spot," I offered. "I think I'm going to call it a night and go to bed."

Tre frowned. "What? You can't leave in the middle of a game," he stated.

"I know, I'm sorry. But I really have to go," I explained and tried to cheer him up without sounding melodramatic. But he didn't make it easy, especially after we'd kicked major butt and discovered we might work well together. I wondered if we'd share the same chemistry as partners. "I'll make it up to you."

Tre gathered the cards, as I ran toward the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of water and Pepto-Bismol. Then I vigorously scratched my left shoulder, which had turned slightly reddish, and threw them up the peace sign.

"Goodnight!"

Tre grunted dismissively, and Kevin helped his girlfriend put away her vegan-only products. Chris shot me a faint smile.

"Goodnight, Calise."

"Goodnight," I mumbled again and caught myself turning the corner in slow motion to see the expression on his face. He was looking directly at me, and everything seemed to fade into the background. We were the only two stars in the universe . . . the only two creatures left in existence. His eyes were deep and enchanting, and I wanted to swim inside those chasms forever. But I couldn't meet his gaze for too long because I was about two seconds away from floating to the ceiling. That's what it felt like.

As I headed up the corridor, my feet dragged along the wood, and I was hoping Chris hadn't noticed my delirium tonight.

In the past, it'd never been this intense; they'd only been hallucinations, or blurry images. But not dizziness. Tonight, it felt like eels were doing flips inside my stomach. I was hot and seeing doubles. I wasn't pregnant, because pregnant people had to have sex. I wasn't on drugs or medication. The only thing I could come up with was maybe I was allergic to something new I couldn't yet identify. This just could not be my body's reaction to being in the woods for the past twelve-and-a-half weeks.

Once I made it to the attic, I closed the door open behind me and flicked on the switch, already opening my bottle of Pepto-Bismol. Pink liquid gushed down my throat, followed by gulps of water. Whatever tumbling was going on inside my stomach, this was about to fix it, or at least I hoped it would.

As I settled along the edge of the bed, noticing the Kashmir rug next to a pair of jeans I'd worn yesterday, I laid my head back and made a mental list of things to do. The key I'd found under the crow statue was inside one of my pockets, and I twirled the piece of steel between my fingers. Calculating its size and shape, I knew it didn't belong to anyone's bedroom. This was either a key to a locket box, or someone else's diary.

Taking the gold necklace from around my neck, I stared at the picture of my mother inside, then slid the chain through the key's hole, connecting the key around my neck and securing the snap. Having the key tucked beneath my shirt at all time was the perfect arrangement. Maybe when the others headed out for their conference later, I'd go searching the house again, to see if there were any loose diaries lying around. That was the only time I'd be able to investigate, once they left the premises for their private meetings. Then, I'd return the key to the statue when I was done checking what I needed. No one would notice the difference.

Satisfied with my plan, I wandered back toward the sketch of the creek. This one the first one I admired when I first arrived here. Black pastel formed the borders of the lake, and the smell of damp grass seemed to leak right through the page. Who was JE? Tre only told me who she wasn't. But now I wanted to know more about here. There was an inner propellant forcing me in that direction: to get more answers.

Who drew this painting? Who occupied this bedroom? If 'JE' wasn't Tre's old partner, then who was she? The only thing I knew for sure was she made statues on her free time, and she's also most likely the same person who hid this key under the crow stone. The tingling sensation continued spreading through my arm.

"What the heck?" I marched over to the mirror and looked at the irritated rash on my arm. If poison ivy was the cause of this, I would've been itching in other places as well. But there was only one rash. As I observed more closely, I could suddenly hear a creaking coming from outside my door.

Had Chris come upstairs to say goodnight?

Nearing the commotion, I felt my heart pounding against my chest. The feeling returned, like someone else was in the attic. I opened the door and found no one standing there, and a surge of relief took over. But what caused the creaking? I noticed a small trail of shoe prints leading to the bathroom across the hall. The door was cracked open, and the light was on. These shoe prints were the same ones I'd seen before. Truth be told: the last thing I wanted, was to see them disappear again. Instead of following them, I closed myself inside the cozy attic, flopped on the bed, and dreamed.

Gentle whispers stalked behind me. Owls hooted in the shadowed, unknown places. It was too dark to have come alone. I should've stayed in the cabin where it was safe. But I kept forward anyway, ducking under leaves and cracking them until I came face to face with the lake; the same lake I'd seen in the sketch hanging in the attic.

Tonight, there weren't bright lilies or green willow trees, like how it was in the picture; only the outlining of branches covering the bridge. And a girl faced the water. She was on the other side of the lake, draped in a black hooded cloak, and didn't seem to notice my intrusion.

"Hello," I called, creeping down the small hill.

"Hello, Calise."

Studying her features closely, I saw her attention returned to the stream, and I followed it, searching to see what she was staring at. Then she turned and headed into the woods, so I called after her, "Hey, wait! Don't go! Tell me what happened!"

She paused in her tracks and replied, "It's in the water."

CHAPTER NINE

It was only a dream – a very vivid one. The girl in the black hooded cloak (who looked exactly like me) kept flashing through my mind, causing shivers to sweep across my arms. She was the girl who looked exactly like me.

Was she also the same girl who drew this picture of the lake? Was she JE?

I already knew JE wasn't Tre's old partner, because he'd confessed and made it perfectly clear she wasn't. It was time to find out the truth once and for all. I needed to know who she'd been partnered with before, during the time she lived here.

As I shut the door behind me, I noticed there weren't any leftover shoe prints today. The surprise of having these hallucinations was starting to lose its sting, even though last night's effect had been the most memorable. I still felt tingly inside, but not in a dizzy soft of way. It was more of an elevated sense of being. Like if I had wings, I could fly straight to the sky.

Continuing down the hall towards the front staircase, I noticed a string of light coming from the entrance window, which served as my guide. After turning the corner into the living room, I found Tre sitting on the floor near the fireplace, reading a sports magazine. Kevin was also behind him, filling out another crossword puzzle. One of his legs were sprawled on the couch, while the other one hung from the edge.

"Oh, look, the dead has arisen . . ." Tre announced, looking up and twisting his toes in the air.

I waved at them. "I'm awake."

Kevin glanced over. "We were almost gonna call a doctor. Good thing we didn't waste his time."

"What do you mean?" I dragged to the empty sofa and curled myself into one corner of the cushion. The crackling fire warmed my chills, and thoroughly soothed the effects from my dream. Her words kept repeating in my brain, spreading like wildfire.

It's in the water.

Tre eyed me carefully, and flipped a page. "You were asleep for the last twenty-four hours. I honestly didn't think it was humanly possible."

"Twenty-four hours?" I repeated with a curled brow. That couldn't be right. As many things going on in my mind, I was surprised I'd slept at all. "You're exaggerating, Tre. I couldn't have slept that long. We were just playing cards."

"Yeah twenty-four hours ago," Kevin replied.

"I don't believe it." I threw up my arms, amazed by these dreams and hallucinations, which were starting to seep into my work ethic. "What's up with that? So wait. Are you saying I missed practice?"

Tre lowered the magazine, giving me the 'eye' again, without showing the rest of his face. "I knocked on your door at least four times. You didn't answer. You know I don't take absence lightly. In this case, I'll give you a break. I know we've been going really hard recently, doing a couple practices a day. And you said you've been feeling dizzy."

Once again Tre and Kevin exchanged glances, as though they were keeping a special meaning between themselves. Like they knew what the answer to what was happening, but they weren't saying it out loud.

"Not anymore. I feel great now," I said.

Tre held his hips thoughtfully. "We'll cut back some on practice. It's not a big deal. Training's almost over. It'll give your body some time to heal."

I nodded and agreed with him. My muscles did need to rest. "Is Chris mad?"

"Is Chris mad? Um, hello. Chris isn't the one training you. And yes, I'm pissed at you for not telling me you weren't coming to practice. That's whack. That's why I'm going to take a walk and cool off and get some fresh air. Out of this hot ass house." With that being said, Tre got up from the floor and stretched his arms.

"I'll go with you," I said. "I could probably use the fresh air more than anyone. Seriously, Tre, twenty-four hours?" I repeated, shaking my head. "No wonder I had to pee when I first woke up. I'd been holding it for an entire day."

Tre threw his magazine on the table and led the way to the front door. "It's cold out here. You're gonna need to put on more than that." He rolled his eyes and took off his sweater. "Here."

Right away, I felt the nippy draft slithering beneath my t-shirt. "Thanks." I pulled the thick wool material over my head, and was instantly glad I did.

As soon as Tre marched to the closet and snatched a navy pullover from off the hanger, he threw it on himself and fitted the hood over his head, as though he were preparing to go camping.

"Come on, let's go," he said.

As we continued down the hill, our breath left a trail of smoke in front of us. Fireflies glowed in the dark, and the sound of hissing crickets reminded me that I was officially in the wilderness.

"I'm glad you came," he finally said. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

My interest piqued. Tre rarely had 'things to talk to me about,' so I was curious to know what was on his mind. But right before he could say anything else, there was an intense vibrating on my leg, coming from Tre's sweater, and I patted down the inside of his pockets. 'Francesca' flashed in bright red letters.

"Here it's for you," I said, offering him the device.

He sighed and watched the screen, shooting me a look.

"I guess that's not Chris," I said.

He ignored my comment, and went on to make his point. "I spoke to Chris yesterday. He thinks you're showing steady improvement. He wants to take you to the next level."

"Really?" I tried to hold back my excitement. Since day one, I'd been working for this exact moment when Chris would say I was ready to be a professional. Now that moment arrived. I was mildly concerned he didn't tell me those words himself, and even more concerned he used Tre as his middleman to deliver the message. But at least I was making steady improvement.

"Wow, that's great. What's the next level?"

"It's called the pre-course," he stated. "You'll go on a legitimate assignment with the rest of the team, so Chris can test your overall performance and see if you have what it takes to be one of us. If you meet his standards and he feels you're a compatible addition to this group, you'll be invited to join the team as my partner. But if for some reason you don't impress him, if he's not too fond of our chemistry together, then you know what time it is."

"Did he explain the pre-course?"

"No, not yet," he replied. "He'll give us instructions on our assignment later tonight or sometime tomorrow. I'm giving you heads up."

I allowed his words to sink in. This definitely wasn't the time to start missing practices. Only a few more steps to go, and my position here would be established. "I'm sorry for not calling you. I didn't know I'd end up sleeping for an entire day."

"Don't worry about it. You weren't the only one who got a break." He winked.

"You mentioned there are others besides me. And yet, I haven't seen anyone else here."

He paused and took a deep breath, as though he were calculating, contriving over the most important pieces to share. "Francesca, the girl who called my phone, she's one of us. She's part of our circle. I'm allowed to give you certain details. There's still a lot you don't know, so don't get too excited. You're one of us, but not technically one of us. You have another important step ahead before it's a done deal.

"Oh. Okay."

He went on, and didn't seem to be distracted by my newness. "A long time ago, the Guardians put together a select group of kids and taught them how to be professional Collectors. We've been brought together, thoroughly trained to be our own family and support system. Right now, our group consists of 300 members, and you've seen four of us, which means there are 296 you haven't met yet. When you pass the pre-course assignment, you'll officially be a Collector. But there are a ton of other things you could do in our organization. We're our own village. All of us have a part to play. So if you turn out to be a horrible Collector for instance, it wouldn't be the end of the world. You'd still be able to do something else you're good at. We always keep ourselves busy, so we wouldn't kick you out of the place. As you know, this is your home now, Calise."

It was the first time Tre called me by my name, and there was such an underlining power when he said it, that made me believe his conviction.

"Good to know," I said, finally pausing in my tracks to get a better view of the sky.

Hearing this information was the first solid detail I'd heard about their structured underground group, and I was grateful to Tre for explaining the logic behind their unique template. I knew Tre mentioned the other members had lots more experience than I did. But he hadn't said anything about 300 members and Guardians who trained us to be professional Collectors. Not everyone had to be a Collector. And I did wonder what other types of roles he was talking about, and what exactly did these people do, if they didn't have to collect things.

"Whoa. I didn't realize everything was so organized. I guess that explains why everyone here is so close to each other. Everything has been arranged. So who's Francesca? Is that your old partner?"

He shook his head. "No. She joined the circle about three months ago. She's on a different team, though. Porscha is my old partner. That's her name. You probably heard us mention her once or twice before."

All the instance they teased him about her came flooding to my awareness. "Ohh yeah," I said. "So Porscha's the girl you've been running away from? Oh, I see. Does passing the pre-course make the arrangement final?"

"Yeah sort of," he admitted, grabbing his pockets. "Passing the pre-course will be followed by a ceremony. That's the final step."

I realized having a ceremony would certainly make the event most official. "How long have you been doing this, Tre?"

He took another breath and answered, "I've been here about thirty-six months. This place kind of finds you. Life gave me bread crumbs, and I followed the trail. They eventually led here."

His explanation felt similar to mine; I'd met Chris seemingly out of the blue, out of nowhere, and now I was here, calling this place my home. A few months ago I didn't even know this place existed.

"It's surreal having this many people committed to this one thing. I mean, what's your motivation for doing it, Tre? Is it the money?"

He didn't say anything for an extended period of time. I thought he didn't hear me. "Money is useful. Financial freedom is one type of freedom that can do lots of good thing, in the right hands. But there's so much to life. Sometimes a miracle happens and you're like whoa. It makes you feel different about what matters. You know. We motivate each other. We're here for each other, and we give each other a home."

I knew from my conversations with Chris what kind of 'world' I was getting myself into. I knew they collected mostly every type of diamond in the world. That was their main currency. They also gathered paintings and other valuable jewelry to keep the balance with the 'outsiders.'

"Do you guys ever take anything from banks?"

"No," he replied simply. "They don't hold as much as you think. We mostly do museums, ships, or very successful individuals, sometimes right inside their home."

When I listened to him, I was surprised at my measure of calmness. He'd basically admitted to some real serious activities there, and neither us were morally conflicted. In our eyes, we were doing the right thing. We were keeping and restoring the balance, as Chris said before, giving it back to the original owners. We were the good guys because we weren't.

"We don't take anything for ourselves," he went on. "We give it back to the people who pay us. The original owners. We make a great living this way. And we use the resources to create our own world."

Changing the subject, I confessed, "I want you to know I'm not here to replace Porscha. I'm not even here to compete with anyone." I cleared my throat. "My mom died two years ago. For a while, I was angry at her. She was supposed to be here, and she wasn't. She left at the most important part."

"I'm sorry about your mom," he mumbled and threw his arm over my shoulder. "But I don't think you should be angry at her over it. What I do think is if she had a choice, she'd be with you too. And she is with you in a different kind of way. At least you knew your mom. A lot of people didn't get that much. Shit happens when you least expect it. When it does, you gotta bounce back with the perfect remedy, you feel me?"

"And what's the perfect remedy?"

He wore an easy smile. "I'll show you better than can I tell you."

*

After Tre fed me some of his homemade oatmeal cookies, Chris summoned us all to the basement. I had to admit Tre's cookies truly were the perfect remedy to any sour mood. Aside from his margaritas, they were the only things he was good at creating in the kitchen.

Blue and Kevin were in the basement by the mirrors when Tre and I strolled in fashionably late, holding napkins full of cookies. The house was flooded with the scent of raisins, cinnamon, and cookie dough, which was a complete tease. Tre didn't offer his goodies to anyone else but me. From the looks of it, Blue and Kevin wanted one so bad, their faces turned red.

"Ya'll can't speak?" Tre broke the silence, sitting next to Blue. "I think you're mad at me because I won't give you one of my delicious, top of the line, A-quality oatmeal cookies."

Kevin chuckled and shook his head. "Bingo. You should be a good friend and hand some over."

After stretching my neck muscles, I shifted my gaze to the entrance as Chris walked in. He was bizarrely beautiful today in his vibrant Hawaiian shirt. The edges of it were flung open and showed off his bear-toned chest. No one seemed to be as enthralled with him as I was. I was imbued with the aliveness of his hands, and his entire stature. The rest of the crew kept talking in their usual way, like everything was normal, until Chris stood in front of us and clasped his hands.

"I'm glad you could make it tonight," he said, shooting a look my way. "Looks like we'll be heading to Florida next week."

"For the pre-course assignment?" Blue asked.

Chris nodded. This was exactly the news I'd been waiting to hear; we were going to Florida. Finally. I was going to be tested on my overall skill and performance, and I was ready to move on to the next level and show myself worthy of something great. This was the most exciting thing I'd ever experienced, and we hadn't even done one mission yet.

There was some reassurance that even if I failed this assignment, I'd still be placed in another department (so-to-speak). What Tre didn't know was leaving Chris's side at this point wasn't an option for me. I couldn't even imagine not seeing his face every day, or starting a new life elsewhere.

I had to be good at this.

At least the others didn't have to worry about being watched and graded on their every detail, while I, on the other hand, would get booted off the scene if I made one single mistake. I could already see Chris dissecting my every move and looking for something for me to work on.

When no one inquired further, Chris crossed his arms and continued. "Congratulations, Calise, on making it this far. I'm sure Tre explained to you, you'll be joining us, and you'll be tested on your overall abilities and talents, just like everyone else did when they first got here."

My eyes shot to the floor. Everyone's gaze burned a hole through my forehead. I felt like the new kid on the block, reluctantly drawing everyone's attention.

"Sounds good to me, Boss."

Kevin folded one leg over the other.

"I'm with it," Tre agreed.

Chris gleamed at their responses. "You can have a seat."

Kevin was on the ground before the rest of us, and we formed a circle around him. I was the last one to sit down, and we each looked up expectantly at Chris. He pulled out a stack of folders from under his arm, tossing a folder to each of us.

"Her name's Krystal. Get familiar with her."

The first page showed the picture of a ship, which I'm guessing was 'Krystal,' a large, top-of-the-line beauty with golden trimmed chandeliers, high roller decks, and grand theaters. It confirmed she held the ingredients of a classy ride. I studied everyone's faces and saw they were wearing the same expression. Their eyes were glued to the page, absorbing the details of their newest project. Their familiarity with the process made them appear tough and fearless. This was their element. All the while, I was doing my best to keep my hands perfectly still.

"She has a sub inside the control room . . . submarine X. Sub X holds approximately thirty three million worth of diamonds," Chris went on.

Blue scoffed. "What idiot brought a loaded submarine on board?"

"The captain likes to cross the sea in style," Chris answered. "He's been traveling like this for the last few years, carrying jewels to the queen, hoping she'll pay more for them than they're worth. He's been mildly successful."

"That doesn't make sense," she retorted. "The queen can get diamonds for free. Why would she pay for them?"

"Because she can't get these diamonds for free," Chris replied. "They're a rarity."

"I think Captain baller is being a showoff," she said. "He'll show the diamonds to his fancy friends and try to get them to make an offer."

"He's a smarter businessman than that," Chris responded, raising a finger in certainty. "He'll take them to the queen and keep his mouth shut. At least that's his plan."

Tre stared at the page. "Who knows about his submarine being loaded?"

"He doesn't make it a public display," Chris answered. "Maybe the Chief Engineer and some of his other main crewmen know about it, but no one else. There's tight security on this one. They built an extra chamber right below the control room to hold it in."

Kevin rubbed his head. "What are the propellers looking like, Boss?"

Chris flipped the page and pointed.

"Wow, nice. Azimuth Thrusters. Way better than the conventional screw-type."

Blue sighed. "How do we get the submarine into water?"

Chris was ready for that question. He answered swiftly, "The submarine's inside the vault room. They unload it there after the ship's been parked. They've also got a lock on the outside, which means there's only way one to get her out. We've got to get inside, turn off the engine, swim to the ship's belly, and unlock the vault door from the outside." He shot Kevin a look.

"As long as we can stop those propellers, that won't be a problem," Kevin admitted in deep thought. This must've been his specialty. "Good thing it's one submarine and not two. BUT. You might be the only one who knows how to drive a sub, Boss."

"Wrong," Blue corrected. "It's called a submersible navigation manual, Kevin. The one you forgot to study because it was Super Bowl night. I can drive the submarine, Coach, if you need me to."

Tre added, "Won't the vault room get flooded if we open it from the outside?"

"No," Chris answered, leaning against the mirrors. "The room has built-in shutters to drain the water back out. It's the only way the captain can get sub X underwater without anyone noticing. So, the first thing we'll do once we get on board is make rounds. How's everything looking over there, Tre?"

"All good on this end." Tre lifted a badge that read Krystal's Bartender.

Chris nodded and turned to Blue. "Blue?"

"Looks like a plan." She lifted a photo of the captain. "He's not my type."

Chris smiled.

"Don't worry about the captain, Baby. If he gets too close, I'll save you," Kevin added, grabbing her by the waist.

She pushed him away. "Oh, please, Kevin. You'll be too busy chasing around some waitress in a bikini."

Tre laughed. "Dang, B, whatever happened to the trust?"

"Yeah, whatever happened," Kevin pulled her to him.

She eyed both of them. "Don't go there, Tre. As many girls on your to-do list, you'll be right there along with him, hanging your nose in some girl's breasts."

"Aye, Coach. Would you tell this girl I'm as loyal as they come?" Kevin attempted to defend himself.

Chris was in his own world, and defending Kevin's sarcasm wasn't part of it. "We'll be on board for thirteen hours," he resumed. "Pack accordingly. Our flights don't leave for another week. That'll give you plenty of time to study. You can take the rest of the day off. Try to get some alone time with the material. Are there anymore questions?"

Kevin laughed and waved the folder. "I like it, Boss."

"Ditto," Tre added.

Chris skimmed over his folder, and then gently looked up at me. He'd already explained the main details, and the pages inside my folder clarified everything else. There was technically nothing which I wanted to ask him about the ship. And yet, I knew what I had to do. There was a sudden shift in the room, like I was suddenly drawn into action. I was filled an unspeakable clarity, like the answer somehow narrowed itself right in front of me. During these past three months, I'd been so consumed with training, I missed it. I hadn't told Chris the most important thing.

Today, right now, an inner nudge gave me the gentlest hint of what needed to be done. My hands were sweating. My pulse was racing. He shot me this unspeakable look and paced out of the gym, and it didn't take long before I shuffled behind him.

"Hey, where you going, Chicken Legs?" Tre called out.

"Just getting an early start and looking over these papers," I replied. The truth was I need to confront Chris about my true feelings. I'd been playing along with this script long enough. I found him at the corner. "Hey! Can we talk?"

He peered over his shoulder and nodded. As we made our way outside, pulling back the screen, the blinds jumped together. Chris shut the sliding patio door and guided us towards the outdoor swimming pool. Searching the premises, I found the area unpopulated, and deserted, like something off the Chiller channel. I also noticed movement at the top of the hill, and I squinted in the darkness, only to see the usual. Trees roared together and gusts of wind blew fiercely, tangling bits of my hair around my face. This was the first time we'd sit here together. There were a hand full of times I'd enjoyed the pool alone, usually when the others were away for the day, doing their own thing.

Chris sat on the edge, putting his legs in the water and inviting me to joined him. Once we were settled in, he leaned back and rested on his elbows, giving me his utmost attention.

"What's on your mind, Ms. Calise?" He asked in a low, gifted voice that could've put made the trees fall to their knees. The way my name fell from his mouth was so smooth, like honey.

"I have a confession to make," I said. There was a long pause as I shifted to one side, allowing a space between us, so we could face each other, eye-to-eye. "I'm not going to Florida. I'm not doing the assignment."

"Okay. Talk to me."

Taking another deep breath, I continued. "I know what we're doing is a good thing. We have the right intentions to give these things back to the original owners. But when I heard you talking about the ship just now, it made me realize we're doing so much hard work for them. We're stealing. Their our boss. I don't like getting bossed around for people I don't know. Taking things from anyone without them knowing it, that's stealing. It's still intrusive."

"Hm," he replied expressively.

"Whatever we do, it comes back to us. Dianne used to always say, if you take things from people, life will find a way to take things from you."

"Interesting," he said.

"All I mean to say is . . . we have the right intentions. But there has to be a way. When people see us, they shouldn't be angry because we stole from them. They should know the truth. We're our own boss. We should be using the money we've made so far, to pay these people off, get them off our backs, and then use the rest to do whatever we want. The possibilities are endless, if we don't have to work for anybody else. Tre told me there are other things we could do here, at this organization, that would still keep us busy.

He nodded sincerely, absorbing my words from the heart. "Sounds like you've thought this through," he stated in a soft voice.

Tapping my hands along the edge of the pool, I answered, "It happened while you were talking about the ship . . . and all the responsibilities we would have." I blushed at him, biting my lip. "So what are you thinking? Are you going to send me back to California?"

He threw his harm around my shoulder. "No one's forcing you to go back to California. You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. And I hear what you're saying. We'll figure it out. One day at a time. Look at you . . . changing the world."

*

I retraced my steps, with a slight smirk reaching my cheekbones, as I made my way inside the house. There were voices and clamor coming from the living room, as usual; it sounded like Blue and Kevin were watching the basketball game. On my way to the attic, I noticed the bathroom light was on again. The door was closed, too, even though I'd turned off the light earlier and left the door open.

"This isn't real, this isn't real, this can't be real," I repeated with my eyes glued to the bathroom door. I didn't want to look down, for the simple fact if those shoe prints reappeared again I was going to laugh out loud. Period. This was getting incredibly hilarious. I couldn't even leave my room anymore without feeling like a mimic cloud was hovering, following me and waiting for the perfect time to strike with more phantom images so it could ultimately drive me out of my mind. Whatever this thing was coming after me when I was alone, telling me to look into the water, I was going to look it straight in the face and ask why.

I took another step toward the bathroom. There were three other people in this house with me. All I had to call on someone if that was necessary. As I girded myself for the whatever was waiting behind this door, I looked down. As suspected, the shoe prints were back, spaces apart, trailing to the bathroom. I knocked lightly.

The mirror was the first thing I saw, as I stood with my arms to the side. Thirteen dark letters were written on the glass, staring back at me and dripping around the edges like black paint.

IT'S IN THE WATER

"What up, Legs!"

"Oh my God! Sheesh!" I shrieked hysterically, holding my chest. "Seriously, Tre? You just pop up out of nowhere!"

He scrunched his face, and then peeked inside the bathroom. "What's up? I just need to use your i Pod. My watch fell in the pool earlier, and I'm getting another one later this week." He showed off his broken black watch. "In the meantime, I need an alarm."

"What about the alarm on your phone? Can't you use that?"

"These phones don't have alarms. They're for communicative purposes only." He shot a wide smile. "Don't worry. I'll come wake you up, so you won't miss anything. I only need it for a few days."

I suddenly wanted to show him the paint on the mirror and the outstanding messages it left there, but of course when I turned around the words were gone, and so were the shoe prints.

"Oh, come on. This is unbelievable," I said, holding onto the wall.

"Are you alright?" he checked.

Sighing, I answered him. "I'm fine. The i Pod's in my room. Help yourself."

Tre stomped straight into the attic room, with his eyes already focused on the prize. I must've sounded quite energized. Back in California, this wasn't something I normally witnessed on a day-to-day basis. I wasn't used to seeing things written on the mirror, only to watch them magically disappear whenever someone else came into the room. I hadn't been raised on how to deal with such an occurrence. Now I knew for sure the hallucination episode wasn't because of an allergic reaction either. It was something else.

I bumped into Tre in the hallway. "Hey."

He'd already taken the i Pod from the attic and was happily making his way back downstairs. "What's up? Hey, you know you can always talk to me, if anything's bothering you. It'll stay between us."

I considered his offer, and realized there were still things I could ask him, without necessarily admitting to the hallucinations I'd been having. "Your old partner Porscha. Was she the one who stayed in the attic?"

"Oh no," he replied simply. "The girl who used to stay in the attic was Jennifer Escott. That's what the JE stands for. Chris was going to tell you everything once you'd be initiated. It'd probably be easier coming from him, than me, since," he stopped to sort out his words, "Escott was Chris's old partner."

"What? I thought Chris worked alone."

"He does work alone. Now. She was the only one."

Waves of invisible fire surged over me. "So, wait. He had a partner in the same way that Blue and Kevin are partners?"

He nodded. "This was years ago. They hadn't been partners six months before she ran away and disappeared. There are a lot of stories out there about him and Escott, lots of rumors. No one knows what happened to her. He'd apparently won her partnership through a contest, and he was pretty distraught after she left. Everyone was, or at least that's what we've heard. She was pretty popular around here. Now she's like this fragile buried secret that no one talks about."

It was easy for me to imagine her in mind, and how creatively driven she must've been."Is she still alive?"

He shrugged. "Like I said. No one knows what happened to her. We think he keeps a picture of her in his room as a reminder of what he lost."

"Wait. The portrait in his room. You've seen it?"

"Of course. We've been inside the coach's room. We've seen what she looks like. You look a lot like her, actually, which kind of freaked us out. But I didn't say anything. I keep my mouth shut mostly, unless the coach brings it up. Other than that, it's not my business."

I gave a weak nod, drowning in an overload of thoughts.

"I should get going, Legs. Thanks for the i Pod."

"Yeah, you, too. I mean, no problem. Goodnight, Tre." I watched him scamper down the staircase.

Once he disappeared past the corner, I allowed the explosion of thoughts to overwhelm me. The portrait of the girl was hanging in Chris's bedroom, a girl who looked exactly like me. Jennifer Escott was Chris's ex-partner, and I was staying in her old attic room. It wouldn't be so bad if someone knew what happened to her. But the fact that she was out there in the world, undetected and missing, left me slightly on edge. For all I knew, she could be dead. Her lingering spirit could be hanging out with me in the attic and trying to give me a message, telling me 'IT'S IN THE WATER.'

I went back to the bathroom and sat on the counter. I'd been running away for last two years. I'd been running away from dealing with mom's death, and running away from Carl and Laura. I'd been trying to find solace by trying new things.

I was done being afraid.

I looked straight into the mirror. "I'm not going anywhere. Show me what's in the water."

*

A cloudless sky turned into deep shades of gray, patterning the scope into sharp, silvery bullets. The branches hovered around, hastening a soft whisper to my ear. She was calling me. I rose from the ground and searched for the familiar face that filled my thoughts. Leaves shrilled in the wind, and her shadow passed from one tree to another. She was only a child, and her dark skin was vibrant on the ground. Ends of her hair flowed shamelessly, her locks layered on top of a simple white dress.

The scarlet scarf was wrapped around her head as she giggled, filling the trees with her joyous song. We laughed together. Then she stood in front of me like a tall luminous mirror. For a long moment our gazes met, and she stared back unsmiling. Water filled her oval eyes. Black liquid poured down her cheeks and stained her skin, right before a voice thundered through the forest. "Calise. Look in the water." The world spun around me. I moved around to find out where the voice had come from. Someone else was in the woods with us. We weren't alone. I could see beyond Jennifer, another figure stood in our midst; a beautiful woman with the most worried look I'd ever seen.

It was my mom.

CHAPTER TEN

I jerked forward, letting out a full bodied cry for Dianne. Seeing her face again was surreal. Papers on ship terminology were scattered across my blue comforter; I'd forgotten to give them back to Chris after our meeting. Cold sweat poured from my brow as my heart rattled inside my chest. I was back inside the room, staring at the wall and trying to shake off the illusion of the forest. It was another dream about JE. This time my mom was there.

Where the heck did she come from? Why was she telling me to look into the water? These so-called dreams were starting to feel more real every night. This one in particular was the most vivid; alongside the dream of Jennifer telling me it's in the water. It'd been this way for weeks now. In the middle of the night, I'd wake up drenched in sweat and couldn't remember a thing.

This time was rare, and I was grateful. I suddenly wished the shoe prints were part of the dream, but they weren't. They'd been there in real life, leaving a trail in the hallway. The bold black letters on the mirror had also entered my life yesterday. Something, or someone, wanted me to look for something. That someone seemed to be JE or my mom, or both.

Sheets that'd been tucked inside the folder regarding the pre-course assignment were crinkled beneath me. The time on my special phone read 5:45 am. Chris said I couldn't use this phone to call anyone else outside this house. I immediately thought of Carl and Laura. The least I could do was call them and let them know I was alive. If I was lucky, no one would pick up the phone, and I couldn't say I didn't try. Only thing was I had to find Chris and ask permission to use the phone, which was stationed inside his private office. After throwing on a hoodie and some sweats, I shuffled downstairs. Hopefully Chris was in his office. It was basically an unspoken law to never go near Chris's office, or his bedroom without his knowledge. No one ever said so, but I could tell by the way they approached him, they respected his personal space.

I turned the corner, walking straight into his office.

The dark cherry wood made up the floors and walls, and also his armchair. He sat there, staring over some notes. "One second, Calise," he said, lifting one finger and writing something down. It must've been important, because his brows creased. "Come on in. Have a seat."

I wasn't sure if I should shut the door or keep it open, but instinct led me to close it. I immediately took in the gold and brown decor, the same it was inside his bedroom. Frames hung on the walls. Green plants stood in corners as wild orchids sprouted and came into full bloom. Numerous frames stood on his desk, but were turned the other way, so I couldn't see any of the faces on the pictures. The room itself smelled like wood, leaves, and ginger spices. Finally, he looked up and dropped his pen. "I had to finish a letter. I wasn't prepared for a visit. What can I do for you?"

I stood in front of the desk, holding the edge of it with my fingers. "I wanted to talk to you about using the phone."

He paused a moment, then rolled his chair back. "Ah. You've come to the right place." He picked up the corded base phone on his desk. "Like I said, you're welcome to use it to make any public calls. It has a built-in processor that stops filters and tracking devices. You can reach your parents from here, and it'll be fine. I trust you'll keep our location confidential."

I nodded. "I will. I'm not even making this a habit. Tre told me about the rest of the group, about the Guardians helping to start this whole structure; how I'd be invited onto the team if I passed the test, which of course, I'm not doing anymore. I want you to know that as much as I appreciate Tre for coaching me, I knew you first. No matter what happens, I want to move on, knowing that I at least made friends with the one person who brought me here."

His face softened.

"Bringing me here, opening this new world to me was a major risk for you. I know that. I think it's alright for us to at least be friends," I added.

"At least."

Tapping my fingers on the desk, I met his gaze. I was glad for my forwardness on the matter, and his. "Is it alright to call my dad now? He's probably losing his mind."

"Yeah sure. Take your time," he said, standing up and making his way to the door.

"Um, so wait, I don't have to use *67?"

"Everything's set up already. Just dial one and the number. And when you're done, come downstairs. I want you to hang out with us this morning. You'll still be working out with us, Friend," he said humorously and walked out.

I stood on the side of his desk, staring down at the phone. Did Chris just call me 'friend' in a joking kind of way? I couldn't stop blushing.

"Focus," I said, pinning my lips together. Soon I grabbed the phone and started dialing the familiar number. The line rung. Good, the phones were working. Which meant their lives were working, too, without me.

I didn't feel guilty about running away. Not at all. They were the ones who didn't seem to grieve mother's death. Where had his loyalty gone? Out of mom's funeral, straight between Laura's legs? Some part of me knew better. The rational side of my brain knew Carl and Laura were on their own. That chapter of my life was over. How they lived their lives was not my business anymore. I wished them well. I loved Dianne more than they did, and I was totally okay with that. It wasn't fair to feel bad about leaving, for not leaving a goodbye note or hugging them a final time.

On the third ring, someone fumbled on the other end. "Thomas residence." Silence consumed the line as I held my breath and listened. I couldn't believe my dad answered the phone; that was usually Edward's job, our estate assistant.

"Calise, is that you?" he asked. It'd been months since I left home without a trace, and he actually sounded concerned.

"Yes Dad, it's me," I finally answered.

He sighed deeply. "Where are you?"

"I'm alright. With some friends," I answered simply.

"You could've told us. You could've told me. I've been calling your phone for months, and it goes straight to voice mail. Then I found it here on the counter, after all this time," he said in a strained whisper. "Do you know how painful it is for me not knowing whether you're alright?" He sounded so affected, so open, it was hard to believe we barely spoke a word to each other after the funeral.

"I didn't want to bother you with the details," I replied.

"You should come home. I think that would be the best thing for everyone. Laura's been worried sick."

That was not going to happen. "I don't know, Dad. I'm still sorting things out."

He sighed. "When do you plan on coming home? You have to tell me something. I can't go on worrying like this, wondering if you're alright."

It would not have been so bad, if he didn't seem like a stressed out parent. But he was right; I had to tell him something. The fact he was sounding more and more like a worried dad, the dad I used to know before we stopped talking, wasn't making our conversation any easier.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really. You don't have to worry about me. I have to go," I said, clearing my throat, surprised at his sudden commitment to care. When Mom was still alive, we were closer than this. She was always the glue keeping our family together, and there wouldn't be a day that passed when we didn't talk to each other. But ever since Laura entered the picture, days and weeks would pass without him saying a word.

"Calise. I love you, Sweetie. You know that right?"

"Yeah. You, too, Dad." I drew the phone from my ear and looked at it. There was nothing left to say, so I hung up. Half of me expected him to call back, even though I knew he didn't have the number. I expected him to find the number anyway and track the location. As more minutes passed, I started feeling myself again. Carl didn't call back. He didn't know I was here in Ohio training to become a professional Collector, or whatever was next.

The frames on Chris's desk caught my attention again, and this time I could see the pictures more clear. Most of them were of him and the musketeers camping, partying, swimming, and having a good time. An inkling of longing spread as I realized I wasn't in any of those pictures with him. I was eager for us to start fresh memories together.

There was another frame at the other end of the desk of him and some new faces I'd never seen before. There was a white birthday cake and a '25' candle stick, and Blue smashing a slice into Chris's face, along with everyone's cheers and laughter. He looked so happy, and I couldn't help smiling.

Once I was done observing his set-up, I remembered the meeting with Chris and the gang downstairs. After our talk yesterday at the pool, things were certainly moving in a different direction. And what my position here was going to look like, was still to be determined. But he made it clear I was still going to train with the rest of the group. So here I was, eager to show Chris everything I'd learned thus far. That his work hadn't been in vain. The last time I worked out with the musketeers, it had been memorable one; the taste of puke was still in my mouth from trying to keep up with their routine. Maybe things were different now. Maybe now Chris would see me in a different light after three months of practice.

After leaving the office, I had a bowl of cereal and took a couple of those vitamins; from the bottle with my name on it. There was some echoing came from the gym as I scurried downstairs, holding both ends of a towel around my neck. The musketeers were already in their usual place, doing their morning stretch. Chris trailed in moments behind me, wearing a blue jogging suit. He b already knew I'd used his phone to call my dad. He blew on a whistle hanging around his neck.

"Line it up."

As soon as he gave the order, all of us formed a line across from the mirrors, dropping to the padded floor and started doing push-ups. Chris walked over, and revealed I was certainly the one on his mind. "Come on, Calise. Pick it up."

For some reason, when he said those few words, I was alert and ready to show myself what I was made of, and how much I wanted to be here. I also wanted Chris to know he didn't make a mistake in bringing me along. Just because I had this new vision inside of me, didn't mean we weren't a team. This was where I belonged. As the possible fifth member of this team, I used most of my energies to excel in every exercise. When they sprinted, I soared. When they swam, I grew fins. That didn't mean I was ahead of them in any shape or form; but whatever we did, I knew how to keep up with their pace.

Our final exercise was the rag-hunt game with Missy. Blue and Kevin were marching up the hill, side-by-side. And Chris talked openly to them, using words only they could hear. I couldn't hear their responses from my where I stood. Tre and I dallied behind them at a reasonable distance.

"Hey," I said, brushing beside him. "You seem kind of distant."

He stared down. "I'm not distant. I've got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

He breathed deeply. "You."

I was about to ask him to elaborate, when the spinning in my head started again at the top of the hill. Intense throbbing and thumping sensations hit hard against my eyes. Tre was ahead of me when I reached out for him, but no words came out, just the sound of my throat clenching. The surrounding forest seemed to lunge high into the sky, then back down again as Tre's hand gripped my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Legs?" In one quick motion, my legs buckled in, and everything exploded into a rainfall of black feathers.

*

A clicking sound seeped through my mind and forced my eyes to open. Staring at the pointed ceiling, I realized I was lying down on the living room couch. The last thing I remembered was Tre holding my shoulder, trees spiraling out of control, and then me not being able to speak. These two recent dizzy spells had nothing to do with the temperature outside, or me getting too much sunlight, because it also happened when I was inside the house. The sun hadn't even been hot enough for me to black out.

So what the heck happened? How'd I end up here?

Turning my head slightly, I noticed there was a fan blowing on my right side, and a blue bucket near my feet, resting on the coffee table, covered in white rags. Light poured in from the farthest window, but it was far enough from my view that I didn't have to cover my eyes.

Tre was sitting in the sofa chair next to me with his feet kicked up, clicking away on his portable G155. A weary smile spread until I realized Chris wasn't here. His face was exactly what I'd been hoping to see. I wanted to look him in the face and tell him none of this was my fault; it wasn't like I planned on passing out during our journey up the hill. The weight on my eyes grew heavy as I shifted to sit on my elbows. For some reason I was really thirsty. I nearly toppled over the pitcher reaching for the mug, when a quick pinch shot up my legs, reminding me they'd been slightly bruised.

"Whoa, slow your roll." Tre sprung from the seat and grabbed the glass by the handle. Then he poured water, filling it to the brim. "Just chill. I got this."

"What happened?" I traced the back of my neck.

"Drink this first." He handed me the mug, watching me bring it to my mouth.

"Tell me why I fainted and it's only sixty degrees outside." I sighed and stared at the glass pitcher. "I feel fine. This only happened twice. The other night I was feeling flighty, the night we were playing cards, right after practice. It's nothing serious. It's probably a phase. I need to switch up my diet or something. You mentioned you think I'm allergic to the woods." Which was a strong possibility, and I couldn't completely dismiss the notion. It was the only logical explanation that pointed to everything else – it was the only reason that made any sense at the time.

"Listen," He sighed. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." "

I lifted onto one of the pillows, alert by the firmness of his tone. Suddenly I remembered the conversation we had before I'd passed out. He stopped and pulled his chair closer, lowering his voice.

"We want you to know, whatever is going on with you, it's natural. Part of the process. We all went through it."

"Wait, what happened?" My ear found itself twitching in response. "You knew about this?" I sat up again. "When did you guys find out? Why didn't anyone say anything before?"

"We are now." He sighed counting a number in his thoughts that he didn't say out loud. "It just took a second to remember. We all went through the exact thing. Had one or two dizzy spells before we got initiated. Then it stopped. You didn't do anything wrong. You're not sick. You're not alone. It's protocol. We were just waiting for the perfect time to tell you. It's normal."

Protocol sounded good to me. With my head hung over, I affirmed my gratitude. "Thank you! That's seriously good news, Tre. Really. I'm so glad I wasn't the only one. That makes everything a whole lot easier. Having you guys here. Not being along during the transition. That's definitely the best way." I wiped my hair back, staring down. "Hey, where's Chris?"

Tre grabbed his chin and shrugged. "Uh, I don't know. He's been here most of the day. I saw him in the office earlier, about an hour or so before you woke up. He might still be there."

My spine straightened, and I was suddenly warmed by the fact he'd been here at all. "Did he say anything when he was here?"

Tre shook his head. "No not really. He was focused on you. Nothing else. He was so busy putting rags over your forehead, I don't think he had time to mention anything else. I think it hit him hard, seeing you faint today. I've never seen him get like that." He smiled at the last word, and picked up his G155, clicking away again. "He even carried you to the royal couch."

I almost couldn't believe he'd been in this very room, putting rags on my head and playing doctor. All the while, I thought he'd been mad at me for collapsing during his class.

"I knew it." Tre gave me a look. "You're crushin' on my boy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You got a thing for the coach."

I laughed and threw a pillow at him, and let the silence speak for itself.

Well don't be shy about it. He's not." Tre leaned in, lowering his voice. "And you can embarrass Chris. He doesn't care what people think about him. That's one thing I admire about him most. As long as he's been here, he's definitely learned a thing or two about people and their opinions."

Another smirk curled over my lips, because I mostly felt the same way. If I felt strongly about something, I knew how to put my foot down when it mattered. "How long has Chris been working here?"

Tre made a calculating face. "Longer than us the rest of us. We started here about three years ago. We were all excited to work with him. It's a privilege to learn from the best, you know. He's a legend here. People look up to him. You'll see. He holds a high standard in this place. People want to be around him, others want to be him, or at least what he represents."

"And what does he represent?"

"The perfect Boss. You know what's up."

The subtle smirk reached my face. Hearing the word Boss made me fall in love with him all over again. "If you started three years ago, you must've been a baby when you got here. Everyone must've graduated from high school early."

Tre shrugged. "No one talks about their personal life before they got here. It makes things awkward. The past is in the past, you know. We don't talk about the families we've left behind, because we've moved on. And you are my family now, Chicken Legs." This was the first time I realized no one here talked about their family or siblings or loved ones. No one in this house seemed to have any friends outside this circle. The firmness of Tre's conviction made me consider his words more thoughtfully.

"I hear what you're saying." For the first time since I'd arrived, I realized no one here really talked about their family or siblings or loved ones. Now I knew why. No one in this house seemed o have any other friends outside of this circle.

After Tre grabbed my bottle of vitamins from the table and popped two of them onto his palm, he gave me the pills and filled my glass with water. "Hm, these look funny. Alright, take these. They'll help get you back on your feet much faster. I think once you lighten up with the exercise too, you'll be fine. You might wanna talk to Chris and let him know you're alright."

I plopped the vitamins on my tongue, taking the drink, guzzling it down. "You're right." My red slippers were on the side of the sofa, and I slid them on. "Anyway, I'll see you later."

Tre pointed to the backyard and grabbed his phone, then went his separate way, probably text messaging his Francesca girlfriend. "I'll be outside by the pool."

The tips of my fingers fizzed with a strange sensation, as though power were bubbling beneath them. As I neared Chris's office, I stopped at the corner. The door was slightly cracked and voices trailed from the inside. Great, it was Blue. I strained to get a better look inside, but the crack wasn't wide enough for me to get a glimpse of where they were standing.

"She's becoming one of us, Coach. Haven't you noticed?" she declared. "It's happening fast."

"We knew she would," he confirmed. My knight-and-shining-honor. He could see right through me for what I was, the real me, beneath the story. Which was why I loved him the way I did. His eyes sought my true excellence and brought it forth. Even at my most critical moment, when I almost didn't see it for myself, he saw it for me.

Before either of them could say another word, I interrupted their meeting. Swinging the doors wide open, I posted my shoulder against the wall, folding my arms. Blue looked up.

"Guess you're feeling better." She put her hands on her hips.

"I am. Lots better."

She smirked. "I was just telling the coach, we're really looking forward to you doing the assignment with us. I remember my first time when I went to the Neverlands. I don't think I was nearly as confident as you are, Calise. I nearly had a heart attack, that's how nervous I was. So keep it up. Whatever you're doing, it must be working." She motioned from the edge of the desk and walked over to Chris, rubbing his shoulder lightly. After she made her point and walked out, I pressed the door securely behind her and greeted the person I'd especially missed.

"Hey."

Chris didn't speak right away, but walked over and checked me out, breathing deeply. "How are you feeling?"

With him at my side, I felt . . . "Better. I think I'm going to take it easy for a while."

He took a moment, placing his hands in his pocket. "Training's over in a few days. We'll be resting and preparing for the assignment. You won't miss anything. I'm glad you're awake."

"Me too," I admitted. "I'm feeling good."

He eased over to his desk, holding the edge. "You were unconscious for eight hours. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

As much as I wanted to be transparent, I felt it wasn't necessary to tell him everything all at once. Attempting to lessen his worries, I answered, "I'm actually feeling better."

"You were unconscious almost eight hours. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Rubbing my head, I replied, "Just blacking out. My head was spinning a lot. Tre told me it's normal, that it happened to him once or twice, as well as some of the others. Which is great, because I had no idea why I blacked out. I didn't feel hot or feverish. This never happened to me before." And I knew I wasn't allergic to anything. I'd even considered the option of being overworked and undernourished. However, even that explanation didn't set right me; it didn't see liked the correct expenditure from all the careful training I'd been getting, or the proper diet.

The back of Chris's hand found its way on my forehead, joining his skin with mine. "Take it easy." There was a thoughtful pause before he continued, "You'll be fine.

"You're not mad?"

"No." He laughed. "You're alive and focused. You're breathing." Everything he said was exactly the words I needed to hear.

Catching a glimpse of the calendar on the wall, I responded, "Oh shoot. My birthday is coming up. I almost forgot about that."

He smiled. "Oh yes, May 26th. Any special request?"

I tapped on the desk. "Nothing in particular. Looks like I'm going to be nineteen, finally. Another birthday to celebrate. Anyway, thanks for being cool about the whole passing-out drama." I smirked and playfully tapped his shoulder before heading out. I hadn't really imagined Chris getting me anything for my birthday. Suddenly the thought of being flowered with presents streamed across my mind, and it seemed like a nice possibility.

On my way to leave his office, he pulled me back, and grabbed me by the waist. "We're the element of a good surprise." His words captured me, forcing me to turn around.

"Hm, what do you mean?"

"Have you eaten?"

I nodded. "I haven't eaten anything. I'm practically famished."

"Good. Let's grab some lunch."

The fact Chris was taking me out on a lunch date (alone), the fact he knew how to keep his hands all over me in a respectful way, this was enough to make my day.

"That sound like a great idea."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was a bright sunny day in Ohio, as I walked ahead of Chris, drowning in his black cotton sweater. God, he smelled wonderful. I was surprised I didn't dwindle right there in front of him. As he followed me downstairs, I felt him maneuvering behind me at a reasonable distance. After he'd given me his sweater in the office and offered to eat a late lunch with me, I was more than overflowing with elation. I was being taken care of, and I liked it.

While waiting at the staircase, I watched him grab keys from the kitchen. I could see through the wide open door that no one had taken the van today. What a pleasant surprise. Everyone was always trying to get out of this stuffy mansion. This had to be a good sign; the fate-gods were making sure Chris and I had the van today, since our special date had finally become tactile. For some reason the very thought of being alone with him made my stomach drop.

He paced to the front door. "Shall we?"

I nodded as he held the door for me. The day was perfect. Sun beams gleamed on both sides of the porch and striped the steps with its afternoon glory. There was a slight chill in the air that made Chris's sweater a refuge. Grabbing the handle on the passenger's side of the van, I noticed he was heading heading towards the other side of the house.

"This way," he said, waving me over.

I quickly scurried beside him. "We're not taking the van?"

As we approached a shabby shed buried in the backyard, right behind a curtain of bushes, I smiled. I would've missed it had not Tre mentioned it was standing here. The forest did a pretty good job at keeping thing like this well hidden.

Four loose gray stones sat crooked in the ground and led to the front of the cottage. Vines and wild branches crawled along the sides, creating webs of flowerless moss, which was probably mixed with residue from the rain. Windows were cracked open and smeared with dirt. Nails stuck out of the sides from an unfinished job. I would've never come here alone; the whole place smelled like wetness and mildew.

Chris budged the door open, and I waited, leaning against one of the boards. I was surprised when he rolled out on a shiny black motorcycle, parking the vehicle in front of me like it was a pot of gold he'd found.

I stroked one of the silver streaks. "Nice." I'd never seen Chris's bike before. So being this close to something he treasured, it immediately stirred up excitement within me. Kevin, Blue, and Tre also had their own motorcycles. Sometimes I'd watch them through the windows. But none of them were made quite like this one.

"This is a nice piece of work. Is this the only one you have?"

"One is enough for me," he admitted, throwing down the kickstand. "I try to take her out on special occasions, whenever I have a chance. Here put this on." He extended a helmet. The headgear was alien between my fingers as I skimmed over the turquoise decor, which was a nice color. I knew neither Tre nor Kevin was too fond of the color blue. So the gear must've belonged to Blue. I didn't care to investigate. This was about Chris and I spending quality time together, not about wearing her helmet.

"It doesn't fit," I complained, trying to put the gear over my head.

He moved closer, pulling me to him. "Here, like this."

For a fleeting moment, our knees bumped together, and I watched him pull down the helmet covering my hair, which he did with such ease and grace.

I shook my head and started going over what he'd told me about his bike. "You said you take your bike out on special occasions. What the occasion now?"

"Ah." He remembered. "Kevin is on his way to get equipment for our trip next week. Aside from him needing the van, I think you really could use a break. We could."

"What kind of equipment?" I asked.

"Oh you know. The usual. Earpieces, laser chalk . . ."

"Laser chalk?" My brow raised on its own.

"It's an electromagnetic sensor," he explained. "Sort of looks like dust and picks up a beam's radiation." He stared patting on the seat again while leaning forward. "Are you ready to go? I can answer your questions better once we get some food into your system."

He was right.

I needed a break more than anything else; to get out of this stuffy house and do something other than a push up. I was surprised I'd survived this long. In fact, stuffiness might've been the reason (in addition to their transitional protocol) for the hallucinating and dizzy-spells; I could've been going stir crazy. All this Chris and no sex. I smiled and breathing in the fresh air.

"I'm ready," I replied, motioning to the back of his bike. My life couldn't get much better than this. Throwing one leg over the bike, I straddled behind him and watched him snap on his own the helmet. Then he revved the engine and bounced twice on the pedals.

Just as the as the motor vibrated beneath us, he peered over his shoulder and said, "Hold on, Calise."

This was the best part; the part where I actually brought my arms around his strong, broad chest and held on tight. My hands felt alive and out-of-place touching him. But this wasn't the time to be shy and afraid of the unknown; this was everything I fantasized about. His muscles expanded inside his olive green shirt, and I tightened my legs around his, moving close until I could feel him breathing. Then he gently took my hands and moved them down lower to his waist. "That's where you hold me," he whispered.

I nodded and smiled to myself, watching as he checked both sides of the road, even though there weren't any cars around. We were literally in the middle of the nowhere. But Chris was always careful, making sure there were no signs of danger waiting in the distance. One of his best abilities was making sure those around him were safe at all times.

There was an hour left of daylight when we pulled out the driveway and sped down the open road. Streetlights beamed on each side. Three or four cars passed in front of us. Faraway honks blew, and old tires screeched. It was nice returning to civilization. The sky was perfect as transparent clouds ran into each other, and I swear I could see the Statue of Liberty standing next to the shape of a heart.

Turning my attention back to the road, there was nothing else to watch. We'd already turned into a parking lot, and there were three stores altogether; a Chinese restaurant, a laundromat, and a nail shop. Only five other vehicles took up parking spaces, and all of them were old and beaten. We inched our way up to the front and parked at the curb. Chris removed his helmet.

"Are you alright back there?"

I climbed off the bike, peeling away the helmet. "More than alright. I've always wanted to ride on the back of a motorcycle and speed on the freeway, like the cool kids."

He studied me. "You've never been riding before?"

"Not like that. I might've sat on a motorcycle once, but that's as far as that relationship went."

"I hope you like the food here. The night I made Tofu, you barely touched your plate."

My heart nearly crawled inside my throat. How was I supposed to respond to that? He snickered and hung both of our helmets on the bars, then guided me in front of him. It felt real nice being the object of Chris's attention for a change. We were always usually occupied with practice, or he had to attend to his important meetings during the week, and complete his agenda with the musketeers.

But today, I had him all to myself.

"If you made Tofu, I'm sure I loved it."

I still accepting the fact he he'd taken me out. Was this another 'courtesy?' Was he being nice because I passed out earlier today? Was he going to disappear into thin air like the shoe prints? But as we walked side by side, the moment was here, and I found myself savoring every second with him. We were living in the moment, and there was nothing to be afraid about. I was literally on the highest possible cloud, enjoying this.

As soon as he opened the door for me, I walked inside, glanced over the empty tables. There was a man in the back, mopping the floor near the bathrooms.

"It smells like Chinese food," I admitted.

"Chinese Tofu," he said, strolling over to the front counter.

"Sounds like an exquisite combination. They don't use real meat. They just throw on a slab of Tofu and dress it up like pork."

He smiled thoughtfully. "You're a funny girl, Calise. Do you know what you want?"

I started browsing over the items, while also taking in his compliment. The truth was: I knew exactly what I was getting, the moment we walked through the door. My mouth had curved over itself, and I'd already imagined myself eating a large bowl of rice and gravy. Just then, an older woman spotted us from behind the counter.

"Oh, heavens! I didn't see anyone standing there," she said. "Hey there, Cowboy." She winked at Chris.

"Hi, Ellen," he replied. "Smells good in here. Whatever you're making now I'll take it."

"Is this for here or to go?"

"We'll take it to go," he answered. "It's such a good to be outside."

"I agree. I'm loving the sunlight too, for sure," she agreed, and then she turned to me with the same large emerald eyed. "What can I get for you, Sweetheart?" She almost looked angel-like, until her smile grew incredibly awkward. "Oh my. It's you."

"Um, hi" I said waving at her. Immediately I sensed the building tension, and it dawned on me this was probably the same Ellen who visited the house and watched over Missy (on certain occasions), whenever the crew was out of town.

She smiled again. "It's great meeting a new face. That's what I meant to say." Her enthusiasm was as high as a kite. She shot a look at Chris and then back at me again. "What can I get for you?"

Despite her explanation, I could tell something was up with her. There was some wood knocking inside her brain that she was keeping to herself. "I'll have the sweet and sour Tofu, fried rice, and a bag of vegetable rolls. That'll be it for me," I finally answered.

Ellen grabbed a foam container from the stack. Then she turned around and started filling the plate to the rim. Her hands moved fast and easy. When she looked at me a second time, she appeared to be awe-stricken. "I'm sorry, Dear." She laughed awkwardly. "You look so familiar to me, just like an old friend of mine." Her apology was sincere, and seeing her so open and vulnerable made her seem even more like a caring grandparent.

"I'm Calise," I said introducing myself.

"Nice to meet you, Calise. I'm Ellen. You're welcome to come here anytime you want. No one will ever give you food the way I'll give you food. Aint' that right, Cowboy?"

Chris smiled at her agreeably as she continued stacking my food into the container. Then she took Chris's long extended order. Since they obviously knew each other, I gave them some space in order for them to catch up. I ended up dallying to other the side entrance and watched lines of cars pass by on the main highways. Rays from the sun pierced through the window onto my hand, lighting up my skin.

What had Ellen meant when she said I looked familiar? She obviously wasn't too thrilled seeing my 'familiar' face. I was getting a lot of that lately. First the guy at the appliance store said I looked like someone he had a crush on when he was younger, and now this lady said I reminded her of an old friend of hers, right after she damn near had a heart attack. I was pretty sure it was because I reminded them of Jennifer Escott.

Suddenly, the violent rash on my arm started itching again. I looked down at it, "What the?"

"Are you ready?"

Spinning around, I found Chris holding our bags. My body felt jumpier than usual. "Yep. All set," I told him.

"Next time we can eat hear if you want. I figured you would want to see the park today," he offered, peering through the window.

He was right – I wanted to go across the street and get some fresh air, away from the crowd. After waving goodbye to Ellen, I followed him through the parking lot and helped him with a couple of bags.

"Ellen's the woman who watches over Missy when we're out of town," he admitted. "The one I told you about."

I nodded. "Oh yeah, I figured that was her. She's really nice. So what's in the bags? The Himalayas?"

He lifted them in one hand, holding the bottom. "I'm not sure yet. She usually gives me a lot more than what I ask for."

"That's good news," I replied. "She's probably happy to have a regular customer around the place."

For the first time, he stopped in his tracks, dropped his head faced me with a deep sincerity. "I hope Ohio isn't too slow for you, Calise." He studied more closely. "You can tell me if it is."

I took my time answering. "Oh no. I don't have a car or a motorcycle to drive around like the rest of you all. But I wouldn't call it slow. I'm always practicing and training. I'm also here with you and your friends. There's nothing slow about that."

My response registered with him, and a look of satisfaction spread through his countenance. The line between his brows loosened. "I'm glad to hear it. My teammates aren't the easiest people to live with. But they're cool once you get to know them," he said. "I know we have lots of rules."

Hearing him confess his teammates weren't easy to live with was a relief. I'm glad he knew it; how much a pain in the ass they could be. Of course they were good and loyal to him – he'd been training them for years. I wasn't so sure if those same amiable feelings they'd grown for him, were also aimed towards me.

"I barely noticed the rules," I admitted. "I'm more focused on making the team. I have one question though. What makes you so sure no one will ever say anything about what you do?"

He didn't respond, but continued smiling, trying to distract me from the moment. But I wasn't going to let this one go unanswered. I wanted to know. What were the consequences of pissing off the Guardians, and who were the leaders who started the underground club? What oath did they take in order to be initiated? Was it part of the ceremony Tre mentioned? Was Chris one of those Guardians? He couldn't expect me to be here and not ask these kinds of questions.

"Ask me that question in a month," he replied.

"You have to tell me something."

"Alright," he replied. "You'll be sworn into secrecy. It's an easy oath to keep once you've been initiated. You'll see what I mean."

Crossing the sandbox into the park, I noticed loose Lego pieces were scattered in the dirt. There was a large open field where guys played football. Other kids spun on a merry-go-round and sipped water from a fountain. Chris started setting our food on the table, unraveling the knotted bags and pulling out three plastic cartons. Steam rose from the food as we faced each other, sitting between park benches.

"I hope this tastes as good as it smells," I said.

"Has it been hard for you, Calise? Changing your eating habits? I know you were probably used to eating a certain way."

There was certainly some truth in that. "I don't know. I still have my urges," I admitted. "It's mostly a mental thing. As long as I'm not staring at a round juicy steak, my body's cool with it."

"Ah."

"You'd think I'd know everything there is to know about being healthy with Laura's psycho quest to be skinny, but I don't. She wants me to be mindful of the same things as her, and I'm not."

He nodded.

"I like food. I like to eat. As long as I'm here training with you, I know the rules. No meat. No sweets. But when training's over, sorry Coach, those rules are out of the window."

"Haha." He took in a mouthful of Chow Mein.

I appreciated the way he was just listened so attentively. "I didn't get to thank you, by the way. For letting me join this pre-course. It means a lot. I finally get to see what I'm made of."

He looked up and answered, "You don't have to keep thanking me. You're showing progress."

"So who are the Guardians?"

He paused and sighed thoughtfully. "The Guardians are the originators of our pact. There are five altogether."

"Are you a Guardian?"

He shook his head.

"Will I get to meet them soon?"

"That's the idea," he said. "If they like you as much as I do, your member-hood won't be a question."

The idea of meeting these special leaders was beyond exciting; I could barely keep still. "Haven't you told them about me? Do they know I'm here?" I leaned forward, and our heads inevitably bumped. "Whoops."

Anyone else would've pulled away to save their plate from being destroyed by my carelessness, but he moved closer.

"Yes. They know you're here," he replied.

"Do I have to take a test in front of them?"

He nodded, chewing on a mouthful. "They've watched you practice. They know you're qualified. Soon enough, they'll want to meet you and make your placement official."

Soaking in the flood of information, I was partly worried they'd been watching me for the whole duration without my knowledge. They must've seen me screw up a million times already. "That's why you're making me do the pre-course assignment. So you'll know I'm competent before I actually meet them?"

"We take a pre-course every year. It gets us in tune for the season ahead. I thought you'd like working with the others."

"I do. But you'll also be grading me, right?"

He smiled and nodded. "I'm always checking you out. It's your first assignment. You've got an entire team of support to help whenever you need it. If you fall, we'll catch you." The way he said these words made me feel like I was safe in his net embrace.

"You better," I shot. "Because if anything happens, I'm pulling your arm first."

He squinted and turned away. "I have another meeting tonight," he admitted, wiping the side of mouth with a napkin. "Looks like we'll be going to Florida sooner than planned. How's the ship terminology coming?"

"It's good," I said and sighed deeply. "I already finished the book you gave me, which is pretty straightforward, if I can remember it all. Thanks again."

"For what?"

"Giving me the written test, instead of forcing me to do an actual Florida assignment," I clarified, touching his chin with my index finger.

"I have my reasons."

"Yeah, but how long do you think I can be here? With me avoiding the actual missions for moral reasons, how long will that hold up? The Guardians will want us to do another mission soon, and they'll be wondering and asking questions. Why am I not participating? And then I'll say it's because of moral reasons. And they'll say get out. I'm not supposed be here. I'm not in the right place, if I can't make the full commitment."

He leaned over my shoulder and whispered, "Just stick it out," he said calmly. "Nothing stays the same forever."

"That's very true. But what if I don't even pass the written examination? I'll be screwed."

He laughed. "If you fall, I'll catch you," he repeated, piercing me with those enrapturing eyes. "Remember."

This time he didn't say 'we'll catch you' like before. 'I'll catch you' was more personal now, and I stared down.

"It's probably hard for your teammates, seeing me here when they'd rather see . . . Porscha or someone else."

He turned serious. "Porscha is special to us. She'll always be remembered here. She has nothing to do with how we look at you. You're different." He smiled and lifted my chin this time. "I told you to stop comparing yourself," he muttered. His breath was so close I could taste it, and it swept across my lips as though he were about to kiss me . . . almost . . . maybe . . . damn. He stood from the table and helped me up. "How was your imaginary pork?"

"Not bad." I patted my belly. "Almost tasted like the real thing."

He snickered. "I'll be sure to tell Ellen."

When we returned to the parking lot, Chris's motorcycle was the only one taking up space. Closed signs were hanging from windows, and the inside of the stores was dimly lit. Some empty beer cans tumbled across the sidewalk, and a wide-eyed raccoon stood right in front of us, looking like we were invading its turf. Finally, it slunk to the nearest dumpster.

Without hesitation, I hopped onto the back of bike and tightened my legs around Chris, snapping on the blue helmet.

"Hold on," he said again, even though my arms were tightly sprouted around him. I tugged him closer until there was no space between us. As the motor roared and thundered, we revved down the open pavement. This time, he turned onto the street, taking a different route than the way we came. There weren't too many cars going in this direction. It was me, Chris, and the highway.

With my head resting against his back, I breathed him. His essence. His chivalric posture. If only the helmet would disappear, I could nestle my cheek along his shoulder and inhale the scent of him. But at least I had his sweater. Did friends often sniff one another's sweaters? The night was still young. Maybe he was taking me somewhere else, a place to top the evening with, since he was so full of surprises lately. Maybe he wanted for us to spend more quality time together. Maybe a romantic getaway wasn't far fetched.

As soon as the thought entered my feelings, we pulled onto a dirt road, and my dream went tumbling down. No romantic getaway. No top-of-the-line island with white sand beaches and cool resort decks. I immediately felt hilarious for having thought such a thing, since he clearly stated he had another meeting to tonight.

We maneuvered through the familiar driveway and parked in front of the storage. Coming back to the house shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did. On the bright side, Chris did let me ride on the back of his motorcycle.

"Thanks for being wonderful," I told him solemnly, giving him thanks for breathing, for letting us be together. "I'll be here when you get back."

As I brushed his hand with mine, the look in his eye tightened. He pulled his hand onto the bars of the motorcycle, making it clear he was holding back on purpose, even though he understood my invitation to be closer. Knowingly, he sped off in the night, leaving me to drown in the fabric of his black sweater, and lingering on the wings of a promise that was ready to be fulfilled.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Having dressed and showered, I walked back into the attic feeling empowered and revitalized. I'd finally accomplished my first mission, and the hardest part of my journey was complete. Being accepted and assigned onto the team had been a dream come true, like becoming a celebrity overnight. Nobody knew who I was, and all of a sudden, my name was Calise Thomas. The superstar Collector. I had Earth, Wind, and Fire playing on my i pod.

Life was good.

The greatest wave of relief had taken over last night when we returned from the airport, and I was glad to be home. On our way back from the submarine mission, the one I didn't physically contribute to, I'd basically been chosen to be Tre's partner on the spot, and it wasn't because the gang was being nice to me, or doing me any favors for my birthday, but because I worked my ass off and earned it. Chris had tested me and graded me thoroughly at the house, and this along with my written examination was enough to pass this level. Which I did. All of them agreed I was ready for the next stage. All I had to do was meet the other Guardians and my membership here (as a Collector) would be sealed. Chris said he had a position for me that would involve me doing zero missions. He said I would be on the training aspect of things, rather than on the stealing aspect of things. Which was a good start in the right direction. At least I didn't have to leave my new home. I could stay here and be with him and see his sexy face every day.

Returning the attic, I found a small table stationed beside my neatly made bed. The silver tray was there ever since I awoke this morning, and I was pretty sure it was a gift for my 18th birthday. Someone must've come inside my room while I was sleeping, which I didn't mind, since they were leaving presents. I walked over to the white flower plant and read the note beside it.

"Happy Birthday, Calise. Enjoy breakfast. From all of us."

The card was signed by Chris, Tre, Kevin, and Blue, and my face twisted with giddiness. My smile leaped into a grin because . . . they remembered. It felt nice to be included on my birthday by a group of bad ass Collectors. All of them showed their true colors yesterday. They were the real deal. Working with this group was an honor – hands down. Innate skills which they demonstrated at practice was nothing compared to seeing them in action last night. We meshed well together.

Removing the aluminum foil from the platter, I found a bouquet of the most delicious fruits: cantaloupe, watermelon, pineapples, strawberries, and different colored grapes, decorated in the most delicate patterns.

"Chris." His infamous fruit bowl beamed brighter than the sun. No one made fruit bowls as brilliantly as he did. I almost couldn't believe he'd made me breakfast in bed. They were especially arranged today.

Alongside the bowl of fruits was another silver tray with a bronze handle, and I lifted the lid, taking in the dazzling radiance. Layers of pancakes had golden nuggets on top of them, forming the pattern of a smiley face.

"Damn. Nice present." Looking closely, I remembered the diamonds we took last night – which we'd already turned those in hours ago. We were sure the captain didn't complain either, after left him with entire treasure box. To replace what we took.

These diamonds here on my plate were different. These were from the gang's own private stash, which I didn't know they had. Now, they were mine.

"Cool. I'm rich."

In addition to the golden nuggets, there was a large purple gem sparkling on the center of the pancakes, and my heart fluttered. I'd had my share of luxury, living with a dad like Carl, and I'd gotten bored with it. But things that sparkled were always going to be nice to gaze at.

Grabbing the fork, I sunk my teeth into some cold, ripe melons, enjoying the thoughtful gift, and letting my thankfulness sink in. Soon afterwards, I headed downstairs to check on things, and found it unusually quiet. My hair was completely scattered all over the place from a good night's rest, as I scurried to the front entrance. I expected to find them in front of the TV watching a playoff game, or filling out a crossword puzzle, but the sofas were empty, and neat, and so were the dining room chairs. They weren't even here. So where'd they run off to?

"Surprise1 Happy Birthday!"

I practically flew across the wall, nearly smashing my whole right side, including my face. Blue, Tre, Kevin, and Chris held up a large double fudge cake with a 19 birthday candle in the middle. "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Ms. Calise, Happy Birthday to you."

I was five years old all over again. Chunks of cake were missing, and I felt like Tre was the one who ate it.

"Wow."

"Yeaah! Happy Birthday, Legs! Make a wish."

I hadn't made a wish since I was twelve. But the liveliness of their energy summonsed another sense of belonging. My eyes watered, despite my rubbing them. After blowing out the fluttering flame, we watched the smoky swirls fill the air. Everyone clapped, including Blue, and I felt woozy from seeing them celebrate together on my behalf. I was still the new girl – the newest one at least – and this marked my sort-of graduation.

I was finally invited in, and I wasn't sure how to react. Still, it felt strange. Why was everyone being nice all of a sudden? Mom and Dad threw parties for me all the time and invited the entire block to come over and have a party. They did it because they cared. People only did this when they cared.

"Woot Woot!" Tre bounced around like a kid at the candy store, or worse, like this was his birthday instead of mine. He removed the wicks from the cake and started licking away. "How old are you now, Chicken Legs?"

"Nineteen," I answered.

"Just another step closer to twenty-one," Tre teased. Kevin whispered something in Blue's ear and slapped her derrière. She snarled at him, then grabbed him by the shoulder and kissed him. So they were happening.

"Thanks, guys. This means a lot. I really, really liked the pancakes," I admitted, shooting Chris 'the look.'

Tre grabbed some silverware from the drawer. "I bet you did, and everything that came with it. I have the best ideas."

Blue frowned. "Oh, please, Tre. You wish the gold was your idea. They were Chris's idea, and you know it. All you did was chip in a couple rocks like everybody else."

Chris smiled tightly and stared to the ground, too modest to take full credit for the gesture. But I knew it was him.

"I still said we should do the pancakes." Tre shrugged.

"Thanks for the fruit bowl, Chris," I said. "I know that much was your idea."

Tre pranced over, carrying a plate. "I hope you don't mind, I had first dibs on this wonderful, chocolate delight. I've got this thing called a sweet tooth that never goes away. I tried to hold back as long as I could."

I peered over at the missing chunks, realizing that Tre had in fact beaten me to my own dessert. "I knew you were the house squirrel. Always mooching around. Eating everything up."

He pulled his fingers through my hair. "Damn, Girl. Your hair should say 'warning, fire hazard.'"

"It's not a big deal. I'm about to take care of it."

He walked back to the table, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Wait here a sec. I've got an even better idea. Don't go anywhere!"

Tre left the kitchen, buzzing off with his new idea. The other two musketeers turned on some music, scooped up more ice cream, while I decided to treat myself. Chris was already staring my way when I turned around. He was pressed against the counter wearing a pair of gray khaki pants and a white sports shirt, crossing his legs. With his tilted, I could feel him capturing the fullness of my frame.

"Thanks again. I always like your fruit bowls," I admitted, leaning on the counter's edge beside him. All I could hear was my heart singing 'la la la.'

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He folded his arms and looked down at the floor, tightening his mouth. "You did real good last night. See. You didn't mess up. You'll meet the Head Guardian soon enough. He's ready for you."

"He?"

There was a side smirk I'd never seen him wear before. The kind of smirk that was lazy, and made him sexy. "By the way, I had to go into your room last night while you were asleep. I would've knocked, but it would've ruined the surprise . . ."

"That's okay. I didn't think you remembered," I confessed. "I forgot to apologize about the other night. I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you and Blue in the office."

He rubbed the side of his face. "I would hardly call that eavesdropping. You're apologizing on your birthday?"

Grabbing my hair, pulling it into a bun, I replied, "Out of respect for you. Even though I don't get along with everyone in the house, you're the one who matters. You're the one letting me stay here."

With his finger lifted, he asseverates, "I'm not letting you stay here, Calise. I want you to be here."

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday."

He smiled, sharing an inner joke with himself, and finally shared, "I think you know better."

Blue slid between us and started patting my hair down. "Alright, let's do something about this disaster." She took me by the arm. "We'll be back, Boys."

"Go ahead, Chicken Legs," Tre yelled from the table. He returned on the scene with a comb and brush in one arm, and handed everything over to Blue. "Let Blue hook you up."

That was Tre's master plan? Have Blue do my hair? "You're kidding me right."

She waved and pulled me upstairs like we were BFF's; I swear if this girl made my hair look like Penguin from the Batman movie, we were going to have some real serious problems. Once we reached the top of the staircase, she switched down the hall and pushed her door open.

"Wait here."

She rushed inside, closing the door behind her. More clanging noises erupted. It sounded like she was fumbling through the cabinets in the bathroom looking for God-knows-what. It wasn't too late to run away. I could tell her 'no thanks' and still have time enough to do my own hair. There was nothing wrong with my hair styling skills. Sometimes I have more time than other times to be creative and fix it up real nice.

But she came out carrying a small handbag with cords hanging from the edges and a comb stuffed inside her pocket, looking like a pro. Bottles of shampoo and conditioner were also in her hands when she stepped in front of me.

"Listen up. We're not friends. We're not homies. I don't like you. Another thing. Chris is my coach. That means if I smile in your face and give you a couple rocks for your birthday, I'm doing him a favor. It has nothing to do with you. That's right, Sweetheart. He paid me to be nice to you. So brace yourself. I'm about to make you look like a fucking goddess."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I stared through the van's window and took my own breath away. My hair was smooth, ironed, and flowing past my shoulders. A bang fell over my eye, glowing with Moroccan oil. Tonight, I looked sexy. It wasn't the upper east side New York City sexy that Laura deemed with such high approval, but the hotness that made rock stars turn their heads. Black nylons tugged on my legs underneath a dark gray mini skirt, and the fitted Ozzy shirt had sleeves that reached past my wrists. The matching black suede boots zipped mid-calve, and nothing, absolutely nothing, was overdone.

As much as I hated to admit it, Blue had a gift. She was one heck of a stylist. She not only made my hair look like queen royalty, but she also put together an outfit for me from her own closet that was insanely gorgeous. The entire time she worked it out and kept her promise. And kudos to her, I looked like a fucking goddess.

"Aye, Calise." Tre shouted from the back seat. "You're older than Blue. She's only a year younger."

Blue huffed. "Thanks, Tre. Because I really wanted the whole world to know my age."

"It's the truth. We're all family in here," he went on. "If it makes you feel better, I'm nineteen. My man Kevin over there is eighteen, and Chris is forty."

The guys laughed when Chris shot them a look in the mirror.

"Chris is twenty-five, Tre," Blue corrected, rolling her eyes. "You're such a brat."

"You know what I mean. He's the oldest. So tell me, Chicken Legs, how does it feel being a year older?"

I turned in the passenger's seat and found Blue sitting in Kevin's lap. They were actually cute together, when she wasn't yelling at him and calling him names. Tre was in the same row beside them, leaning against the corner.

"Same as yesterday," I answered.

"You don't look the same as yesterday. That's for damn sure," Blue said, proudly taking full credit.

I wouldn't say she dressed me up better than I would dress myself, but she came close. And I winked at her to show my appreciation, which she took in right away. "You're welcome."

Tre shook his head, turning his hat backwards. "If I ever got serious about dating again, Chicken Legs, you'd be the one. That's how good you look right now. From the bottom of my heart. That's a big deal coming from somebody like me, because I love my solitude, Baby, and I'm very picky."

"Tre, put a lid on it," Blue objected, rubbing her temples. "Dear God, please make him disappear."

Tre started singing Beyonce's Single Ladies in a high-pitched voice and snapping his fingers.

"That song has nothing to do with anything," Blue confirmed.

"Ahhhaa!" Kevin laughed and slid off the seat.

Tre went on singing, despite the radio being on. He took over the show. "Uh-uh ohhhh."

"Chris, throw them out the window please." Blue glanced at her freshly done French tips. "I'd do it myself but I don't want to chip a nail."

I looked over at Chris. "I can't believe you won't tell me where we're going!" I folded my arms, pretending to be offended.

Chris mentioned at the house he was taking me somewhere special for my birthday. Still, I didn't know what that special place was exactly, or what he had in my mind. There was a look of caution on his face, as though he were withholding a great big secret, and I knew he wasn't going to tell me anything until we got there.

Sure enough he sighed and replied, "It's a surprise," he said, focusing on the road ahead.

"Can you at least tell me if it's somewhere you've been before?" Usually, I was great at reading someone's mind, by the tone in their voice, or body gesture, or face expression. But Chris was a tougher nail to crack.

"I've been here a few times," he finally acknowledged his personal experience, wiping the back of his neck. He also wore a blank expression, and I wasn't able to determine his feelings about the place.

"Anything to do with really amazing food?" I searched eagerly, rubbing my stomach.

"Are you guessing that way because you're hungry?"

"Maybe," I announced. "I've got a sweet tooth all of a sudden. I wish Tre hadn't eaten all the cake." My voice grew louder and louder on purpose so Tre could hear me loud and clear. Sure enough, he heard, almost like he'd been waiting for someone to invite him into the conversation.

"Hold up," Tre interjected, smothering his head between the driver's seat and mine. He must've had something really important to say. "It's not my fault you took three hours to get dressed. What was I supposed to do? Sit in the kitchen and wait? All that luscious chocolate swirling in my face. I don't think so."

"That would've been the nice thing to do, since it is my birthday." I shot him a look.

He shot me one back. "I don't care if it's Halle Berry's birthday, I don't give a damn. I eat the cake. That's what I do."

"Coach, could you turn up the radio please?" Blue asked.

"Turn it up for what, Baby?" Kevin replied. "You've got the best MC right here in front of you. Live and UN-censored." He sashayed his hips, and then openly hinted for her to give him a lap dance. They were definitely 'on' each other's menu today.

"Because I like real music, Kevin. Not karaoke impersonations."

"Damn, Baby, that was a stinger," Kevin said.

Tre went on. "Sting."

"Errr," Kevin added.

More roars of laughter erupted, and I didn't see how Blue could take so many jokes. These guys practically lived to pick on her. And when they went on her, they went hard. They were all on her case, and not holding back. But Blue handled herself well, considering she was being double-teamed. Instead of losing her temper with them, she found a seat near the back and stared out the window, similar to what I'd done on my first day here.

Once we pulled behind a line of cars and paid the seven dollar parking fee, Chris stashed the ticket into the glove compartment, and slightly brushed against my leg. The way his knuckles slid across my knee was not on purpose, but the sensation felt great. Eventually, he steered the van between two small electric cars and parked.

Unable to contain my excitement, I confessed, "I absolutely love state fairs. This was your idea?"

I took in my new surroundings, remembering the times when Dianne was still alive. She used to take me to these events as a kid, and we had so much fun together, getting on the rides and eating chili cheese fries. Thoughts of her made my eyes moisten. All of a sudden it was as though she were right here with me, at this state-park, about to get on the rides with me, like she hadn't left. Emotions could've easily taken over and won, but I kept a straight face. Nothing was going to mess up my make-up tonight. No runny mascara or puffy cheeks for this one.

"Do you like the surprise?" Chris asked.

"No I love the surprises," I admitted in a low voice. "It's perfect."

Blue stuck her head between us. "Don't give him too much credit. He has a soft spot for merry-go-rounds. Last year it took an entire tow truck to haul him out of here." She pinched one of his cheeks. "You did enough riding that day to make us all dizzy."

Chris and I obviously had something else in common. If Dianne were alive, she would've given him brownie points for being a carnival hippie, just like we'd been. I suddenly wished she could've met him on this particular day. He was quite undeniable.

Soon we started preparing ourselves to step outside, and Tre marched over in our direction, wearing a disturbed look. Sweat was pouring down his face, flowing from his burgundy NYC cap. "Are ya'll gone sit in there and fry all day? Let's move on. Too damn hot. This is my hot as hell black male alert."

"I don't know, Tre, maybe if you took off this ridiculous hat, you wouldn't feel like a fried potato." Blue reached over and snatched the cap from his head, then climbed out the van and ran off with the prize. Of course this summonsed him to chase her through the pack of moving cars. They carried on this way, like it was elementary school all over again. Which was actually quite refreshing to watch. I'd actually missed the kind of fun that included making jokes about each other, running in a crowded parking lot, and going to carnivals. It was much different from wearing a school uniform, watching Dad play tennis, and helping Laura shop for ties.

Kevin trailed shortly behind them, stretching his limbs and scoping the parking lot like he owned the place.

I turned to Chris. "Should I bring a jacket for later?"

"Here. Wear this," he offered.

"Thanks. I might end up with your whole wardrobe. I still have your black sweater in my closet."

He moved closer, staring at my lips. "I thought you liked my sweater."

"I do. I'm sure you like it too." I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. Where was this coming from? One minute he was being a complete professional. The next minute he was taking me on surprise ventures, possibly paying his friends to behave themselves, making me breakfast in bed with diamond pancakes, and giving me his clothes. The musketeers seemed comfortable enough with him taking me out on this 'festival' date. Then I remembered what Blue told me earlier.

I pulled Tre to the side. "Is Chris paying you guys to be nice to me? Hm? Tell me the truth."

Tre pursed his lips. "Don't listen to Blue. She is crazy as hell. Coach told us to make this day special for you. He's not paying us. Unless he's paying Blue on the said and I don't know about it. That's possible. But Coach does this for everybody every year, takes us out on our birthday and does something nice. Right before you got here we took Kevin to Fiji and stayed there a whole week. I can't tell you how many times I've been to Brazil, which I'm still requesting again this year. Then, after you, it'll be Blue's turn, then Kevin's turn again. It's like clockwork."

I processed the information, which was beginning to make more and more sense; Chris did this for all of his students. There was no need for them to feel jealous about my diamond pancakes, because everyone had a turn, and no one was spoiled or left out. No one was more praised than the other. All of us got our piece of the pie, so-to-speak.

As the five of us strolled up to the ticket window and waited in line, blocking the sun with our elbows, I looked at Chris. Out of the whole group, I was the only one lucky enough to hold hands with him. "You're a pretty cool guy, Chris."

"Thank you, Calise. You're a pretty cool girl." It wasn't merely a physical attraction either. His mind, his focus, and his dedication toward his students was admirable. These individuals meant something to him. They weren't just tools he used for his own selfish reasons; they weren't a means to an end. They were a part of his life, and I could tell by the way he related to them that he was a loyal friend. He gave everyone esperance to being taken care of and living a good life.

He was a loyal friend to me for sure. I could name ten reasons to marry him on the spot. First of all, he saved my life, he took me with him to North Carolina, he bought me a plane ticket and a whole new wardrobe, he coached me to be the best Collector I could be, without forcing me to do the assignments, he cooked food for me every night and always put a fruit bowl aside for me, when I fainted, he carried me to the royal couch and took me on a possible date. The list could go on and on. The more I thought about him, the more I appreciated everything he had to offer.

"Altogether?" the guy asked us from behind the booth. He looked hot and bothered, and ready to jump straight into a pool. He punched a hole through our tickets. "You're all set."

Looking around, I realized this was the largest crowd I'd seen since we arrived here in North Carolina. For six months, we'd been kept away in our secret corner of the world. The enclosing escape of the forest was everything I wanted. And now, at this moment, we weren't such a secret. We were 'out on the town.'

At that moment, I had to give Chris-and-the-gang their props for living out in the middle of nowhere; instead of spending their money in high-class society, they hid themselves in the unlikeliness of places and kept a low profile. Here, no one questioned their motives, interests, or whereabouts, because no one cared. The move was pure genius.

After Chris handed out tickets to the group, he walked over toward the festival tents. He was like my guardian angel, covering my every move and shielding me from the outside world. Nothing could touch me when I was around him, and nothing could pull me away from him either. There were countless times I could've asked about his ex-partner Jennifer and their relationship together, but I wasn't interested in bringing up another girl when we were getting so close. Right now, the warm scents of cotton candy and funnel cakes filled the air. Food booths hauled out hot dogs and handmade candy apples dripped with caramel. The thick aroma of butter popcorn strangled my ability to see any of the rides.

"Mm, get a whiff of that," Blue said.

Tre peered around the place. "What do you want to do, Legs? It's your birthday."

"Mm, I don't know. Maybe a ride first."

"I got a better idea," he went on, "How about Kevin and Blue hang out for a while. I'll do my thing. We'll meet up here later tonight before everything closes up." Without even hearing my response, he shot up the peace sign and started walking away.

"Hold up," I said, realizing what Tre was insinuating. "I thought we were all hanging out together." He meant to say I'd be spending the whole day with Chris . . . alone. Sure I'd enjoyed our time together at the park and getting to know him. But he'd only taken me there because he was courteous. That was Chris being himself. My hero liked being kind to everyone. That was his thing.

Tre turned around. "Not this time, Chicken Feet. I mean, Chicken Legs. I gotta see this girl and handle some business." Tre's 'business' meant Francesca. We all knew that. But I wasn't going to say so and embarrass him in front of the whole world. He was still my trainer.

"That's a good idea," Kevin grabbed Blue by the waist. "We'll meet up later. This'll give me and B some quality time."

He gave Tre and Chris a high-five, and headed toward the Magic Show with Blue. She seemed to be enjoying every step of the way, like they'd been there more than once. Tre talked to the coach again, and soon scampered off towards the crowd. "I'll be right back, Legs. Just hang out with Chris for a while. Keep him company." He waved.

I folded my arms, tapping one foot against the pavement. If this was a set-up to get me alone with Chris, I was going to kill Tre. Not that I was angry to be alone with Chris (again). I just didn't like it when outside-people (like Tre) took matters into their own hands and created a forced-situation.

"Don't worry. We'll have fun without them," Chris said simply, reminding me to relax, and that not too long ago, we were on our own highway . . . with my arms wrapped around him.

"You're right, Chris. We can have fun without them," I finally answered, smiling up at his freshly shaved chin. "Let's go to the bumper cars."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I made a mental note to keep Chris away from the bumper cars. He smashed into everything and crashed into the walls, and left skid marks and dough nut streaks all over the concrete. He was an utter beast in those little cars. Not only did he remind me of Fred Flintstone because he was too big for the cart, but he kept jamming into the side of my door like a crazy person. I did give him a run for his money on the water gun race. Our toy horses raced to the top as we both sat on benches, squirting away.

"Just give up already!" I yelled.

"I can't do that, Calise. That'd be cheating."

"You're supposed to let me win anyway. It's my birthday," I reminded him. Just then, the wheel on his side lit up, and a red light started blinking away, showing he'd won. I shook my head at him and pretended to storm off. I really didn't care who won the game; I only wanted to make him think I did.

"Calise." He walked beside me, luring closer. With a bag of popcorn and an over-sized teddy bear in hand, he gave them to me. "Happy birthday."

I smiled and grabbed the bear. "Thank you."

From then on, Chris let me beat him in everything. I didn't necessarily win any physical prizes; I still performed like crap. But Chris must've cared enough about my feelings (and the fact that it was my birthday) more than he did about winning. Which gave him lots of brownie points. I almost started feeling bad for him, until we got to the bull's eye station and he wasn't so generous anymore. He stroked every board right on center.

"Wait a minute. How'd you do that?"

He took my hand and guided me to the front of the line. "Easy. Stand still. Focus your elbow on the bull's eye. And shoot."

I grabbed a dart from his container, then extended my arm in front of me, keeping my elbow aligned with the target. I eased my grip. "Alright. Here it goes. Shot of a lifetime."

Both of us watched the arrow soar across the air and land right below the target. This couldn't be for real. I half-expected it to hit the board, let alone the target. This was way better than expected. A few people started cheering and gave their support as I wiped out the entire stand of stuffed animals, hitting one bull's eye after another.

Later that day, I confessed, "Thanks for helping me win."

We were on our way back to the van, and my arms were bogged down with all the wonderful animals I'd picked out. Both of us were worthy winners, carrying our own prizes through the shifting parking lot.

"I love winning," I added.

He smiled a genuine warm smile that made my spine tingle. As the quietude of our aloneness became more evident, I quickly took advantage of having him to myself.

Once we dropped everything off, we soon approached the bungee jump line, mostly in a comforting silence. There wasn't too much of a crowd standing in front of us – not too many people were ready to fall off a rope and die. I'd spent most of my time at raves and after-parties after Dianne died, and I was sort out of the loop of the whole 'outdoor-adventure' thing. So this would be a helpful reminder.

Every time someone got connected to the black cord, minutes would pass before they finally went along with the jump. They'd hold onto the bars and stare down for what seemed like an eternity, before getting reassurance from the workers to finally let go. Once they did, their bodies bounced up and down like a rag doll, free to do whatever it waned. Which was the whole point of bungee jumping; letting go. I wanted to feel that way . . . the intense exhilaration of gliding in the air.

After Chris paid for it, I stood there, taking deep breaths. "I'm not afraid of heights. I'm not afraid of heights," I kept repeating out loud. "I can do this." As we watched jumpers leap from the crane, which was at least a billion feet in the air, it was almost my turn.

"Chris, what happens when someone calls you a thief?" I asked swiftly. "Even though you know you're not." My voice was a whisper over the commotion, but he heard me.

He paused slightly, catching my gaze. Sure the question might've seemed like it came out left field, but really, it'd been on my mind ever since we got back from our assignment yesterday.

"People have the right to think what they want," he finally replied. "Not everything is so black and white, Calise. For instance, a person who defends his house against a murderer, by killing him, is not the same as a murderer who kills in cold blood. It doesn't mean it's right or wrong. It means don't judge a person by his actions, because you don't know the whole story. Only he does. Only you can say what you are, and what's your proper rectitude. You can be a hero, or a villain. Or both. Or neither. But it's all about how you treat yourself. The moment you think you're doing something wrong, you'll be doing something wrong. There are things in between that can make you a hero, if that's what you want to be. People will always say good things and bad things. The best thing to do is not care what people say. Leave them alone. Focus on yourself, and don't apologize."

When he finished, my mind was blown. I realized I could've listened to him talk this way forever. Every word he said was shinier than all the rubies combined, all the gold, all the money. Just hearing him breathe right now was the crown of our wealth together.

The last thing I needed was to get up there and freeze in the carrier. Or worse, get up there and ask them to take me back down because the fall was too high. I wasn't necessarily afraid of heights, I'd been riding in airplanes since I was five, but this was a different kind of height that included thrusting my body through the air at an intense speed.

As I followed the worker into the cart, I felt prepared. My feelings were blank after listening to Chris and the equipment was already tied around my waist and ankles. There was no turning back. Everyone was watching. Leaning against the gate, I shot up the thumbs sign, letting him know I was going through with it. As the cart moved up, I stared out from the sides. People grew smaller and smaller, crawling around in a whirl of excitement. Even the tents and booths turned into tiny black dots by the time we reached the flashing white light.

"I'll count down from five. Are you ready?" he asked, flinging the gate open.

Stepping onto the edge and holding the bars, I tried not to calculate the distance between the ground and me. This would make this part even more horrifying. So I focused all my attention on the worker and his fingers counting down. "Five, four, three, two, one."

Before I knew it, air rushed past and pulled against my face. My voice strangled into the fall, and I couldn't even scream. All I could do was feel the sharp jolts shooting through my body. The pressure in my head was indescribable stretching out like a large bubble, so big that I thought my brain would explode. When the cord yanked me up, I thought it'd be over, but a deep rumbling erupted.

For the first time, I screamed, laughed, and cried all at the same time. Great, did I piss my pants, too? I wiped my eyes, relaxing in an upside down position. Lights fluttered all around me and people screamed in the distance. I tried to get a hold of my legs so the guy at the bottom could have an easier job pulling me down.

But then, I noticed a figure standing by the trash bins. It didn't look like anyone I knew, but they were definitely looking in my direction. My eyes fixed into theirs as the cord rocked me slowly, back and forth. Once my feet hit the ground, I ran straight up to Chris. My hair swirled around my face. "Did you see that?"

"You were great up there."

"Did you see the guy? He was standing by the merry-go-round?" I pointed in the direction behind the tents. "He was standing right over there, watching me."

Chris peered over his shoulder. Of course after hearing my confession, the mystery guy was gone.

"I've never seen him before," I continued. "But he looked at me like he knew exactly who I was." Saying those words only put me more on-edge. To be recognized by someone without having the same reciprocated response to them, felt uncomfortable.

Chris frowned at this, peering sharply through the pool of heads surrounding us, and aiming for our target. I wasn't sure if he was looking for anyone in particular. I wondered how he'd be able to decipher who this mystery person was. Chris was definitely alert now, guiding me in front of him with a gentle touch of his palm on my back.

"Stay close," he said.

*

This was one of the rare times we were allowed to eat enormous amounts of sugar, which didn't consist of Chris's fruit bowls or soy pecan ice cream, so I made the most of it. By now, I'd worked up another sweet tooth. A girl spun fresh cotton candy around a stick, which was warm and thick and fluffy, just how I liked it. Nibbling on the last bit of pink sugar, I scanned over the crowd for nothing in particular. Teenagers chewed on hotdogs. A pair of twins cried in a stroller, and people paced in and out of the bathrooms. The image looked normal. But something about this scene didn't feel complete. There was a hidden element, poking at my attention, waiting to be discovered.

"Here put this on." Chris started unfolding the blue sweater he'd been carrying around. I pulled the wool material over my head, absorbing the scent of his aftershave, which was oranges mixed with spice. While resting on the rail beside him, I folded my arms in front of me, taking in its warmth.

Just then, a cameraman leaped in front of us, waving his hands.

"Hello! Would you like a picture with the pretty lady?" He wore red suspenders, a black and yellow stripe shirt, and a yellow carnival hat that easily reminded me of Dr. Seuss.

Chris stared at him for a moment, and finally accepted the offer. Surprisingly enough, we weren't sure how to move around each other. There was a pause, and then a polite distance between us so our bodies wouldn't touch, which was a totally different approach than how we'd been on his motorcycle. The space between us hadn't mattered then. Why did it matter now? The way he kept looking over his shoulder, like there was something on his mind, or someone. Finally Chris smiled and leaned in closer, tall and warrior-like, and I stood beside him with my neck fully erect.

The cameraman handed over the ticket, and told us where to get the picture once the film was developed and framed. After Chris paid him, I slipped the receipt into my pocket.

"Pictures always make my face look like a water bubble," I admitted jokingly.

"Your face is fine," he defended.

And yet the wavering itch to throw the ticket away was getting stronger by the second. I could see my water bubble-head now, greatly contrasting his perfectly shaped everything.

"Party over here!" Tre yelled.

My eyes lit up, and I spun around. "Tre!"

"Damn, I missed you, too." He kissed my cheek and sighed. "So this chick was bangin', right? Nice and proportioned, with curves in all the right places. Know what I mean, Coach? She was about as fine as me. Almost."

There was nothing new about Tre expressing his passion about some random chick. He was always talking about some girl's apple bottom on MTV like it was the greatest creation on earth. So I wasn't sure what girl he was rambling about this time: Francesca, Porscha, or someone new.

"Are things getting serious with your new lady friend?" I asked, elbowing him.

"Did hell freeze over?" He snorted. I might give her a shot. We'll see. She's got potential. So what did you two do while I was gone? Celebrate?"

Chris and I caught a glimpse of one another, energetically reflecting over the entire day and all the wild fun we'd had together. At least I was. There wasn't one thing I would've changed, because this day was the perfect combination of risk and adventure, especially since I'd never been bungee jumping before. This alone was a major accomplishment, and a clear indication what our road was going to be like in the future. . . we'd be leaping and flying in high places.

Chris answered first."Calise beat me in everything. We had to carry all of her winnings back to the van."

"Ha. You know his ego's messed up now, right?"

"He's being modest, Tre," I confessed. "He let me beat him in everything. If I did win, it's because he showed me how."

Right on cue, Blue and Kevin walked over to us, holding bags of caramel popcorn (I should've gotten the same kind instead of the plain).

"So what's next, Birthday Girl?" Kevin appeared with Blue under his arm. "I know you like the fairs and all, but the game starts in an hour, and it needs my undivided attention. How about it?" He checked his cell phone.

The three of them looked ready to go, so I nodded. "That's cool with me. We can watch the game."

Chris was the only one who didn't seem to hear our new plan. His attention was caught up elsewhere. As he looked up at the moving ship, he started making his way to the ticket puller. I could already see what Blue meant when she said it took a tow truck to get him out of here. The ship was swinging back and forth, and everyone on the ride was screaming like it was the best invention since the roller coaster.

"Hey, let's get on this ride first," he said, pointing to the Gold Mine.

We followed Chris to the end of the line and moved in with the next group, as the last pack of riders stumbled through the exit gate. It was darker now, and I could barely make out the steps leading to another ladder, toward the rear of the ship. It smelled like rusted steel and sweat once we made it to the benches. Kevin and Blue sat next to each other, trying to situate the belt across their laps, which didn't seem to be cooperating. They had to pull the pole down until it released and landed on top of them. Tre was at the other end of the boat, squished in a corner with a bunch of strangers, rambling about God-knows-what. I swear he could fit in with the best of them.

To my right, Chris was relaxed as the rail fell over us. I held the bar in front of me, looking up at the sky.

"Relax. We're not even in the air yet," he said.

My legs trembled, despite him touching my knee, which should've calmed me more than it did. The complete opposite overruled, and my heart sped. It felt like warm butterflies were swerving in the back of my throat.

"You went bungee jumping a hundred and fifty-five feet in the air. Now you're on this little thing. What happened to 'Calise the brave'?" he asked, shooting a smirk that was dark and sexy.

Truth be told, he had a point. This ride should've been a cinch, hands-down, especially after I'd been so high up. I was still recuperating from my first adrenaline rush.

"I'm here. I'm focused." I stared at my feet resting on the steel block. What Chris didn't know was my nerves weren't only from a fear of heights, which I could control and had mastered less than an hour ago in a metal crate, it was also from being smashed in a box with him.

"Wooot Wooot!" Tre hollered across the way. Just then, the ship tilted, gliding in one gradual motion. All I could do was close my eyes and squeeze the bar. "Oh my God."

Blue and Kevin yelled their lungs out, kicking their legs. "Here we go! Yeaaa. Wooo!"

The ship started gaining speed as the tail end went higher into the air. "Wahhhh!" I screamed, opening my eyes. My arms flapped. Wind struck hard against my face. The momentum juggled us around the bench, and I ended up bumping into Chris, trying to pull away. But the gravitational force was too strong. Our arms smashed together. There was nothing either of us could do about it. His hands sailed in the air as he laughed along with the rest of the group. I only wanted the whole thing to be over with.

"Ahhhh!"

Swoosh.

Beneath us, the ground danced. An audience formed and watched us from the sidelines, and I glanced down at the specks of people laughing and pointing their fingers at some of the other rides. Someone was standing near the popcorn stand, looking at me by the ticket gate, and I found myself trying to make out this stranger's face. That's when I realized it was the same person who'd been watching me before, when I was dangling from the bungee jump cord.

A sharp coolness swept across my neck. By this time, the rocking of the ship had slowed, and my screaming had stopped altogether. Whoever this person was following me I was about to confront them and find out what they wanted. If they said nothing, I was going to tell them to get a life. There were too many rides and diversions in this place to be going around stalking people. I waited for the ride to come to end before I lifted up the bar and leaped out.

"Is everything alright?" Chris checked on me.

Staring at the popcorn stand, I was determined to confront my anonymous pursuer. The floating question was left unanswered, and I wondered if I was seeing things again. I hoped that wasn't the case, because my head felt fine as I hurried down the steps.

"Calise?" Chris called, catching up to me and meeting my eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good." I admitted, holding my forehead.

Tre shuffled through the exit gate. "Alright, let's go, people! Game starts in forty-five minutes."

More people followed behind us, including Blue and Kevin, shuffling fast down the ladder. We watched them dart straight through the wooden flap labeled 'depart here.'

"That ride was way more than it looked," I finally said.

Chris seemed to be more focused about what was going on inside my head than on my feeble attempt to make conversation. His look of concern overrode my fears and dispelled them. If he tagged along with me to find this guy, he'd only make the stranger more nervous. I realized I'd have to confront them alone, so whoever it was, would feel safe enough to appear and turn himself in.

The pace around us had slowed. Mostly everyone was leaving and heading back toward the parking lot, probably on their way to see the game. Tents were loading up. I pulled out the ticket, reminding Chris it was time to pick up our picture. He was about to start making his way toward the photo booth.

"Wait!" I stopped him. "You don't have to come with me. It'll only take a second."

He shot me a hesitant look.

"Really," I went on. "It'll be quicker this way. I can meet you in front."

Reluctantly, he started heading back to the parking lot. "You have my number," he reminded, and I smiled reassuringly, watching him pace through the revolving exit gate. His concern was adorable, like any girl's fantasy bodyguard. But I had to handle this situation solo, and his blanket of security was only going to get in the way and slow me down.

Going back inside, I checked every direction. Even when I returned to the ship ride, I couldn't find this person anywhere. He'd managed to escape. After a long ten minutes, I gave up and headed over to the picture booth. There weren't any lines, and I found the cameraman who'd serviced us earlier. He was gathering boxes from behind the stand and closing shop; I made it there right in time.

"Hey!" I tapped on the counter, throwing down my ticket.

"I'm glad you made it. You never want to forget a photograph." He pulled a box open, skimming through frames. "Where's your friend?"

"Bringing the car around," I replied.

"He let you walk here alone?"

I shook my head. "Yes, It's not like you;re gonna turn into a monster clown, are you? Chase me down with water balloons?"

"No," he teased. Then he grabbed the yellow frame from the box and pointed at the picture of Chris hovering beside me. "I can tell he's protective of you. See for yourself."

I almost laughed, unsure how to respond to this man's observation. As I predicted, my face strongly resembled a water bubble, and Chris looked more like a body guard, who was keeping his distance, rather than someone who was interested.

"There you go. You're all set." He stared at me with a telling smile.

"Cool. Thanks. Take care," I replied and checked my face in the mirror, while clutching the piece of art under my arm.

"You, too."

Racing back through the benches and dodging empty ice cream cups, I found the van parked in front of the gate with its headlights on. I wasn't returning Blue's skirt with the pockets full of garbage, so I tossed the candy wrappers and unused tokens at the nearest trash bin and paced toward the exit. Suddenly, a low ringing buzzed in my ear, like the hum of complete and absolute silence. Voices from the parking lot grew faint. The same feeling of being watched I had in the hallway returned. I turned my head, facing the empty walkway. Loose bottles rolled on the ground and a piercing squeak sounded like a swing going back and forth.

Completing my turn, the only thing in front of me was my own shadow. There were a couple of employees mingling near the tents as I scampered toward the end of the corner and continued my search. Bathrooms were along the right side of the wall, ablaze and flickering. Nothing was here to see except a cave of oncoming blackness, like a dead end. On my way back to the van, near the entrys turnstile, I heard someone calling for me, but I couldn't see who they were exactly. Which was more than enough to send me dashing through the exit bar.

"Who's there? What do you want?" I asked out loud, and then started marching towards the van with my arms clutched tightly. The photo dropped out of my hand anyways, and I snatched I back up, rearranging the cover.

"Hey, Girl! Girl with the Ozzy shirt!" someone called out again. This time I looked around more diligently, the same as before, feeling slightly baffled. I could barely make him out in the distance, but he was approaching me through the swarm of moving cars.

"Hey, wait up!" he said, scurrying across.

Seeing him more closely, I realized how incredibly gorgeous he was; gray eyes, boyish smile, and scattered hair. He was wearing an orange t-shirt and flip-flops. It dawned on me this was the boy from the shop. This time he wasn't alone. There was another guy about the same height as him at his side, lovingly holding hands.

"Oh. Hey! It's you."

He looked me over one good time and smiled. "Wow, you look really good tonight. It's me, remember? From the shop."

"Yeah, I remember."

"This is Andrew. My boo," he said, introducing us. In the same motion, he showed off Andrew's name tattooed on the back of his left arm while lightly shuffling his hair. "We're always coming here during the week. Today we got here about an hour ago."

Andrew added, "We should've came earlier."

Extending my arm, I gave them a quick handshake and beamed at their matching outfits. "We've been here since earlier. For my birthday. Just a little something to celebrate. I'm sure I'll be back soon, to finish up the rides I missed."

Gazing between them, I suddenly realized my phone was beeping, and I knew it was Chris signaling for me to put-a-move-on-it. "Look, I'm kind of in a hurry. It was nice meeting you both. Wish we could hang."

"Then let's make it happen," he added hastily. "Why don't you give us your number? We can show you around sometime, show you parts of town nobody else will."

Andrew leaped. "Oh yeah, that's a great idea! It'll be fun."

Right away, my confidential cell phone came floating across my mind, in addition to the fact we were Collectors who just took a bunch of diamonds off a ship. "Um, no. That won't happen. I can't." Ever.

"You can't, or you don't want to?" Charlie asked, hoping to change my mind.

While I looked over his shoulder, the van was still parked at the front, facing us. So I knew the musketeers could see all the details of my miniature party. "Look, why don't you give me your number?" I requested, shrugging my shoulder.

He smiled largely and pulled out a pen from his pocket, writing down numbers on a piece of paper. I knew I was never going to use it. Suddenly the rules regarding other townspeople were cloudy, as far as our boundaries were concerned.

"You still didn't tell me your name," Charlie said, putting his pen away.

"Calise," I answered, looking down at the numbers he'd written. At least it was okay for us to use our real name. That much I was sure of. "Nice seeing you again, Charlie. Nice to meet you, Andrew. I have to go now."

"That's alright. Just don't be a stranger," he replied and headed off in the other direction.

"See you around!" Andrew said.

It was thirty minutes after eight, and the game was about to start in less than half an hour; it was going to take at least this much time to get back to the house. They were going to kill me. There were too many things crammed up inside this one state fair: a possible stalker, a fun-filled date with Chris, and now, I'd bumped into shop boy and his twin boyfriend. The day started off so perfect and ended up being more mind-being then I would've imagined.

As I approached the vehicle, I noticed Chris wasn't inside of it. Instead, he was near someone else's car, leaning over someone else window. The second I showed up, they drove off in this black picturesque limousine before I could make them out. Whoever it was, they must've been too famous to say hi.

Chris returned to the van, beating me to the punch. The door was unlocked when I slid into the passenger's seat.

"Who was that?" Tre asked, folding his arms.

Keeping the story short, I replied, "Some guy I met."

"Where? In the attic?" Blue added, chuckling.

"His name is Charlie," I clarified.

Once Chris got himself situated behind the wheel, I waved the frame in his direction. "See. I got the picture all by myself."

Blue rolled her eyes and checked her watch, completely oblivious to what I'd been through just now as this mysterious public amusement park. As much as I wanted to tell everyone the exciting news, no one could know what happened. I didn't want them getting rowed up, making the case bigger than it was, at least not until I pulled myself together first.

"How's the picture?" Chris asked, backing out the van.

I sighed, showing him the frame. "I told you. My face looks like a water bubble."

Chris took a quick glance.

"Aw, let me see," Tre requested.

"Sorry, Tre. I can't show you this one. My face looks like a water bubble, and I'm not being sarcastic."

He frowned. "Oh, come on, Legs, it's not that serious."

"It's worse." Truth of the matter was, I didn't look too shabby in the picture. Also, Chris and I didn't look too shabby in the picture together. But I didn't want the rest of the group seeing the whole ordeal, reading into our chemistry like the cameraman. I wasn't ready to face the consequence if they found out how much I adored their coach, and this photo would definitely reveal all that.

"Alright, fine. Keep the picture. All I know . . . if I miss the second half of this game, you better sleep with your eyes open," Tre warned, turning in his seat.

I took his warning lightly, resting my head against the window. The man's shadow kept reappearing in my mind. I remembered him clearly, and the way he watched me through the crowd. What did he want?

Pressing my nose against the glass, I stared at Chris's reflection through the window. As long as he was here, I'd be safe. Chris would protect me from all the stalkers in the world, and the police. Being here with him was exactly what I wanted. Once my position here was final, our union would be set in stone. We were untouchable . . . Even the cameraman recognized what I was afraid to admit; Chris had an unmistakable care for me. Since the night we first met, there was something between us, something indescribable. Tonight, his eyes admitted it again. Chris would never let anything happen to me.

As though he could hear thoughts, he looked at me through the mirror. Neither of us would turn away, and in a split second, he seized my heart again. There didn't need to be spoken words for me to know . . . I was his.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Looking outside the window, I saw the others pacing toward the house, nearly leaping over steps to get to the front door. I must've dozed off because I woke up with my head slightly drifting along the windowsill. Chris was still in the driver's seat, staring ahead in deep thought with one hand on the wheel. What I would've given to be in his mind, and to see all of the wonderful ways he processed life; to know the kind of things he was interested in outside of our profession, and to probe all of what he was capable of.

That's when I realized the engine was still running.

"Hey." I stretched my arms. "I didn't know we were here."

He continued staring through the glass, so there was something else important soaking up his attention. I didn't want to interrupt. However, he needed to know I was here if he needed someone to talk to.

"What's on your mind?" My question made him smile and he turned to me, lifting his hands and cradling my face. The way he studied my eyes made it hard for me to breathe.

"You," he whispered.

On my way to pick his brain, I didn't expect him to capture my mouth with his. When he did, my lips quivered with surprise and my hands clung to him. As he carefully savored the edges of my mouth, and I didn't want the blissful meeting to end. The kiss was gentle and excruciatingly good. Our tongues intertwined. The pause we took only left me wanting more, and he briefly grazed the tip of my chin and then pulled back.

"Get some rest."

For a moment, we sat there taking in the impact. I wondered if he'd been planning this too. Had this been his intention since the start of the day, when he first put the oval- shaped golden nugget on my pancake? There was no hesitation in him. He had no regrets. By the candid way he stared into my eyes, he was more certain about this than the roots were in trees.

I climbed out and shut the door, dragging my feet toward the front steps, completely baffled. Chris really kissed me.

The van's headlights blink twice before pulling off, as I stood there, watching him drive away. I didn't know how to respond to the captivating turn of events. Chris wanted me here as much as I wanted to be here. Yes, it was true. Finally, there was all the enchantment I'd been hoping for. Tonight, the stars weren't the only ones sparkling.

When I walked inside, the television was on, and the whole house was filled with foul calls and whistles.

"What kind of shit play was that?" Kevin bounced on the couch like a ping-pong ball. My mood was moving me in a completely different direction. My heart kicked fast as I embraced the fierce sensations taking over. I felt like a furnace the entire time I was with Chris. Raw emotions sprouted. I had this over-boiling desire to have more of him, to be completely imbued, and the very thought of him feeling the same, was more than I could handle.

I was a big girl. I could handle this guy. I couldn't believe I'd been under the impression our relationship would always just be a professional one. The day he asked me what I wanted on the hill, I tried to play it cool. I hadn't admitted how I really felt. Even though we spend the night together in Laguna Beach. Nothing physical really happened. Until now. Good thing my feelings overrode my lame attempt to be cool.

"That's it." I stalked toward the bathroom and turned on the water, filling the tub with honey and salts. It was time to calm this body down. Water filled the tub, and I stared at the accumulating bubbles before peering over my shoulder. The framed picture resting on the center of my bed, seemed to summons me, so I walked across the hall to the attic. Chris was beautiful in this photo, hovered beside me, strong and confident. Usually he appeared calmer, but in this ideal moment, his eyes were more intense, and completely unchained.

My gaze wandered through the other images in the picture. I found two girls sitting on a curb, and a toddler crying with his mouth gaped open. Further behind us, someone stood next to a soda machine, staring in our direction, wearing black boots. Squinting harder, I recognized their shape. Bumps rose beneath my skin. It was him – the man who'd been stalking me at the fair was also in this photo.

Naturally, my first instinct was to run downstairs and tell Chris about the incident. Maybe he'd be able to make some sense of this man's sudden appearance into my life. But Chris wasn't here. He was in the another meeting, and I didn't feel like making a desperate phone call. It wouldn't be appropriate, especially after we'd only kissed moments ago. We were both still on cloud ten. And yes, telling Tre was another option, but he'd only be annoyed at anyone trying to pull him away from the game.

Feeling thoughtful, I folded Blue's skirt onto the sink and loosened the rest of my garments. I wasn't going to play the victim role tonight. I wasn't in the mood for games, and I wasn't going to let some stranger in a picture ruin my inner celebration. This was my special moment . . . my birthday. And I'd had quite a birthday for an 18 year old, more than I could've expected or planned for.

Enough had transpired in one day to last a lifetime. I suddenly felt the need to take a load off, to stop my inquisitions about this stalker, and contemplate the meaning behind every beautiful scene I'd experienced today, like eating my birthday cake, going bungee jumping at the carnival, eating funnel cake, and being kissed by the most intriguing person I knew. Which proved Chris's true feelings.

So if this stalker-person was coming to get me, I wasn't going to be afraid; I wouldn't leave, or run away on a whim. My legs were staying right here in this palace, and nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to pull me away from my new land of happiness. My anchor was already thrown.

*

Later in the night, I rummaged through my suitcase and went downstairs, slinking through the back door in a cream-colored bikini. The basketball game was over, and the bath I took earlier was a fleeting tease of what I really wanted to do tonight: float, dive, and swim.

Except for the speakers and a pile of CD disks near the tables, there wasn't much else going on. Smoke rose to the surface of the water, warmth mingling with cold air. Fireflies emitted shades of emerald, and other hidden things hissed beneath them. Trees circled the square pavement, blocking off the rest of the forest. An igneous flash spread beneath the clouds.

Dropping the towel from my waist, I didn't bother testing the texture of the water. I dove straight in, and the temperature was perfect as I drifted to center. I started outlining the stars with my fingers, leaving the soles of my feet suspended, which made me think of owning a water bed. Images of the day crossed my mind, which were mostly of Chris, the stalker guy, and shop boy, Charlie, and his boyfriend Andrew. Those three things merged together were a lot to process in one night.

Suddenly, underwater, I felt a strange sensation slither up my spine like an electrical charge jerking me forward, and I quickly pulled up.

"Hello?" I wiped my eyes, scanning between the pool chairs. They were empty and so were the benches.

"Hello?" I let myself complete a full circle. Still, nothing appeared. This didn't stop me from getting out of that pool. As I lifted onto the edge and gazed over the surface, my arms started shaking, and I rubbed them, smoothing over the goose bumps. The same feeling I got when we first arrived in the parking lot returned; the thick, heavy sense of someone watching was more intense than ever. There was also something else in the water, too, floating on the surface.

Black veins rippled, shooting through the fluid like someone's spiraling fingers. My throat clenched. It was blood. The substance swelled at the center of the pool, and I closed my eyes again. When I reopened them, it was still there, the froth getting larger. Looking back at the house, I nearly swallowed a scream. Chris was standing at his window, staring down at me from his shadowy abode. His bedroom faced the back yard, and I wondered if he saw the blood, too. I'd have to tell him it wasn't my fault. The pool suddenly turned into a crimson lake. The plasma appeared out of nowhere. But at least I could rest in the fact he was watching me now. I'd be safe.

As I waved to get his attention, he'd already turned the other way, and his silhouette dissolved into the light. Before he disappeared completely, I noticed there was another figure keeping him company. Their white porcelain hand patted his shoulder, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Turning around, I realized the pool of blood was gone. The whole thing must've been a figment of my imagination. The moon's glare must've been playing tricks on me.

Clasping the patio door shut and locking it, I was unable to shake off my current state of mind. Even though the blood wasn't real, it was too much like my hallucination with the crow. Both appeared and disappeared in a matter of seconds. I had to tell Chris what was going on before they returned. The urgency drove me up the stairwell to the front of his room. Leaving behind a trail of water droplets to open his half-open door, I stared back at my tracks and considered my intention for being here. What would make me most happy tonight while it was still technically my birthday?

The voices caught me of guard. I pressed my ear against the door.

"You've worked with me for a long time. You've become like a son to me. If you asked for the sky, I would give it you on a plate. Most of what I've built at the Cove is because you've been loyal at my side. You've amazed me. Until now. I was going to give you the world. Which is why it's such a shame to see it go to waste because of your weakness for something you cannot have, young man. You don't have what it takes to be with Calise. Even I have not had such a privilege. You might even take it for granted. Would you let go of this inheritance, this fortune of taking my place, all for some childing fantasy that's already forbidden? And you know it forbidden."

"I'm not asking your permission."

"We'll have to see about this," he said quickly. He was clearly not pleased with Chris's response.

Who the heck was Chris talking to anyway? They didn't even sound familiar, or like anyone I knew. I was completely astounded. But I didn't let my excitement override my instinct to stay out of sight. As soon as this male figure stared making his exit, I stepped behind the door and waited on the other side until he was gone. His long expensive cloak dragged on the ground in an elegant and concealed everything else, including the shape of his head. The word 'forbidden' caught me off guard. I didn't know what to expect. Who was this complete strange telling Chris that being with me was forbidden? The way he said my name was mind-boggling, as though we were already acquainted in some impossible way.

I knew we weren't.

From the window, I watched the black limousine swerve over rocks in the parking lot and pause at the end of the driveway. Someone was definitely leaving our home, but still, I couldn't see the front of them, so it was helpless.

Chris stood inside his bedroom, facing the window.

My feet scuffed across the lumber, leaving even more streaks of water. When I looked up again, the rustic, medieval knob stared back at me with an inviting message to open the door. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. The undercurrent, the intuitive nudge, rang loudly, 'do not be afraid.' After a soft knock, I waited for a reply and slid through the crack.

"Chris?"

The room was dusky with some flickering light. Chris stood in front of his fireplace, staring at the flames. One of his arms rested against the mantelpiece. He was undisturbed by my presence, and I wondered what he could be thinking of. The familiar almond perfume struck a chord and immediately heated the inner parts of my legs. Candles burned in the four corners of the room. A small gust came through the window as I motioned closer to him. I waited for his gaze to turn my way, for him to peer over his shoulder in acknowledgement. He must've smelled the chlorine on my body, or heard my feet sliding across the floor. My breathing was deep on purpose. I would've called for him, but I was too engaged with the shape of his shoulder glistening in the night's reflection.

My thoughts scattered in every direction, creating multiple delusions, carrying out various scenarios that all ended with him slamming my body against the wall, and taking me. I suddenly felt myself melting over the invisible lines we'd drawn on my first day, in our quest to stay respectively distant. We shared a special moment in the van less than a few hours ago, and now this was a natural course. There was no reason we didn't deserve to have each other. Now I was here in his bedroom, following my bliss.

With only a small space between us, my fingers reached for him, until he turned around and snatched my wrists. "What are you doing?"

I felt the color flush from my face. Pulling my hands from his tight grip, I replied. "I saw you in the window. Then I overheard some man talking to you. I watched him leave in the limo. It's the same one from the carnival."

He stared back at the burning wood. "He's gone now," he replied. "You'll be meeting that old goat soon enough. We had some business to discuss. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be in your room resting."

I leaned into him, and whispered, "You know."

My confession ignited my heart and soul, as I studied his reaction closely. Coiling in the realization of my own feelings, there was no going back after I told him the truth. As I waited for him to say something in return, it was to no avail. He seemed more interested on the sparks of fire dancing under the full moon.

"My love for you is simple," I explained. "Don't resist me, and don't make it complicated."

"What?"

Sure, he'd given me all the signs of interest, saving my life, watching me from his bedroom window, letting me ride on the back of his motorcycle, serving me gold-nugget pancakes, taking me to the state fair, letting me beat him in everything, and then kissing me goodnight.

"You're the one I like being with."

Definitely crossing the line, and making myself completely open and vulnerable, I put myself on the line. But my offer was too sincere to be resisted. I knew Chris would give into me wholeheartedly, the way I gave into him, because there was no other way.

Slowly, he knelt to the ground, pulling me close. His jaw was flexed and determined with my waist clutched between his hands. He warned, "I'm going to kiss every inch of you." While he rubbed the tips of his face across my stomach, circling my naval, air escaped from the groan in my heart, until it felt like I couldn't breathe. The base of my neck titled toward the ceiling, as he kept his promise, one caress after another. And when my eyes closed, the umbra of silence crackled between us. There was no rush in him. Nothing holding either of us back. Complete ataraxia overtook my body, and an unexpected tremble pulsed through the seat of my spine, even though he hardly touched me. Sensations spread, heating up the hallow of my stomach. The way he grazed over my skin was incredible. His mouth parted, like gentle feathers, tickling, igniting my wild. As much as I wanted to escalate, to ravish him, he wouldn't let me. He took complete control of our sweet rhythm together, and God was it sweet.

Our nest was suddenly interrupted by an untimely force. Someone was ringing the door bell at a time like this. I couldn't believe it – I wanted to scream at them, to make them disappear and never come back. I didn't even want kids anymore. I just wanted Chris to keep going, to pretend like he couldn't hear our new arriving visitors, and let this quiet nightfall take us over. I knew the musketeers weren't coming back home until much later. They were out celebrating the winning basketball game for their favorite team. They also had a key. So it must've been someone else ringing our door bell.

He stood up easily, kissing me one last time. "Stay here."

Watching him exit, I saw the way he was fully dressed and unruffled. There was no evidence of our engagement, except for the memory foam on his lips. His lips were the proof of our togetherness; the proof I was everything he wanted. While outlining my belly on the places where he searched, I found each point tingling with magic. He'd made a road-map to paradise across my skin. This called for a dance of celebration.

Here and there, I spun around the room, circling my feet on the now wet wood. Each time I encountered the portrait on his wall, the large picture grew more and more captivating. She and I were so identical, it was almost baffling. Fire crepitated, lashing across her face and materializing the room into something celestial. Her enthralling eyes whispered things, making the marrow in my bones quiver. Out of pure awe, I drew closer to Chris's bed to see the details of her face. But the moment my legs found the edge of his bed, my foot knocked against a hard object.

"What the?" I peeked underneath the bed, drawing back his gold comforter and searching for the cause. My fingers pulled out a small black box. There was no lock or opening or a safe code to enter, just pure black smoothness, which was weird. I'd have to find out how to open this later.

When Chris returned, a half and hour later, I'd almost been a victim of sleep-hood. My legs were sprawled over the bed, with one hanging over the edge. I was supposed to greet him sexily once he got back, but I could barely keep my eyes open. After all, it'd been a long day. The moment he closed the door behind him, he walked towards me and started removing his shirt. Immediately he pulled the warm piece of clothing over my almost naked body.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

In one quick motion, he pulled me up, letting me hold onto the back of his neck. He found my ear and whispered, "Tucking you in."

"I'm not sleepy," I confessed. "Don't you want to make sweet passionate love to me?" While I said those words, I was surprised at the flood of dizziness taking over.

He replied, "Yes. I never stop."

The cool air sifted in from the open window, which should've alerted me, but I was done. The last thing I remember was the shadow of Chris covering me with a quilt and taking a seat in one of the wooden chairs. He sat there shirtless and watched me for the entire night, sitting forward attentively, like I was the most important thing in existence. His thumb gently crossed over my cheek. Even though my eyes eventually closed, I knew he never left my side.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

That morning I spent the day absorbing the sunshine on his bed. I even imagined his arms were still trapped around me. Eventually I showered and changed. Now I wore a large black t-shirt that covered most of my bathing suit, falling beneath my knees. As I slowly started to leave, shutting Chris's door, I realized the bolt didn't snap automatically like it had before. Usually whenever someone left the house for the day, the front door would give its signal and all the rooms would routinely lock on their own. This time that didn't happen however. So I used the opportunity to glance once more over the memorable room.

It's shape and attitude had changed since yesterday. It looked much different than before. Life was a sweet invitation into the unknown. My heartbeat was alive and levitating. Waking up to the faraway sound of birds chirping and creatures crawling on the dew of the day was breathtaking. A multifarious of colors boldly gleamed on my skin. Sunflower dust floated upwards, finding their homes within the rays of dawn.

Only hours ago, my eyes had opened. There had been a note waiting beside me at the end of his pillow.

I'll be back for you.

The message was simple enough. He must've had errands to run, and things to collect, which was fine with me. This allowed for me the opportunity to fill up the whole day with thoughts about him. Being in his room last night had been an unforgettable feature, starring us. This must've been what it felt like to be close to someone you truly cared about . . . to be in love with one person. I could really get used to this. I wasn't afraid to admit it. From now on, I would be my new sanctuary. My new home was next to him, by his side.

As I walked barefoot to Tre's room to retrieve my I Pod, my hair still dripped consistently onto my shoulders from my morning shower. I hoped Tre hadn't left for the day. I really missed listening to my music, and he hadn't mentioned anything about returning my things like he said he would. Even with this on my mind, my smile was victorious. It took up the majority of my face. I couldn't help it. This day was already the perfect start.

Turning at the end of the hall, I noticed Blue's door was halfway open. I would've ignored it altogether, remembering the last time I eavesdropped on her and nearly got tackled. But a luminous gleam came from inside, and I backtracked to find the source.

Peeking through the cracked door, I saw a glowing at the center of the bed, and I tried to make out the anonymous object. I half expected Blue to come charging out like an angry bull with turbo wings and slam the door in my face. When that didn't happen, I pushed open the door (all the way) and saw no one else was in the room.

The first thing to catch my eye was a cute red blouse hanging from an office chair, stationed in front of a creatively decorated desk. There was a built-in ledge hoisting up a laptop. Pens and markers were stashed inside mugs. A collection of books were stacked on top of shelves; romance novels and action stories. Framed pictures of people I didn't recognize sat along the wall.

In the bathroom, clothes were scattered in the middle of the floor, along with towels, balled up in the sink. I returned to the bed area and found white carpet complimenting the ceiling, which was a dark exotic sapphire. The bedding was made up of four white pillows and two gray comforters, all with signature lining. Everything else was either blue or mingled with black.

A small pile of gems dazzled in the center of the bed, and I started to inspect them, remembering the day when Chris showed me his diamond library in the basement. These gems were a bit different, though. They were slightly purple in color and had definitely been sprinkled on my pancakes yesterday, which meant Blue did contribute something to my birthday gift.

As I admired these jewels, sudden footsteps were approaching from down the hall, and they were stumping fast. With no time to make it out the door, I leaped inside the closet and tugged on the knob. The loose thing wouldn't close. Some hanger was in the way, and I mumbled under my breath. The last thing I needed was for Blue to find me in her shit.

The bedroom door flew open and she walked in, snapping the door shut. Crammed next to a pile of sweaters and trying to stop a heel from digging into my foot, I did my best to be quiet. If I breathed the wrong way, it was all over. Bags of clothes crinkled at my side as I tried to hold my breath. Blue didn't seem to notice. She crouched down to the floor and started looking for something under the bed. I realized the only person who could save me was Kevin.

If only he showed up right now, he could distract her and lead her out of the room, like he always did, and then I could tiptoe into the safe-zone undetected before she found me buried in her closet.

Just then she tried reaching for something under the bed, bu it appeared to be too far back. Finally, she slid out a large brown duffel bag and plopped it on the bed, unzipping both sides. Burning bright with ideas of escape, I almost missed her leaving. I had to do a double-take before finally returning the jewel. Her bag was still open. I was there were clothes and notebooks inside, and a strange bottle sitting on top. The bottle's title snatched my attention – it was the same bottle my friends used to fool around with when they couldn't get their hands on something heavy. The label read Flinstone Multi Vitamins berry . . . the capsule form.

What did Blue need this for? We already had vitamins to take, and I went ahead and opened the cap and dashed a seed onto my palm. It looked like a brown sandy coffee bean, and an exact replica of Morning Glory seed. I knew she wasn't getting high. She was a very focused person in the house, and she took her work very seriously. I couldn't imagine Kevin using anything like this and hiding it in a kiddie bottle. Like the vitamins I'd been taking. My mouth dropped.

"No she didn't."

I couldn't believe this. It was one thing for Blue to be annoyed because I was the new girl; it was another thing for her to take matters into her own hands and practically poison me. If it turned out to be true, and she was guilty as charged, her and I were going to have some real serious problems.

After a short thoughtful moment, I grabbed the bottle from Blue's bag and marched out of the room. She was nowhere to be found in the hallway, so I turned the other way and shuffled down the staircase. I could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and I marched over to the sink, lifting myself onto the counter.

"Hey, Chicken Legs," Tre said from the table. I barely even noticed Kevin sitting beside him.

"Hey," I replied, grabbing my bottle of vitamins from the top shelf. When I compared them, there was no denying it. These vitamins I'd been taking were identical to the Morning Glory Seed capsules.

"Everything cool?" Tre asked.

I shook my head and left the kitchen with both bottles under my arm. There was no point in getting Tre or Kevin involved until I knew for sure what was going on with these vitamins. Turning the corner, I found Blue sitting on the living room couch with her knees curled, watching television.

"Hey, Blue, could I talk to you for a sec?"

Her eyes stayed on the screen. "Talk."

I stood there for a moment, deciding how to approach the situation in a calm way. "Did you fill my vitamin bottle with Morning Glory Seeds?" I shook the drug bottle. "These are Morning Glory Seeds. I found them in my bottle just now – the one Chris gave to me. If you did, it makes sense why they looked different from the others."

She didn't budge right away. She didn't even speak. She wasn't taking me seriously. But that was fine; I could be serious enough for the both of us. "You spiked my vitamins?" I stood in front of the television.

"So what?"

I blinked twice. "Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. So what are going to do about it?" She rested her arms across the sofa, stretching out her legs.

"Okay, seriously, you swapped my vitamins with flower poison and now you're saying 'so what'?"

She turned off the screen and looked at me. "Because you shouldn't be here, Calise. Everybody knows it. You know it. Why don't you go back home to your little rich girl spoiled life and let us real humans do our job. If it makes you feel any better I meant to give you back your regular vitamins today. After we hung out for your birthday, I got over it. Okay?"

That did it. She had definitely crossed the line. I moved in front of the table and set down the pills. "And if I didn't go home, you were going to kill me?"

"It doesn't kill you, Idiot. I'm not a murderer."

She sure had some audacity. My mouth fell open. "I know exactly what it does. It trips you out. You start seeing things. Your head spins. This whole time, I thought something was wrong with me," I admitted. "I can't believe you would stoop this low. The entire time, you've been doping me up with hallucinogens, making me think I was losing my mind. It's been because of you."

"I thought you'd get used to it. I thought you might even start liking it."

I laughed mockingly. "You could go to jail for this. I could take you there myself. Filling my bottle with dope is illegal."

"About illegal as marijuana."

"It's still invasive, Blue. If you have a problem with me, come say it to my face."

What'd I say that for? She stood up and marched right in front of my face, our noses barely touching. "You're a problem, Calise. If I had a zit on my ass, it'd be you."

Fire ignited in my bones, and a sudden burning sensation spread over my body. In a swift motion, I turned around and made the choice to take the high road and walk away.

"That's what I thought," she said.

Since she had so much to say, I grabbed the leather belt from the armchair and snapped it twice. Her eyes grew. My eyes were big and wide with focus.

Just then, Tre charged in between us, grabbing me by the stomach and pulling me back. "What the hell is going on in here?" he asked. Good thing he showed up when he did. There was no telling what the two of us were capable of.

"Did I miss something?" he asked.

Blue threw her hands up. "Get her away from me, Tre before I do something stupid."

"Doing stupid things, that's your middle name Blue," I said.

"What's the problem in here?" Chris entered. He turned to us for an explanation, but my nerves were too wired up to answer. Blue wouldn't look at him either. She stared out the window with one hand on her hip.

He gave a long, extended sigh. "You two, in my office."

*

The day started off sunny and bright, like it was going to be the best day ever in my life. And now I was here, sitting next to Blue in Chris's office. She was actually proud of herself. She didn't deny it. She didn't bow her head in shame, and she didn't apologize. She couldn't have known for sure if the poison was going to kill me or not. Everyone's body reacted differently. The chemicals inside those capsules were stronger than pot, and my body could've taken it the wrong way. If she'd given enough to me in a high enough dosage, my brain could've exploded . . . my heart could've stopped.

"Calise, talk to me."

Chris sat on the edge of his desk, leaning forward. We were in his office. There was a wide enough space between Blue and me that we couldn't reach over and start clawing each other's eyes out. Our arms were folded, and neither of us would talk. Chris searched my face. I made a strong, strenuous effort to stare at the frames in front of me.

"Fine," Blue cracked the silence. "Like I said before. You know how I feel about her being here. She needs to go. She's not one of us. She didn't take the real test. Why does she get a free ride? We've got a handful of prospects who have spent years training for this job, working their asses off for an opportunity like this one. If I see a weak link our team, I'm going to do us all a favor. She's a problem. Anyone who can't handle the dirty part of the job, they shouldn't be allowed on our team in the first place."

Chris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Is this why you felt the need to attack Calise?"

"I didn't attack her. I did the right thing, because she was asking for it."

No, Chris, I thought. No one is 'asking' to be poisoned.

Blue continued talking, staring me straight in the eye. "If you didn't go into my room like the snoop you are Calise, none of this wouldn't have happened. I told you I was going to make it right."

"A snoop is nothing compared a criminal, or a possible murderer," I shot back.

Chris quickly turned my way, further seeking an explanation. "What happened, Calise?"

It was because I confronted her about feeding me flower dope. She could've killed me. But I didn't want him (or anyone else) in this house fighting my battles. It wasn't his business to know that. I could handle Blue myself.

"If you don't like the fact I'm here, I don't know what else tell you. I'm not leaving," I affirmed. There was a long pause as my words stung the air. "This is my home now. Everybody in this house better get used to it."

Chris lifted from the desk and grabbed his cell. "Both of you are adult enough to handle your differences. It shouldn't get this far or lead to anything hostile. I don't want this happening again. Is that clear? You can go."

"Perfectly clear, Coach." Blue went out ahead of me, pacing out the door.

Chris rolled his head back and stared down at me. "Is this how you finish your birthday?"

My face loosened at the sound of his voice. "With a bang? I'm kidding. She started it."

He lowered his head and smiled. "Let's take a walk."

Then I nodded and trailed behind Chris downstairs through the patio door, past the swimming pool. This confrontation with Blue gave me mixed feelings. For one, I was disappointed at the fact she was so desperate to get rid of me. Even though she changed her mind and planned on doing the right thing supposedly after we left the carnival, still she was tripping. On the other hand, I was relieved knowing there a legit reason for my hallucinations. I hadn't been crazy after all. I wasn't allergic to the woods. I did wonder, though, if it meant my dreams and visions about Jennifer would stop altogether.

Chris led us to the fork in the road on the right side of the mansion, deeper into the woods. With a sigh of apprehension, I thought about the incident, which took place less than twenty-four hours ago. "I came into your room last night because I saw something in the pool."

He paused, curiously staring me down. "What'd you see?"

Initially, I wasn't going to tell him about the imaginary paint erupting from the pool last night, or the mystery man watching me at the state fair. But now, it felt like the right time to speak my mind.

"I thought I saw black paint in the pool yesterday, after you dropped me off."

He frowned. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I wish I could tell him it was probably the result of those pills Blue gave me. "It was really dark outside. The woods scared me. I thought I heard some noises. Also the guy who was following me at the carnival was also in the picture we took." Finally, I confessed the truth.

Carefully, he squinted and held onto his pockets, perhaps measuring his own intolerance for my confession. I knew he wasn't going to be happy to hear any of this. "You should show me the picture."

"I will. Anyway, when I saw you standing there on your patio last night, I wanted some company to keep my head clear."

He bestowed a nod of approval. "Forgive me if I sound narcissistic. But I'm glad something scared you enough to make you come running upstairs to me."

In a matter of seconds, I was reminded of my own shivering from the imprints he'd left on me. Where they'd been. I could've ran my fingers down, with him standing right there. How to word the wordless? I just stared out into the woods. There was nothing left to say.

"I have to leave tonight," he said, taking advantage of the splendid silence we'd created. A new chemistry floated through our bodies, making it easy to communicate, to share our feelings. "I'll be away on an assignment for a week."

"A week." All my surroundings shrunk in an instant. Pure disappointment shook me. I wouldn't be going on the plane right with him, because we weren't partners. He'd be all alone on some assignment, probably in another faraway country. "Where?"

"London."

Of course. "Have you ever thought about having anew partner? Is Jennifer the real reason you work alone? Because of what happened to her?"

"Yes," he finally answered.

Without asking for it, my hand slightly brushed into his. "Do you get lonely sometimes? Seeing everyone with a partner and not having one?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't say I'm lonely. But I like working alone. For the most part, I can focus better."

Our path eventually led to the same fork in the road where Missy had tripped out, where the red scarf had blown. The frondescense of our surroundings carried the unique aroma of damp mint, and I went alongside Chris as strolled past the blanketed tree tops, like he had on the night I followed him here. Icy ripples tingled up the back of my neck as I watched him tread down the colorless crypt.

"We're here," I uttered automatically, with a familiar ringing in my gut.

He turned to me. "How are you?"

"Good. I feel like I know this place." As I stood there paralyzed, staring at the roaring bobs of shrubbery, the trees t weren't even smiling. My attention darted to the sun's exquisite coating, wrapping around us like a warm blanket, causing mature roses and dainty beamed and flowers bloomed, then back to the side where the scarf had blown. The feeling of being haunted returned.

"Where are we going?" I answered his question with my own.

He chuckled, guiding me along by the waist. "Relax. I know the way," he said warmly, leading us down the darkened path, and graciously lifting branches. "How's your family? Did you get in touch with your dad?"

"Yeah, I got to talk to him for a second. He sounded miserable when he answered the phone. But he's being dramatic. I know they're doing fine without me. I'm just glad I can move on and be happy now."

"Does he want you to come home?"

I nodded. "I think every dad secretly wants his daughter to come home. But I'm eighteen. He'll get over it."

Chris chuckled. "He cares about you. Would you ever go back to visit him? I could make that happen for you, if you want."

I could tell Chris was genuinely interested in my desires and well-being. He wanted my life to be healthy and right, and I appreciated his earnestness.

"You didn't have to live with them," I replied simply. The words rolled off my tongue like truth serum. "I'm staying right here. You can't talk me out of it. You can't make me go home. I've already passed the pre-course assignment. This is where I belong now."

His eyes softened, as he nodded. "Okay."

Before I could say anything else, he walked farther ahead and lifted a twig above my head, proving he knew something about this place that I was only getting ready to find out. I liked how willing he was listen and share pieces of himself. Without even trying he was the most beautiful creature in the universe.

In front of me, there was a picturesque lake enveloped in a vast line of willow trees. A shade of bronze overlooked the garden, emitting from the orange sphere. I froze half-hunched beneath the branch. Bright lies emerged. Water streamed under a cemented bridge, exactly like the one in Jennifer's sketch. This was also exactly like the dream I had of her standing across the lake.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Admiring the beauty, I raised my head to the sky and stretched my arms. The smell of grass and wet earth filled my nostrils as I took an extended whiff, spinning in circles. With my feet planted in the soil, I shut my eyes and let the falling sun consume me. I had to give Jennifer her credit; her sketch was an exceptional mimic of the real thing. The lake really did exist, here, on this particular path.

"You probably come here all the time." I motioned toward him. "Do you come here a lot? I would do it just to shut the world out. This place is exactly like the sketch in the attic. Jennifer must've loved this place."

Chris knelt to the ground and chucked a rock across the water. "You're right. She did. She spent most of her time here."

For so long I'd been postponing the subject because we were always training or running errands or hanging out and having a good time. The ideal window had presented itself, and I was ready fo him to ease my inquisitiveness. This was one of the few times we could finally put our true thoughts on the table. "Can you tell me more about your old partner, Jennifer?"

He stared ahead. "She's hard to forget. Jennifer. Even when she ran away." He paused, allowing his words to catch up to his feelings. "She was the best. She was at the top of our league. She didn't even need a partner, but she held a competition anyway, just to see who could win her. And I was the one who did it. For six long months, she and I were a good team, an odd team, but we were together," he admitted. "We were odd because she was taking me under her wing so-to-speak and showing me the secrets of what made her great."

I took a deep breath, taking in his words. "Oh. Do you want to keep her a secret?"

"No. She's not a secret. Just a memory I don't usually talk about. I think you can understand what I mean."

I considered Dianne. "You're right, I don't talk about my mom either. But that night at your house, I told you everything about Dianne because I thought we were being honest with one another. Would you have mentioned Jennifer at all, if I didn't bring her up?"

"Of course," he uttered. "Only a matter of time. I don't want to be distracted by my old stories. I knew you'd get the whole scoop eventually."

What he said made perfect sense. Being a Collector and training for this kind of profession was a lot to digest in such a short time. This alone kept me more occupied than ever.

"Is it awkward for you having me here?" I decided to push the envelope. "Do I remind you of her?"

He met my gaze again with soft eyes. "You remind me of her in more ways than one."

My brain started ticking, putting the pieces together. "She's the reason you helped me at the operetta . . . the reason you followed me down the hall. She's the friend I remind you of. It's her. You could've taken me to the hospital, but you brought me to your home instead, all because I look like her."

He peered ahead, sorting out more rocks. Then he smiled. "I knew you weren't Jennifer. She's not here anymore. There's still so much you don't know, Calise, and I'm not permitted to say everything I want to. So you'll have to trust me. Right now, you don't know how things are run here. Or your true placement. Or the way things are organized. There's still a lot I haven't told you. But, when the season is ripe, I will."

I was quite satisfied with his explanation. I trusted him, and knew answers would flow to me soon enough, as Chris put it 'in due season.' "You still don't know what happened to her, do you?"

Rocks crunched beneath him as he turned to me. "Yes, I do know what happened. But I'm not going to talk about it."

"You being there at the operetta, was that a coincidence?"

He leaned in, touching my elbow. "Nothing in life is a coincidence, Calise," he answered simply. "You don't have to be offended by something that isn't true. I followed you because you fascinate me."

"I'm not offended," I admitted. "I just don't want every time you look at me to see someone else."

He leaned in, touching my elbow. "I'm not doing that."

"Of course you are," I replied. "I'm staying in her room, and you're being nice to me because of her. She's the only reason you saved my life. That's not fair. I've got things that make me who I am, things that make me different. I can't be myself with you if you're always seeing some dead girl." I waited for him to respond, to say something that would make me feel less like an idiot and more like a woman for confronting him. "I don't want to be her shadow."

He stood and walked up to me, standing a space away. "Listen to me. It's not like that. You're nobody's shadow, Calise. Please understand that. When I look at you, I see someone with her own voice, her own mind. I can see everything in you."

I caught a glimpse of his penetrative gaze, the gaze that enraptured me so many nights ago when I was lying on his sofa. He'd been so sad and broken about me almost dying. Looking into my eyes, it was as though he was grieving his own beloved. The moment came back to me, but he'd already moved forward.

"We should head back," he insisted.

An hour ago I would've listened and followed him to the ends of the earth and back. But now, I needed to be alone in the forest and clear my head. "You can go. I'm staying here a little longer."

He sighed, keeping his calm. "Do you know the way?"

"I'll be fine," I turned away and folded my arms.

He nodded, and I watched him head back into the woods. I couldn't understand what was coming over me. I was like a loose cannon about to explode. My emotions were flaring all over the place. After he was gone, I reluctantly considered the alternative. If he really did care about his old partner, then maybe it was an honor, not a crime, to be granted access to her room. It wasn't like he forced me there in the first place; I asked to stay in the attic. I asked to be a part of his life. He'd offered me the other room, but I said no.

What was so wrong with being in her room anyway? If he and Jennifer worked together before, so what? I couldn't fight her ghost.

"Hello, Calise." The low husky voice sent a shiver down my neck, and for a moment I stopped breathing. Breathe. Spinning around, I watched the unexpected guest lean against the tree in a black shirt and slacks.

"It's good to finally meet you, formally. Do you know who I am?" he asked.

I was so shocked I couldn't even scream. "You're the guy who's been following me."

"I have," he admitted. The wrinkles on his face gave him away to be at least forty, despite his boyish charm. Though he was dangerously handsome and mature, he could easily be calculated as a social misfit. "I'm here visiting Chris. I wanted to introduce myself."

"How do you know Chris?"

He smirked and answered simply, "We work together."

"Why didn't you say something at the fair? You just stood there and followed us around."

"I'm here to make you an offer, Calise. Do you know what that means?"

"I think so. You must be one of the Guardians."

"That's right." He stepped from the tree, poised and graceful, practically walking on air. His hair was pure black, flowing past his shoulders. "I heard about your recent achievements with the course material. I heard it went very well. Congratulations."

"Thanks. But if you're here visiting Chris, why are you doing this without him?"

His smile fell. "I don't need an audience. I only wanted to formally introduce myself. And now that I have, you can rest on my word. You're one of us now." He walked towards me. The outline of his jaw tightened, and his closeness made me uncomfortable, especially when his eyes trailed over my face like he wanted to devour me in one gulp. He must've sensed my tension because he turned away. He was instantly caught by the wind. The end of his nose seemed to drift into a spider's web. "You've been quite the showgirl for someone who's had such little training. I think you'll be the perfect addition to my garden," he said, and there was no more playfulness in his tone. "Join us. That is, unless you want more time to think it over."

There wasn't much to think over. This Guardian fellow said everything I wanted to hear; I was already one of them.

"I accept."

"Good," he replied. "You've made a wise decision. I'm going to give you everything you want, Calise. And more. That's a promise." He smirked and proceeded to leave. "You'll know who I am soon enough."

"Wait. What's your name?"

He peered over his shoulder. "Jack."

Before I knew it, he was gone. The way he talked to me, and the way he looked at me was unusual. I knew he was probably the ringleader of the Guardians; I could tell by the way he carried himself that he was special and important. It was part of his job to watch after me and make legitimate offers. But he still gave me this undomesticated vibe, like he could do anything he wanted, like he was used to getting his way.

Checking the surrounding trees, I made sure there was no sign of him anywhere. This Jack character was really fast on his feet. One minute he was by the tree, the next minute he was standing right in front of me.

Once I was sure he'd left for good, I sat on the edge of the lake and started throwing rocks. So I was officially one of them. Soon, I'd be getting the spade tattoo on my arm, like theirs, and the stakes were high, because I still needed to perform well in their eyes.

Rustling leaves broke my concentration, and I looked over my shoulder as a wandering crow flapped its wings against the water. I stood and moved in closer. The bird froze for a moment, staring at me like it was trying to say something. It's wings spread largely before fluttering off, high above the tree's crown, cawing in the wind. What was that all about?

As if a lightning bulb went off, I remembered the dream.

This was the exact spot where Jennifer had been standing in my dream. My gaze shot to the pile of rocks on the edge of the lake. They were inches beneath the water, and my fingers glided over their smoothness. With a sudden nudge to lift the stone, I pulled one up, cradling the weight. Then I shrieked, dropping the stone.

"Oh, my God!" I couldn't believe it. I knew I couldn't be hallucinating. This wasn't anything like the visions I'd been having. The statue I picked up was identical to the one resting on the porch. And it was very real. Examining the crow sculpture further, I found there was a keyhole its center.

"What the . . .?" I pulled a sharp pin from my back pocket and started lock-picking the gap.

The stubborn thing wouldn't snap, like it was made especially against lock-picking. So I grabbed the necklace from around my neck where the key dangled and brought it out in front of me. It was the same key I'd found under the statue – the locket key that was too small for a door and too big for a diary. Sticking the key into the opening of the crow statue, I discovered it was the perfect fit. And I swear I could hear the waters whisper . . . Calise. It's in the water.

This time, when I looked at my arm, there was a small shaped spade outlined on my skin. It was the same area I'd been scratching ever since we first pulled into this driveway. The mark wasn't fully darkened or visible like the others. It was more of a barely noticeable imprint. But there was no denying its shadow.

I now wore the spade tattoo.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

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