School of Secrets (The Perkins School for Self Improvement #1)

Chapter 5

"So you're the roommate." she doesn't ask, but I nod anyway.

Amber sighs.

"Yes, your ex is the closest thing I've ever seen to a devil worshiper. Just get over it, I hate him and I'm always going to." she declares, turning a calmer gaze to me, "That's my roommate. We were roommates last year and, having known her for a year now, I can safely say Creighton doesn't bite."

Creighton ignores Amber, glancing at the screen of Derek's computer again. She never looks away from the screen as she begins typing a series of numbers.

Derek glances at me.

"Right now," he tells me, "you're in the presence of the two highest GPAs in our grade. You already know I'm not one of them."

Amber shoots me a smile.

"I'm number two in our grade, thanks to Creighton. If it wasn't for her, I'd be first."

"You're welcome." Is the retort from Derek's desk chair.

Amber snorts, then without hesitation, glances back to my expression.

"So, what can you do?"

I stare back at her, trying to figure out what she's getting at. She's slapped a hand over her mouth, like she's just said something she wasn't supposed to.

"What can I do?" I wonder, trying to think of anything remarkable that could impress her, "I'm not exactly talented or anything. I used to take karate, so I can fight, but that's about it."

Amber rolls her eyes at me, like she thinks I'm playing some sort of joke on her. Derek is shooting her several different looks, while Creighton ignores her in favor of the laptop on the desk.

"Really, you can tell us," Amber steps toward me, smiling eagerly, "I know sometimes it's ... weird to talk about but ... I've probably heard of someone here who can do something a lot worse."

"I told you, I don't really do," I air quote, "anything. I took karate. I played video games back home. That's it."

"You're telling me you're not talented?" Amber presses, looking at me with wide eyes, "People come here because-"

"Amber!" Creighton ceases her typing, spinning around in her swiveling chair to glare ferociously at her roommate, "People come here to become the people they're meant to be, and not everyone knows what their talent is. Some of us have more obvious skills than others."

Amber's expression betrays her embarrassment when she looks at me again.

"I-" she squeaks, one hand flailing through the air, "Sorry. You're new, I shouldn't interrogate you."

"It's fine." I dismiss, taking in her skateboard and the helmet she still wears, "What's up with the board?"

Amber tilts her chin, as though readying herself for battle.

"I don't have a car," she says quickly, "I'm not old enough to have my license yet, and my parents ... they couldn't get me a bicycle like a lot of the other kids here. So, I got a skateboard."

"That's cool and all," I tell her, wondering why she's still wearing the helmet and glancing at the clock every few minutes, "but why don't you take that off?"

Amber takes a deep breath, like she's about to say something unpleasant and she needs the strength to get it over with.

"It's my first day of work. I have to be at my job in town by ten till ten, and I'm going straight there from here."

This throws me for a loop. She's here, with the rest of the wealthy kids. My businessman father is probably poorer than a lot of these students, but he'd never have dreamed of letting me get a job.