"Where were you last night?"
Jess' voice reached me through the noise in the dining hall the next afternoon, and I glanced up from my laptop to see her and Ashley approaching me at our usual table.
I shrugged off the attention her question brought me and returned to furiously typing out our chemistry project while I ate. "I went out for a run."
Jess' brows furrowed as if she didn't believe me. "You didn't even make it for dinner. When did you get back?"
"About half an hour after curfew. I passed out on the soccer field."
I caught their concerned expressions, and Jess immediately dropped down beside me, squeezing my shoulder. "Sorry I wasn't around, Jacks had me doing some spying. Wanna head up to our room for lunch?"
Spying for Jackson, of course. I shook my head and slid my laptop over to her. "Nah, here's fine. I finished the Chemistry thing—you want to double check it?"
With a laugh at our potential failing grade if she didn't, she took the laptop. As she looked it over I began listening to the conversations happening at the table behind ours where the Hellhounds Elite sat. Something was going to be happening. Something was always happening. Our job was to be prepared to avoid it, or flip it on the Hellhounds.
Our table was in the perfect spot for invisibility, just outside of their aura to go relatively unnoticed and close enough to hear almost everything they said. The beauty was the Elite barely recognized the rest of us when they weren't seeking us out specifically—their world revolved around them and the drama of their war. Like mine did, given that I was still sitting at this table, being a good recon soldier out of habit. Why did I care what Katia was talking about anyway?
"How are you feeling, Kia?" Vivienne's words were genuine and careful, but followed with a yelp, it was clear that she'd been kicked under the table.
"It's okay, Hads! I'm fine, Vivi."
"But you haven't eaten anything..."
"I'm fine!" Katia stood abruptly. "Besides, I don't want to talk about it anymore. Least of all here."
Interesting.
As Katia stomped away, I noticed her outfit. Where she would normally be wearing trim pants and a fitted or slim cut top, she was in lounge pants and a crumpled t-shirt under her leather jacket.
Odd.
Jess' eyes followed Katia out of the dining hall, a thoughtful worried look on her face.
-.-
Several Thunderbirds seniors found their cars thoroughly covered in post-its this morning. Good job to you Hellhounds that carried out this expertly crafted decorating job. We especially love the lights and racing stripes.
-.-
I was getting some annoyed looks as I twirled down the hallway. I wasn't dancing; that wouldn't cause as much annoyance. No, I was fighting an invisible opponent, ducking punches and gracefully side stepping attacks. I flushed when I almost kicked a girl as she attempted to pass me.
"Sorry," I mumbled and waited a moment before returning to my fight while waiting for Jess, whom I hadn't spent real time with in about a week.
She furrowed her brows at me like I was insane. To her, and pretty much all of the other girls here, I was. I'd learned to dance for my mother, but I showed more aptitude for the martial arts my father did. So, I was an enigma of a girl who chose to practice dance, not for the sake of bettering my dancing, but so that I'd be a better, more graceful fighter.
I whirled around a door that was opening and once again ignored the look I got from the Hellhound Elite that emerged. Falling into the familiarity of a kata, the movement ingrained in my body, I continued to kill time.
The door remained open, and conversation floated out to my ears—like a veritable fly on the wall, I listened in. I didn't know why, maybe out of habit, maybe because I took pleasure in knowing everything about everyone. It's funny how a pair of earphones can bolster a false sense of privacy. "Oh, her?" Vivienne drawled, "She can't hear us. Seriously Katia, how are you feeling?"
"Like crap," Katia sounded every bit as crappy as she said. Interesting. Block, punch, pivot. Block, punch, pivot.
"He's not worth it, Kia," said Hadley's husky voice. Step, punch, step, punch, step, punch, pivot.
"I know, I know. I shouldn't be letting it bother me. But I feel so stupid!" Cross, block, punch, pivot. Cross, block, punch, pivot.
"It's his loss, Katia. He will never have another girl as amazing as you." Knee, step, cross, block, punch. Knee, step, punch, knee, step, punch, pivot.
"I still can't believe he cheated on you with Ah—Ouch!"
Knee step, punch, knee, step, punch, pivot.
"It's fine, Hads, you guys can say it. I'm not going to fall apart. I just need some time to get over it... I can't believe mumble mumble with him."
Cross, block, punch, pivot. Cross, block, punch, pivot.
"You did?!"
I bowed, just outside Katia's room as both my basic and their conversation came to an end. Almost as if on cue, Jess came down the hallway clapping. "Nic! That's awesome!"
I pulled my earphones out and smiled, bracing myself as she hurtled down the hallway to hug me.
"Sorry, I kept you waiting!" She offered no explanation, but flickered her gaze curiously to the now closing door of Katia's dorm. With a shrug, I dismissed her lateness and we headed to the parking lot; lunch today was off campus.
-.-
Can we all utter a resounding ICK for this one? The Thunderbirds went a classic route this afternoon and replaced the ice cream with tubs of butter. We thank you for our future breakouts.
-.-
I set my phone down, thankful I hadn't been there to witness that disgusting mess.
"So, Jess, what's up?"
"Um..." She shifted uncomfortably under my hard gaze. "Not much, why?"
I looked at her long and hard. What was happening here? She wasn't telling me things anymore. She was spending all her time with Ashley.
"Nic, don't worry!" She said as if she could read my mind. "We're still the best of the best. I can't really talk about this one, that's all. And I reeeally want to tell you!"
"Recon?"
"Yeah."
"Is it about Katia?" I rearranged the toppings on my sandwich, dropping all my tomatoes onto her plate.
"No. Why?" Her answer was too quick.
"I thought you were watching her yesterday at lunch."
"I was, but that's because she was dressed like a slob! I mean, seriously, things have to be pretty bad for her to go out in public like that!" Jess spiked her pickles on a toothpick and handed it to me.
"They are." I said
"Wait what? What did you hear?" Her eyes lit up at the prospect of juicy gossip. I laughed at her as she leaned over the table, like it would make hearing me better.
"While I was waiting for you, my music wasn't on..."
"You sneaky little..."
"What's Katia's boyfriend's name again? Parry, Parker?"
"Paris!" I already knew this of course, but teasingly made her clarify anyway. "Paris Van Kesterin."
I grinned. "Oh yeeeeah. Anyway, can we talk about the test in Mr. Chapin's tomorrow? I have no idea how I'm going to pass that, I can't even figure out the practice questions!"
"Nicole Isla Kemper you tell me what you heard right now! The suspense is killing me!"
Apparently Jess wasn't in the mood to study for math. I raised an eyebrow as I nibbled on my lunch, slowly savoring the perfection of my tomato-less, pickle-full chicken club.
"Fine!" She whined realizing I was withholding my answer till I got hers. "I'll tell you, if you tell me."
"They broke up. Paris cheated on her. After he slept with her? I think. The last part was kind of hard to hear."
"Oh my God! Really? That poor girl! Actually I don't know why she was dating him, because the whole world knows that both him and his dad are The. Biggest. Players. Ever."
This was true; Paris and his father Calvin Van Kesterin, hottie soccer player extraordinaire, were always in the tabloids. Just for being eye candy, or for a litany of unconfirmed relationships.
"The whole world only knows what the tabloids tell them," I corrected her. "Were Katia and Paris ever in a tabloid?"
As she shook her head, I knew I'd made my point. They'd been dating for about a year, and despite going to different schools, they spent all holidays and the entire summer together. But somehow the press had no idea she existed, at least in correlation to P.V.K.
"I guess that explains that train-wreck outfit yesterday." She didn't look surprised by the news, sighing before she elaborated. "Jacks heard a rumor about them bumping uglies. He wants me to keep tabs on Katia to find out how much of it is true before Kellen finds out. I think he wants to be the one to let him know."
I suddenly felt sick. Were they going to use that against her? She was heartbroken, and in the pit of my stomach, I knew that Kellen knowing could not be good. I wished I could take back my words and lock them deep inside my brain, never to resurface again.