34
Leaving the youth hostel was an awkward situation. Mrs. Lynn was a little too teary and dramatic for Jacoby’s liking, and mine, for that matter, and she wouldn’t let us walk away in peace.
“Come visit again!” she called, her shoes clickety- clacketying down concrete steps as she rushed towards us with her extended farewell.
“Er, yeah, of course, Mrs. Lynn,” I said uncomfortably. Jacoby merely stared at her like she was deranged. “But we’ve got to get going. It’s already…nine in the morning, and we’ve got a full day of sight-seeing ahead of us.” I linked my arm with Jacoby’s. “Right?”
He forced a smile, physically exerting himself from the effort. “Yup,” he called. “Thank you.” I could see his mouth experiencing spastic attacks as he tried to smile.
“Oh, that’s no problem, Jacoby. Aloha!” She flapped her hand in a wave.
Zzzt. I risked a glance down at Jacoby’s feet and found his purple plug flowers.
“Uh, aloha.”
“Enjoy the rest of your trip, dearies!”
“Yup, thanks Mrs. Lynn!” I said, and turned swiftly before she could run after us and do something ridiculous, like scoop Jacoby and I into a bear hug.
We both chose not to comment on the unnecessarily flamboyant good-byes.
I wasn’t sure about Jacoby, but my mind had already meandered its way over to the apartments. I felt the same burst of disappointment; for a second there, yesterday, I really thought we could find Sandra.
Our route to the bus was halfway to the apartments. As we waited at the stop, I couldn’t help but glance at the towering buildings.
“Maybe,” said Jacoby, his mouth curved into a sheepish smile, “we could circle around to um, see if Sandra’s taking a morning stroll?” He pushed back his hair and squinted at the buildings, then back at me.
I nodded. I knew what he was implying, and there certainly wasn’t any harm in checking again.
Third time’s the charm? I thought, the warm honey-yellow rays of hope (also known as the sun) dripping onto the sidewalk and houses.
Neither of us spoke a word as we walked. Today would be our last chance. Really our last chance. We couldn’t afford to wait around anymore. Yesterday, when we walked away, we’d still had the option of coming back today, which, surprise, surprise, we were really doing.
Jacoby threw out an arm and caught me in the midsection when we were about ten metres from the area. “Careful. I think we can just stand further back a bit,” he said. Despite his self-assured manner yesterday while he was dealing with the security guard, he looked at the apartment entrance with worried eyes.
I could relate. I didn’t want to get thrown out, even if we were leaving Caston today. I wondered whether word had gotten out yet that two kids had gone missing from Portsdale.
I decided to bring the topic up with Jacoby. “Think we should wear disguises from now on?” I asked.
He thought for a moment, though his eyes never left the apartment entrance. “We should. But there’s not much we can do if our faces appear in the newspaper, or on television.”
“Sunglasses, maybe?” I suggested.
“Maybe.” He turned his attention to me, taking in my face, with an intense concentration that made my skin prickle. “Let your hair down,” he said, taking a step closer, while I subconsciously took a step back. “You always have your hair up,” he continued.
I hesitantly tugged my hairband out, nervously combing my fingers through when I realized I must have had a huge dent in my hair.
Jacoby continued to study me, curiously, as did a slim daffodil. “It looks fine.”
“I don’t like having it down,” I mumbled, my fingers twitching. I hated the dent more than I hated hat hair.
“Why?” he asked curiously, moving to stand in front of me. “Lift your head.”
I did, grudgingly, and looked up at his face. I made sure my expression read, “Look at what you’ve done, now”.
“It looks fine. I don’t know why you’re worried.” He frowned and shifted his eyes back to mine. “Why don’t you like having it down?”
I frowned right back and shrugged my shoulders. “Because it’s a big mess.”
He looked at me intently. Smiling shyly, he broke our staring contest and shook his head, his hand coming up to run through his hair. “It isn’t a big mess.”
I took another step back and looked down at the ground. I hadn’t noticed there was someone approaching and accidentally bumped right into—him? Her?
“Watch it, Princess,” the person snapped, laying a hand on my back and shoving me away. Jacoby caught my shoulder before I could stumble.
I whirled around and scowled at the girl. A black leather skirt peeked out from underneath her trench coat, and from the sheen on her Chucks, they were leather as well.
“Sorry,” I said, not meaning it in the least. If she hadn’t been cross, I would’ve said it sincerely.
The girl rolled her eyes, gave her blonde highlighted hair a flick, and pushed past the two of us. She zipped open a front pocket in her messenger bag and took out a set of keys.
“She lives here,” Jacoby murmured, abandoning his spot next to me and stepping towards the girl. “Excuse me,” he said politely.
She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. Thick lines of eyeliner and crazy long eyelashes framed her sea green eyes. “Yeah?”
“You live here, right?”
She smirked and tilted her head back, taking a good look at Jacoby.
“Yeah, I do. Not looking for stalkers, though.”
“Of course not,” Jacoby replied smoothly. He crossed his arms and indicated the buildings with a tilt of his head. “Do you know how we can reach the Oakensfields?” he asked.
The girl stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.
I joined Jacoby and rested the side of my arm against his. He leaned into me a little, giving me a nudge.
“Care to let us in on the joke?”
“So you’re the two that’ve been looking for the Oakensfields,” she hooted, eyes glittering. I noticed a small gap between her two front teeth when she grinned. “Well, you’re looking at one.”
“Sandra Oakensfield?” Jacoby asked, eyebrows raised in a sign of hope, and surprise, too.
The laughter slipped from the girl’s face. She pursed her bubble-gum-pink lips and shook her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “No,” she said softly. “Sandra Oakensfield was my mother.”
Was? My blood curdled and I glanced up at Jacoby. His eyes were hard and he stared at the girl with a hint of indifference. I wondered where his sympathy went.
“Was she taken away?” he asked.
“Yeah. About a week ago. Were you the one that called?” He nodded.
I remembered the voice on the other end of the line. She sounded scared. I connected the two together with ease. She’d cussed at the top of her lungs until Jacoby hung up on her.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. Her mouth was set in a straight line. On any other face, it would’ve indicated sincerity, but on hers, it was plain mocking. Her heavily drawn eyes flickered between Jacoby and I, amusement putting a spark in her green irises. “I was in a stage of hysteria.” She twirled the key around her finger. “I’m over it now.”
I looked at her in surprise. She’d lost her mother, and she was “over it” already? I checked her over for signs of insanity.
I wanted to go home so badly, and here she was, “over” having lost her mom?
“So whad’ya want, Flower Boy?” She grinned at Jacoby’s wide eyes and leaned forward. “Looking for that famous hideout?”
She can help us, I thought, excitement zinging through me, momentarily replacing the incredulity I felt over her words. She’s an Other, too.
“Yeah.” Jacoby’s voice was quiet, and he studied the girl with guarded eyes. “Think you can give us a hand?”
“Heard about my mum’s skills then, yeah?”
We both nodded.
“What’s in it for me?” she asked with another gap-toothed smile.
“Don’t you want to escape, too?” I cut in, eyes narrowing. I couldn’t believe this girl. She was standing there with a smile, over her mother’s disappearance and not the least bit worried. She was an Other, too, wasn’t she?
“They left me alone when they took my mum away,” she said, lips twisted into a grim smile. She held her hand out in front of her and studied her dark nail polish. “I figured, if they were really after all Others, they would’ve taken me, too. But they didn’t. They left the rest of my family alone.”
“Then we’re asking you for a favour,” Jacoby said, “if you’re a Guider, of course.” This was it. It was either a yes or a no, and our hopes depended on her answer.
The girl scoffed and reached up, pinching Jacoby’s cheek with two fingers. She smiled up at him and let go, giving his pink skin a swift pat. “Like mother like daughter, isn’t it?”
Jacoby uncrossed his arms and raised a hand to his face. He rubbed the spot where she’d pinched. I could see two indents from where her nails had dug in. I wanted to hiss at her like a territorial cat, and felt ridiculous right after for thinking that.
“So, will you help us?”
This is it.
“Like I said, what’s in it for me?”
I wanted to rip her hair off.
“Look, I don’t see why you have to—” Jacoby nudged me and cut off my sentence, whispering,
“We need to speed things up.” His eyes darted repeatedly to his right and I followed his gaze just as casually.
Two men, standing there, sunglasses on and arms crossed. They looked like bodyguards, but their repeated cracking of their necks gave them away. What surprised me was why they weren’t on us yet—they certainly hadn’t wasted their time at 7-Eleven.
“What did you have in mind?” Jacoby asked, continuing the conversation.
I shot him a wary glance and he placed a hand on my back.
“How about an introduction first, Flower Boy?” the girl said. She smiled derisively, reaching up to scratch her head and peeking at the other side of the street, too. She laughed.
I cringed at her use of a pet name, even though it certainly wasn’t directed towards me.
Jacoby smirked. No, Jake smirked. This wasn’t Jacoby. He pulled his arm back from its place on my spine and held his hand out to the girl. “Jacoby.”
“Jacoby what?” she said, smiling. “Tell me, or I’m calling you Flower Boy from now on.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Implying you’re going to come with us?”
“I didn’t say that. Talk, Flower Boy, looks like you’re running out of time.”
“Jacoby Harold.”
She smiled again and accepted his hand, giving it a firm shake. “Beatrice Oakensfield. But call me Bee.” She dropped his hand and didn’t even bother looking at me.
Anger boiled inside of me. First she snapped at me for accidentally bumping into her, then she went around acting like she and Jacoby were best buds, and now she wasn’t courteous enough to even ask for my name? I had half a mind to shove her and tell her we didn’t need her.
Her smile faded and she sighed, turning her head slowly to look at me. She was a couple inches taller, and I hated needing to raise my head to meet her gaze.
“And what about you, Princess?” she said, sighing like she was bored just from looking at me.
“Jasslyn,” I said, silently daring her to ask for more info.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She turned her attention back to Jacoby, and I was left seething, steam practically pouring out of my ears at her sarcastic voice. She was a female version of Jacoby, except maybe, oh, I don’t know, fifty times worse.
(**A/N: Second update coming! Thank you thank you thank you guys for 500+ votes! I can't believe this, gah. QotC as always: What were your first impressions of Beatrice? :P)