Shadow Walker (Neteru Academy Books) (30 page)

“Tami, if who- or whatever is taking people decides they want you, there is no way Stefan could protect you!” Sarah’s voice was escalating.

“And how do you know that?” Tami said, getting truly angry now. Her voice was rising to match Sarah’s. “Look, Sarah, I appreciate the concern, but believe me, I know what I’m doing.” She smiled again. “And Melissa is going to know it, too.” She got up, went to her dresser and pulled out her pajamas. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced and left the room.

Allie and Hyacinth grabbed their robes and dashed after Tami, no doubt seeking the juicy details of her excursion. But there was something in Tami’s tone—something beyond the anger and know-it-all note—that rubbed Sarah raw. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but something was not quite right. Sarah’s PIU sounded. and she quickly looked at it, expecting Ayana’s message. But it wasn’t her older cousin. Wil had sent a text! He’d kept his word.

She stared at the simple message:
Hi
srry I missed u @ dinner—drama—have a gr8 nite.

Sarah’s fingers flew across the keys, typing in
U2,
then she pushed send, pressed her PIU to her chest and closed her eyes.

T
ami having a twenty-four hour attitude was nothing new. It was something to be weathered, like the flu. But what really distressed Sarah was that Ayana never got back to her. Finally she saw Yaya at breakfast, and her cousin told her she’d been caught up with a project last night—which they both knew was a lie—and that she’d give them tips on the dance later. Ayana even took the news about Tami with a resigned shrug, which completely blew Sarah away.

And once again she was left all alone with things swirling in her head and no one to confide in. Her best friend had an attitude, Ayana was mentally AWOL—off in la la land with Brent—and somehow telling Allie and Hyacinth about Wil just didn’t seem the same.

The three friends filed into Mrs. Gulliaume’s chemistry class, minus one—Tami. She was already inside and seated at her desk, her mood aloof. Sarah let out a deep sigh of annoyance. Tami could be so stubborn, and moody didn’t even begin to describe her. Later. They’d deal with it at lunch.

Sarah slid into her seat, noticing Val’s sly smirk, which oddly made her feel better. Even Donnie’s goofy grin and failed attempt to bump fists with her as she passed felt welcomingly familial. Miguel gave her an it’s-all-good nod. It felt safe, having a lot of people around her who she knew, deep inside, she could count on. Al was still being relatively cool; his attention diverted fifteen different ways by the endless selection of pretty girls in the class. And then there was Wil’s welcoming smile.

“Chemistry, ladies and gentlemen,” Mrs. Guilliaume said, waving a large kettle and spoon around, “is art—not science.”

The teacher smiled warmly at each student as she happily glided around the room while she lectured, her hefty frame hidden beneath a large floral print shift, accentuated by Earth Mother sandals, and an apple seed and handmade bead necklace. One long, thick, auburn braid hung down her back. She looked like an out-of-era hippie who was having a grand time running a classroom. Even though one could call her a little quirky, Mrs. Guilliaume was fast becoming Sarah’s second favorite teach after Mr. Everett.

A very studious-looking girl near the far wall raised her hand. “But, Mrs. Guilliaume, what about the periodic chart and all the stuff they showed us in the mini class yesterday and—”

“Yes!” the teacher said, running down the aisle to deposit her kettle on a burner. It immediately started to smoke, so Mrs. Guilliaume paused as Kimberly Wilkerson, one of the Olfactories, turned green from the smell, and bent over and hurled. Instantly the giant toad that was positioned by the side of the desk opened its wide mouth and caught the contents of her stomach. A loud “Eeeww” rose up in unison from all the students as three more Ollies followed suit.

“You may be excused,” Mrs. Guilliaume said enthusiastically, and she waited as the four sick students dashed from her classroom. Those who remained made faces of disgust, but the teacher waved dismissively, staying determinedly cheerful. “As they should have explained on day one of class, this is why I’ve placed waste buckets by my Olfactory students. We must be good planetary stewards and recycle everything. A good nose is a must for developing the finest of blends and the richest of recipes.

“There is a science of molecular combination, certainly, but there’s also the fact that no two compounds of the same element are ever of the same concentration. That is the art—getting the strengths of the mixtures right, based on the variables of the concentrations—and we shall learn to go beyond the basics to create chemical composition art.”

Sarah just stared at the woman, her mind a million miles away and focused on finding Ayana as soon as she could. At least her little shadows hadn’t come out of hiding since the Amy Feingold incident.

When the bell rang, Wil got up and stood by the door. He looked at her and smiled, but somehow Val body blocked her in the aisle, and it was next to impossible to see around him, given that he was more than a full head taller than her.

“What’s the rush?” Val said, teasing her.

“No rush,” Sarah said, laughing, trying to get past him.

“Did you talk to T?”

“I tried to catch her in the hall between classes, and you can see what good it did. Now she’s totally not speaking.”

“Hey,” Val said, shrugging. “What can you do?” He glanced over his shoulder at Wil and then looked back at Sarah. “Remember, I’ve got your back, okay?”

“Yeah, Val, I know that,” she said with a slight frown, not understanding why he seemed to take exception to Wil.

“Cool,” Val said, and then loped past Wil, giving him a curt nod of recognition.

“Hi…” Wil said, when Sarah made it to the door at last.

Sarah could feel Allie and Hyacinth hanging back, wide-eyed.

“The big mixer is tomorrow… save me a dance, okay?”

Sarah smiled, her pulse racing. “Sure… okay.”

“Catch you later, then—getting together with the guys from track right now.”

The moment Wil jogged away, Allie and Hyacinth accosted her.

“OMG, Sarah,” Allie whispered. “What is going on with you and Wil?”

Hyacinth squeezed Sarah’s arm. “Is it my imagination, or…?”

Sarah just shrugged. “It’s nothing.” But she couldn’t stop herself from beaming.

The balance of the day crawled by. Ayana was still preoccupied, but the teachers had handed out assignments as if they were handing out lunch. There was so much homework to get done, and all assignments had to be in the following day, on pain of being barred from the dance.

Everyone was on their best behavior all day Wednesday. Amy Feingold had come back to class with a newly repaired tooth but gave Sarah a wide berth. In fact, the only static Sarah and her friends got consisted of a few evil glances, which was just fine with her.

But by the end of Blends lecture, she was thrumming with anticipation. She was going to dance with Wil, and she could hardly wait.

However the real challenge would be what to wear tonight. It had come across on their PIUs—no uniforms required at the luau. A massive cheer had rung through the halls. Students could wear their own gear tonight. But for her and her friends, there was only dread. They’d never lived “off compound.” They weren’t sure what was considered the latest and hippest fashion. Sure, they’d gone on PirateNet to see what was what and asked around casually, so no one would know how out of touch they really were, but the feedback was vague. Just jeans, boots and a nice blouse.

Back at the dorm at last, Sarah studied her burnt orange midriff sweater with cap sleeves and chain belt. She’d seen the same style worn by an outlawed band star, although she wasn’t bold enough to put a black lace bra under it and leave the front half opened—even she owned a black lace bra. Still, it gave what little figure she had a lift. The straight-legged jeans she wore seemed okay, and the metal hardware around her waist gave her a bit of edginess that she prayed looked cool. She just wished she could have done something new and dramatic with her hair, but at least allowing it to simply hang down on her shoulders was a departure from her perpetual ponytail.

Although nobody said it, she knew all her friends were thinking the same thing as they fretted and hunted through their clothing choices. They, like her, only owned whatever their parents had hot-zapped in from the outside world. Everybody depended on supplies coming into the compounds by way of her dad’s white Light energy whirls, which had the upside of the cargo being safe and the down side of complete parental censorship.

Allie and Sarah stared at each other as Tami flung clothes out of drawers and closets like a mad woman while fussing at Hyacinth to make herself useful by reading somebody’s mind. What had previously been a neat, orderly room was demolished by clothes all over every surface as the four friends tried desperately and in vain to reassure each other. Tami’s previous attitude had been replaced by a new anxiety over not looking cool.

Ayana could have helped big time, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Try her again,” Tami said, looking at Sarah. “Where the hell is Yaya?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll text her again, but you have got to relax.”

“Do you actually wanna go to the first mixer wearing something your Mom picked out for you?” Tami shrieked, holding up a floral print shirt with puffy sleeves from Hyacinth’s dresser.

“I’m not going. I—”

“‘Cinth, concentrate!” Tami begged. “Surely you can get a glimpse of somebody’s brain, for the love of Pete. Where is Yaya—how could she leave us stranded like this? ‘Cinth, you aren’t concentrating!”

“Quit it, Tami,” Allie said, hurling a tank top at her. “The poor girl is exhausted, and everybody around here with half a brain knows to lock it to all Clav invasions. We already asked people and even looked up stuff on the Net, okay?”

Hyacinth ran her fingers through her damp hair. “I would bust into somebody’s mind if I could, but right now I can’t, Tam! Wait, no I wouldn’t—it’s not ethical.”

“What?” Tami turned away from her closet. “Ethical? Are you crazy? Desperate times call for desperate measures. What has—”

“Stop,” Sarah said. “I’m going to try something else. Just find something to put on while I text Ayana’s friends.”

“Finally somebody with a plan,” Tami said, settling down and beginning to drag on a pair of jeans.

Sarah picked up her PIU and frowned. She had texted Ayana an hour ago asking if she wanted to go to the party with them but hadn’t heard back. She let out a frustrated sigh. She thought she and Yaya were past the my- boyfriend-thinks-we’re-too-cool-for-you thing.

All right, don’t jump to conclusions, she told herself, and shot off a two-way text to Darlene and Tina.

Have u seen Ayana?

A few seconds later Darlene wrote back, Not w us. Prb w Brent somewhere.

Doin somethin nasty! came Tina’s reply.

Ignore her, Darlene wrote back.

“Thanks, I will,” Sarah said, tucking her PIU into her fitted jeans. She didn’t like thinking of Ayana with Brent, let alone doing something nasty with him. That guy would always be a jerk, no matter how much Ayana thought he could change.

Oh well, she would just see Ayana at the dance.

“Well?” Tami asked, waving her hands.

“They don’t know where she is,” Sarah said flatly.

“But did you at least ask them what to wear?”

Sarah just stared at Tami.

“Du-uh,” Tami said, walking away and shaking her head.

Sarah pulled out her PIU again and sent Ayana’s friends another message. K about Ya. But what 2 wear?

Cool jeans, boots, t-shirt, tank top, blouse, Darlene wrote back. Easy.

Yep, basic, Tina texted.

Thx, Sarah sent back and then sighed. She turned around and faced her roommates, and held up her PIU for them to read the messages. “We’re panicking for nothing.”

“Okay, I do feel better,” Tami said, the edge gone from her tone. She held up a sexy, blood red lycra tank top that accentuated every curve and slipped it on, then began inserted large silver hoop earrings. “And for the record, ladies, lose the pastel undies. Black, red, animal print, purple, go for something—anything—dangerous. Not all virgin white, lilac, baby blue and pink, puhlease. We’re going to a
party
.”

“Huh?” Allie said, glancing at Hyacinth. “Why? Like, who’s gonna see those?”

Tami shot Sarah a meaningful glance. “One never knows… so a lady should always be prepared.”

“Oh… my… God, Tamara,” Hyacinth said, and closed her eyes.

“Do not listen to her,” Allie said, slipping on a pink V-neck camisole. She turned away from Tami and began putting in her small silver hoops. “La la la la la, Tami, we can’t hear you.”

“I am not listening to her,” Hyacinth said, and then tied the pretty floral silk sashes of her halter top together. She slipped on a violet headband and shook her hair out over her shoulders.

Tami just laughed and shrugged as she slipped on her high heel biker boots, her jeans fitting her like second skin.