Indelible

The following night Steve, Cherie and I took the key and snuck into the old pool room. The room still swam in a flood of grief, just as it had when we’d talked to Sophia.

  The blueprints Cherie had found said the room should be underneath the landing of the stairs at the head of the pool. We crept down the stairs, each carrying a flashlight. Steve wore a backpack and I had the key nestled in the inside pocket of my woolen jacket.

  Cherie panned her high-powered flashlight all along the stairs. We stood next to the old diving board, examining where the schematic said the room should be.

  My eyes rested on the glass murals behind the pool depicting the swimming swans. Between them, about the width of a door, was a section of tile.

  “I think it’s right here,” Steve said, tapping the tile with his knuckles.

  “The tile has never been re-worked or anything so there has to be a secret switch or lever or something,” Cherie said, moving her flashlight all around the outside edge. “Well, let’s start looking.”

  We felt along the tile, the murals, the stairs, and even the diving board, but found nothing.

  “What now?” I asked Cherie.

  “No idea.”

  Steve gave us a grin. “Time for plan B.” He unzipped the backpack and pulled out three huge hammers.

  “I love you!” Cherie threw herself into his arms and peppered his face with kisses. Steve was bright red when she finished.

  Only my best friend would consider the means for a possible felony charge romantic. We each picked a hammer and looked at each other.

  Steve gave us a formal bow and swept his hand toward the wall. “Ladies first.”

  Cherie hoisted up a sledgehammer and swung it into the tile between the two murals. The tile cracked and pieces crumbled to the ground. She swung again. I took a turn, during which they both kept their distance. Aware of my clumsiness, I wasn’t offended. Finally, Steve took a few good whacks at it, and soon there was a hole big enough to see through. We stopped and shone the light in.

  “There’s a door handle!” Cherie said. She stretched one of her skinny arms through the hole and twisted it. “It’s locked, but that’s okay. We have the key.” The three of us, mostly Steve, took turns getting rid of the tile until the full door was visible. The metal door was colder to the touch than ice.

  I handed the key to Cherie, who slid it into the lock. She turned it—and nothing. “It doesn’t work.”

  “May I?” Steve took a turn at it too, but without any success either. “It won’t budge.”

  “That isn’t possible!” I pushed him aside and tried it myself. Cherie shone the flashlight on the knob. While the key fit perfectly, the keyhole had a large area that was empty, like a mirror image of itself.

  “Now what?” Cherie asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Let me try something.” Steve got on his knees and took the key out. He turned it upside and it fit into the other half of the lock. “It fits but it looks like it needs two keys.”

  “It needs both keys?” I asked, hoping I had heard wrong.

  “It does.” Cherie frowned. “You have to talk to DJ.”

  v

  The next day I waited for DJ outside the cafeteria at lunch.

  He spoke first. “Hey, Cupcake. They have a few questions for you. Tonight at eight.”

  “I’m not interested in talking to them.” I folded my arms. “I need to talk to you.”

  “How has Brent been feeling?”

  “Fine,” I lied even though they must already know the truth.

  “Really? So he hasn’t been missing school for doctor appointments recently?”

  He had missed almost all of last week, but he was back now. DJ stuck his hand in his pocket and lowered his voice. “They know you have it.”

  My spit caught in my throat. “I don’t have anything.”

  I led him to a grouping of chairs.

  “They saw the defaced statue.”

  I sat down on a comfortable armchair upholstered in worn leather and hid my shaking hands under my thighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said trailing behind me. “And I need it.”

  His admission caught me off guard so I made one of my own. “So do I.”

  “So you can save your boyfriend’s life.” He stuck his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. “You should understand that I have my own loved one who needs saving.”

  “Who?” I already had my suspicions, but needed to hear him admit it.

  “Amy, alright? It’s Amy.” He pulled at a loose thread on his backpack. “She was your friend too. Don’t you care about her?”

  I remembered his beautiful little sister with her infectious grin, compared to the sickly girl I had seen at the hospital.

  “Now you understand. I need that second key too. If I have both, I can really get them to deal. Maybe we can work something out for Brent, too.”

  “You need to think before you hand either one of them over to those guys.” I spoke slowly, letting my words seep into him. He had to think logically, not act rashly. “Don’t you want to know why they want it?”

  “Who cares? Protecting Amy is the only thing that matters.”

  “Do you really think it will end there?” He couldn’t honestly believe that. I’d only met the group a few times and I knew better than that. Not to mention, it was in every movie and book out there. The bad men break their word. You can’t trust them.

  “I will have a huge bargaining chip.” He drummed his fingers against his chest. He sounded frantic. “This is my way out. If you give me the key, I’ll make sure you and Brent are part of the deal too.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my black skirt. “If you let me borrow your key, I will give them both to you when I’m done.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “If you’re planning on giving the keys to the Clutch and thinking that’s the end of it, then yes.” I took a deep breath and gave him a persuasive grin. “DJ, I need them both for one day, and after I’m done, I’ll give them both to you for your bargaining chip.”

  He sat down on the arm of my chair. “I’ll deal, with one condition. You have to let me come with you.”

  “No, that option isn’t on the table.”

  He hunched his shoulders. “Fine. Then you can’t use my key. I warned you to stay away from them, but you didn’t listen. I didn’t have anyone to warn me, but you did. You got yourself involved you can get yourself out.”

  His sudden shift in attitude left me breathless and I slid back in my chair, distancing myself from him.

  He sighed and I wanted to believe he had true regret in his eyes. “Yara, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just, it’s Amy. I care about you. I do. . . but it’s doesn’t matter. It’s my fault she’s in this mess. And even as much as I care about you, I’d pick her every time.”

  With that he strode away, leaving me adrift like a helium balloon released on a windy day.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I meant it when I told DJ I had no intention of meeting with the Clutch again. But Brent had another nosebleed at lunch and my worry for him made me reconsider my decision. It was almost like the Clutch read my mind, because that afternoon I had received a note in my mailbox informing me they wouldn’t be projecting and I should come in my body. It wasn’t signed, but stamped with emblem of the Clutch. This would be the first time I would meet them with my body and not just in astral form. I didn’t know why, but the idea of not projecting during the meeting frightened me.

  When I entered the meeting room I noticed Mr. Crosby no longer hid in the shadows with the rest of the Clutch, although he still wore his hooded robe “We’re happy to see you Miss Silva. We are disappointed, however, that you didn’t immediately turn over the key. We will take it now.”

  I seemed to have lost my ability to speak, because I didn’t say anything.

  “Very well. In light of Mr. Springsteed’s medical condition, I
thought you’d be interested in working with us.”

  “No. As a matter of fact, I’m not.” I studied one of the golden candelabras. My voice was full of accusation. “Your cure didn’t work.”

  The room filled with laughter. “Oh, but it does work. But it isn’t a one-time treatment.”

  “And you failed to mention this before?” Dread slithered through me because I knew where this was headed.

  “Miss Silva. We are men of business.” He leaned back in his chair. “You never asked before if it was an ongoing or a one-time treatment.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Obviously the fault lies with me.” Apparently I could still snark a little.

  “Let’s not waste time placing blame.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said before standing. I was too tempted to stay.

  “We thought you might say that. But there’s something you really must see before you go.”

  He opened a laptop on the table in front of him. He hit play, and a video of Cherie, Steve, Travis, Audrey and me stealing the key from the statue danced on the screen in front of me. “And now? I have friends at Columbia and Stanford who might be interested in this video. Destruction of school property is a pretty serious offense. Please sit back down.”

  I felt faint as the blood rushed from my face. It seemed like time slowed around me as I considered all the possibilities. And what refusing them would mean. I had been concerned about what they could do to Brent, and to me, but now all of my friends’ futures hung in the balance, as well. Cherie, Steve, Travis, and Audrey, all of them were involved because of me, and now I was responsible for all of them.

  “What would you want me to do?” I dropped into the chair like a sack of potatoes.

  “Finally you talk reason.” He closed his computer. “First we need the key.”

  “Is that all?” I asked between clenched teeth.

  He steepled his fingers together. “No, then we would need you to look into Judge Gutierrez’s office. Find any of the notes he’s been taking on his most recent case.”

  “You want me to break in somewhere and spy on someone?”

  Mr. Crosby nodded. He motioned toward his laptop. “Is that really anything different than what you’ve already been doing? Like the night you broke into the school’s record room? We have video of that as well.”

  “But those were matters of life and death.”

  “So is this.”

  “But. . .” I didn’t bother finishing my sentence. This felt different. This felt wrong. I knew it didn’t matter to him, so instead I asked. “How many treatments will Brent need?”

  Mr. Crosby smiled at me like he was conceding a point. He lifted up a large green glass bottle with an unusual s-shape to it, filled with a thick liquid. “He’ll need to take it the rest of his life. His condition is chronic.”

  Was that the cure? I was tempted to grab it from his fingers and make a run for it. He must have seen the intention in my eyes because he pulled it closer to him. My eyes never left the bottle.

  “So that means that I’ll have to keep earning them from you?”

  “Yes.”

  And that was the catch: a lifetime of servitude. I would always have to do their bidding. But what happened if I said no? Could I really do it? Could I really turn them down and ruin all my friends’ lives for my own personal freedom? If I said no, would Brent die? Was my integrity worth it? Lives would be ruined because of my choice, either way.

  “I need some time to think.”

  “Take all the time you need. Although you might want to hurry. For your young friend Mr. Springsteed, time is already running out.”

  v

  “I don’t care about the video,” Cherie said. We were sitting in the commons building courtyard. We hadn’t even bothered to take our books out of our backpacks to pretend to study.

  “Maybe, but your parents will.”

  Cherie took a deep breath. “I know, but my dad is a great lawyer and they have a lot of money. I’ll be okay. But you . . .”

  “I won’t be.” I ran my finger along the grooves in the stone table. “We aren’t that rich. I’m barely able to afford tuition here. My dad doesn’t know any powerful lawyers and I know your dad won’t defend me.”

  Cherie’s cheeks colored. “My parents love you.”

  “They do. Until they see me as the one who ruined your future.” I dropped my forehead onto the table. “And what about everyone else involved? They were only trying to help Brent.”

  “Yeah.” She twisted a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you really considering saying yes?”

  I turned my head so my cheek rested on the table. “Yes.”

  “You can’t do it. It’ll be way more serious than destruction of property. I’m thinking rummaging around a judges chamber to find out how he’s leaning is a major offense.” Cherie folded her arms on the top of the table. “If you ever do anything to displease them they’ll hold it over your head. They’ll own you.”

  “Hey guys what’s up?” Audrey asked as she sat down in an empty seat at our table.

  “Yara’s about to sell her soul, that’s all.”

  “I think I missed something,” Audrey said. Cherie caught her up to speed and Audrey grew more and more pale as the story went on.

  “They have us all on video?” Audrey had tears brimming in her eyes. “I’ve never even had detention before.”

  I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry you got involved in all of this.”

  She grabbed a tissue from her pencil box to dab away her tears. “I wanted to help Brent.”

  “I don’t think anything will help him now except for the cure. They’ll only give him one little vial at a time. I don’t even know what I’d need to do to get the whole stupid, green bottle.”

  Audrey paused mid-nose blowing. “Is this green bottle shaped sort of wavy? With some thick liquid inside.”

  I paused at her words, trying not to get my hopes up. “How did you know that?”

  “Because I saw a couple of those and some little test-tube things of it sitting on Mr. Crosby’s desk last week. He was just putting them back in his safe when we came to interview him for the yearbook.”

  “Brent’s cure is here at school?” My thoughts started churning. “In a locked safe.”

  “Not just any safe,” Audrey said. “It was high end. It had a fingerprint recognition thing and an ocular scan. It was like out of a spy movie.”

  “Oh.” My swirling thoughts stopped. “Then it might as well be in outer space. I need a plan.”

  “A plan for what?” Brent sat down across from me.

  “I’m trying to figure out a way to help you without getting the rest of us in more trouble.”

  “Please don’t do anything stupid. It isn’t worth it.” Brent laced his fingers through mine.

  “Yes it is.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “You told me that last year and I’m the one who got Thomas out of your body.”

  “With a major assist from me,” Brent pointed out. “Whatever you have planned, please include me.”

  “I will. At least this time someone hasn’t kicked you out of your body, this is—” a sudden idea sprang into my mind, a way to gain access to the cure. It might mean kissing everyone’s futures goodbye, so I’d have to clear it with them first, but I knew this could work.

  Brent frowned at me. “I don’t like that look in your eye.”

  I grinned at him. “I have a plan.”

  v

  I kept patting my backpack to make sure the brownies were there. I clutched the bag close to me to try and hide my nerves. I could lie on my feet easily, but this would require more skill than I usually needed.

  “He’ll see you now,” Teri, Mr. Crosby’s secretary, said.

  I was shaking as I stood up. She held out a dish of candy, offering me one. “He’s all bark. He’s really a softy.”

 
The sad thing was, she really believed it. I declined the candy and walked into the enemy’s lair.

  Assistant Headmaster Crosby was sitting behind his mahogany desk, his arms folded across the shining top, his lunch on a plate in front of him.

  “Yara.” He smiled without warmth. “You’ve caught me eating again. Please come in. I expected you a few days ago. You held out longer than we thought you would.”

  It had taken me that long to get everything in place. “You knew I would change my mind?”

  He shrugged and sunk deeper into his leather chair, motioning for me to take the seat on the other side of his desk. “We know how sick Brent is. We know you care. It was only a matter of time.” He flicked the reactionary on his desk, and the silver balls bounced back and forth. “After his last seizure, we were sure you’d come around.”

  I bit my lip and stared at the lion sculpture on his desk, hoping my anger would look more like grief. I glanced at his clock and frowned. “I have to go eat lunch so I won’t be late for class.”

  “I can write you an excuse. Stay until we’ve finished our conversation.”

  “Can I eat here? I knew I was seeing you so I picked up a sack lunch from the cafeteria.” Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “Be my guest.”

  A genuine smile lit my face. “Thank you.”

  My hands trembled as I pulled out my sack lunch. The cafeteria had provided me grapes, a turkey sandwich, some chips and a bottled water. What they hadn’t provided were the two brownies I placed on his desk. I saw him eye them before turning back to his own lunch.

  “So what are you going to need me to do?” I asked.

  “You’ll get the details later,” he said cutting into his salmon.

  “If you don’t want to talk about my next assignment then why did you want me to stay?”

  He held up his finger while he chewed. “I thought we could get to know each other better. I’m not a horrible person. I think given a chance you may discover we could be friends.”

  I couldn’t hold back my snort.

  “I understand it will take time. You know the Clutch really turned my life around. I was in a car crash when I was in high school. My father died in it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. But see, it was worse than that. I was driving when it happened. My father was a great man, a charismatic speaker and in the middle of a promising political career. After he died, I was a mess. But then I was recruited by the Clutch and they pulled me through, straightened me out. They saved my life. They can do the same for you.”