Dazzle Page 3

  “Yeah, then how did we get stuck working with the police and doing all these rescues all the time? Guess the other eight are smarter about keeping their gifts under wraps.” Delaney keeps her voice low and her eyes shifting around to be sure we aren’t heard. Although I don’t think anyone would be able to hear us over the loud chatter that echoes off the walls.

  “Or their gifts haven’t manifested yet. Who knows what ages all the others are, and you know the gifts appear at different ages for everyone.”

  Delaney shakes her head. “Wow. You’re seriously a walking textbook when it comes to this subject.”

  Being an Ekloge Warrior is the most important thing in the world to me. It’s what sets me apart. It’s my purpose in life. But I reply simply, “That’s because it means a lot to me.”

  “I know.” Delaney raises a brow. “Anyway, what do you think Ariel’s gift is? It must not be that great if she couldn’t even save herself. I mean, if we hadn’t shown up when we did, she totally would have died.”

  My stomach tightens at the memory of Ariel’s car sinking in the cold water. “Seriously, Delaney? You saw what they did to her. They stripped her of her gift.”

  Delaney’s face pales. “Oh, right. Sometimes I forget how easily our power can be taken away.”

  I glance around. The halls are almost cleared out. Before Delaney can say anything more, I nudge her arm. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late for class.”

  As I walk forward, Ariel’s face swims in my mind. I see her full lips, pale skin, short hair and large eyes. My fingers buzz when I remember the way her soft skin felt against mine. My pulse quickens. At the sound of the bell, I shake away the memory.

  PE is the worst part of my day. It’s so hard to go through the motions of physical activity all the while holding back my true strength. The most difficult are the days we play a sport. Once my adrenaline kicks in, it’s painful to hold back. However, it’s better than the alternative. I cringe remembering the few times I let loose at school. I’m lucky a few lacerations and broken equipment were the extent of the damage I caused. It could have been much worse.

  Today we’re running the mile, and I work hard at keeping a steady, even pace. If I wanted to, I could lap all these kids. In fact, if I went at full speed I would have finished several minutes ago. I certainly wouldn’t still be on my second lap. When I feel my legs pump faster, I bite my lip and force them to slow. My muscles practically pulsate under my skin, itching to be used. I stay a safe distance behind Chad Nelson. He’s the fastest runner in my class and, therefore, I always use him as my benchmark. If I pass him, it will draw attention to me. Something I can’t afford to do right now.

  As my feet thud on the dirt track, I think about when Delaney and I were in elementary school and my gift first manifested. Delaney had just started getting her weird visions, and I teased her about it all the time. The truth is that I was really jealous. My parents peppered my childhood with stories about how one day I would be a real superhero. It wasn’t supposed to be Delaney. It was supposed to be me. Besides, she didn’t even want her gift. She kept whining about it like it was some kind of curse.

  So one day while Delaney and I played on the monkey bars at school I decided to show off. I jumped up and grabbed the first rung, determined to get across faster than her. I swung for a moment and then propelled my body forward. Only I propelled it too far and went flying though the air, landing clear on the other side of the bars. I landed with a thud so hard that dirt kicked up like a wall in Delaney’s face. She coughed and sputtered.

  Kids whooped and hollered all around me. The yard duty ran in my direction. Delaney’s eyes widened. I wasn’t hurt, but it was the first time I realized my strength far exceeded others. From then on, I could always run faster, jump higher, and break things with my bare hands. Until I learned how to control myself, my parents had to replace doorknobs and faucet handles in our home as often as we went grocery shopping.

  A couple of girls jog past, their long hair fanning around their faces. They both stop talking and throw me smiles. I immediately stare at my feet. I know everyone thinks I’m an arrogant jerk, but it’s the way it has to be. I can’t encourage interaction with anyone but Delaney. She’s the only safe person for me.

  Ariel’s face surfaces in my mind, and a smile breaks out on my face. Until now, that is.

  Chapter 4

  Delaney

  MICAH IS ALREADY in the cafeteria, sitting at our table in the corner, by the time I arrive. He always gets here before me because he comes straight from PE. I have to trek it from the science classroom clear across campus. I weave through the sea of students, carrying my sack lunch in my hand. A shoulder bumps me and I lose my grip. The bag slips from my fingers and plummets to the floor.

  “I’m sorry.” A boy leans down to pick it up for me. When the boy stands back up I recognize him. His brown hair falls over his forehead, landing in a jagged chunk right above his cloudy blue eyes that always remind me of the ocean. He gives me a sheepish grin and thrusts the bag toward me. Then he shoves his hand into the pocket of his dark jeans and resumes his nonchalant stance.

  “Thanks, Sam.” I don’t know why, but whenever I’m in his presence my skin heats up and my heart beats faster. Micah’s right about him. He isn’t safe. He isn’t one of us. I know I should stay away from him, but something about him intrigues me.

  He doesn’t respond. Just gives me a quick nod and turns away. I watch his retreating back for a minute, wondering why he is always so intense around me. It’s not like I don’t notice how much he stares at me. But even so, every time I try to strike up a conversation with him he starts acting all strange, cold even. I don’t want him to catch me staring, so I swivel on my heels and make my way over to Micah. When I arrive at our table, he’s hunched over his sandwich. I plop down on the bench across from him and it creaks under my weight. I shift the bottom of my skirt to keep it from riding up my thighs and then pull my bottled water out of my lunch bag.

  “How was PE?” I ask as I unscrew the lid.

  He looks up from his sandwich and shrugs.

  “That good, huh?” I chuckle. It’s funny how Micah and I hardly even have to talk but we know exactly what the other is thinking. I guess that’s how it goes when you’ve known someone your entire life.

  Micah’s lips tug upward. Whenever he turns one of his disarming smiles on me I’m struck with how good-looking he is, with his chocolate brown eyes and chiseled face. His black dreadlocks are tied back at the nape of his neck today, and his white t-shirt clings to his muscles, giving the impression that they might burst through the gentle fabric. In these moments I see what all the other girls do when they fall all over him. Sometimes I forget because I’m so used to it.

  I point to a freshman wearing large bifocals. “So, what’s his superpower?”

  Micah’s face breaks out in a mischievous grin. “He can see through girl’s clothes.”

  “Eww.” I wrinkle my nose and swat Micah in the arm. “You perv.”

  He shrugs. “Hey, it’s not my fault. It’s his power.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, try to keep your mind out of the gutter for this one.” I point to a petite brunette. “Her.”

  Micah ponders this a moment. “Invisibility.”

  “Real original. I think you’ve used that one on like twenty people at this school already.”

  “Well, you don’t like my original ones.”

  I narrow my eyes. “That’s because they’re nasty.”

  A few years ago, Micah and I started this game where we make up superpowers for random strangers. It actually started because Micah was so intent on finding the other eight, so I thought I’d make a little game out of it. But the truth is, I like playing it because it makes me feel normal. I like pretending others are gifted as well, because if our school was filled with kids with special powers, then Micah and I wouldn’t be the exception – we’d be the norm.

  “Ready for your training this afternoon?” Micah wipe
s crumbs from his chin.

  I groan. “Oh, that’s right. What are we working on today?”

  “Endurance and strength.”

  “Wow, sounds like a blast.” A couple of afternoons a week Micah and I train together. We began several years back when I almost died during a rescue. Luckily Micah was there to save me. But afterward, both Micah and my parents were worried that I may not always be so lucky. Micah is strong naturally, but my gift is mental so they insisted that I work on building muscle and strength. I just wish I could stay home, eat chips, watch TV and play on the computer in the afternoons like every other teenager.

  “Afterward you can come over for dinner. Mom’s making her famous Jambalaya.” He smiles. “Extra spicy, just like you like it.”

  My mouth waters just thinking about it, and I know I will be starving after our workout. “Sounds good. I’ll come over after Dad and I take my car into the shop.”

  Micah nods. “Still running funny, huh?”

  I nod, thinking about how much I want to trade in my old clunker for a nicer car. It’s so unfair that when I turned sixteen my mom got a new car and I had to drive her old one. She’s had it for like a million years.

  I take a swig of my water, let it linger on my tongue and then swallow it down. Chatter, laughing, and hollering swell around us, like a symphony of mismatched instruments. I glance over to my right at the table filled with giggling girls. Then my gaze travels over to Sam. Bree leans into him and whispers in his ear. A smile sweeps across his face and my heart tugs. Rarely does Sam smile like that. It’s one of the reasons that many of the girls like him. He’s so brooding and mysterious. All the girls are vying for a chance to be the one who breaks through his tough exterior. I know it won’t be Bree. She’s not strong enough. Not like me.

  “Don’t you ever wish we could be like everyone else?” I sigh wistfully.

  Micah groans. “Oh, please. Not this again.”

  Frustration rises in me. “What? That’s how I feel. I can’t change that.”

  “I know.” Micah sets down his sandwich and gives me a sympathetic smile. “But this is who we are, and we can’t change that.”

  “I don’t get why we have to pay for our parents’ choices.” I kick the toe of my shoe on the linoleum floor.

  Micah leans in close. I smell the faint scent of sweat mingled with his mint shampoo. “If it weren’t for those choices we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it.” I blow out a breath. “But don’t you ever wish we could do what we wanted?”

  “We do.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You get to do what you want because you like this life. But what about me? I don’t want this calling. All I want is to hang out with friends and enjoy being a teenager.”

  Hurt passes over Micah’s features. “You do hang out with a friend. Me.”

  “But I want other friends, too. I mean, no offense, but you’re not a girl.”

  He laughs at that. “None taken.”

  “So I have no one to talk to about my makeup and hair, or my period, or —”

  Micah covers his ears with his massive hands. “Stop.”

  “See.”

  He drops his hands. “Okay, I get it. But Delaney, you know there are more like us. I mean, we just met one last night.” His eyes widen like he’s having an epiphany. “Maybe you and Ariel can become friends.”

  Frustration burns through me. He doesn’t get it. “But that’s just it. I don’t want to become friends with her just because I’m allowed to. I’m sick of other people dictating who I can and cannot hang out with. What if I don’t like Ariel?”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “Neither do you. She could be awful.”

  “I’m sure she’s not awful.”

  “Just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean she’s nice, Micah.”

  He sits back, pressing his lips tightly together. Clearly, I’ve annoyed him.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

  “There’s nothing to say. There’s no way you can make this better for me.” Sighing, I peer around the room. My gaze once again lands on Sam. His eyes lock with mine, and a shiver runs through me. Bree notices me staring and puts a protective arm around Sam’s shoulder. Just once I wish I could claim something as completely my own.

  Just once I wish I had a choice.

  “It’s too hot for this today,” I whine when Micah meets me outside for our run. I swipe a hand across my already sweaty forehead. Even in gym shorts and a tank top I’m sweltering.

  Micah chuckles. “It’s not that hot. Besides, we’re going on the trail you love around the river. Nothing but shade.”

  “Fine.” I blow out a breath. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “That’s the attitude I like to see.”

  “You know, your perpetual optimism is annoying sometimes.”

  “So is your need to use big words, but you don’t see me complaining.” He pokes me in the ribs and starts running.

  “That’s not fair!” I holler after him and take off. “You got a head start.”

  He glances over his shoulder. “Like you ever had a chance.”

  He’s right, of course, but my competitiveness has already kicked in and there’s no backing down now. I sprint as fast as I can, ignoring the burning in my legs and the sweat pouring down my back. When we were kids, Micah and I competed in everything. Sometimes I even beat him. But when his gift manifested, those days were gone. I think that’s when I realized that I was smarter in school than him. Now I like to wow him with my stellar vocabulary and knowledge of things I’ve learned. I get especially excited when I top him on our report cards. Not that he’s particularly impressed.

  “You can stop walking now,” Micah calls from far up the street.

  I can’t answer because I can’t breathe, but I glare as hard as I can in his direction even though I know he can’t see me. A lady watering the grass on her front lawn peers up at me with raised eyebrows. I force a tight wave. My lungs feel like they’re on fire, as if flames lick up my chest and throat. I slow down a little and try to catch my breath. Glancing ahead, I don’t see Micah but I’m too tired to attempt to catch up. I jog slowly and turn the corner toward the trail. The only sound I hear is my shoes clomping on the pavement and my heavy breathing.

  A couple of men speed past me on bicycles, wearing neon bicycling uniforms. I don’t see Micah, and I’m sure he’s far ahead by now. I set foot onto the trail and am grateful for the leafy trees that cover the path. The sun hides behind the shade, giving me a temporary reprieve from the fall heat. A lizard jumps into a nearby bush, startling me. I continue jogging, keeping my eyes peeled for Micah. Rocks line the path to my left and to my right are green bushes and flowers. Beyond that there is a breathtaking view of the rushing river. I run to the soundtrack of the running water. Moisture beads on my forehead and gathers under my nose. I wipe it with my hand. My breathing is even now and my lungs don’t burn as bad. I’ve found a good rhythm.

  I hear more rustling of twigs and brittle leaves. This time it’s above me, but I’m not startled. I’m sure it’s just another lizard. But then a low growl causes my head to snap up. The hair on my arm prickles. A bush up on the rocks shakes, causing leaves to spill from its branches. The growl is louder this time. I freeze. That is not the sound of any animals we have around here, but I do have a sneaking suspicion of what it might be. As my mind begins to ponder that, I force the thoughts away. No, I won’t go there. It’s too far-fetched.

  With what resembles a howl, something large, furry and black leaps out of the bushes and scurries in the opposite direction before I can get a good look. I release the breath I’ve been holding. Arms come around my waist and I scream.

  “Delaney, it’s just me.”

  “Micah?” I spin around to face him.

  He smiles broadly. “I didn’t mean to scare you so bad. I thought you’d be expecting me.”

&nb
sp; I swallow hard.

  “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows knit together.

  Two ladies jog past and I wonder if they saw the strange creature, too. But their faces look serene, so I’m guessing not.

  “There was something in those bushes up there.” I point. “It was big and hairy and not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “Maybe it was a bear,” Micah says in a joking tone.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I shrug, but I don’t think so. However, I’m too scared to tell Micah what I think it was. Besides, I don’t want to freak him out until I know for sure.

  “I should’ve been here. I could have wrestled it with my bare hands.” Micah flexes his muscles.

  “You wish.” I swat at him. “C’mon, Mr. Strongman, let’s keep going.”

  We start jogging again, this time in sync. The trees act as drapes to guard us from the blaring sunlight, and we run against the backdrop of the blue sky and dark water. It’s actually quite peaceful. For a few minutes neither of us says a word. I focus on my breathing and stare out at the river. There’s something about water that I just love. I could look at it for hours. When I was a kid I wanted to spend every day at the lake. My mom used to call me her “little fishy.”

  On the beach, across the river, I see people sitting on the sand while others splash in the water. The array of bright towels and umbrellas scattered over the beach look like a kaleidoscope of colors from this vantage point. My chest tightens when I notice two men standing high up on the beach. They seem casual enough, but the way they’re dressed in all black and long sleeves gives me pause. I squint, trying to see their faces, but I can’t make them out. I’m almost positive that there is something on their foreheads though, and that terrifies me. If only I could see more clearly. Their stance indicates that they are not at the beach to play in the sand. A shiver runs up my spine.