Glory Page 10

  “You already told me. Thank you. Are you planning to join us?” he asks.

  “I . . . I’m not sure. Where’s my dad?”

  “Hector?” He shakes his head. “I have no idea. He’s AWOL.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you.” Rolph drops a hand onto my shoulder. “If anyone can take care of himself, it’s your dad. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  “I should be here when he gets back.”

  “That’s fine,” Rolph says. “I understand. And given Kalin’s special interest in you, I think it’s best if you sit this mission out. You’ve already done so much for the FA cause. You saved dozens of lives.”

  Someone scoffs behind me, and I turn to see Zina.

  “Are you done?” she asks. “The real soldiers need to talk.”

  I look at Rolph. “You won’t let Zina hurt more innocent Haven employees will you? Did you know she killed Cal’s brother? Did you know she framed me for the murder of the VP of the Compliance Department by poisoning his food while pretending to be me?” Back when I was in Haven and undercover for the FA, Zina did horrible things in the army’s name, all of which she claimed were under Rolph’s orders, but I doubt he knows the details of how she carried our her missions.

  “Glory”—Rolph’s voice is stern—“I need more than accusations. If you have proof that Zina did these things, bring it to me. Meanwhile, Zina’s next mission is none of your business, and I need to brief her.”

  Zina’s expression is so condescending that I have the urge to punch her. She maneuvers herself between me and Rolph, and her silver hair flies into my face.

  I reach for her, but Drake’s hand lands on my shoulder.

  “Leave it,” he whispers.

  I scan the room, hoping to find Burn—he’ll back up my claims—but he’s already gone. I need to talk to him about last night, if I can find him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT’S BEEN THREE days since the FA unit came back. Three days since the dance. Three days since Burn and I argued. And I’ve barely seen or talked to either Burn or Cal. Both of them have been busy with training, I’ve been avoiding Cal, and Burn’s been avoiding me. If I’m honest, I’ve been avoiding everyone.

  Telling everyone that I need time alone, I’ve been spending most of my time helping Caroline. Today, she didn’t even ask me for dust. And she was fine. Calm. We talked about Arabella.

  I don’t want to get into another fight with Burn about Caroline. When I left today, I didn’t retie her. I left a bowl of water and a loaf of bread in the cage.

  She lived in the Haven’s Pents, like I did, so I’d guess she’s never seen or smelled bread before—only Management got luxuries like that—but as I went up the stairs, I saw her taking a bite. Her appetite returning is a good sign.

  Shielding my eyes from the sun, I scan the field that the FA is using to train volunteers. This is the first day I’ve gathered the courage to watch. I feel guilty not going with them, and watching just makes it worse.

  Cal is demonstrating techniques we learned in COT to some of the men from Fort Huron. He looks so strong and assured, so much a man, and I realize that I missed his birthday. He’s turned nineteen.

  I spent years hoping Cal would like me, then a short time as his girlfriend, and now . . . now I’m not sure how to act around him. Before the dance, it was easier just to be Cal’s friend. Like we were on neutral territory. But now that I’m sure who I want . . . Now everything feels strange. I’m not with either of them, but I’m no longer neutral.

  Cal side kicks a fake Shocker gun from the hand of another man who’s playing the part of a Comp. That disarming technique works, but the Comps know that method. They were trained by the same people who trained me and Cal. The FA should think of some new ideas.

  Burn strides onto the field, heading straight toward Cal. They talk for a few minutes, with their heads close together. I squirm. Of all the ways I thought things would turn out, their being friends was not on the list.

  I spot Jayma and head toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Training for the mission. What else?” She strikes a pose with a staff in her hands.

  “You’re joining the FA?” I wait for her to start laughing, but my tiny friend just stands there, trying to look fierce. It’s not working.

  “You’ll get killed,” I tell her. “What if you’re attacked by Shredders before you even reach Haven?”

  “You’re forgetting how strong I am.” She flexes her arm. It’s still so thin. “You were the one who said I should embrace my Gift.”

  “But Jayma—” I regret neglecting my friends these past few days.

  “Out of my way. I’m training.” She sounds determined. She swings the staff, and I have to back up or be hit.

  I stride to the end of the field and plop down on the ground.

  Jayma shifts her staff quickly, and the force of movement pulls her off balance. She falls. Her strength is working against her. I hope she’ll soon realize she’s out of her depth. She’s not ready, and I can’t bear the thought of losing another person I love.

  Drake runs over and offers her a hand up. He demonstrates how Jayma should plant her feet. She tries again, but it’s no use; the force of her swing sets her off balance each time. If she won’t listen to me, perhaps Drake can convince her not to go. I’m hoping that’s why he’s here.

  He stands a few feet ahead of her, braces himself, and encourages her to swing at him.

  I leap up. “No!” The wind swallows my words so I run toward them.

  Jayma’s shaking her head, too—she’s not going to strike him—but Drake seems to be insisting. He slaps his arms and nods.

  She swings. A fraction of a second before the staff strikes Drake, the armor on his torso appears. The weapon strikes. My brother flies in the air, landing several feet away.

  Jayma drops her weapon and runs to him, but he’s on his feet before she gets there. And grinning. They hug, apparently pleased with their little exercise.

  Jayma needed a real target to absorb the force of her swing, and my brother—once his armor was up—could take it.

  Drake notices me and looks down.

  “That was a big risk,” I say. “You know how strong she is. What if your armor didn’t come up in time?”

  “I was testing my Deviance, too,” he says. “I’ve got to be ready.”

  “For what?”

  “For the mission.” He raises his chin.

  “You’re not going.”

  “Yes I am.”

  “No, Drake. You can’t.” I grab his hand. “How could you possibly leave our family now that we’re finally together?”

  “That’s what you did when you went back to Haven.”

  I can feel my heartbeat inside my ears. “That was different. I wasn’t going into a battle. And we didn’t know about Mrs. Kalin then and what she could do. Plus, you and Dad were together. You can’t leave me here alone. I won’t let you.”

  He rolls his eyes. I want to smack him, but I’d break my hand on his armor.

  “Please, Drake. At least wait until Dad gets back. Then we can all go to Haven together.”

  “Can we talk about this later?” Drake motions toward Rolph, who’s staring at us. “We’re supposed to be training. Either take part or get out of the way.”

  There’s no sense in talking to him now—he won’t lose face in front of Jayma—so I return to the end of the field and watch. I’ve given up trying to reason with Rolph, and I’m not sure even meeting Caroline would convince him to leave Concord more protected. Yesterday he said that, even if I was right and the Shredders were sent here from Haven, that’s all the more reason to hit Management with everything we’ve got. It was hard to argue.

  Burn strides over to Jayma and Drake. Burn lunges and grabs Jayma, trapping her arms at her sides. She struggles, and I can tell from Burn’s face, he’s struggling, too.

  Twisting her
body, she frees her arms and raises them, pushing Burn off her. He flies backward, landing hard on the dirt.

  My breath catches, but Burn raises a hand to say he’s okay. Drake claps and then runs to hug Jayma.

  Burn comes at Jayma again. This time she ducks down and he misses her. She grabs him around the knees, straightens her legs, and tosses him. Burn’s arms flap as he flies twenty feet across the field. He lands and rolls, before jumping up.

  Maybe Jayma will be able to handle herself.

  It doesn’t matter. I don’t want her to.

  “She’s good, isn’t she?” Cal says as he approaches. “I didn’t think she could take on Burn, but they both insisted.”

  Sweat beads on Cal’s forehead, and he swipes it off with the back of his hand. “I’ve barely seen you since the dance. Do you have time to talk?”

  “Sure.” My mouth is suddenly dry.

  “Hot day,” he says. “The real sun beats the sun lights inside Haven, doesn’t it? Feel like a walk by the lake?”

  I look back over at the others and nod.

  Cal offers me a hand as we climb up onto the boulder at the side of the lake. I accept it, only realizing my mistake once we make contact. I pull my hand away before we sit.

  “Fresh air suits you,” he says. “Your skin almost glows.”

  He’s looking at me the way he used to, the way I once desperately wanted him to. “Thanks. You too. And your hair’s lighter from the sun.”

  “A lot of things have changed.”

  I shift over on the rock. “What day does the FA unit leave?”

  “Either tomorrow or the next day.”

  My stomach tightens. “I wish I were going to Haven with you, but I need to stay here for my dad.”

  “I get that.” His shoulders hitch.

  “I’m sorry. You must be missing your parents.”

  “Yeah.” He tips his face to the sun. “I feel bad for them, having me disappear so soon after we lost Scout.” His gaze meets mine. “But the FA isn’t what I want to talk about.”

  I look out at the water. “I know.”

  Cal bends one leg and leans onto his knee. “Before I leave on the mission, I want to talk—about us.”

  “Let me go first, okay?”

  He shifts on the rock, straightening and bending his leg, as if he can’t get comfortable.

  “Cal”—my mouth feels full of sand—“first, I want you to know that I really appreciate how patient you’ve been with me. And . . .” His expression falls and I can tell that he knows what’s coming.

  “But you don’t love me,” he says.

  “I do love you,” I blurt without thinking. My cheeks feel hot. “I think I’ll always love you.”

  His face brightens. I’m blowing this. I’m making it harder, not easier.

  “But . . .” he says.

  “But—it’s not that kind of love. I don’t love you the same way you . . .”

  He clears his throat. “You don’t love me in the way I love you.”

  I see the hurt in his eyes. The pain. It slices into me. And now I’m the one squirming on the rock. I want to throw my arms around him, to hug him, to comfort him, but I know doing any of those things will only make this worse.

  “I don’t have a name for how I feel about you.” I chew on my lower lip. “I feel different about you than I do for Drake or Jayma or my dad, but it’s not—”

  “It’s not what you feel for Burn.” Cal says this quietly, without hate, without the accusation I deserve.

  I lick my lips—so dry—and he wipes his forehead.

  We sit for a few moments, both staring out at the lake. Then he breaks the silence. “I’m glad you told me. I only wish you’d done it sooner.” His cheeks redden. “I feel like an idiot. The way I waited for you, the way I held you last week at the dance . . .” His jaw shifts. “I knew you had a crush on me since, well, since you were way too young for a dating license. And I didn’t think—I took you for granted.”

  “Cal.” I lay my hand on his shoulder. It twitches under my touch, so I drop my hand to the rock. “You have every right to be angry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been confused.”

  “How long have you known?” he asks.

  “For sure? Since the dance.”

  He turns toward me quickly, surprise in his eyes. “I hope you and Burn will be happy together. He’s a good guy. Not at all what I first thought. I misjudged him.”

  I drag my palm along the rock. “Burn and I aren’t together.”

  He glances at the water. “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

  My chest starts to ache—a deep, heavy pain that crushes my lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t think we can work it out. Burn—” I hesitate. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters.” Cal faces me. “You deserve to be happy. You both do.”

  “Thanks.” I stare at the water, thinking how wrong he is—at least about me.

  We sit in silence again as the waves lap against the rock, creating what should be a soothing lullaby but sounds like a dirge.

  I’m toxic. I’ve hurt Cal. Burn won’t even talk to me. And look what I did to my parents, my brother.

  People who care about me get hurt.

  Cal jumps to his feet. “Let’s go for a swim.” He grins, and his eyes flash with kindness and forgiveness that break my heart. “Come on. I’ll race you.”

  He slides off the rock, throws his shirt onto the pebbles, and runs into the water, jumping over the waves. I follow, catching up when the water reaches his waist. He picks me up and throws me, and when I rise from under the surface he’s laughing.

  “You snake!” I splash him and he dives under.

  As he paddles about, I lie back, floating on the undulating surface, and I wonder if maybe, after all that’s happened, Cal and I can stay friends.

  I close my eyes and my lids glow red. I think of poor Caroline under those ruins. It’s time.

  It’s time to trust her. Tonight, I’ll bring her aboveground, but I doubt anyone at Concord would accept her. Or that, even with her help, I could convince Rolph not to head to Haven. He’s right. The FA has to hit Management hard.

  I could lead Caroline far away from Concord and set her free, but I’m not sure how she’d survive.

  “Hey,” Cal says to someone on shore. “Come join us!”

  I stand and blink against the bright light.

  Burn turns his back to us and walks away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  BURN! COME ON in!” Cal yells.

  I run toward shore, slogging against the water. “Wait!” I’m not sure why I want Burn to wait, or what I’ll say when I reach him, but I know that I don’t want him to walk away from here thinking that Cal and I were sharing a romantic moment. It would be a cruel mockery of the first time Burn and I almost kissed. It’s bad enough that he has the wrong idea about the dance.

  Cal’s longer legs move faster than mine and he passes me. “Come in,” he calls to Burn. “The water’s great!”

  “Don’t want to interrupt,” Burn replies.

  “You’re not!” Cal and I yell at the same time.

  In a single, almost violent movement, Burn pulls off his shirt.

  I’ve seen his chest before, but my breath hitches at the contrasts between smooth skin and scars, tanned muscles and dark hair, hard planes and curves. Cheeks aflame, I duck down below the water to cool off.

  When I reemerge, Cal and Burn are talking nearby, and I remain crouched, my chin just above the surface.

  “See you later,” Cal says to me.

  “Bye,” I manage to respond.

  “No,” Burn says. “You go with Cal. No need for this to be awkward.”

  Still mostly underwater, I step toward them. “Burn, I think you have the wrong idea.”

  He claps Cal on the arm. “You two fit together.”

  “It’s not like that,” Cal says.

  “No need to deny it.” Burn frowns. “It’s not like I’ll turn into a h
uge, jealous monster.”

  “Very funny,” I say.

  “Oh, I get it. Funny.” Cal laughs, but it sounds forced.

  Burn heads toward deeper water.

  Cal looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “You’re okay if I leave, right?”

  “No,” Burn says just as I say, “Yes.”

  “Ha!” Cal says. “You two really are perfect together.” He strides out of the water and uses his shirt to dry off as he walks away.

  I rise as I turn back toward Burn. My lips and brain can’t coordinate. It’s like they’ve forgotten the teamwork required for speech.

  “You’re shaking.” Burn’s deep voice fills the space between us.

  “The water’s cold.”

  “Go back under. It’ll feel warmer than the air.”

  I slip down and the water’s like a warm blanket. “You’re right.”

  “It’s the breeze,” he says. “Chills your wet skin and makes the water feel warmer in comparison.”

  Keeping the water below my chin, I step forward. A wave rises to lick the ridges of his abdomen.

  “Your lips are blue.”

  I rub the back of my finger across them, but all I see are his lips, imagining how they’d warm mine. He pulls his arms forward, creating small waves. I creep closer, like I’m stalking prey.

  A few feet from him now, I slowly rise up and reach to squeeze the water out of my hair.

  Burn draws in an audible breath. I glance down. My shirt clings to me like paint, and I tug at the fabric to loosen its tight hold. Self-conscious, I cross my arms over my chest.

  “You and Cal,” he says. “I’m sorry if I messed that up.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh.” He rakes his hair back. “Good.”

  “Cal and I are just friends.” I step closer. “I don’t love him.”

  “He loves you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He shifts back. “You don’t care?”

  I slap the water. “Of course I care. Cal’s my friend. I care about his feelings, but that doesn’t mean . . .” My mouth’s dry again. “That doesn’t mean I love him. Not the way I love you.”