Fast-Tracked Page 9

  Chapter 8

  I should have been tired the next morning; it had been well past midnight by the time I had gotten back. But it was also the first night in days that I had enjoyed a good night’s sleep. And now that I had a plan, I felt energized. I eagerly got dressed and headed down to breakfast.

  Despite Avery’s warning that being friends with the other girls would only hold me back, I decided to attempt to get along with them. After all, today was a brand new day. Maybe some of the girls had gotten over Mrs. Glabough’s favoritism of me.

  I stopped short the moment I caught sight of the rest of the girls and suppressed a laugh. Their skin, their hair, and their clothes were all stained bright pink. Then, once the shock wore off, I felt bad for them. Pranks were one thing, but Mrs. Glabough would be furious when she found out that all the time and credits she had spent on hair and clothes had been ruined. I hated the idea of the girls getting in trouble for something they didn’t do.

  Vera pushed a previously blond strand away from her face. “Hey, why aren’t you pink like the rest of us?” Vera snarled as she stood up and got right in my face. Did she honestly think she could intimidate me? Over her shoulder I saw the rest of the girls were all glaring at me with hateful looks on their faces.

  “I guess it’s because I’m not in the habit of dyeing myself,” I chuckled as I pushed Vera away. All my sympathy instantaneously vanished.

  “You damn well know we didn’t do this to ourselves!” Vera screamed and stepped back into my face.

  “Enough!” I hollered back. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I pushed her down into a seat. She looked ready to fight me back, but her bony butt didn’t frighten me. My big mouth had landed me in plenty of scrapes growing up. So, I knew that I could easily take her.

  Staring Vera down, I loudly announced to the whole group, “Look, the five of you were all smug and satisfied with yourselves when you found out I had to live on the same floor as Mrs. Glabough. Obviously there are some advantages to living on the ninth floor that none of you considered.” Again I was surprised by how easily my lie rolled off my tongue, but I comforted myself with the knowledge that I was just trying to protect Avery.

  “The only advantage is that you did it,” Myra suddenly chimed in.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “So what exactly do you think I did? Smuggle pink dye from home and then sneak into everyone’s rooms before anyone woke up this morning?” Though I meant to sound like I found the idea funny, I sounded more upset and defensive.

  “No, you did it last night before you went to bed. Nola was still awake and heard it being blown in through the door.” Now Myra hopped up and down. She pointed at Nola, who bounced her head in agreement.

  “Okay. So, at exactly what time did all this happen, Nola?” I asked, doing my best to sound nice and calm.

  “It was ten thirty. I had just looked at my clock and realized I needed to get to bed,” Nola squeaked, loud enough to hurt my ears.

  “Well, right there is a huge hole in your theory. I didn’t get home last night until after midnight.”

  “Ha!” Vera shouted. “You can’t seriously expect us to believe that,” she scoffed back at me. “What, were you wandering through the garden the whole time like you were supposedly during dinner? We all know you were just hiding and crying your eyes out because you have no friends.” Obviously thinking herself triumphant, a smug smile spread across Vera’s face.

  I considered telling them where I was and ending the drama, but I doubted they’d believe me. Plus, I was seriously pissed off now. I was tired of being made into the bad guy when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I didn’t ask Mrs. Glabough to favor me, and I didn’t actually know about the prank ahead of time. So instead, I just snapped, “Forget it. I’m not wasting any more of my time or energy on you. If you really think I did it, you can bring the matter to Mrs. Glabough.”

  I turned and walked away from them. I filled a plate with breakfast, and headed back to my room. On the way out I could hear the girls debating whether or not I’d get demoted just one level or more for my punishment.

  While I ate, I used my new tablet to check my income credit balance. As I had hoped, my weekly allowance had already been allotted. It was more than both my parents earned in a week. I took my time making some purchases.

  First I ordered several huge red clay pots with attached casters, ample amounts of soil, fertilizer, pruning shears, and some Root-it plant hormone. Now I had the sun and the space, so I decided to grow my own rose garden.

  Next I purchased a large crystal vase and several tiny ones just big enough to hold a single blossom. I still planned to go to the gardens and gather roses to fill the inside of my apartment. It would be a while until my rosebushes were large enough to support clippings.

  Finally I purchased a combination light fixture and security camera. It was a safe bet that the girls would try to retaliate when they found out I wasn’t getting demoted. Unlike them, I would make sure I had solid proof before throwing around any accusations. To be safe I paid extra for same day delivery and installation.

  I shot a quick note to Avery and headed out the door, only to return a moment later. I grabbed the duct tape and taped a fresh bag by my door before heading down to the second floor for class with Mrs. Glabough. As I expected the entire group of girls were already there and had tattled away to Mrs. Glabough.

  “Good morning,” I greeted everyone in my most pleasant and innocent sounding tone. The girls immediately returned it with irritated expressions.

  “Miss Zandria. I’m sure you’ve already taken notice of your classmates’ unusual color. They’ve just given me the most disturbing news that you’re the cause of it and have already admitted to it.” For the briefest moment, Mrs. Glabough’s stern look wavered and a smile almost crept out. Goose bumps rose up on my arms; her smile scared me much more than her stern look ever could.

  I told myself that real fast-trackers don’t get intimidated and did my best to appear unfazed. “Well I guess that could be true if stating that I didn’t get back here until after midnight, after the vandalism occurred, counts as an admission.” I kept my innocent tone and gave the group a concerned look as if I truly feared for their sanity.

  “That’s an outright lie,” Vera shouted, stamping her foot. “Where could she possibly have been at that time of night?”

  “Zandria, can you tell me where you were?” Mrs. Glabough asked. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in her eye.

  “Certainly. I was at Club Night with several of my fellow classmates.” I slipped down casually into a seat, as if that settled everything.

  “Oh my gosh! You have to be the world’s worst liar ever. You already know none of us are about to vouch for your sorry butt. Besides, do you really think that anyone is going to believe there’s a club with a stupid name like that?” Myra sneered. She copied Vera’s foot-stomping.

  I grabbed my tablet and quickly pulled up the club’s information. “The name’s meant to be campy. Of course you’d know that if you’d ever been there.” I held the screen out in front of Myra before handing the tablet over to Mrs. Glabough.

  Vera sneered. “Oh big deal, she knows how to look up information on a tablet. That doesn’t prove anything.” Another one of her foot stomps emphasized her feelings.

  “Vera, you do realize that only toddlers stamp their feet don’t you? And by my classmates, I don’t mean any of you. I mean real fast-trackers.” There was only contempt in my voice now.

  “Like who?” Myra grumbled.

  Simultaneously Vera argued, “She’s just gonna make up names or use names she looked up.”

  “I’d be a complete and utter fool to do that. It would take barely any effort on Mrs. Glabough’s part to prove I was lying. But I’m not, and I really am quite tired of all your wild accusations, so I suggest before you make bigger fools of yourselves, you sit down and let Mrs. Glabough get back to teaching.” I straightened myself in my seat and folded my hands neatly on the desk i
n front of me and then looked up at Mrs. Glabough. “If you require a name to verify my alibi, Mrs. Glabough, I’ll provide it.” I just hoped she didn’t make me. I wasn’t sure how Avery would react if I had to use his name.

  “Thank you for helping me with an important lesson, Miss Zandria,” Mrs. Glabough said as she motioned for everyone to sit down. “In the future I would advise everyone to be very careful who they fling accusations at; the next person might not be so forgiving.” The corners of her lips had curled up to form a malicious smile.

  Vera muttered something unrepeatable under her breath and the other girls made faces at me. I couldn’t help but enjoy the smug satisfaction I felt.

  “The pink coloring is a prank that is pulled every year. It’s a powdered form of disappearing ink and should be gone by tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Glabough explained while staring down each of the girls in turn.

  The morning dragged by slowly as Mrs. Glabough explained the intricate details of fast-tracker etiquette. Most of it was just common sense, so soon the rest of the girls were in virtual comas, not paying attention to anything Mrs. Glabough said. I, however, gave her my rapt attention. I realized just what a disadvantage I was at not having grown up a fast-tracker. The smallest detail could prove invaluable in establishing myself and gaining power as a fast-tracker.

  I was relieved when lunchtime finally arrived. It was more draining than I realized to wade through monotonous information in hopes of finding a helpful tidbit. But I was confident it had paid off. I don’t think any of the other girls even noticed when Mrs. Glabough mentioned it. But the college had a valuable tool that I doubted could be found anywhere else. In the school’s personal library there was an in-house database with information on each and every fast-tracker that had ever attended the college. And it wasn’t limited to just their college years: it tracked their progress through their entire careers. I wanted to skip lunch to check out the database, but I didn’t want to give the girls the satisfaction of thinking they had scared me off.

  The girls were furious with me. They went out of their way to make it obvious that they weren’t talking to me. The only exception was Trisha. She just quietly sat focusing all her attention on her lunch plate.

  I was determined to keep up my unfazed façade. So I smiled pleasantly as I filled my lunch plate and sat down at the table with them. Frustrated that I didn’t look the least bit miserable or lonely, they started sneezing and coughing words under their breath like, “lying loser,” and, “dirty slut,” – but it just made me smile even more. After all, it’s hard to take anyone covered in head-to-toe pink that seriously. I wondered to myself just what their apartments looked like.

  When their taunts failed to work, they started flinging bits of peas and corn in my direction. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and my mouth start to twitch into a frown despite my best efforts to appear unaffected. I was about to tell them off when they all seemed to freeze mid-throw and look up.

  Before I had a chance to turn around, a soft black scarf was wrapped around my neck. “You forgot this at the club last night,” a warm welcome voice murmured into my ear. I turned around and shot Avery a huge smile. He had gotten my email about the prank and had come to my rescue. “But I’m glad you did; it gave me an excuse to come here and rescue you from the slop they dare to call food.” He picked up my plate, examined it, and tossed it back down in disgust.

  He started to pull me to my feet, but I said, “I don’t have enough time left to go anywhere.”

  Loud enough for all the girls to hear, he responded, “Not to worry. I already made all the necessary arrangements with Mrs. Glabough. She’s confident you don’t need the afternoon’s lesson, so you have the rest of the day off. But before we go, you’ll need to grab a bathing suit.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “Unless you prefer to skinny-dip.”

  “One bathing suit coming right up,” I chirped, ignoring his last comment. I quickly headed out of the cafeteria, happy to see that the other girls were seething with envy. I may have no romantic interest in Avery, but I appreciated that he was handsome. Apparently so did the other girls.

  Leaving the apartment took a little longer than I had planned. I had forgotten about the camera installation, but luckily the installer arrived right as we were about to leave. So I gave him instructions on its placement and headed back inside with Avery.

  “So what’s up with the camera? Afraid of stalkers?” Avery teased.

  “Hardly. I expect the girls to try retaliating. Despite the fact that I didn’t actually do anything besides avoid getting dyed,” I grumbled. I was still annoyed by just how immature the girls were.

  “Ah, beautiful and brainy. Such a lethal combination.” Avery chuckled. “So have you thought about what you’ll do with the footage?”

  I stared back at him curiously. “Just what would I do with it besides hand it over to Mrs. Glabough?”

  “So smart, but still so naïve.” Avery shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “You want power, right?”

  “Yeah, but from what you said last night, it’s going to take time for that.” I gave him a weary look as I tried to figure out just what he was getting at.

  “Well there’s more than one way to get power. Who you know is one of them, but that can be a very fickle power. You lose favor with the wrong person and you can find yourself at a serious disadvantage. The best power doesn’t come from who you know, but from what you know. That’s the kind of power you can – and might as well – start building now.” He gave the end of my nose a playful flick as he stood up and walked out to the patio.

  “I hardly think footage of girls pulling a prank is going to give me the power I need,” I argued as I followed him outside.

  “Don’t be so short-sighted. It starts with the tape. Use the tape to get the girls to help you in some way, hopefully in a way they wouldn’t want anyone else to know about. Then you use that information to coerce them the next time and continue on until you have the kind of dirt needed to destroy them. Compile enough secrets about enough people and you’ll have all of New York bowing at your feet.” He laughed as he gestured out to the city below.

  “Are all fast-trackers as evil as you?” I asked, trying to hide my shock and disbelief with a nervous laugh.

  “Sadly no, but I am an evil genius in training. But still, never let your guard down; the rest constantly strive to reach my level of perfection and wouldn’t hesitate to use whatever dirt they have on you.” He let out a wild, evil genius cackle.

  Rolling my eyes at him, I pointed out, “If things were really the way you make them sound, there wouldn’t be any fast-trackers left; they would have already destroyed each other with their secrets.” I gave him a smug prove-me-wrong smile.

  “But that brings us to the best kind of power – mutually assured destruction. It’s what keeps fast-trackers so closely united. A fast-tracker never crosses another fast-tracker when they know they have the power to directly or indirectly crush them.” I stared at Avery in utter amazement. His lighthearted, playful demeanor was completely contradictory to his calculating mind. I wanted to believe that he was just spinning a wild yarn to tease me – but my gut told me otherwise.

  Deciding I might as well take advantage of his dark insight, I asked, “So what do you mean by ‘indirectly’?”

  “Even if you know the person doesn’t have anything they can use against you, it doesn’t mean that they don’t have something against someone who does have the power to destroy you.” Avery stopped and gave a thoughtful look. “Really, in the end, most fast-trackers just collect the incriminating evidence to protect themselves, but never use it against another fast-tracker.”

  A knock at the door interrupted us. It was the installer. I walked back inside to open it. Over my shoulder, I said, “I think you’ve taught me more in five minutes that Mrs. Glabough could have taught me in a year.”

  The installer reviewed his work with me and then confirmed the link properly downloaded onto my tablet.
Satisfied with his work, I asked for his identification card. The installer gave me a nervous look while Avery gave me a curious one. Ignoring them both I tapped the man’s ID and gave him a tip. When the installer saw what I did his eyes grew wide and he began to profusely thank me.

  “It’s a bit early for campaigning,” Avery said as soon as the installer left.

  “What?” I got defensive. “It wasn’t that big of a tip.”

  “If we tipped every time someone did something we would end up broke. That guy already gets paid for his job; a tip wasn’t necessary. Only politicians tip – and usually only during campaign years,” Avery scoffed.

  I decided to ignore him. I was raised to give a tip for a job well done and I wasn’t about to change that practice. It was becoming clear to me that my relationship with Avery would be a like-hate one. The only question that remained was just how heavily it would lean toward the hate side.

  Before I forgot, I tried to hand him back his scarf. I told him it was a nice touch to make our meeting seem less staged. But he said it was a gift and insisted I keep it. I continued to protest, but finally he quirked an eyebrow at me and said, “I think it’s bad karma to refuse a simple act of kindness.”

  Yielding to the fact that this was one argument I wouldn’t win, I smiled and said, “Thank you.” I just hoped gift giving was common practice between fast-trackers and not a sign that he was trying to circumvent my wishes not to be in a relationship.

  Avery wouldn’t tell me where we were going for lunch. He said he wanted it to be a surprise. He certainly had my curiosity piqued as he led me deeper and deeper into the botanical gardens. He finally stopped when we reached the man-made lake in the center of it. Then he led me down a dock to his boat.

  Gesturing to a large white ship, Avery said, “It’s not much; it’s just under twenty-five feet, but it’s the largest allowed on the lake. One weekend we’ll have to take a trip to the shore. Then I can show you a real boat.”