When the Shadows Fall by Elise Noble

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 25 - SKY

A SHRILL SCREAM cut through the air in my art enrichment class, and everyone froze. Everyone except me, anyway. I just kept gluing jelly beans to my masterpiece while I tried not to smile. Why jelly beans, you ask? Because we were meant to be using mixed media, and the teacher told us to get creative. And I was hungry. When I begged packets of candy from the kitchen to use in my project, the teacher beamed with delight at my originality, my “inspired vision,” so it was a win-win situation. One sweet for me, one for the canvas, one sweet for me, one for the canvas.

Then I thought that perhaps keeping my composure would appear suspicious, so I put down my glue gun and plastered on a horrified expression—hands to my cheeks and everything—as Deandra danced around her bag, shrieking.

“Get it out! Get it out!”

Meaghan peered into the bag and squealed too. “OMG! Is it alive?”

Not unless it had been fucking possessed.

“It moved! It just moved!”

For pity’s sake… Talk about being melodramatic. Deandra carried on squealing as a couple of guys downed tools and shuffled forward to take a better look.

“It’s a toad,” one of them said.

Close, but not quite.

Asher was on the other side of the room, standing in front of his own painting. He definitely had a dark side. A child sat cross-legged in the middle of a filthy sidewalk, his back to crowds of pedestrians that parted as they walked around him. The embodiment of loneliness. Did that come from within? Or had he seen the idea somewhere and copied it? Asher didn’t seem unhappy. In fact, he smirked as he caught my eye. Did he know?

Oh, who was I kidding? Of course he knew. The question was, would he tell anyone?

He abandoned his brush on a palette filled with dark blobs of oil paint and moseyed over to Deandra. Was it my imagination, or did she pause her hysteria for a moment to preen?

“Asher, can you help? I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Not only did Asher laugh, but he also flapped his arms and made chicken noises before he scooped the fake frog into his closed hands.

“Don’t be such a drama queen. The poor little guy’s escaped from the biology lab, that’s all.”

Her fear turned to dismay. “How can you hold it? It’s a toad.”

“It’s a frog. It won’t kill you.”

“Some frogs are poisonous.”

“Not this one.”

How was he keeping a straight face? It was made of freaking rubber.

Deandra folded her arms. “Well, it’s slimy.”

“Go back to your coop, Dea.”

Her bottom lip quivered as Asher left the room, and a bunch of her so-called friends snickered too. I didn’t laugh, but I did feel a sense of satisfaction that at least she’d been brought down a peg or two. After her nastiness towards Vanessa, she deserved it.

“Did you find your earring?” Asher asked nonchalantly on Saturday. But quietly, so the people sitting at the bench behind us couldn’t hear.

“Did you put the frog back?”

“It took me ages to find the empty box.”

“Perseverance is an admirable quality.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?” I played innocent. “Why were you such a dick to Deandra?”

“I’m a dick to everyone. Here at Shadow Falls, we place great importance on equality, remember?”

I just stared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, Chem. I saw what Dea did to Vanessa on the hockey pitch, and it was shitty. Is she okay?”

“The swelling’s going down, but her foot still won’t fit in anything but flip-flops.”

“What about…” Asher tapped his head. “Up there?”

“She’s upset, and understandably so. Deandra’s a nasty piece of work.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why don’t you tell your uncle? He could fix the problem.”

“I’m not getting involved in school politics.”

“It’s hardly political. Deandra’s a bully, and you’re in a better position than most people to do something about it.”

“I was doing something about it. Why do you think I was outside the lab yesterday morning?” He broke into an unexpected grin. “Great minds think alike.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in.

“Wait, you mean…”

“The difference between you and me, Chem Girl?” He leaned in closer, and his breath puffed over my ear. “I was tempted to use a real frog.”

Rune sighed in my ear. “I think I like him.”

That was worrying. And you know what was more worrying? I thought I might like Asher too.

Deandra wasn’t in our biology class, thank goodness, but Tiffany was, and when Professor Eastman announced we needed to work in pairs for a project over the weekend, Tiffany sidled up to the bench me and Asher were sharing.

“Want to work with me, Asher?”

“I already said I’d work with Sky.”

He’d done nothing of the sort, but I found I didn’t mind. Who else would I pair up with? Apart from Asher and Vanessa, I’d basically been avoiding my fellow pupils. I had no desire to make friends with people who might expect me to forgo my precious snooping time to go shopping or play extra sports.

But I didn’t miss the anger that blazed in Tiffany’s eyes. I was the new girl, and whether I’d intended to or not, I was treading on her toes. Well, she’d just have to get over herself. In a week or two, I’d be gone, and I wasn’t about to compromise my work to keep her happy.

“Each pair needs to prepare a slide from plant cells using the squash method, then calculate the mitotic index,” Professor Eastman instructed. “And I’d also like you to design a poster showing the stages of mitosis along with a brief explanation of each. Most of the work can be done in class, but you’ll need to finish off in private study time by Monday.”

Ugh. Homework. We hadn’t had too much of it yet, but Vanessa said the teachers broke us in gently at the start of each school year. And once again, I didn’t understand the questions. Rune, help.

“Mitosis is the way most cells divide,” she told me. “Each division produces two cells that are genetically identical to the parent cell. In any given cell sample, some cells will be in the process of dividing. The mitotic index is the number of dividing cells over the total number of cells. And there are four phases of division: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase.”

What language was she speaking? And what the hell was the squash method?

Thankfully, Asher knew, so he prepped our slides and then talked me through how to set up the microscope and what to look for. I counted the cells and wrote the numbers down, while Rune helped me out by calculating the mitotic index.

“Do my own cells look like that?” I asked Asher as I peered into the microscope again.

“Not quite. They divide in the same way, but animal cells don’t have walls the way plant cells do. I thought you’d studied biology in England?”

Oops. “I might have skipped a few lessons.”

“And yet you still managed to pass your entrance exam?”

Shit. I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. But before I could steer it in a different direction, Asher shrugged.

“Hey, who am I to judge? I didn’t even take the entrance exam.”

Phew. “So, what do you want to do about finishing off this project? Work on it tonight and get it over with?”

“I can’t tonight.”

“Tomorrow?” Not that we had a lot of choice since the paper was due in on Monday.

“I’ve got shit to do in the morning. Gimme your number and I’ll call you.”

“What if I’ve got shit to do in the afternoon?”

“That leaves the evening.” He treated me to another of those stellar grins as he packed up his stuff to go. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Dinner’s also free, you dick.”

“See you tomorrow, Chem.”

If I hadn’t dropped my pen, I might have missed it—the open-mouthed shock on the faces of the two girls sitting behind me.

“What?” I asked.

“Asher Martinez offered to buy you dinner. He never buys anybody dinner.”

“It was a joke.”

“Asher doesn’t joke either.”

“Well, I guess he does now.”

On Sunday, late afternoon found me sitting in an empty classroom with Asher, my laptop, a giant poster-board, and a selection of pens. I didn’t mind being inside for the evening. My feet ached from walking around the campus all day, and it was raining again. Plus I’d snuck some of my art-project jelly beans into my bag, so I had snacks.

I’d arrived first and typed up the results of the experiment, but when I asked Asher if he wanted to read my work over, he said he trusted me. Flattering perhaps, but in reality, I suspected he just couldn’t be bothered. Although he wasn’t bad company. He told me more about Shadow Falls—the town, not the school—and I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t missing much by being stuck up in the hills.

“A one-horse town,” he said. “There’s even a hitching post outside the grocery store.”

“Did you grow up around here?”

“No, in San Diego. Not many horses, but a whole lot of beaches.”

“I know which I’d prefer.”

“Do you surf?”

The only time I’d seen the ocean was when I jetted over it on my way to America, but I could hardly admit that in present company.

“Never tried it. I think I’d fall off the board.”

“Nah, I think you’d do okay. You’re sporty. I saw you out running again this morning. You know you’re not meant to go alone, right?”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Do I look like that kind of guy?”

Hmm, good question. What did a tattletale look like, anyway? I’d come across plenty of police informants, slimy little snakes that’d sell out their friends for cash, but I imagined these things worked differently in a private school.

“You’re a Rosenberg.”

“I’m not a fucking Rosenberg.”

Asher’s words were forceful. Angry, even. He definitely didn’t seem fond of his family. Could I use that to my advantage in any way? Possibly, but I felt like a traitor for even considering it. This job was hard.

“Okay, okay. Fine, you’re not a Rosenberg.”

Asher blew out a long breath. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have flown off the handle. But they’re not my family.”

“But you’re related. What’s the saying? That blood is thicker than water?”

“‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’ It means the opposite—that the family you choose comes first. Did I tell anyone about the frog?”

“I guess not.”

“Then I’m not going to tell anyone about your illicit sporting activities. But I will offer to run with you next weekend if you want company.”

Was that a good idea? I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone at Blackwood, but Asher’s presence would give me a good cover story while I videoed the grounds. I could run with him for an hour and catch up with Emmy and the others in private later. The mapping project was going well. My main task at the moment was sneaking into the private areas to plant bugs, but I could only do one or two rooms a night. I needed to get some sleep too.

“As long as you promise to keep up. And no shortcuts.”

I was starting to like those smiles a little too much.

“Deal.”

By dusk, Asher had drawn four pictures of cell division, and he wasn’t a bad artist, I’d give him that. But he couldn’t bloody spell.

“Prophase has a ‘ph’ in the middle, not an ‘f,’” Rune informed me, and I relayed that little titbit to Asher. He gritted his teeth and grabbed a bottle of Tipp-Ex—or Wite-Out as they called it in America, which was slightly ironic because it seemed the manufacturers of that couldn’t spell either.

“He’s spelled ‘nucleus’ wrong too,” Rune said. “The c’s in the wrong place.” So it was. Nulecus. “And protein is ‘e’ before ‘i.’”

Benign errors, or so I thought, but when I pointed them out to Asher, his reaction was anything but. His pen clattered to the floor.

“If you can do better, then go right ahead.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m just saying…”

“They’re mistakes, that’s all. Work on a Sunday—it’s bullshit.” He shoved his chair back. “I’ve had enough of this.”

The door bounced off the wall and crashed shut behind him, and Rune sounded as shocked as I felt.

“Whoa. Somebody needs a Snickers.”

“What did I say?”

I’d obviously touched a nerve, but which one?

“I have no idea. I mean, you were even polite for once.”

“Is it weird to study on a Sunday? Do you have to at your school?”

“Most people do, unless they work extra in the evenings instead.”

“Should I go after him?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t.”

I didn’t want to either, but I couldn’t allow Asher’s ire to fester. We still needed to work together, and I had chemistry and then biology after assembly tomorrow. But whatever I did, I had to decide fast. The sound of slamming doors was fading.

“Sod it, I have to find him.”

“Good luck.”