Keeper Page 2

  When I pulled up, Kaela was waiting on her porch. She hurried toward the van, her long hair swinging as she ran.

  I rolled the window down. “Today Kaela is wearing Abercrombie & Fitch jeans paired with tiny-heeled boots and a chunky sweater. She’s added the perfect accent scarf and finished it off with dangly earrings.”

  Kaela glared at me, trying to bite back a smile as she got in. She was probably glad to have our mornings back to normal, and my red-carpet announcements were routine. Kaela always wore the hottest in gently used fashion, although she’d kill me if I told anyone. I was amazed at what she found in the few thrift stores in a relatively small town, although she preferred to shop in Boise and Salt Lake when she could.

  She handed me a granola bar. “Eat. But only at stoplights.”

  I grinned and took it. Kaela had three younger siblings and was used to taking care of people. I wondered how she’d survived without me to fuss over.

  “How are you feeling about today?” she asked in a stuffy psychologist tone. We’d started joking that way when Kaela’s mom kept trying out her new skills on Kaela and her siblings. But I suspected Kaela was really fascinated with it all. If nothing else, she actually cared about my answers.

  I bit a chunk off the granola bar, avoiding eye contact. “Good.” I didn’t mention the strange dream, or that either my mom was going crazy or I was, and considering the weird night I’d had and the out-of-it way I felt today, there was a good chance it was me.

  The eyes were still seared into my mind. I found myself looking for them as I drove, as if their owner was going to be in a car I passed, or walking down the sidewalk. If Kaela knew how messed up I was, she’d drag me to her sofa for a full-on practice therapy session with her mom.

  “Uh-huh.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “I’ll pretend I don’t see that weird, anxious look on your face. Just don’t let Cheyenne or any of them get to you. Your eyeliner is on point, by the way. So you have that going for you. And I really do love the hair.”

  “Thanks.”

  I pulled into the parking lot of Twin Falls High School. We were late enough that we had to park at the end of the lot. Good thing I wasn’t in too much of a hurry. We heaved our backpacks over our shoulders and headed toward the school, and the knot in my stomach tightened with every step we took.

  Austin was waiting at the front doors, his fingers stuffed into the small pockets of his skinny jeans. He grinned when he saw us and pushed up his thick-framed glasses. Austin always said that when nerds became cool it was like he’d won the lottery. It wasn’t exactly a sitting at the A table kind of cool, though. After all, being skinny and smart and bespectacled wasn’t something he did for style’s sake, and anyway, this was Idaho. Big and burly would always be number one. Still, it worked for him, and it came off as more authentic than hipster.

  Austin clapped a hand on my shoulder as we walked through the double-doors. “Welcome back.”

  A giant blue painted bear stared at me from the wall in the front foyer, teeth and claws bared, looking as welcoming as I expected some of my classmates to be. Honestly, I was probably overestimating my significance in the whole high school scheme of things. Most of the kids who shuffled past me had probably forgotten I existed by now. I gave the bear a nod as we hurried to our lockers to dump off our stuff.

  I pulled my huge binder out of my backpack as Kaela extracted her things and carefully hung her bag on the hook before giving herself a glance in the small bejeweled magnetic mirror. Taking note of the thinning crowd in the hallway, I gently nudged her aside and threw my bags into the bottom of the locker, cramming them in tightly before slamming it closed.

  “See you,” I said to Kaela. She stopped me before I could take off, giving me a careful look and tweaking my hair so it fell just right around my face, her display of affection. Then she hurried to pre-calc, leaving me to follow Austin to speech.

  “You don’t have anything to be nervous about,” Austin said when our room was in sight. “It’s all pretty much blown-over. Besides, you’re in luck. I heard there’s a new kid, an exchange student or something. And all the girls think he’s hot. So looks like he gets the title of Most Talked About now.”

  “How lucky for him.”

  I slid into a desk next to Austin, and he pulled out his notebook to start doodling another work of art. My eyes wandered over to Cheyenne, and she shot me a smug look from across the room. I raised my chin, giving her half a nod.

  Mrs. Martinez hustled into the classroom, clutching an armful of papers and a thermos. She smiled at the class and dropped all her things on the desk just as the bell rang.

  “Looks like today we get to move on from our impromptu debates,” she said, grinning.

  The class broke out into applause.

  “Wait,” a voice called out.

  My head turned, and Cheyenne was smirking at me again.

  “Lexi just got back. She didn’t get a chance to do it.”

  My heart pounded. So much for everyone moving on. My apology was apparently not enough. It looked like Cheyenne had been waiting for her revenge.

  “Come on, she just got back,” Austin said, shaking his head at Cheyenne.

  Cheyenne shrugged. “I just didn’t want her to get a zero and fail speech.”

  The image of the giant blue bear flashed to my mind. Of course there were some students who hadn’t forgotten me. I locked my jaw up tight, determined not to take Cheyenne’s bait. I couldn’t get in trouble again.

  “Sure, and it has nothing to do with the mouse that made its way into your backpack after Lexi let them loose?” Austin muttered.

  Mrs. Martinez gave Austin a warning glance. She turned her eyes to me and bit her lip, giving me a long look, as if I was a problem she needed to solve. “These really are pretty casual, Lexi. You’ll be given a topic, which you will debate for a couple of minutes just for practice. Then we’re going to see how much you’ve improved after we learn how to do it properly.” She scanned the classroom. “Someone would have to go again. She needs a partner.”

  The class broke out in a murmur with everyone volunteering the person next to them. Then suddenly the noise stopped. Everyone was looking at the door, where a blond boy stood with his head down.

  He looked up, staring at all of us with large, silvery-blue eyes.

  Chapter 3

  They paused on mine for a brief moment, and I couldn’t breathe. I felt a click, like two magnets coming together.

  He stiffened, looking away as he made his way to an empty desk. Even Mrs. Martinez seemed distracted, staring at him without remembering to introduce him.

  I wrapped my hands around the edges of my desk as an image flashed through my mind. I was being held against my will in a white, sterile room. I was looking into the same narrow face I’d just seen walk into my class, with his sharp cheekbones and small, pointed chin. He had the same hair, blond with streaks that looked platinum under the bright lights surrounding him, and the same large, pale eyes, set beneath darker, angled brows. I’d struggled against the straps that held me down, but calm trickled through me like a drug, and I fell back against the firm bed.

  He’d looked at me and I’d felt that connection, like something locking into place, only it was stronger, as if the bond was being formed for the first time. I couldn’t look away, not only because of my fascination with him, but because I was literally captivated, my body numb, my jaw slack.

  The memory drifted away. I let go of the desk, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed my troubling episode. I reached for my pen, hoping for something to clutch, something to make me look normal when I felt anything but. Instead I flipped it off my desk and it went clattering across the floor.

  Cheyenne snickered. I knew how I must look with my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open. But even as heat crept up my neck I couldn’t drag my eyes off of him. Not even the voice in my head, screaming at me to look away, could penetrate the shock that left me short of breath as it constricted my chest.<
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  “Hey,” Austin whispered. My pen hovered in front of me. Finally I took it from Austin’s hand without looking at him.

  “Mrs. Martinez.” It was Cheyenne’s voice again. It was like a grain of sand stuck in between my toes, irritating me even as my attention was elsewhere. “Who’s the new guy?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Martinez hurried to her desk to rifle through her papers. She plucked one out of the stack. “Everyone, this is Micah Noble.”

  “Maybe he should go up and have a turn,” Cheyenne said in a flirty tone. “We could get to know him a little.”

  “Um, Micah,” Mrs. Martinez said, “have you had any experience in debate?”

  “Yes.”

  His voice was as familiar as his eyes, sending a shiver through me. The words don’t be afraid echoed in my head as I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. I waited for him to speak again. I needed it and I dreaded it.

  “Debate is a formal discussion or argument between two parties on a particular topic,” Micah said. His full lips turned up slightly, as if he were proud of his answer. He was either a smart aleck or completely clueless. Then again, Austin had said he was an exchange student, so maybe it was just a cultural thing.

  There were a few snickers, mostly male. The girls were probably too busy staring with starry eyes. I doubted any of them felt like they’d just had the wind knocked out of them like I did, and it wasn’t because of his good looks.

  I turned my eyes to Austin, whose expression was twisted up in disbelief. “Who is this guy?” he mouthed.

  “Sounds like you’re up to speed,” Mrs. Martinez said. “Would you be interested in an impromptu debate right now, Micah? I know I’m putting you on the spot. You don’t have to say yes, but it really might be a good way for us to get to know you.”

  “Okay.” The way he said it took all the casualness out of the word. Then he straightened and smiled again. It was as if the prospect of standing up in front of a class full of strangers pleased him somehow. Austin was right. The guy was not normal.

  I watched Micah set his backpack down near his desk and move toward the front of the room. There was no way I was getting out of my chair. I couldn’t speak, let alone have a debate with him.

  This was crazy. There was no way I’d actually seen this boy in my dreams, or that I had some kind of weird connection with him. Maybe I really did need therapy. There was clearly something wrong with me. Besides, if I asked to see the school counselor I might be able to get out of this debate.

  “And what should our topic be?” Mrs. Martinez scanned a sheet of paper.

  “How about whether or not animals should be used for educational purposes in schools,” Cheyenne blurted out.

  It was enough to break my trance. I turned toward her, trying to keep the words I wanted to say from exploding all over her as she failed to cover a grin with her hand. The girls around stifled giggles as well.

  “Somebody sure is eager to participate today,” Mrs. Martinez said, giving Cheyenne a curious glance. “Does that topic sound good to you, Lexi?” She looked at me, then her eyes widened. She must have remembered. “Oh, that’s probably not a good idea. We should choose another topic,” she said quickly.

  “Why?” Cheyenne asked. “I think it would be nice for all of us to understand why Lexi here released all the mice we were supposed to use in biology class. I mean, I know my education suffered.” She widened her big blue eyes, her sweetly freckled face all innocence.

  “I don’t think Lexi meant to release the mice into the school,” Mrs. Martinez said, “or cause a stampede in the hallway that got you—”

  “Slammed into my locker?”

  Mrs. Martinez nodded. “And I’m sure she’s very sorry one of them got into your backpack.”

  The image of the cage door bursting open and the mice tumbling into the hall made my stomach turn. I hadn’t planned to do any of it. I certainly never meant to make a big statement. But I couldn’t help myself when I saw them all huddled in there, ready to be sliced open and prodded at.

  “Also, is anyone else nervous about the fact that Lexi could break into any locker in the school if she wanted?” She leaned forward to whisper, “Especially seeing as how mental instability runs in the family.”

  I whipped around, grabbing my desk to keep myself from jumping up. “If you want to see crazy—”

  “Cheyenne, another comment like that and you have detention,” Mrs. Martinez said. “Lexi, I’ll choose a different topic.”

  “No,” I said taking a deep breath. “The topic will be fine.” Maybe I could make them understand why I’d done it. I looked at Austin for a dose of courage as I stood up and walked to the front of the classroom. I kept my eyes away from Micah.

  “Heads or tails, Lexi?” Mrs. Martinez asked as she searched her pockets.

  “I got it.” Austin pulled out a quarter and flipped it.

  “Heads,” I said as Austin’s bronze hand covered the coin.

  He pulled his hand away. “It’s—” He grinned, but I knew him well enough to know something was up. “It’s heads.”

  He went to grab it, but the guy sitting next to him, Hank Stillman, leaned over. “It’s tails,” Hank said. “Nice try.”

  I swallowed.

  “Okay, that means you get to choose, Micah,” Mrs. Martinez said. “Pro or con position.”

  I glanced over, seeing that Micah’s hands were clasped stiffly behind his back. Even if he was enough of a freak to enjoy this kind of thing, I was sure he looked a little nervous too. Maybe I had conflicting feelings about this total stranger, but I couldn’t help feeling bad for him. Being put on the spot on your first day of school in a new place was a tough break.

  As I looked at his twisting hands, a memory flashed through my mind. I touched my wrist gingerly, imagining trembling fingers brushing against it. Whatever was going on with me, I wished it didn’t have to happen as I stood in front of my speech class. I blinked hard and turned my head. Not looking at Micah was definitely a better choice.

  “Which do you choose, Micah?” Mrs. Martinez asked again.

  “Con,” Micah said.

  There were a few giggles in the classroom. Mrs. Martinez gave me a pitying look.

  Great. I got to explain why what I did was totally unacceptable. I turned toward the class, letting my breath out slowly as I twisted my longest strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear.

  “The reason animals should be used for education—”

  “Resolved. You’re supposed to say resolved,” Austin whispered.

  “Fine. Resolved: Animal dissection should be allowed for educational purposes in high schools.” Saying it made me feel woozy. “This is because it’s better for students to have a hands on experience.”

  I looked at Cheyenne and her friends, who were grinning as I made a fool out of myself.

  I tipped my chin up as my cheeks burned. “It’s also good because ... some psychopaths who like to cut up living creatures have the opportunity and a controlled environment in which to do so.” A few people giggled as I glanced at Mrs. Martinez, whose eyes were wide again.

  “I mean, trust me, no one in my biology class is going to grow up and become a surgeon, and if they do they’ll have the opportunity to study the body more in depth in college, with consenting human beings, which sounds more useful and humane. So doesn’t it make more sense to teach biology to high school students with an app or something? It would be a lot cheaper.”

  Austin’s dark brows were raised as high as they could go. I knew I’d totally just started making points for my opponent, but I didn’t care. I’d gone as far as getting suspended for those furry little guys. I wasn’t going to back down now.

  Micah made a disgusted noise, apparently not impressed with my argument, and I turned. For a second I’d forgotten he was there, although now that I was looking at him I didn’t know how that was possible.

  “Another loss for education in favor of a few dollars.” His eyes lit up with exci
tement, appealing to the class as he spoke. “Things such as technology are only a small part of the potential humanity has to offer. Understanding life and how the body works is of infinite value. Surgeons aren’t the only people who should understand these things.” He began twisting his hands again, suddenly looking less sure of himself. “Sadly people have the tendency to get caught up in the details, and progress is stalled because of emotional attachments.”

  I took a step toward him, anger creeping into my voice. “When compassion becomes a minor detail to be put aside for the sake of progress, I’ll be much more concerned about the human race.” I felt myself losing control, but it was like an out-of-body experience, with someone else pulling my strings. I took a slow breath, remembering where these feelings had gotten me that day with the mice. Not that I regretted that.

  “Admit it,” he said stiffly. “Many young people are squeamish.” He kept his eyes on the class, which was probably the appropriate way to engage in a debate, but it drove me crazy. “Not only do they refuse to respect the opinions of their instructors and other experts, they don’t want to get their hands dirty.”

  Mrs. Martinez was wringing her hands, pacing forward and back again as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to intervene.

  “It’s not about getting my hands dirty,” I spat, taking another step. “It’s inhumane. Even the way they’re boxed up and shipped around is cruel.”

  Finally his icy eyes locked onto mine, and he took a step too. His face was inches from mine and I stared into his cold, hard eyes.

  “They are a lesser species,” he said. “It is necessary to use whatever tools we have for the sake of education.” He glanced down, the look of uncertainty creeping in again. Then he took a deep breath and met my eyes again. “For the sake of our own higher species,” he said quietly.

  Another shiver went through me. “Tools? How can you talk like that? Like we can treat them however we want, just because we’re more powerful than them. If anything we should be helping creatures that are inferior to us.”