Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [102]
“No details,” I said, covering my ears.
“I told him the truth,” Cherie said, throwing herself dramatically on her bed.
“You told him?”
Cherie nodded, burrowing her head into her goosedown pillow. “Of course.”
“He believed you?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because . . . most people simply wouldn’t,” I said, reaching over and flicking my desk lamp on.
“He’s known something was off with Brent. They have been best friends for a long time. And Steve is refreshingly open-minded.” She hefted herself up, reaching onto her chest of drawers and grabbing a piece of gum, folding it into her mouth. “Don’t worry, I took him off campus to fill him in on the plan.” Cherie blew her gum into a bubble that popped, adhering itself to her face. “How did your tutoring go?”
I had met with Dallin twice so far and found that I really liked him. We didn’t get much tutoring done as we kept getting sidetracked with conversation. “Good,” I said. “He’s really nice. He’s horrible at calculus, though. It’s going to take a lot work to get him caught up.”
Cherie picked the gum off her chin and opened her mouth, presumably to ask another question but was interrupted by the phone ringing. She picked it up on the first ring.
“Steve, you were perfect,” she gushed into the receiver. “No, you’re not allowed to ask someone else to the dance.” She laughed. “I can’t believe she already asked you. What a relationship vulture!” Cherie didn’t seem the least bit threatened by her competitor for Steve’s affections. “Yeah, now you have to go hang out with Brent. Yeah, start tonight.”
I tuned out their conversation, hoisting my books out of my backpack. It had been a strenuous week of letting a suspicious Thomas know I had accepted an offer from Dallin to the homecoming dance, and avoiding Brent because I couldn’t lie to him very well, trying to practice my telekinetic moves on the sly, and also meeting with my sister. She had provided the materials we needed, as well as instructions from Vovó. My whole family was overjoyed that I had accepted my Wakerness, feeling confident that I could handle this. I may have fudged a few of the more worrisome details in order to give them that impression.
With a silent groan, I started on my homework. I had a handwritten rough draft of an essay on The Catcher in the Rye when our window slid open, the curtains fluttering in the nippy air.
“Want to tell me what you’ve been up to?” Brent demanded, sitting on the window’s ledge.
My heart jumped somewhere near my tonsils. “Homework,” I answered turning away from him, pretending to still be studying.
“That requires you to leave campus?”
“Yep, needed some books from the public library for a research paper.”
“Cut the crap, Yara,” Brent said with an angry edge to his voice. “I know you’re up to something. I want to know what it is.”
“I’m not up to anything, Brent.”
“Ooh, is he here?” Cherie asked, rising to her knees. I inclined my head and Cherie’s smile grew. “Hey, Steve, can I call you back? Uh-huh . . . yeah, me too. Talk to you soon.”
Brent slapped his hand against his leg. “What did you tell her?”
“Don’t turn this into a thing, Brent. I told her everything.”
“Hey, I have a right to know,” Cherie argued in the direction I was looking. She casually dropped her pillow over the vials of mixed powder my sister had sent us that were currently littering her desk.
“You expect me to believe you told Cherie everything, you both left campus more than once, you’ve been avoiding me, she just staged a fight with Steve, and none of that means you’re up to something dangerous?”
“I think you’re imagining things,” I lied, tapping my pencil against my desk. I hadn’t counted on him being so sneaky, sly, or observant.
“What’s he imagining?” Cherie asked, blowing another bubble.
“He thinks we’re up to something.” I said, recounting his list of our suspicious behavior.
“Wow, major ego?” Cherie smacked her gum again. “I like pretend drama, I think it adds to the passion of relationships. And if you must know, we snuck off campus because . . . Yara needed a new