Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) (14 page)

“Yes. No. Well… kind of. I don’t know all the details. I just know where Benson is now, that is, if he’s still alive.”

I was about to ask Mia what she meant when Everett slammed his tray down on the table. Mia and I started. Anger was still in his eyes as he hissed, “Why aren’t you sitting with your boyfriend, Sophie?”

“What are you talking about?” Mia asked.

His icy glare sent a shiver through me. I was suddenly irate. Why did he have to drag this out? I wished we could pretend it never happened.

“Everett, stop pouting and sit down.” Mia sounded put out. “You’re making a scene.”

Everett didn’t move, but stood there, willing me to tears with his livid eyes. It was all I could do not to cry again.

I opted for the high road. “I’m so sorry, Everett. I shouldn’t have said—”

“Save it,” he spewed. “We’re not friends, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Everett!” Mia scolded, looking as shocked as I felt.

I bit my lip trying not to cry. He had every right to be mad at me, but did he have to be so callous?

Something caught my eye. I glanced over to see Hagen waving me down from a table with a small crowd around him across the lunch room. My heart fell. This was the last thing I needed. I looked at Everett to find that, sure enough, he’d noticed, too. He glared Hagen’s way, making no attempt to hide the hatred in his eyes.

“Ignore him, Everett,” I pleaded. “I don’t care about him. I care about you and feel terrible about what happened. Will you please sit down and talk to me?”

He turned his eyes on me again, wilting me under their intense heat. “Go.”

“What? Everett, please, I—”

“I don’t want you here. Go.”

“But, I—”

“I said go!” he growled.

“Fine,” I said, pushing my chair back with my good leg. “I wanted to sit with you and smooth things over, but if you want me to sit with Hagen so badly, then that’s fine.”

I had tried. I’d done my best, but my pride could only take so many hits. If Everett didn’t want me, then I knew who did. Forcing a smile, I gathered the dreads of my shredded confidence, stood and tossed my hair, and waved at Hagen. I headed over, trying my best not to limp, feeling Everett’s eyes on me all the way.

“What happened to you?” Hagen asked as I reached him.

“You know. You saw the whole thing,” I answered, not wanting to relay the embarrassing story of falling up the stairs to the audience of eavesdropping students.

“I saw Everett push you. And then you went down hard,” Hagen said.

“Everett Sinclair? He pushed you?” one of the girls sitting at the table asked a little too loudly.

“I saw the whole thing,” Hagen replied, giving me a wink. “It was awful.”

I looked behind me, catching Mia’s concerned frown and Everett’s glare.

“He would. What a jerk!” a girl said. “First his brother and now this.”

“He’s clearly dangerous,” a super skinny girl added. “What respectable guy pushes a girl? I bet what people are saying about him is true after all.”

“Probably. He’s a freak.” The guy shook his head.

“Wait! That’s not what—” I started.

“I’m being rude, aren’t I, Sophie. I forgot to introduce you,” Hagen cut me off. He stood and put his arm around my shoulders, announcing, “Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Sophie Cohen.”

“What?” I turned to him. Had I heard correctly? Had Everett put him up to this? One glance in Everett’s direction told me that wasn’t the case.

Feeling the daggers from jealous female eyes stabbing into me, I looked around the table. All of the girl’s mouths were open in shock, but no one was as stunned as I.

“But I hardly know you,” I murmured in Hagen’s ear.

“It’s all good, babe. Just ride the wave,” he replied, looking deep into my eyes.

Lucky for me, Hagen and I hit it off, spending much of our time together after that fateful lunch. Everett made his decision. He clearly didn’t want me, so I made do with Hagen, putting the debacle behind me. Yet it was a hard task, as every time my knee or ribs ached over the next month, I thought of Everett — of how he’d saved me, bandaged my knee, and been my hero before totally letting me down. Not that what I’d done to him was any better. I was haunted by the pain in his eyes from that day. Though my body eventually healed, emotional wounds remained — gaping, bloody, and raw.

I was plagued with thoughts of Everett, unable to get him out of my mind. It drove me mad, leading me to avoid him at all costs — even when he tried to apologize in Dr. Trivedi’s class a few days later, understandably upsetting him and leading him to avoid me, too.

With Mia living next door, figuring out our dizzy dance of evading each other was challenging, but soon, it was like Everett and I were divorced parents with joint custody over Mia. I had her nights and weekends, and he had her during the weekdays. This worked out nicely since I mostly hung out with Hagen during the week, and soon three months had gone by with neither Everett nor I speaking to the other.

In that time, I learned that Hagen was quite a gentleman. Case in point: though he was way more “experienced” than I, he was patiently giving me time to grow comfortable with the idea of being physically intimate. I loved things about Hagen that proved Everett wrong, and I reported these findings to Mia in hopes she’d relay them to him.

Gloriously handsome Hagen! I never thought I’d be that girl: the “it girl” who dated the “it guy.” Before I’d come to Brightman, I’d been the shy bookworm with a geeky dad and a passion for painting, cooking, and reading. Now I was popular and well accepted. I knew most everyone who attended school at Brightman, and better yet, everyone knew me. Well, not exactly. A lot of people knew me as “Hagen Dibrom’s girlfriend.” But still, it was better than being unknown.

While being popular was fun, it wasn’t all I expected it to be, but I played along upon learning the rule of the game: it wasn’t about reality and who actually was the best but about who could create the best facade of perfection. Understanding this helped me to not take it personally when I soon realized people only hung out with Hagen and me — Brightman’s golden couple — in hopes our good standing would rub off on them. They were leeches, hanging around for a time before unlatching to drain blood from the next best thing. They got in, got more popular, and got out.

Only late at night in the safety of my bed would I admit to myself that maybe Everett was right. No one was caring and kind like he and Mia and I found it peculiar how lonely I felt much of the time despite the crowd of people constantly around me. Getting to genuinely know others was never part of the process, and once people got what they wanted, they threw you to the curb.

Realizing Everett was right about people in general led me to wonder if he was right about Hagen, too. Was Hagen just another leech with an ulterior motive? Could I trust him? Hagen did have his flaws, like incessantly spreading rumors and talking badly about people behind their backs. He always had a new story, lie, or twist to add.

Though, any convictions were soon forgotten once I was alone with Hagen. I’d look into his eyes and suddenly feel understanding as he explained things away or presented a gift. Like many students at Brightman, Hagen’s parents were very wealthy, and the more inundated I became with pretty trinkets and expensive jewelry, the more I didn’t seem to mind Hagen’s shortcomings. And while I was disappointed in myself that my affection could most definitely be bought, it prevented me from rocking the boat.

Everything was perfect. I had Hagen, was the envy of every girl at Brightman, and was doing well in my classes. Why change things when they were going so well on their own?

But, if things really were so perfect, why did I fight back tears of regret and fears of opportunities missed when I was alone at night? Why wasn’t Hagen or popularity enough? Why did I miss Everett?

Chapter 18

Slow Torture

I hated watching them. What a joke. What a lie. It was sick, masochistic torture, but I couldn’t look away.

Sophie had been dating Hagen for over three months now, and to my surprise, they were still going strong. He hadn’t ditched her yet, she wasn’t sick of him yet, and she hadn’t seemed to figure out his many flaws.

It was painful to admit, but neither had I.

I watched at lunch as Hagen absentmindedly put his arm around Sophie or held her delicate hand. The mere thought of him touching her drove me mad. I waited day after day for a signal the attention was unwarranted — for any excuse to pounce and take Sophie away — but it never came. Instead of flinching away from Hagen’s touch, she leaned into him. Instead of growing tired of his half-witted jokes, she put her hand on his and laughed.

Bewitched and blinded, she was unaware that he was the semi who would barrel through her any day now, leaving behind only a trail of blood and guts. It made me nauseated to watch the repulsive display of… well… whatever it was. I just knew it couldn’t be love, and while that eased me, it was only by a little.

Mia sat with me at lunch, often saying stupid things like, “Count to ten, Everett,” or “Breathe!” But her attempts to calm me were futile. Every time Hagen stroked Sophie’s arm or stared deep into her eyes — like he so often did — it fueled the flame, driving me to find dirt on him that much more.

I had the authority to rip Sophie from Hagen’s clutches. I often entertained the idea of taking her far away and holing up somewhere remote, but then I’d remember why she was placed at Brightman. I’d remind myself that remaining close to PORTAL headquarters ensured her safety — as Divaldo was unlikely to send an operative into our territory — before hesitantly tucking my fantasy of escape away and returning to the monotony of watching Sophie by day and researching Hagen by night.

While I definitely experienced a negative gut reaction with Hagen, my infatuation with Sophie blurred my judgment, making it difficult to tell whether the unpleasant feelings actually stemmed from my fine-tuned instincts or jealousy that he was dating Sophie. Not wanting to divulge that I’d developed feelings for the girl I was assigned to protect, I had yet to disclose my suspicions to PORTAL, which also meant sacrificing clearance to the agency’s extensive research databases and resources, only granted on an as-needed basis.

This was foolish of me as research was a huge part of what the Paranormal
Research Taskforce
and Anti-Warfare League did well and the only thing that would help me nail Hagen. But I refused to open that can of worms leaving me researching Hagen on my own when I could with the limited resources available to me — and racing against time knowing the longer it took me to find dirt on Hagen, the more time it gave Sophie to grow attached to him.

What would hurt her more: to find Hagen was a bad person now or, if I never found anything on him, to naively fall for him and get her heart broken when he inevitably left her? As her protector, what was the right answer when she’d end up hurt either way? If I found dirt on Hagen and let Sophie know, she’d probably hate me, but I’d much rather endure the brunt of her anger than allow her relationship with Hagen to play out, for the wounds he’d inflict would be far worse. And if my reoccurring dreams of Hagen and Sophie were telling in any way, those wounds wouldn’t be emotional but physical as well.

The nail on the coffin was that all of it — the horror I was forced to witness day after day — was my doing. I was the one who fell for Sophie over the summer. Once she was in arm’s reach at Brightman and we were finally getting to know each other, I was the one who pushed her away. I was the one who cowered when things got too real, afraid of what she’d think if she knew what I truly was. And worst of all — bile rose in my throat at the thought of it — I was the one who drove Sophie into Hagen’s arms.

Beat down by fear, anger, and doubt, the feelings escalated until, one day, I simply couldn’t do it anymore.

“I quit, Sal! I want off the case,” I fumed to Emmanuel Salvatore, PORTAL’s Agency Director. He was like a second father to me, though he was a good decade younger than my own dad.

“What?” Sal looked up from his desk, half startled.

“Take me off Sophie Cohen’s case.” After yet another lunch hour watching Hagen and Sophie laugh, flirt, and gaze into each other eyes, I had finally snapped. I felt like I was losing my mind.

The look on Sal’s face smothered my anger. Lucidity returned to me and I took a step back realizing what I’d done. Barging into his office unannounced on an anger-driven whim was enough of an offense, but I’d also told him what to do. Sal’s twelve guards caught up to me then, profusely apologizing to him as they painfully twisted my arms behind my back and grabbed my legs to carry me out.

Knowing I’d disrespectfully overstepped, I braced for Sal’s reprimand, but it never came. Instead, he laughed. The guards froze, bewildered.

“Rett, the look on your face when you stormed in here was priceless.” He chuckled to the guards, “Let him go, guys. Please return to your posts and be a little more vigilant next time.” As soon as we were alone, he asked, “What’s ruffled your feathers?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling insecure and foolish for coming at all. “I want off Sophie’s case,” I said, sounding like I was asking a question.

Though Sal’s ocean-blue eyes were kind, his face was serious. “Have a seat, Rett.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable under the heat of his eyes. I always got the sense that Sal could see deep into my soul when he looked at me, that he saw more than what physical eyes could conceive, into the very heart of me.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“But I came unannounced. I can come back another time.”

“Why do you doubt my admiration for you, Rett? You know my door is always open to those I love. Please. Sit.” As I did, Sal went on. “Sophie’s case is highly classified. I can’t give it to anyone. Something must have happened to make you feel this way. What is this really about?”

I always wondered why he posed questions he seemingly already knew the answers to. I thoroughly regretted coming in right then. What was I to tell him? That I’d fallen madly in love with Sophie? Though it wasn’t outright forbidden, I couldn’t foresee that going well.