The Chosen (9 page)

“Listen,” he said, a little louder than his usual softspoken self. “I was kind of thinking of having you as an alternate on the math team next marking period, after Christmas.”

Chloe almost dropped her books again.
Her?
She wasn’t a geek—just kind of good at math. Or at least better than a lot of other sophomores.

“I don’t know…. I’ve never been much of a joiner.”

“Just think about it, okay?” he begged. “I’d really like you on the team. You’d be a great role model to younger girls.”

“Uh, sure. See ya.” Chloe got out of the classroom as quickly as she could, waving her hand behind her. Her on the math team?
If one more thing gets freaky in my life, just
one more thing,
I swear I’m gonna
—

“Hey, Chloe. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Paul called out to her. He was flipping through the comic books that he had just bought, brown bag under his arm.

“Jekyll and Hyde just basically asked me to join the math team. As an alternate,” she added quickly.

“I didn’t know trig was one of your superpowers. Speaking of, how are things over at the cathouse?”

“They want me to be their leader.” Chloe leaned against the wall and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor. Paul followed suit. She dug through her bag, hoping for a candy bar or something, but only found an old cough drop. It was a little dusty from being at the bottom of her bag, but she unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth anyway. Cherry. Her favorite. “You?”

“My dad has a girlfriend,” he said, staring at the floor with large, unblinking eyes.

Okay. That was officially “it.” The last freaky thing.

“How long?” she asked, also staring at the floor. Paul got embarrassed easily and he looked dangerously close to freaking out, so it seemed the safest thing to do.

“I … I don’t know. I think they knew each other—I know they knew each other—she’s the daughter of some friends of my parents.”

Daughter!

“Korean?”

“Yeah. A lot more … traditional than my mom.
And
a lot younger,” he added with an angry smile. “She’s my dad’s new secretary.”

“Oh, you are
shitting
me,” Chloe sympathized.

Some of the anger drained out of his smile and it became broader, if sadder. “I don’t think they actually had an affair before my parents began the divorce—I don’t even know if they’re sleeping together now. She
still lives at home with her parents—she’s thirty-
two
.”

They sat quietly for a moment, side by side. That seemed like all Paul really wanted: someone to listen and understand and not react. Chloe understood the feeling all too well.

“Would—would you do me a favor?” he asked, sniffing a little.

She nodded.

“Don’t tell Amy?”

Chloe felt her stomach freeze. This was the beginning of a whole new “it.”

“I’ll tell her myself, but not yet—I just found out, and …”

Of course it made sense: things were already weird between her two best friends. Now was not the time for further complications, sympathy, or anger. But he had made Chloe his confidante—once again the three of them were split two to one, but this time Amy was the odd man out.

And if she ever finds out I knew about this before her and didn’t tell, I’m toast.

“Yeah, whatever. Sure,” Chloe said.

They sat there for a few minutes, not speaking. Chloe looked down the empty hall of the math wing, so silent, it was almost like it had already been evacuated for the summer or Christmas vacation. Long rows of green and blue lockers, recently repainted, reflected glossily in the tiles of the floor, extending their length six feet into a blurrier universe. Doors were left open
here and there and the very slightest hint of fresh air managed to tunnel through the ancient smells of paste, dirt, textbooks, and copy paper.

Very soon, Chloe realized, this would all be a memory. Whatever happened with the rest of her life, as a cat or as a human, less than three quick years would pass and all that would remain of these turbulent days were memories, like this silent, still image of her and Paul on the floor.

A bell rang and there was a school-wide shuffling and shifting as those who stayed late or were in detention finally got to go free. Chloe rose to her feet and pulled Paul with her with the ease of her Mai strength.

“I dare you to give me a piggyback ride,” he said weakly.

“Don’t tempt me.” Chloe smiled. “You know, I could have your dad’s girlfriend killed,” she said brightly as they began to walk down the hall together. “I know an entire organization of assassins now. Two organizations, actually.”

“As much as I don’t want to sound like a sensitive New Age boy,” Paul said with a sigh, “I
think
my dad might have something to do with this as well. You know?”

When they got to the lobby, Amy saw them and waved; she had something that looked suspiciously like a giant portfolio under her arm.

“Hey, guys. How are things?” It sounded forced. Even for Amy.

“Not too shabby,” Chloe answered, shrugging.

“How’s Brian?”

Chloe tapped her tooth, remembering at the last moment to keep her claws sheathed. It was really much more satisfying the other way, but they were in public. Finally she decided. If she had no control over the rest of her life, at least she could keep things clear with her friends.

“He kissed me.”

Both of her friends’ jaws dropped, and Chloe wished they could see themselves. They actually made a pretty good couple. It sucked that they were breaking up, considering Chloe was just getting used to them as an item.

“He’s not dead,” she said shakily, hoping it was still true. It had been at least two hours since she last called Dr. Lovsky. “And he hasn’t shown any symptoms yet, either. They’ve got him pretty closely monitored, so if he goes into anaphylactic shock, at least they’ll be able to catch it. He was a
dumbass,
” she added before Amy could open her mouth. “I guess he thought he was going to die—he was so out of it from the blood loss.”

“Holy cow,” Paul said, shocked beyond the realm of swear words. “
Sooo
glad I didn’t wind up with you for two minutes in the closet at Amy’s thirteenth birthday party.”

“Life sucks,” Chloe said, letting the misery descend on her for one brief moment, in the safety of her friends. Then she shook her head. “I’ve got to find out what happened to Xavier.”

Amy shrugged. “I’ve been checking the newspapers and public police records online every day since you asked a couple of weeks ago—nothing has come up about him yet. There was one obituary for a Xavier Constantine, but he was eighty-seven.”

“Well, that’s good news, I guess. Not for the old guy, I mean.”

“Are you going to check out his apartment? See if he’s even still there?” Paul asked.

She shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m … kind of exhausted. I’m just going to go home.” Chloe wasn’t sure she would be able to deal with it if she found out Xavier was dead—one of the reasons she had been putting it off for so long.

“Oh, you’re busy tonight,” Amy said, a little too quickly. She turned to Paul. “You want to hang, maybe? Watch the
Star Trek
marathon?”

As clichéd as it was, Chloe realized this was a train wreck she could only watch. She kept hoping her friends would not say the inevitable.
Superhuman strength, night vision, and no way to salvage the next minute of conversation
. She sighed.

Paul shifted uncomfortably. “Not tonight.”

That’s one….

“Other plans?” Amy pushed, still trying to sound bright.

That’s two….

“No, I just … I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

That’s three!

Between Amy’s constant pressure and Paul’s stupidly excessive honesty at the wrong time, it was amazing they hadn’t spontaneously combusted earlier. Chloe found herself actually closing her eyes and wincing.

“Oh,” Amy said, color rushing to her cheeks.

“Well, I gotta get going,” Paul said, pretending to ignore everything that had just happened. He reshouldered his messenger bag—this one said
Aladdin Sane
on it—and went through the emergency exit that hadn’t been hooked to an alarm system since the seventies, when students started toking up in the alley.
Exit the cowardly hero, stage left
.

“I have to go to the dance meeting,” Amy said shakily, too shocked and upset to react yet.

“
You?
You’re on the fall formal committee?” Chloe asked with more surprise than was strictly necessary, trying to get her friend to smile.

“Alyec bet me I couldn’t do a better job than Mrs. Dinan….”

“I’ll go with you,” Chloe volunteered, thinking about what a smart guy her boyfriend was.

The gym was decorated with little dots of students in socks and bare feet—
No Street Shoes
—with, charts and clipboards, pointing at this set of bleachers and that basketball net, joined by the art teacher, who waved her arm around like she was painting the ceiling. A pile of fake ravens was thrown into a corner, bags of little evil
glowing plastic spiders and caterpillars next to it. Probably favors or something. It was the only time Chloe had actually seen anyone excited about anything in the gym. But through the windows and skylights she could see that the sky was bleakly heading toward sunset, the layers of white clouds like dryer lint after a load of whites. This was the downside of fall—Halloween, leaves, apples, cider, and the beginning of the party season aside, this was a little bit of the autumn that set in before Thanksgiving and lasted through Christmas: dark and drear, cold and snowless.

Chloe led her friend to the closest set of risers, where she could cry in relative peace.

“We haven’t—he hasn’t
said
anything definite … ,” Amy murmured, the tears finally coming.

“Sounds like he pretty much just did,” Chloe said as gently as she could. But sometimes her friend got so wrapped up in her own emotions, she wasn’t able to clearly see what was actually going on around her.

“Hey, pretty ladies.” Alyec neatly vaulted straight up over the side and onto the step where they sat, with an ease and grace that was completely inhuman. No one in the gym was watching. Amy sniffed back a tear; Chloe knew she liked being let in on the Mai’s secret lives, that even
Alyec
trusted her with it. But she still quickly lifted her bright green scarf to cover her face and blot her eyes.

“Hey, we’re waiting for you.”

“I still can’t believe you’re doing this … ,” Chloe muttered.

Amy was still blowing her nose and trying to hide her tears; Alyec answered for her. “Yup, she’s helping with the overall installation. The gestalt, if you will. Putting the ‘Wicked’ in ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes.’” There was an extraloud sniff behind the scarf. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Alyec asked nonchalantly. “And where’s your little friend?”

Chloe whacked him with the back of her hand.

“What, he finally came out of the closet?” Alyec asked., faking concern.

“He’s not
gay,
” Amy protested, blowing her nose and crumpling the napkin up. “It would be easier if he was,” she added weakly.

“Well, he does have a bit of the mama’s boy,” Alyec said. “I mean, he’s nice and all, but not exactly a
stud
. Oh, come
on
.” He grabbed the tasseled ends of Amy’s scarf and tugged them a little. “I’ll bet he never really got your juices going, someone like
you
….” He pulled Amy in and suddenly dipped her so low that her frizzy hair was inches away from the wooden benches, his face inches from hers.

“What are you
doing?
” Amy demanded, the sadness momentarily banished from her face.

“Cheering you up. I could kiss your tears away if you wanted, but that would be fatal—wouldn’t it?”

The two were frozen there for a long moment.
Neither Alyec nor Amy blinked or looked away. Tension crackled.

Chloe found herself staring, too. And then she found herself getting
really annoyed
.

“Let me up, douche bag,” Amy finally snapped, breaking the spell.

“As madam commands; I live to serve.” With one fluid curve of his arm he pulled her upright, then brought it below his stomach for a formal bow.

“Thanks for, uh, staying with me,” Amy said, turning to Chloe. “And for the little lesson about how all men suck,” she added with a glare at Alyec, then marched off toward the art teacher, who now looked like she was conducting an invisible orchestra with a large paintbrush she had found somewhere.

Chloe watched her friend go; as angry as her steps were, she still fidgeted nervously with her scarf and the places where Alyec had touched her.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Chloe demanded, turning back to him.

“I was cheering her up, like I said.” He sat down on the step above her and picked up a flyer that someone had left there, as though the incident was almost completely forgotten.

“
Alyec
.” Chloe tore the paper out of his hand so hard that her claws threatened to come out.

“I wasn’t really going to kiss her,” he said innocently. “I don’t want her dead.”

“You weren’t really
joking
about kissing her either, were you?”

The silence between them was as deep and long as the one between him and Amy—but for very different reasons.

“Chloe,” he said with a smile, “you knew I was a flirt. You’ve
always
known I’m a flirt. It came free with purchase.”

Chloe glowered. She knew what he said was true, but still … It was one thing when it was Keira and Halley and whoever else. He’d
told
her he didn’t really feel anything for them—besides the unavoidable fact that they were human. But her best friend? And
right in front of her?

“And what if you
could?
” she demanded, thinking of Brian and Xavier and her talk with Kim. “Would you have?”

“Chloe, why are you getting so pissed?” he asked, frowning. “Nothing happened—I really was just cheering your friend up.”

But she didn’t believe it. There was definitely something different between him and Amy than the other girls. For one thing, she hated him. And for another, the opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indifference.