Secret of the Sevens (2 page)

The skin between her eyes crinkles, but she doesn't move away. We're so close, I can feel her breath on my lips. We're caught in a staring contest and a game of chicken to see who backs away first. I try not to get distracted by her wide eyes and heart-shaped lips. I've seen the destruction girls like Laney can do to guys who don't know any better.

I go on offense, moving a centimeter closer. “Is that zit cream on your face?”

Her hand flies to her nose, and she draws back a couple inches.

I love to mess with this girl.

“You probably floss before bed too, don't you? Right after you memorize a page in the dictionary and recite your prayers. Such a waste of a perfectly good vagina.”

She clenches her jaw so tight that her collar bones bulge.
I win
.

“That's it.” Laney jerks around and points to the door. “Get outta my room, you perv. I'm telling.”

So much for winning. “No. Don't!”

She storms for the door and I leap up to block her way. “Why shouldn't I?”

“Because you'd never hurt anyone, not even me. Not to mention that you love Singer School. You wouldn't want to hurt our chances to beat Oakland, would you?”

“Dang you!” She throws her hands in the air. “Fine. But you owe me. And it has to be something big. Did you ever once consider what would happen to me if someone caught you sneaking out of my room?”

“Your reputation would improve?”

She pinches my arm.

“Ow!” I lower my voice and grab her wrist again. “You wouldn't get in any trouble. You're the poster child for Singer School. You could tell them we were studying when our clothes accidentally fell off and they'd believe you. Plus, our houseparents are your
parents
. What do you think they'd do, kick you out? I'm the one that'd get tossed like Tuesday's trash.”

She shoves me toward the door. “That's not what I mean, and you know it.” Her eyes lock on mine. “I could lose the Pillars.”

We reach for the doorknob at the same time and my hand lands over hers. I'm running out of time here. I've got to get downstairs ASAP, and I need to know for sure that she'll cover for me. “Okay, okay. Whatever you want. I swear. You decide. Just let me go now before I get caught.”

She hesitates, then opens the door a sliver and peeks out. She tiptoes to the end of the hall and peers around the corner, waving to me when it's okay for me to leave. I creep along the wall to the basement door.

As I brush past her, she whispers a reminder. “You owe me now.”

Two

The next morning I sprint the whole way, but I'm still late. As usual. I yank the auditorium door open and hesitate. Everyone is shoulder to shoulder, not a single empty seat in sight.

I hear a rowdy laugh and spot Marcus in the center of his minions. He nods to me. Yeah, thanks for saving a seat, bro.

Jake calls my name from four rows down. Before I take two steps, Alyssa Hernandez waltzes up, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. She says something to Jake and his head nods like a bobblehead. She slips into the seat and Jake gives me an apologetic look before he goes back to grinning like an idiot.

To my right, Jessica Kingston waves frantically and points to the seat next to her. I pretend not to see her; I'm not setting myself up to let that crazy chick think I'm into her.

Professor Haney comes up behind me and scoots me down the aisle toward the front seats.

I spot Delaney in the first row, next to Kollin. Of course. He probably wanted to sit close so he wouldn't have to walk very far when they called his name. Other than Delaney, Kollin is most likely to be one of the six students chosen as a Pillar, the biggest honor given to Singer students. He's going to be insufferable when he gets it.

There's an open spot in the row behind them, a seat over from Laney. I slide down the row and poke her shoulder. I might as well be nice since she saved my butt last night. “Good luck, Shanahan.”

“Late again, huh?” She gives me a nervous smile and shakes her head. “That'll teach you. Now you're stuck sitting up front with us nerds.”

Kollin snaps at her, “Speak for yourself.” He twists around to glare at me. “In one hour, every student at Singer will wish they were us.”

I'd tell him to fuck off, but he's right. Singer's not your typical boarding school, after all; it's a private school for underprivileged kids from troubled homes. To most students here, being selected as a Pillar is par to winning the lottery. Pillars get privileges and perks that no one else gets. Things like extended curfews, cell phones, Skybox tickets, and even passes to leave campus whenever they want. They get full-ride scholarships, generous allowances, and private suites in Winchester House, the nicest student home on campus.

Behind me, a group of Laney's friends yell to wish her luck. She blushes and mouths
thank you
, then clasps her trembling hands in her lap.

Headmaster Boyle stands sentinel on the far right side on the stage, his eyes trained on me. He glowers and nods to let me know he sees me. School doesn't officially start for three more days, and he's already on my case. Boyle must suspect something's up for me to be sitting apart from my usual crowd. The guy's had a permanent radar on me ever since I blew up his pencil sharpener in fourth grade.

When Boyle retreats to the podium and recites the same speech he gives every year at orientation, I get distracted by the soft brown waves in Delaney's hair. My eyes trace a sun-streaked path to the curled ends. She usually wears a ponytail, but she went all out today with makeup and a new dress.

A crackle from the microphone diverts my attention back to Boyle's speech. “Our honorable founders William and Mary Singer believed that a child's life should be molded by his character and aspirations rather than his limitations. They dedicated their lives and fortune to Singer School, so that everyone in this room could have the resources and opportunities to achieve great things in the world.”

Yep. Same speech.

My eyes return to Laney's tanned shoulders and the yellow straps that hold her sundress up. It takes me back to the first time I ever saw her.

My grandma motions to the end seats in the back row of the auditorium. “Let's sit here, Tally.” She hobbles into the aisle, struggling to keep her balance on the sloped floor.

I shimmy into the row and plead with her again. “Mom said she's going to get better and come get me. She says you'll both get better and I can come home then. She promised.”

Gram points to the second chair over, and I sit. “You're going to be happy here, Talan. This is a wonderful place or I wouldn't put you here.”

“But mom said—”

She lowers herself into her seat and pats my hand. “Your mom is sick. She needs help.”

“I know what it is. It's drugs.”

Gram brushes my shaggy bangs out of my eyes. “You know too much for a seven-year-old.” She lifts my chin with her finger. “You're better off here. They'll take care of you and give you everything we can't. Nice clothes, your own room, toys—”

“I don't care.” As the principal begins his speech, I lean closer to Gram. “Please don't leave me here.”

“I have to, honey. I can't take care of you anymore, and your mom is in trouble. This is a safe place for you. Remember how scared you were when the police came?”

I nod.

“You'll be happy here. Give it a chance.”

The principal is saying big words I don't understand. Gram is breathy and gray next to me, and I don't want to argue and upset her. It's hard enough for her to be away from her oxygen tank.

I sigh and turn my head toward the stage. A girl in the row in front of us is staring at me. She must have been listening.

She's wearing a bright yellow sundress, and her hair is pulled tight into a ponytail. She looks cleaner than the girls I go to Emerson Elementary with. I can smell the soap on her skin from where I'm sitting.

I glare at her, but she waves and gives me a nervous smile. When I give her the finger, she rolls her eyes and giggles at me. She's pretty and perfect and happy.

I never hated anyone so much in my life.

The sound of clapping snaps me out of it.

“Before we announce this year's Pillar nominees,” Headmaster Boyle says, “allow me to introduce the new Chairman of the Board of Singer Enterprises—Stephen Kane.”

A slick, polished guy wearing a sharp black suit and perfectly coiffed hair strides onstage, waving like a game show host. Everything about the guy is shiny: his shoes, his hair, his thick gold watch, even the pocket square poking out of his breast pocket. He's smoother than hundred-year-old Scotch.

A redheaded woman follows him onstage, fingering her diamond necklace and scanning the audience before sitting in a folding chair near the backdrop. She claps twice and checks the time on her watch like she's late for a spa appointment.

For a man who insists that students greet adults with strong handshakes, Headmaster Boyle shakes Mr. Kane's hand like there's poison ivy on it. He trudges back to his seat next to the redhead, taking his stiff scowl with him.

Kane rests one arm on the lectern and flashes a smile so white I can see it when I close my eyes. “Thank you, Matthew. It's an honor to be here today.” His chest puffs out as if he's accepting an Academy Award. “When I took over as Chairman of the Board at Singer Enterprises last spring, I took the task of selecting this year's Pillar pledges very seriously. You see, I'm not just an alumnus of Singer School. I was also the first Pillar ever selected, after the heartbreaking scandal that rocked this fine institution.”

Did he just say that?
Although everyone at our school knows about the murder of William Singer, adults avoid the subject like a scar you pretend you don't notice on someone's face. It seems strange to bring it up on a day when we're supposed to be welcoming new students. No matter how you word it, it's pretty creepy that our school's founder was murdered by some students in a secret society.

Kane rambles on. “It was difficult to choose from so many exceptionally qualified candidates, but I'm satisfied I've selected six students that will serve us very well indeed. In honor of the new Pillars and recent changes at Singer Enterprises, I've taken it upon myself to update the school's motto to reflect more modern ideals.”

He strolls to the side of the stage and tugs on a long rope hanging from the ceiling. An enormous banner flops down, echoing through the auditorium as it bangs the floor. “Success through excellence!” he announces with a self-satisfied smile. Several people clap weakly and I wonder if he pulled this lame motto off a coffee mug.

Kane gazes around the crowd and strides back to the podium. “This new motto reminds us all to strive for those qualities which define Pillar excellence.” Kane reads the words listed on the banner: “Pride, Passion, Achievement, Strength, Glory, and Leadership.”

He snatches the microphone out of its stand and struts across the front of the stage like a rock star. “I'm here to promise you, you can expect a new era of success for Singer Enterprises
and
for Singer School. We've got the energy and the talent to lead the next wave of movers and shakers. And you—every one of you—now has the potential and backing to create the kind of life you deserve. Excellence will be richly rewarded here.”

His dark, intense eyes sweep over the auditorium, while the reflection of his smile bounces off Professor Solomon's bald head and burns a hole in my retinas.

The guy's got charisma, I'll give him that.

“For instance,” he says, “this year we're expanding the Pillar program to include additional opportunities such as trips to Aspen over Christmas and Dubai over the summer, college internships at the Singer Enterprises headquarters, and networking with famous celebrities and successful business leaders.

A buzz rises in the audience, and Kane holds up one hand.

“So without further ado”—Kane pulls an index card from his pocket—“it's now my great pleasure to announce the names of the newest Pillars.”

Laney's back straightens and the muscles in her jaw lock in a tight smile. She takes slow breaths as Kane reads the first three names: “Congratulations to … Kayla Kaminski, Iman Kabal, and Zack Hunter. Would the first three nominees please rise and accept your certificates?”

A surprised chatter rolls through the crowd. With the exception of Zack, these are not exceptional students. And even Zack doesn't make sense as a Pillar. He's full of something, all right, but it isn't excellence.

Laney takes a sharp breath and holds it. Her face grows pale. To her left, Kollin mumbles, “What the … ”

“Next,” Kane reads, “I have chosen … Samantha Mann and Nick Robinson.”

If I had a drink in my mouth, this is where I'd spit it out. Mann and Robinson are notorious scumbags. When Samantha's houseparents found a stolen purse in her room last year, she lied and blamed it on her roommate. They couldn't prove which girl took it, so they both lost privileges for a month.

Nick Robinson is even slimier than Samantha. He got caught selling weed on campus, then offered a deal to the administration to narc out everyone who bought from him to save himself from being expelled. Any community service he listed on his Pillar application would have been required by court order.

As the first of the Pillars step onstage to shake Kane's hand and receive their awards, there's chaos in the crowd. I look around the room, half-expecting it to be some kind of joke. Everyone reflects the same shocked expression. Everyone but the new Pillars, who gather onstage passing smug smiles and high-fiving one another.

Laney and Kollin stare at each other, bug-eyed and open mouthed. In the surreal blur of announcements, I realize there's only one Pillar left to be named. Which means at least one of them won't make it.

Kane returns to the microphone. “Your final Pillar for this school year is—”

Laney pleads with her eyes.

“—Cameron Moore!”

A collective gasp rises at the same time Delaney's shoulders sink like a drop on a roller coaster. Cameron Moore is so shady, even the teachers are shaking their heads.

Laney's eyes fill fast, and she tries to blink away the tears. Her bottom lip quivers as it forms a plastic smile. She swallows hard, holds her head high, and claps for the newest
Pillars.

“That's bullshit!”

The voice comes out of nowhere. It's angry. And defiant.
And mine.

I'm on my feet now, shaking with an anger I can't explain. Laney's wide, glassy eyes bounce between me and the front stage. Kane ignores my outburst and greets Cameron Moore when he walks to the podium.

“Bullshit!” I yell louder.

Headmaster Boyle zeroes his eyes on mine until we're locked in some kind of face-off. The corners of his mouth curl into a strange smile and a chill skips along my spine. I sneer at him, waiting for some sort of explanation from the man who constantly drills us about being fair and honorable.

I'm about to shout again when a wrinkled hand squeezes the top of my shoulder. “That's enough, Mr. Michaels!” Professor Solomon grabs my collar and yanks me backward. “You're coming to the office with me.”