The Gryphon Project (12 page)

“Right.”

“I mean it about the drink. People will put all kinds of stuff in it if you’re not watching. Roofies, Special K. You name it.”

“Got it.” Phoenix gave him a double thumbs-up.

“Good.” He turned away, dismissing her.

With that, Phoenix was on her own. She slid between writhing bodies to a spot between the speakers. There wasn’t even a second of awkwardness, she just started moving.

HOW MUCH TIME
went by, she had no idea. There was no break between songs, nor were there any songs, really. Just a trance-
like soundtrack, created by drum and bass and light, bodies in motion. And then Tariq was beside her, off in his own world, eyes shut, dancing as if he was born to it. It so surprised Phoenix that she actually stopped for a moment. He must have sensed her staring, because he opened his eyes and, without missing a beat, handed her a bottle of water.

“Thought I’d check on you.”

“I’m brilliant! This is amazing!” She took a sip, and then a gulp, not having realized how thirsty she was until that very moment. He said something, but she couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I said …” Tariq took the bottle and leaned in so close that she could feel his breath on her ear. She shivered at the sensation, her arms rippling with goose bumps. “You suit this place.”

And all of a sudden, despite the shivers, she was even hotter than she had been. She could feel her cheeks flare with red as Tariq took a swig of water. The music slowed, shifting into something Phee recognized. Under the bass crept an adagio her father played on the piano, but now it stretched into something massive. What would Oscar think of this place? She wanted to tell her father all about it. She wanted to bring him here, show him. How the music was prayer and exaltation at the same time. How the closest thing she could compare it to was
religion
. God himself. In shadowy rebel form, here among the shadows and secrets in long-forgotten alleyways. And it was clearly transformative, because here was Tariq, not only paying attention to her but
talking
to her.

“What?” she yelled again, realizing he was saying something else.

“I said you’re a great dancer.”

When she actually registered what he’d said, she managed a garbled thanks, and then immediately felt as if she’d accumulated a collection of unruly limbs. And on top of that, she had to go to the bathroom. She didn’t want to ask Tariq where it was, though, so she told him she’d be right back and made her way toward the bar.

The others were gone. She scanned the crowd in the intermittent slices of light but didn’t see the boys or Nadia. She headed for a glowing exit sign, figuring the bathrooms might be in that general direction. She was right, judging by the long line of girls formed outside a rusty door. She was of half a mind to go outside and pee in the alley, but not in a two-per zone, not at night, and not with thousands of inebriated partiers around.

It felt like forever before she was next in line. She glanced back at the mass of writhing bodies. Would Tariq still be dancing? Behind the rusty door was a small reeking bathroom with three doorless stalls. The third toilet was overflowing, the floor a slick puddle of putrid water. Hovering above a filthy seat, she peed as best as she could manage and then washed her hands, or rinsed them under the cold water. There was no soap, and nowhere to dry her hands, so she flapped them as she headed back out, only to find Nadia ten people behind the front of the line, Saul beside her, keeping her company.

“Hey!” Phee grabbed her in a hug. “Isn’t this amazing?”

“As in amazingly crowded, noisy as hell, and stinking of sweat and booze and smoke? And I don’t care what the guys say, I swear that I can still smell fish.”

“The music!”

Nadia shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Phee gripped her best friend’s shoulders and gave her a little shake. “This is way,
way
beyond okay! It’s miraculous. Can’t you feel it? Really feel it? Like in your soul?”

“Whatever.” Nadia pulled away. “Maybe I’d be enjoying myself a little more if I could go pee. Like, right now. And if you hadn’t abandoned me.”

“I didn’t! I told you I was going dancing.”

“That was three hours ago, Phoenix.”

“Really? Three hours?”

“Really. I’ve been stuck with Clea the whole time. We’re making an art out of snubbing each other.”

PHOENIX HUNG OUT
with Nadia in the lineup, even though she really wanted to go back to the dance floor and Tariq. Saul stuck around for a few minutes, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other slung protectively around Nadia’s bare shoulders. He would not look at Phee, and no matter how she tried to get him to talk to her, he would only nod, or shrug, and even then only when Nadia pushed for a response. The line moved slowly. Saul grew visibly impatient, looking around, not even pretending to listen to Nadia as she prattled on about Clea.

“She cannot dance,” Nadia said. “You should’ve seen her. All swishy hips and finger snaps. Lame. Right, Saul?”

He shrugged, eyes searching the crowd.

“You’re not even listening.” Nadia twisted out from under his arm.

“You’re right. I’m not. Sorry.” Saul gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to go find Gryphon. You okay here with Phee?”

Nadia pouted. “I guess.”

“You’ll stay with her?” Finally, he looked right at Phoenix. “Until I get back?”

Phoenix could only nod. She wanted to ask him so many questions but knew he’d brush her off. The only reason he was even deigning to look at her was to make sure she wouldn’t leave Nadia alone in such a big crowd. Now was not the time.

THEY FOUND THE BOYS
—Tariq included—and Clea at the far end of the warehouse, sitting on a banquette. Clea was wedged between Saul and Gryphon, laughing, one hand on Gryph’s knee, the other reaching for her drink. Phoenix watched Nadia home in on Clea’s thigh, which was pressed up against Saul’s. He wasn’t even talking to her, or even leaning in her direction. He had his head bent toward Tariq, his hands describing whatever he was talking about.

“Saul!” Nadia assumed her pissed-off position: arms folded, hip jutted out, chin cocked.

“Hey, baby.” He looked up and grinned. Why could Phoenix see that he was totally infatuated with her, and yet Nadia was so quick to doubt? He climbed over Tariq and Neko, toppled an empty beer bottle and a candle, and, once standing, pulled Nadia to him in a warm embrace. Phee smiled. That should calm her best friend a little. Nadia looked so perfect in his arms, and he took such delight in her. Seeing them in their familiar embrace, Nadia with her back against his torso, her head leaned against his chest, his muscular arms embracing her sparrow-like form, she resolved once again not to tell Nadia about Saul’s secret. Especially when he so plainly wanted to forget that he’d ever told Phoenix about it in the first place. She would forget about it too. Or try to.

WITHOUT BEING ASKED
, Tariq and Neko got up to make room. At first, Saul gently ushered Nadia in front of him, but that would’ve meant she’d end up beside Clea. She pulled him aside and ushered Neko and Tariq back in first. They slid along the banquette, and then she slid in too. There was only space for one more, and Saul—always the gentleman—gestured for Phoenix to take it.

“I’m going to go dance some more.” She surveyed the group, cozily squished against each other on the plush red seat. She winked at Nadia. “You okay, hon?”

Nadia nodded. With a glance at Clea, she pulled Saul’s arm across her shoulders and snuggled in.

Phoenix wove her way back onto the dance floor. She closed her eyes and let the music fill her veins until she felt as if her heartbeat and the bass were one and the same. When the beat shifted, and she had to find her rhythm again, she opened her eyes and there was Tariq, watching her, a small smile on his lips. Arms folded, he wasn’t dancing, just staring. With an embarrassed gasp, Phee spun away so he couldn’t see her face, but he grabbed her arm and turned her back to him.

“Where’re you going?”

“Nowhere.” Phee was breathless from the dancing. She could feel the pulse at her wrist throbbing under his grip, pulsing against his palm. “Why?”

Tariq let go of her hand to gesture behind him. “Time to go.”

“You came to get me?” Phee hollered over the music as it kicked back into a drum and bass frenzy.

“What?”

“You didn’t come to dance?”

He shook his head, not in reply to her question, but to indicate that he couldn’t hear her. He took her wrist again and led her out of the crowd to where the others were standing around, bleary-eyed and wan-looking, all of them.

“What time is it?” Phee asked as they collected their jackets.

Her question was answered when Gryph pushed open the heavy doors to the alley, and the pale wash of early morning met them with a damp, chilly embrace. And fish stench, of course. Within moments, Phee was freezing, the sweat she’d worked up dancing turning cold. She shivered. Tariq took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. Phee had to stop in her tracks, she was so blown over by his gesture. Clea and Nadia were wearing Gryph’s and Saul’s jackets too. It was a boyfriend sort of thing to do. She finally found her voice amid all her excitement.

“Th-tha-thanks, Tariq.”

Tariq shrugged. “No problem.” He walked beside her, and they made their way to a squat little diner near the station. A neon sign buzzed atop the roof: “The Balmoral.” Phee had to laugh, though, because the
B
and the first
l
were burnt out, so the sign read “The amoral.” The a moral. How appropriate.

It was packed with ravers crammed into the little booths and taking up every stool at the counter. Only one waitress was working, along with the line cook, and the two of them looked dismayed as Phee’s group made their way in. It was a funny sight, all the colourful costumes of the ravers, against the tired mint green and dull chrome of the wilted diner. Gryph waved to a guy
wearing devil horns and a red fun-fur hoody at the back booth, and soon he and his friends settled their bill and vacated so that Gryph and the others could sit. Gryph never waited long for anything, or so it seemed. Phee wondered if that would change if he kept on coming in second. Or third. Or worse.

The waitress was older than Phee and Gryph’s grandmother, and took their orders for hot chocolate and breakfast specials all around. As they waited for their food, the girls started to yawn— even Clea looked a little drained—and soon Nadia was asleep, her head resting on Saul’s shoulder. Their food came, but Nadia continued to sleep.

“You have hers.” Saul slid the plate across to Neko. “You’re the scrawny one.”

When everyone was done, Gryph paid for them all while Saul roused Nadia enough to get her walking, and they were on their way back into the morning, which was at least a little brighter and warmer now.

“I’ll see Nadia and Phee home,” Saul said when they arrived at the train station. By now, Phoenix was yawning too, and feeling the stretch and ache in her muscles from having danced all night long. Even sleepy, she hoped Tariq might offer to come along, but he didn’t, and soon Saul and the girls were getting on one train, and the others were getting on another.

“Where’s everyone else going?” Phee asked through a yawn. “Neko should go home too.”

“They’re taking Clea home, and then we’re staying at Huy’s,” Saul said. “His parents are away.”

“Oh.” Phee yawned again.

The three made their way to Nadia’s house, where Nadia stood on her front walk, half asleep and leaning against Saul.

“I’m going in,” she said thickly. “I’m exhausted.” Saul helped her up the steps but didn’t go inside. Nadia’s parents weren’t fond of him to begin with, and certainly didn’t want to find him in their house at this early hour. “Phee?”

“Yeah—”

Saul grabbed her arm. Phee gave him a curious look but told Nadia to go on ahead without her.

“You have to be tiptoe quiet,” Nadia said through a yawn. “You wake my parents and I’ll kill you.”

When Nadia closed the door gently behind her, Saul turned on Phee. He grabbed her shoulders hard. “Have you told her?”

“No!”

“Then why is she acting all weird lately?”

“Saul, I haven’t told anyone.” She could see the worry in his eyes. “Not a soul. I swear. Nadia’s not acting any more weird than normal.”

He let go and sighed. “You better not have said anything.”

“I haven’t.”

“You have to promise.”

“I already did!” Phee brought her voice back down to a whisper. “I won’t tell. Honest. So there’s no point in avoiding me. Acting like a jerk doesn’t make any difference. It’d be nice to have the old Saul back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“Well, I am. Okay? Are we good?”

“Sure.”

“Good …” Saul paused. “Because I didn’t exactly tell you everything.”

“No. No way, Saul. Don’t tell me anything more. I don’t want to know.”

He told her anyway, oblivious to her protests. “I already used my one recon.”

Phee was suddenly wide awake. She straightened. “What?” She leaned in, not wanting him to have to speak above a whisper. “What did you just say?”

“Remember when I went back east to visit my grandparents? When Gryph and I were in Grade 8?”

Phee nodded. Her gut churned. She wished he would stop talking, but at the same time she was compelled to know more.

“My grandpa didn’t die. He’s still alive.”

“
You
died.”

Saul nodded.

Phee sat down on the steps, stunned. He was done. He didn’t have a recon left! Her head swam with all the implications. Saul sat beside her and whispered in her ear. “You can’t tell anyone. Especially not Nadia. Okay?”

“Of course not.” Phee covered her face with her hands and nodded. “I won’t.”

Behind them, the door opened and Nadia reappeared. “Aren’t you going to meet up with the guys?”

Saul leaped to his feet. “I am.”

Nadia glowered at him. “Then you better get going.”

She let him kiss her but didn’t return it. Instead, she fixed Phee with a nasty glare, and when he’d gone down the steps, she shut the door in Phee’s face. Phee knocked as lightly as she could. The door swung open again.