Trust Read online

  I’m scared.

  We run inside and up the stairs. There is nobody in the corridor or in the hallways, which I don’t like. I wish there was somebody... anybody...

  We finally get to Cam’s dorm and I don’t knock. I just open the door and fall over.

  Oh, my gosh.

  Ezra is freaking heavy.

  With my face in the carpet, I breathe heavily, just trying to get my breaths under control.

  I made it.

  I’m safe.

  “Zara?”

  I lift my face up slightly and see Cam looking at me. He looks... confused. And maybe a little relieved, but not as relieved as I thought he would be.

  “Sorry, I just carried him here,” I say, still breathing hard. “He is heavier than he looks.”

  “What are you doing here?” Cam asks. “You aren’t supposed to be back until Thursday.”

  “Thursday?” I ask. “What are you talking about? Cam, I was kidnapped by these guys...”

  “No, you don’t understand,” he says, shaking his head. “You signed up for it. For torture training. You were supposed to be gone until Thursday.”

  “Wait,” I say, then look at Ezra. His face is still black and purple. But now that I’m looking at him, I can see...

  I lick my finger and rub at his face.

  “It’s makeup,” I say.

  Makeup.

  Ezra has the audacity to shrug his shoulders. “Sorry. It was part of your training.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  This was part of my training?

  This is what torture training is?

  I thought I would be the one being tortured—not somebody else. And I definitely didn’t think the torture would be fake.

  “How did you even get away?” Cam asks.

  “She’s good,” Ezra says.

  “I know she’s good,” Cam says. “But nobody has ever escaped before.”

  “Is it bad that I did?” I ask, suddenly worried about my grade.

  Did I pass torture training?

  “I went along with her because I didn’t know what else to do,” Ezra says.

  I look at Cam, about ready to cry.

  Of course, I screwed it up.

  I screw up everything.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Cam says to me, pulling me in for a hug. He squeezes me so tightly that I can barely breathe, and I squeeze him back just as tightly. “I don’t even care if you don’t pass torture training, you are not going through that again, do you hear me?”

  I nod. “I don’t want to do that again. That was awful.”

  “I am going to call the guys, then I’m going to call your dad,” Cam says. “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do.”

  And I am?

  “Did I mess up bad?” I ask.

  “Nah, I just think they underestimated you,” he says, pulling his phone out. “I think they expected you to fail.”

  “You should’ve seen her, man,” Ezra says. “Even I believed the lie she was telling. Like, wow. Zara, are you sure you don’t want to join my team?”

  “I’m certain,” I say, not taking my eyes off Cam.

  It’s so good to see him.

  “Yo, Zara is back. Have everybody meet in my room,” Cam says, then ends the call, not giving whoever is on the other end a chance to speak. But that is just how Cam is—direct and to the point.

  “I think you’d fit in well with my team,” Ezra says, still trying to convince me.

  “She’s not leaving my team,” Cam says.

  “I’m not,” I say.

  Nothing in the world could ever make me give up my guys.

  Cam puts his phone to his ear, and I know that he’s calling my dad.

  Over the past few days, I have been worried about Zach and my team—I thought that what happened was real... I imagined that they were frantically looking for me. Now I know that’s not the case, but I can tell from the look on Cam’s face that it didn’t stop him from worrying. I imagine all of the guys have been worried.

  They have all been through torture training. They know how bad it can be. And they couldn’t do anything.

  Part of me wishes I hadn’t defied Cam’s order to not sign up for torture training. I should have trusted him—I should have trusted all of them. They said I couldn’t handle it and they were right. I couldn’t. Even if I didn’t pass torture training, there is no way I am going to sign up for that, again.

  “Zara is back,” Cam says to his phone. “She’s in my dorm.” He pauses. “Okay.” Another pause. “Yes, Sir.”

  He ends the call and looks at me.

  “Your dad is on the way here,” he says.

  Which I expected.

  Before I can respond to him, the door to Cam’s dorm bursts open and four very worried guys come inside.

  Stephan, Tristan, Austin and Dylan all look completely traumatized when they see me standing there. But they don’t say anything. The four of them just surround me, giving me hugs. Looking to make sure that I am okay. And I just revel in the moment.

  I never, ever want to be separated from these guys again. That was the worst part of it all.

  “What happened?” Austin asks, but I look up and see that he’s talking to Cam.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Cam says.

  Everybody turns to me. “Should we wait for Zach? ’Cause I don’t want to have to explain this twenty-times.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Stefan says.

  The relief I feel, to have all five of the guys in one room, is immense. Part of me was worried I would never see them again.

  Everything really is going to be okay, now.

  No more secrets.

  I am sitting in Ms. Schmidt’s office with Zach, Cam, Austin, Tristan, Dylan, Stefan and the guy I now know runs Spy School, Mr. Sinclair. They’ve already spoke with Ezra and got his full side of the details of what happened, and now it’s my turn.

  So, I tell them everything, not leaving out any detail, from the time somebody kidnapped me from my room, until I walked into Cam’s dorm room.

  When I’m finished, Zach looks proud. The guys look... upset. Which makes me think maybe I should’ve had them sit outside for the entire story. Ms. Schmidt looks angry. And Mr. Sinclair has no expression. His face is completely neutral, though I get the feeling this guy has a good poker face.

  “In the forty-five years I’ve been here, and the twenty years I’ve been running this school, this has never happened before,” Mr. Sinclair says.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I say. “I didn’t realize it was part of my training. If I had known, I wouldn’t have tried to escape.”

  “The point of torture training is for the student not to know,” he says. “Nobody expected you to be able to escape. Many students have tried in the past, but none have succeeded. And for you to not only get yourself out, but an injured ally... it says a lot for your character.”

  “Maybe I’m just lucky,” I say.

  “That is more than luck, Miss Summers,” Mr. Sinclair says. “Not only did you stop your mock teammate from being tortured beyond what he was, but you had them believing a lie. The guys torturing you said that if they hadn’t known the truth about the fake case we gave you; they would’ve believed you were telling the truth. They said when they left the room, they were checking to see if maybe your file was different than the file they were given.”

  My mouth falls open.

  I hadn’t realized my acting was so convincing.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No,” Mr. Sinclair says.

  “Did I pass?” I ask.

  Ms. Schmidt looks at Mr. Sinclair.

  “What do you think?” he asks the principal.

  “On one hand, she didn’t actually finish the training program,” Ms. Schmidt answers. “Who knows what would’ve happened when it really came down to it. But... she also showed great leadership in there, and she was able to do something no other student has ever done before.
I am torn. The call is yours to make.”

  Mr. Sinclair looks at me. “Ezra said how strong you were in there.”

  “I wasn’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I was scared to death in there.”

  “We’re all scared,” he says, then nods. “Ms. Summers, you are one lucky girl. Congratulations on passing torture training.”

  “I passed?” I ask.

  Certain I heard him wrong.

  “You passed,” he says.

  I passed.

  Which means... there will be no more secrets between me and my team. Between me and Zach.

  Honestly, I’m not sure how I passed. But I am not going to question this gift.

  If I had stayed... if the guys were really going to continue and follow through on their promise of cutting off Ezra’s finger... even if only pretend... I would’ve told them the truth. There is no way I would’ve made him suffer. So, escaping... that was the only shot I had. And I’m glad I did it.

  Torture training is literally the worst thing I’ve ever gone through in my life, and I hope never to be in that situation again.

  “Let’s get you home,” Zach says to me. “I think you’ve been through enough this week.”

  I nod in agreement. “Can the guys come too?”

  Zach looks from me to the guys and sighed. “I guess so.”

  It must be hard to be the parent of a teenage girl.

  Zach likes my team. And he knows that they’re the best fit for me. But he always is aware of the fact that this whole thing might end in disaster. Someday, in the not so near future, one of the guys is going to get a girlfriend. Or a wife. And his wife isn’t going to like him spending so much time with me. And everything is going to crumble and fall apart.

  The guys say that they won’t date somebody who is jealous of me, but that can’t last forever. Someday, they’ll meet a girl who will trumps everything. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. I just dread that day. I really, really dread it.

  Try again.

  When we get back to the house, Zach orders a bunch of pizzas for us. All I’ve had to eat all week is bread and water, so I am starving.

  Everybody already heard the story back in Ms. Schmidt’s office, so nobody is bringing up my torture training, and for that I am so thankful. But I do have questions. Since Tristan is sitting beside me, I decide to ask him.

  The rest of the guys are helping Zach with something—I’m too tired to care about what they’re helping with.

  “Why did they choose Ezra to go with me?” I ask. “I mean, wouldn’t it have made sense to bring one of you guys?”

  “None of us could have pretended,” Tristan says. “Not with you. If any of us had seen how upset you were, we would’ve told you it was part of your training. And they couldn’t have that.”

  “But why Ezra?” I ask. “I only met him one time.”

  “He was actually planted in your class,” he answers. “You won’t see him in your human behavior class anymore.”

  Ah, that makes so much more sense.

  The first time I met Ezra, he kept trying to start all these conversations with me, not taking the hint that I really didn’t want to talk to him. Though, I feel like I know him better now. I don’t want to be on his team, not by a long shot, but I am glad that we’re friends now.

  Eh, maybe ‘friends’ is a stretch. More like an ally. I would call him if I ever needed help outside of my team.

  Ms. Schmidt told me my first week here that allies are important. Keeping that in mind, maybe I could try harder to make friends.

  “I was so worried about you,” he says. “We all were.”

  “I was worried about you guys, too,” I say, chewing on the corner of my lip. “I imagined you guys freaking out about me being gone. I honestly thought you guys were looking for me. I never gave up hope.”

  “I’m proud of you,” he says. “For finding a way out of there. That was incredible. I tried to escape my torture training—I thought it was real, too. It was sophomore year. I was only fifteen and I was freaking out, thinking I’d never see my teammates again or my parents.”

  “Who did they put you in with?” I ask.

  “Camden,” he answers.

  “Really?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. Cam pretended to be tortured and beat,” Tristan says. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to watch.”

  “You know, I thought torture training was going to be them torturing me,” I say.

  “I did, too,” he says.

  “I’m glad it’s over,” I say.

  “Me, too. I never want to be apart from you again.”

  Tristan puts his arm around me and I lean over on his shoulder.

  What would I do without him? Without all of them?

  I don’t want to ever find out.

  “I missed you a lot,” I tell him.

  “I missed you, too,” he says.

  “I did learn something during all this.”

  “What’s that?” he asks.

  “Next time you guys tell me not to do something, I’m not going to do it,” I say.

  He kissed the top of my head. It’s such a small gesture, but it warms my heart. I snuggle closer to him, just reveling in being around him.

  “It’s over now,” he says. “And now we will never have to keep secrets from you again.”

  I’m still not sure if it was worth it, but I am glad it’s over.

  As I’m snuggling with Tristan, I am thinking about the almost-date we had. All of the guys ended up coming. It was a good night. But I still want that date. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m even thinking of that right now. I just got done with torture training for goodness sake. But I am thinking about it.

  I debate if I should ask him about it.

  How do I subtly bring it up?

  I mean, he did say he wanted to date me.

  But he also said it wasn’t safe for it to be just us two.

  “What are you thinking about?” Tristan asks, breaking the silence.

  “About Friday,” I answer, pulling back so I can look at him.

  “Friday?” he asks.

  “We were supposed to go on a date last Friday night,” I say. “Before you canceled.”

  “I didn’t want to cancel,” he says.

  “I know,” I say. “What if we tried again?”

  “You really want to?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “What about Dylan?”

  He’s referring to the fact that Dylan also asked me out. I told him yes, too.

  I know! Two boys! It’s so complicated!

  Maybe I shouldn’t date any of them until I know which one I want to date. Because, if I am honest with myself, I know that I have developed feelings for more than just Tristan and Dylan. But I won’t allow myself to think of that right now.

  “Maybe we should all hang out more,” I say. “I feel like since Tokyo, I hardly see all of you guys. I just get babysat by whoever has the least to do that day.”

  “I know,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. His hands linger on my shoulders. “But it’s only going to be this way for a little longer—just while we’re in school. After all this, you’ll be with us so much that you’ll get sick of us.”

  “Never,” I say. “I could never get sick of you. Honestly, you’ll probably get sick of me.”

  “Not gonna happen, Zara,” Tristan says.

  But we will see.

  Beautiful mess.

  I am hungrier than I thought, because I ended up eating half a pizza, which is unlike me. The rest of the guys... I swear they have a bottomless pit in their stomachs. They each eat a whole pizza, and Zach eats the other half of mine.

  “We’ve got to start eating healthier,” Zach says.

  “I’m sure it’ll be easier when there aren’t five garbage disposals to feed,” I joke.

  He laughs.

  “I’m a growing boy,” Dylan says, with a mouth full of food.

  My brother Jaso
n never ate like this. I mean, he’d have his occasional cheat day when he’d eat junk food, but most of the time he’d be drinking protein smoothies and other meals that his trainer planned for him. He was always on a super strict diet, so I’m not sure what’s ‘normal’ for teenaged boys.

  “Someday that will all catch up with you,” Zach says to the guys.

  But they don’t seem at all bothered by that fact.

  Gosh, I missed these guys so much.

  Zach turns to me. “How are you feeling?”

  I shrug. “I’m okay. Drained. That was... rough.”

  “I think you surprised everybody,” he says. “Even me.”

  “You didn’t think I’d pass?” I ask.

  “I was unsure,” he answers. “I knew if anybody was strong enough to pass, it’s you. But I didn’t expect you to escape.”

  “I don’t think the guys in charge of the training thought so, either,” I say. “I think they underestimated me. I mean, I don’t blame them. I’m small and don’t look like a threat.”

  “That is exactly why you are going to make a great agent,” he says. “You’re small like your mom.”

  “My mom isn’t small,” I say. “She’s all... curvy, you know? And beautiful.”

  Even when I see her in movies from when she was my age, she still had curves in all the right places. She’s always told me that she’s envious of my body type—that she has to work to stay thin but that it comes naturally for me. But I just look... like a twelve-year-old boy.

  “You are beautiful,” Zach says. “You look a lot like her.”

  “I look like you, too,” I say.

  He grins. “Yeah. You do.”

  “You know, my dad... um, Jack Summers...” I clear my throat, feeling a little awkward. How do I talk to my dad about my dad?

  “He’s your dad, too,” Zach says. “Don’t feel awkward about it.”

  I nod. “I always wondered why I wasn’t like him. He’s all... athletic. Like Jason. And my mom is charismatic. She loves the spotlight and the attention. She thrives on it. I never fit in.”

  “Your mom does like attention,” he says.