Loyal Page 6

  “There’s a ladder,” I say.

  He laughs. “I know. I just wanted to see if you trust me.”

  “I kind of hate you right now.”

  “Zara, just start climbing.”

  I climb up, Cam right below me.

  “You’d better not be bringing me up here so you can try to make out with me,” I yell down at him.

  “You would like it if I did,” he says.

  I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see. Honestly, he's probably right, but I'm not going to let him know that.

  Finally, we make it to the top and climb onto the roof. There are guards around, but none of them even look our way. I guess because we aren’t a threat. But I still wonder why we don’t get in trouble for coming up here.

  I go to stand up, and a hand reaches out to help me up. That’s when I see Austin standing there, along with Tristan, Stefan, and Dylan. I can’t help but smile when I see them all there.

  “What are you guys doing?” I ask, standing up.

  Cam climbs up, standing beside me.

  “We need to talk to you,” Tristan says, crossing his arms. He doesn’t look mad, but I know that whatever they’re about to say is going to be serious. “And we didn’t want to have this conversation in the dining hall or where other people could hear.”

  “Okay,” I say. “What is it?”

  “Maybe we should sit down,” Austin says.

  All six of us sit down on the flat roof, making a circle. All of the guys are looking at me and it makes me nervous.

  “Why didn’t you tell us that you were scared of tight spaces?” Cam asks.

  I look down at my hands when he finishes the question. I’m not sure why, but I can’t look at them.

  “I couldn’t,” I say. “Because—”

  “Look at us when you’re answering,” Cam says.

  I look up. At Stefan first. He’s the nicest and the only one I am brave enough to look at. Eventually, I look at the rest of the guys. Dylan, Austin, Cam. I wait until last to look at Tristan because he is the one who was in the vent with me. He saw me freak out and had to talk me through my panic attack.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I knew that if I told you guys, you wouldn’t let me go.”

  “You’re right. We wouldn’t have,” Dylan says.

  “But I needed to know,” I say. “And I was the only one who could’ve fit,” I say.

  “We would have found out some other way,” Austin says.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it sucks that you guys have Saturday detention because of me.”

  “That’s not why we’re upset,” Tristan says. “We’re upset because we went in there, as a team, and you weren’t completely honest with us. If you are going to be a part of this team, you have to start being honest with us.”

  “I know,” I say. “And I’m sorry.”

  “You know that we’re going to have to work on your fear of small spaces,” Cam says. “And trust me, it’s better you do it with us than for the school to find out. They won’t be as merciful about it.”

  I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “Fear isn’t acceptable,” Stefan says, and then shakes his head. “No, that’s not true. Fear can be a great motivator. But a lot of fear isn’t acceptable. Fear that limits us or fear that other people can use against us isn’t acceptable.”

  “How am I going to get over my claustrophobia?” I ask.

  “By spending a little time every single day in a small space,” Dylan answers.

  I shake my head. “No. No way.”

  “One of us will be with you,” Cam says. “We will start out small. One minute. Then the next day, two minutes. We will keep doing this until you’re not scared anymore.”

  “And you guys will be with me?” I ask.

  “Every single time.”

  “Okay,” I say, nodding. I look at each of the guys. “I can do that.”

  Of course I say that now. When it comes down to it, I’m sure I’ll be freaking out. But as long as they’re going to be there, I’ll be okay.

  Right?

  Thursday, September 13

  Help.

  “I need your help,” I tell Tristan when I sit down beside him in the dining hall at breakfast. The other guys aren’t there yet.

  Tristan is always early for everything. It’s something I have noticed about him in my short time here. He is never late. I like that about him, because I hate whenever people are late.

  “With what?” he asks, eying me warily, like he’s scared of what my answer might be. To be fair, I’d be frightened if I were him, too.

  “I called my mom yesterday,” I say. “And she lied to me. She said she didn’t know Zach Stone, but I could tell there was something she wasn’t telling me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  I wave a hand at him. “I expected it. Which is annoying. I have seen her lie to reporters enough times that I know when she’s lying. She thinks she’s good at it, but she’s not. Not to me.”

  “Still, it sucks being lied to by your mom,” he says.

  I nod. “It does. And I can’t call my dad and ask him, because if my mom really did have an affair with Zach Stone...”

  “Then it would hurt him,” Tristan says. “I get it.”

  “But there is one other party involved I can talk to. One that has answers,” I say, smiling at him.

  “Zach,” he says.

  “Correct. I just have no idea how to contact him.”

  “It’s not like I have his number, Zara,” he says.

  “I know, but you’re really good at hacking,” I say. “You walked me through hacking the computer at school. And I see you in our computer hacking class. You finish the assignments in about two seconds while it takes everybody else the whole hour to figure it out.”

  His face turns red. “You noticed that?”

  “Yeah,” I say, hoping he doesn’t think I’m awkward for watching. It’s not just him, I kind of notice everything. I can’t just focus on one thing at a time. It’s like my brain always has to be processing multiple things at a time, always.

  “Okay,” he says. “I will get a contact number for you before tonight.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “You are the best.”

  “How did you know to come to the dining hall before everybody else to talk to me?” Tristan asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I pay attention to everything.”

  “You belong here,” he says. “At Spy School. The more time I spend with you, the more I realize it. It’s almost like you’ve spent your whole life training to be here.”

  “Except for the fact that I can’t do a pushup.”

  He laughs. “So what? You need upper body strength. Isn’t Dylan working on that with you?”

  “Yeah,” I answers. “Hopefully next time they do midnight drills I’ll be able to do at least a few.”

  “They usually happen once a week,” he says. “Sometimes twice.”

  “Once a week?” I ask. “You mean they randomly wake us up at midnight that often?”

  “You get used to it,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

  “They’re crazy.”

  I notice more people start to come into the dining hall.

  “I’m going to go grab some breakfast,” I tell him, wanting to get my food before the line gets too long.

  As I am grabbing my food, I think about what Tristan said—about me belonging here. And I think he’s right. I do belong here. Because even though most of the students either hate me or distrust me, I have never felt happier or more alive than I do here. I actually kind of like the fact that people aren’t trying to suck up to me because of who my parents are. I love that not one person has asked me for tickets to my brother’s baseball game, and that nobody has asked for my mom’s autograph. It’s... nice. Freeing.

  After I grab my food, I’m in front of Tristan again. I spot Dylan and Austin walking into the dining hall, but they go to grab food first.

&nb
sp; “You’re right,” I tell Tristan.

  “About what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “I do belong here,” I say.

  He smile. “I know.”

  “It’s like I was born to be here.”

  “You are meant to be here with us,” Tristan says.

  I feel the same way.

  As if I was always meant be friends with the guys. I came in here and just clicked with them from day one. I love it.

  “Well, Cam hated me at first,” I say.

  “Nah,” Tristan says. “He liked you. He just didn’t like that he liked you.”

  “You know that makes no sense.”

  “Have you met the guy? Cam makes no sense.”

  “True.”

  A tray goes down on each side of me, and I look to see Dylan on one side and Austin on the other.

  “Hey, Zara,” Austin says.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Now that Zara is here, I get ignored?” Tristan asks.

  “She’s cuter. She gets greeted first,” Dylan says.

  “I guess I see your point,” Tristan says.

  I roll my eyes, but smile. “You guys are completely insane.”

  Alone.

  Before I head towards the training facility for my two hour training session, Tristan comes up to me and slips a piece of paper in my hand, saying nothing. I don’t dare look at it. Not yet.

  “You ready to get training?” Dylan asks.

  “Yeah, I just... need to pee first,” I say.

  “I’ll wait here,” he says.

  I walk inside the girl’s bathroom, checking all the stalls to make sure it’s empty before I look at the paper. I don’t know why. It just seems that since Tristan slipped me this paper privately, I need to keep it a secret.

  I look at the small piece of paper. It has the name ‘Zach Stone’ written on it, along with a phone number. More than anything, I want to call him right now and demand answers, but Dylan is waiting for me. Instead, I put the piece of paper into my pocket and then walk out of the bathroom.

  Together, Dylan and I walk towards the parking lot.

  “How come you get out of accent training?” I ask.

  “I don’t need accent training,” he answers. “It was one of the things my parents trained me on as a kid. We traveled a lot. It’s not like they could pretend to be German while their kid was American, so I learned quickly.”

  “That makes sense,” I say. “Was it lonely to travel a lot?”

  “Nah,” he says. “I had my parents and a tutor, who was basically my babysitter, my cook, and anything else I needed. A lot of my schooling was done on an airplane.”

  “I was homeschooled, too. Until the eighth grade,” I say. “I was thirteen. My brother wanted to go to this private school that had an amazing baseball team. He’s a year and a half older. So, since he was going to be staying home while Mom and Brad went on trips, my mom said I could, too. So I stayed with Jason.”

  “Wait... your parents left you home alone at thirteen?”

  “I wasn’t alone. I had Jason. He was fifteen,” I say. “And we had a maid come by a few times a week, too.”

  “How long did they leave you guys at home alone for?”

  “The most they were ever gone was four months straight,” I answer. “But it wasn’t a big deal. I mean, they weren’t always gone. Just sometimes they’d be in another country to film a movie or whatever.”

  “That’s really sad,” he says.

  I shrug. “After Chloe was born, Mom stayed home a lot more. After the complications she had during her pregnancy, she knew Chloe was going to be her last baby born. I think she wanted to actually enjoy time with her instead of focusing on her career as much. Now she only accepts movies that are filmed in the LA area.”

  “What about your dad?” Dylan asks, pulling up to the huge training facility.

  I still am amazed at how big this place is.

  “He came to every one of Jason’s games,” I say. “And I go to his house as much as I can. I honestly wanted to move in with him, but didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings.”

  “Didn’t you ever get lonely?” he asks.

  “I’m used to being alone,” I say.

  Dylan, still not getting out of the car, stays quiet for a few seconds before responding. He’s looking at me, also, like he feels sorry for me.

  “I’m really sorry, Zara,” he says. “But I promise you will never have to be alone again.”

  His words warm my heart. They were so unexpected, but so sincere.

  Coming to Spy School has changed my life; there is no question about that. But meeting Dylan, meeting all the guys... that is what has changed me the most. How can I ever go back to the way life was before? The truth is I don’t want to.

  Family.

  All I can think about all day is the piece of paper that is in my pocket. Even the guys noticed I was distracted. I was honestly surprised that Tristan didn’t tell them that I asked for Zack Stone’s number. They don’t seem to keep secrets from one another, but I’m glad Tristan kept it a secret. I just need to do this on my own, and if Cam found out, he’d insist on being with me when I called him. I want to do this alone.

  As soon as I get to my dorm that afternoon, I pull out the paper and dial the number on my phone. I feel safe doing it in here. I found out earlier that Taylor has a drama class she has to take on Thursdays for an hour, so I will have the room to myself.

  I look at the number on my phone, double checking it. And then I triple check it. It’s then that I admit to myself that I am just stalling.

  I am scared—scared of talking to Zach Stone. Scared of finding out if my mom really did have an affair with him all those years ago. Scared of finding out she’s cheating on Brad now. But mostly, I’m scared to know why he insisted I be enrolled in this school.

  If it wasn’t for Zach Stone, I wouldn’t be here now.

  “Be brave,” I whisper to myself, taking a deep breath.

  I push the call button, my heart suddenly beating erratically in my chest. I have never been so scared in my life.

  The phone rings once. My heart continues to beat faster and faster, until finally...

  “You’ve reached the voicemail box of, Zach Stone...”

  His voicemail.

  I am disappointed, but maybe this is for the best. I can leave a message.

  “Hey... um... this is Zara... Zara Summers... I’m calling because, well, I’m at Spy School. And I kind of hacked into my file, it’s a long story, but my file says I’m here because of you. And I wanted to know who you are and why you wanted me here. Not that I don’t like it here. I do. I love it here. I’m rambling. Sorry. Just, uh, call me back whenever you can. I’d love to talk to you. Okay. Bye.”

  I end the call, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot. That voice mail was horrible. Why was I so nervous? This guy has answers. Answers that I deserve to know.

  My phone vibrates, causing my heart once again to jump into overdrive.

  It’s just a text.

  I let out a breath

  Tristan: Did you call him?

  Instead of texting him back, I call him.

  He picks up on the first ring.

  “Zara, you okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine,” I say, letting out a nervous breath. “I called him. He didn’t answer, so I left a voicemail. It was kind of a disaster. I was so nervous.”

  “I’m sure it was fine,” he says.

  I bite my lip, unsure of what to say.

  It wasn’t good. Not at all.

  “Can you come to my dorm?” he asks. “I want to do this in person, but I also don’t want to risk running into your roommate.”

  “Try living with her,” I say. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

  He ends the call and I sit there for one second, trying to sift through all my thoughts.

  The first one is—what if Zach Stone doesn’t call me
back? What if I never get the answers I need?

  The second is—what if Zach Stone does call me back? What then? I try to imagine all the answers he could possibly have for me, it’s pointless to even imagine. I’ll just have to wait until I know the truth.

  And my third thought is—I have to tell the rest of the guys what I did. It doesn’t feel right to keep it secret. So, on my way to Tristan’s dorm, I text all of them and tell them that I need to see them in Tristan’s dorm. I tell them it’s important. Because the last thing I want is for me or Tristan to have to lie to them. I just... would feel better if they knew everything.

  I’m the first one at Tristan’s dorm, but I know the rest won’t be far behind.

  “I told the others to come,” I say, the second he opens the doors for me.

  He looks... relieved.

  “Good,” he says. “I hate keeping secrets from them.”

  Yeah, we’re definitely on the same page there.

  I walk inside, taking a seat on his bed. It’s strange how comfortable I am with all of these guys already. It’s like we’ve been friends for years and not just... days.

  Almost as soon as I sit down, the door opens up, and the rest of the guys walk in.

  “What’s going on?” Cam asks.

  Cam—the protector. Of course he thinks there is something wrong.

  “Nothing is wrong,” Tristan says. “We just need to talk to you.”

  “Please tell me you guys aren’t dating,” Dylan says.

  “What?” I ask. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

  “I mean,” Tristan says. “I am an attractive guy.”

  I don’t know why, but I laugh.

  Tristan is attractive.

  Very attractive.

  But the way he says it just makes me laugh.

  “Tristan, please never change,” I say.

  “Then what is this about?” Cam asks, trying to get us to focus on the topic at hand.

  “I asked Tristan to get Zach Stone’s number,” I say.

  Nobody says anything. They just continue to look at me.

  “And I got his number,” Tristan says.

  “And then I called him this afternoon,” I say.