he stated with authority, brushing dark hair out of the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen. “I’ll write the paper. You two will make the display and run the booth. Kei will get in our way.”
“Not fair,” Camille objected.
“It’s not fair but it’s realistic,” Rhys said flatly, handing me the list. The look on his face would brook no discussion.
“Don’t listen to him, I’ll be very helpful,” Kei said, drawing an ‘x’ over his heart.
I became aware in my periphery that we were getting scrutiny from two directions. Mac, glancing over his shoulder, seemed just as unhappy with Kei as Rhys was, and - I swallowed nervously - Hayley was glaring daggers at me. Well, Kei’s arm was still around my shoulders. Were they a couple or weren’t they?
I stood up abruptly. “I’ll, um, get the materials,” I said by way of excuse. I went up to the front of the room. The supply cabinet was next to Ms. Miller’s desk. She glanced at me apologetically as I picked through the bottles of chemicals.
“Sorry,” she murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “This wasn’t my idea.”
“Wha...” Did she mean the project, or the grouping? I turned to ask her what she meant, but Mac had come up on my other side.
“Is he bothering you?” he asked. “If he is, you should ask to switch groups. Ms. Miller, can she switch groups?”
“No one is switching groups,” she told him, but a small smile marred her mostly-serious decree. “Get your stuff, go back to your table, and worry about your own project.”
I carried a tray of vials and chemicals back to our table, careful this time not to spill anything. I was going to be calmer now, I told myself. I was going to be cool and collected. It didn’t work at all.
Kei was thumbing through my mother’s blank journal. “Hmm? This is a boring book,” he said.
“Ah!” I reached for it, but he evaded me, fanning the pages like a flipbook.
“I was hoping for some juicy secrets.” He noticed the name embossed inside the cover. “Who’s Kyra?”
“Um, me,” I said, not sure why I was lying.
“Hm, a nom de plume? You’re not very prolific,” he said, handing the journal back. “You might want to work on that.”
“Yes,” I agreed. Anything to return it safe to my bag. I reached for it again, and again he snatched it back.
“Unless...” he mused, picking up one of the vials Camille had mixed.
“Hey!” Camille snapped.
“Kei, please,” I said, “It’s just a blank journal I got.”
“People only defend what’s valuable to them,” he stated, pouring the liquid over the exposed pages. I looked in despair at my mother’s soggy journal. Had he ruined it?
The page color began to change, as if dark ink were bleeding across the paper. For just a second, I thought I saw something. Then the black vanished as the paper dried, back to blank once more.
Kei shrugged. “I guess you were right,” he said, setting the journal in front of me. “Oh well. Hey, I’m hungry. Rhys, have you got any snacks?”
“Do I ever have snacks?” Rhys grumbled.
“Hope never dies,” Kei said. “C’est la vie.” He wandered to the door.
“Class is still in session,” Ms. Miller reprimanded him.
“Snacks,” he shrugged. “I might come back.”
Ms. Miller sat back in her seat, clearly frustrated with him. Mac was looking after him suspiciously.
I slumped back in my seat, depressed at the state of my mother’s journal. The curled pages were tinged with chemical stains. It was ruined. Why would he treat my things so carelessly? Did he think that little of me?
“Oh, calm down,” Rhys said, with a disdainful glance. “He’s only doing it because he’s bored. It has nothing to do with you.”
My heart clenched up. “O-oh...” I said, pretending to resume working on the equation, but I felt numb. His words were like a slap in the face. Even if it was true, it was a cruel thing to say.
Camille spared a glare at Rhys, laid down her pen and pushed out of her chair. She stalked out of the classroom as well.
“Camille...” Ms. Miller warned.
“Bathroom,” she replied tersely, the door clicking loud behind her.
This was just going badly all around. I would at least finish the experiment.
I reached for another vial that Camille had prepared, but my eye caught on the list of instructions. Ammonia. It called for a cotton ball soaked in ammonia to turn the ink visible. I hadn’t smelled anything that strong when Kei had doused the journal. I picked up and sniffed the empty vial, and smelled nothing. I took another from the rack Camille had made - the bitter aroma was strong. Had Kei used the wrong vial?
I glanced at Rhys, but he was preoccupied reading a book. Well, what did I have to lose? I took a cotton ball and dipped it in the ammonia. I opened the journal to a page that was mostly dry, and swiped a corner. Blue-black ink bloomed to life, curling designs across the page. My heart beat fast, and I closed the journal quickly, before anyone else could see.
This was just for me.
Camille
Camille strode down the hallway. Sakamoto was standing in front of another lab door, inspecting the lock. He glanced at her approach and returned his attention to the windowless barrier. “It’s a perfect seal,” he said, running a finger along the door jamb. “Couldn’t squeeze a molecule in there without the ice queen’s permission. What do you think she’s got locked in there?”
She didn’t care about any of his momentary obsessions. “Leave Jul alone,” Camille said. “She hasn’t done anything.”
He whistled. “That was almost a speech, coming from you. Your angst is misplaced, though. I mean no harm, I come in peace,” he said, raising his hands innocently. A tiny smile played on his lips. “I like Jul, I really do. She blushes easily. I like everyone, really. Some people are just more interesting than others. You, for example. Why do you care? She’s a complete stranger to you.”
He noticed, and took interest. “I saw what you did to Hyde the other day,” Sakamoto said.
“You weren’t there.”
“I saw. Poor bastard. Is that your idea of conflict resolution?”
“Yes,” she said simply. What did he mean, he saw? He hadn’t been in the dojo, she was certain of it.
“Dear me,” he said with perfect calm. “That’s too bad. I’m not allowed to fight, you know. I really, really wanted to, but Ikeda just won’t teach me. Said I’m all wrong,” he smiled. “Whatever that means.”
He was being vague on purpose. Camille frowned. “You’re warned,” she said, turning to walk back to the classroom.
“You may have to warn me again,” he called after her.
When she got back to the classroom, Jul was already finishing the experiment. The journal, she’d put away. That was disrespectful, what Sakamoto had done. She bent over her own worksheet and scrawled out a cartoon image of Sakamoto saying ‘I’m an ass,’ and passed it to Jul.
Jul covered a short laugh. “Thanks,” she said, and returned to finishing an equation with a smile.
Kei Sakamoto was the least of her problems. She had remedial English with Tailor at the public library later that day, after school. Gabriel dropped her off in the parking lot. She looked out of the windshield at the giant three-story building. It vaguely reminded her of a European-style castle.
“I’m going to get lost in there,” she complained.
“Oh, Tailor won’t let you get lost,” Gabriel said lightly, leaning over the steering wheel to look at the place as well.
