I pull my schedule from my pocket as we head back out of the cafeteria. Logan, the boy from last night, strolls up to meet us.
“All the first years have the same classes,” MJ says, not glancing up from her giant cup of coffee.
“But we all have our own independent study where we work on our specialty,” Logan says, wedging himself between us. “What’s yours, by the way?”
“Uh, computer programming.”
“Nice.” He nods. “A hacker.”
I’ve never considered myself a hacker. I don’t even see myself as a computer geek, just someone who likes to spend a lot of time online. “So everyone here has a specialty?”
He nods. “You’re the only hacker. MJ’s is languages. Mine is explosives.”
“Like making bombs?” I ask, dumbfounded.
He grins, flipping his hair out of his eyes. “Or dismantling them.”
“Don’t worry,” MJ says. “They make him work out in the barn away from the school ever since he blew out a window in the lab.”
Logan’s grin deflates into a scowls but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches over and snatches my schedule from my hands. “What do you have for gym?” He studies the paper.
“Something called Zumba.”
He chuckles. “Of course. They’ve been giving that to all the girls.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s a Latin dance type of aerobics,” MJ says as she tosses her empty cup at a nearby trashcan and misses.
I remember late-night infomercials with middle-aged women in too-tight spandex jumping around erratically. “How is doing Zumba going to prepare me for life as a secret agent?”
“It’s not.” Logan shakes his head like the idea’s insane. “It’s just to keep you in shape.”
“What do the boys have?” I ask.
“Basketball. We had rock climbing last quarter with the girls.”
“I still think it’s strange. Why a dance class?”
“Bria leads it. She’s a second-year. She convinced McAllister the girls needed their own gym class, and because we don’t have two gym teachers, she told him she’d teach it.”
“And he just let her?” In my old school, I couldn’t convince a teacher to give me a hall pass to use the bathroom, let alone design my own class. I keep forgetting how different this place is.
“Have you met Bria?” He smirks.
“No, not yet. Why?” A wide grin spreads across his face. “What’s her specialty?”
“Seduction techniques. “I glare at him. “Well, officially its negotiations, but how exactly do you think she gets what she wants?” I shrug “You’ll understand when you meet her.”
***
I follow MJ into the locker room to change for gym. I use my open locker door to shield myself as I change into a pair of baggy mesh shorts and an oversized T-shirt that still smells like home.
MJ looks me over with a discerning gaze. “No,” she says and turns back to her locker, fishing out a pair of black skin-tight yoga pants and a fitted black tank top. “Put this on.”
“Why?” I glance around and find the answer to my question. The other girls are in similar outfits. My baggy shorts and T-shirt, which were perfectly suitable at my old school, are out of place. “Thanks.” I take the clothes from her, making a mental note to ask my mom for black yoga pants.
The six of us gather in the girl’s gym, which I learned from Logan had been recently remodeled at Bria’s insistence. The polished wood floors and wall to wall mirrors make it feel like a true dance studio.
A tall girl with jet black hair swishing at her waist glides through the glass doors and walks to the front of the room. This must be Bria.. With an olive complexion, striking green eyes, and a thin body that’s curvy in all the right places. She’s stunning. I silently vow to start a diet tomorrow.
Bria turns on the music—a quick Latin beat—and claps her hands, signaling that class is about to begin. I already feel inferior in her presence; let alone attempting to dance in front of her. All the girls fall silent and turn to face her, seemingly just as mesmerized as I am.
Bria’s eyes fall on me. “Have you ever done Zumba before?”
I shake my head, embarrassed a being called out. My voices breaks when I try to speak. “No,” I blurt out.
Bria turns back to the mirrors. “Just watch what I do and try to follow along. I’m sure you’ll catch on.” She bounces on the balls of her feet, working her hips from side to side in time with the music. All of the girls follow while I stand there transfixed by her swaying hips for a second longer than I care to admit, attempting a little too late to copy the movement.
I glance at myself in the mirror. My movements are jerky and awkward and so unlike Bria’s. She breaks into another dance step, more complicated this time, whipping her hips to move across the floor, sashaying her arms as she goes. While it seems to come easy to the other girls who follow Bria’s lead, it takes me a few minutes of stumbling over my feet before I catch on, but still, I just don’t look right.
I watch Bria’s rear thrusting, her hips rocking, and I try to copy the moves just as she’s doing them, but my hips just don’t move that way. In the mirror, I’m stiff and rigid, and in this skin-tight outfit, there’s no forgiveness. My arms and legs are stick straight, my chest is flatter than it should be, and I have zero muscle tone, but just to spite me, Mother Nature has blessed me with the round booty that runs in my family. My mom and grandma both have this ass, and I can assure you it doesn’t get better with age. From what I’ve seen, it will spread wider and begin to sag as middle age approaches. I look back at Bria. I’m pretty sure she’ll be a MILF.
The girls around me know every step and don’t wait for me to catch on. They’re flying through the moves, all synchronized. They march forward, hop back, step apart, and grind down to the floor. I’m always a step behind, and just when I’ve caught on, they add another move. They clap their hands in unison before beginning again. And just when I’ve caught onto the clap, the move changes and my clap rings out alone at the wrong moment. Damn it.
I resign myself to the fact that Zumba is not something I’m good at and spend the next hour trying to move in the right direction and not stick out too much. My moves have little resemblance to the others’.
When the class ends, I’m sweaty, out of breath, and thankful it’s over.
The girls file from the room, crowding around the drinking fountain. A group of guys stands outside the glass doors, and the fading smirks on their faces tell me they’ve been watching us. Fan-freaking-tastic. In a room with just six of us, there’s nowhere to hide. My only hope is they were as captivated by Bria’s hips as I was. Logan shakes his head at me, laughing. He intimates my jerky hip movements, thrusting his hips back and forth. Crap.
“It’s Taylor, right?” Bria asks from the front of the classroom. She motions me toward her while blotting a towel to her cleavage. I seriously need to stop checking this girl out. I step toward her and glance in the mirror again. My dull brown hair, pulled into a ponytail, is damp with sweat at my temples. My wide set blue eyes look childish, too innocent next to her exotic beauty.
“You seemed a little stiff,” she says, looking me over.
“Yeah, my body can’t move like that.”
“Nonsense. Of course it can” The doors open behind us. A guy who looks as much like a model as Bria does strolls in. “I need a guy’s perspective.” Bria waves him over. He obeys and walks toward us.
He’s ridiculously attractive. He has a tall, perfectly cut body from what I can tell under the dark jeans and T-shirt that strains across his defined chest. He also has a few days’ stubble on his jaw, and his brown hair is a bit too long to lie flat, but looks perfectly messed up.
“Hey, you coming by later?” he asks her, his voice low and unconcerned.
Of course it makes sense that he’s with someone like Bria.
“Do you want me to?” she asks, flirting with him.
He shrugs and glances toward the mirror, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” she says a little too quickly, like she’s afraid he’ll lose interest.
He nods once, almost imperceptibly.
“Colt, since you’re here, I need your opinion.” She waves him closer.
As he crosses the room to stand next to us, I notice other things about him. His eyes dance with mischief, and he moves with a sense of confidence reserved for guys who are too cocky for their own good.
Colt’s dark eyes hover on mine for a moment, then he gradually lowers his gaze. My skin burns as his eyes travel down my body. Having his full attention makes my stomach flutter.
“Oh,” Bria interrupts his inspection of me. “Taylor, this is Colt. Colt, Taylor is a new first year.”
His eyes flick up to mine once more and stay there. It’s like looking into the sun. I have to look away.
Bria hits the music, turning it on low. “Okay, we’ll start with a basic move. Try this.” She swivels her hips side to side, working them in a figure-eight pattern.
Colt’s eyes follow the sway of her hips. Is this really why she wanted him here? To watch her do this? She gives him a little show, then smiles. He blinks and looks away.
“Go ahead, Taylor,” Bria says.
This is ten times worse with Colt watching me. I close my eyes briefly, trying to catch on to the beat of the music and visualize my hips moving like Bria’s. I sway back and forth, hoping to God I’m not making as big of a fool out of myself as I feel like.
For some reason I look to Colt. His lips are tugged up on one side as he watches me, his eyes sparkling. I can tell I’m entertaining him. I can also tell it is nothing like how Bria just entertained him. Whatever. I don’t care. I’m not here to impress anyone. In fact, I hope I won’t be here for long at all. I’d much rather be back home, where we have regular gym class with uncoordinated gangly boys and where no one is a supermodel.
Bria puts her hands on my waist and spins me around so my backside is facing her and Colt. “It’s not horrible, right?” she asks Colt.
I brace for his response, but he stays quiet.
“She’s skinny, except for this little rump on her.” She pats my butt.
What the…? Did she just…? I spin around to face them. My face remains composed, but in my mind I’ve killed her like three times. This time Colt’s not even trying to hide his smile. Is this some sick game between them?
Bria takes his hand and weaves her fingers between his. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Oh, he’s all yours, honey.
“Is this lesson over? I need to figure out where my next class is.”
“Yeah, this is boring,” Colt says.
I wonder if he has the slightest clue he just insulted me. Nice.
She waves me away and turns off the music. “Just trying to help.”
Somehow, I don’t think for a second that’s what she was trying to do. And the satisfied little smile on her lips proves me right. Bitch.
Chapter 4
Taylor has two left feet, she’s awkward and unsure, yet she’s completely captured my attention. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and in person, she’s far prettier than I first thought. The yearbook photo didn’t do them justice, but those are definitely the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s thin, yet has a few hard-not-to-notice curves.
I watch her grind her hips with a smirk pulling on my lips. Bria’s ploy to keep me interested is backfiring. Big time.
I take the opportunity to study the contrast between Bria and Taylor. Bria’s appearance – complete with manicured nails and not a strand of hair out of place isn’t nearly as appealing as Taylor’s feminine innocence, and natural unassuming beauty. Bria is practically throwing her sexuality in my face, so I’m perplexed at my strong reaction to Taylor. She’s not my type. Too young… too real…
I shake my head and chuckle at the look of concentration on Taylor’s face. Bria slips her hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. I look to Taylor to see if she notices. She does.
Now girls, don’t fight. There’s plenty of me to go around.
Bria’s expression tells me she’s not above the catty threat our closeness implies.
“Is this lesson over? I need to figure out where my next class is.” Taylor stands her ground, looking Bria up and down with annoyance.
“Yeah, this is boring,” I say, stuffing my hands low in my pockets.
Taylor’s face betrays her hurt over my comment. Good. I couldn’t have her knowing how not boring that was. Down boy.
Bria’s wicked little grin gives away her motivation and her eyes find mine just briefly. “Just trying to help.”
My ass she was trying to help. She wanted to humiliate the pretty little new girl in my presence to make sure I only noticed her. And don’t get me wrong, of course I noticed Bria. I’m sure she’d be in my bed later, but Taylor – she’d be fun in a different sort of way. Soft, innocent, a tense bundle of nerves I’d have to coax her out of her shell. Bria would be on me the second I gave the command. Where’s the fun in that?
Taylor pushes past Bria and storms toward the door. She gives it a shove and continues into the hall. I shuffle out past Bria without a word and follow Taylor into the hall. In a few paces, I catch up and she tenses, noticing I’m beside her.
“Where are you headed?”
She glances over at me briefly, then turns away, looking annoyed. “I have Defense Techniques next,” she says, thrusting her chin up.
I smile. “Me too. I’ll show you.”
Her brow creases. She assumed I’m a second year like Bria, so she’s trying to understand how we have the same class.
“So where are you from?” I ask.
“Pennsylvania.”
“And you were a junior there?” I inquire.
“Yup.” She nods.
I can sense she’s irritated at me. I have no idea why.
We climb the stairs, and walk in silence along the long hallway, and for once I don’t know what to ask next. I never have to try around girls, but she seems completely immune to me. I decide to wait her out. After a few minutes, I’m proven right. The silence becomes too much for her.
“So…” she asks like she can’t help what she wants to say next, biting into her soft bottom lip. “Bria – she’s your girlfriend?”
“Um, no.” I focus my gaze down the hallway, thinking about how to answer. “We hang out some nights.” I clear my throat, stopping myself. God I sound like a dick. Great first impression, Colt. You want this girl to like you, not be repulsed. I recover, glancing over at her and flash a smile. “But regardless, I don’t date first years.”
She shakes her head and lets out a throaty laugh at my assumption. “Ew, no. That’s not why I asked.” She holds up her hands. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of being even remotely interested in you.”
I plaster on an unconcerned grin. “Good. Now that we have that settled.” I pull open the door. “In here.”
Chapter 5
The classroom is a big, empty room with some tumbling mats on the floor and it’s buzzing with all the first year students. I head straight for Logan in the center of the room. The instructor hasn’t shown up yet, so people are goofing off. The overhead lights are turned off, but the big windows let in plenty of natural light.
“That was quite a show you put on,” Logan says, grinning at me. It takes me a second to remember that he and a group of guys stood watching my Zumba class. I slug him in the arm. He winces, but his smile doesn’t fade.
Colt faces the class from the front of the room. “Alright guys, let’s get started.”
Everyone falls quiet at once. I lean toward Logan and whisper, “Another second year as an instructor? Can’t this place afford teachers?”
He shakes his head and whispers back, “Colt graduated last year He is the instructor.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I hiss.
Logan’s eyes scrutinize me. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Colt’s charms already.”
I’m taken aback for a moment, and tune everything out as I try to recover. Colt is a teacher here? He looks our age. But even as I think it, I realize it’s not entirely true. He’s taller than all the other guys in the class, and more filled out through the chest and shoulders. And he carries himself with just enough confidence and edge to make him stand out.
But regardless, he’s an instructor here and he definitely has something going on with Bria, who I know for certain is a student. Isn’t that against the rules? But then I remember Colt specifically saying he didn’t date first years. That’s messed up. Shouldn’t he have said, ‘I don’t date students?’
I blink the thought away and try to pay attention. It’s none of my business. Colt’s giving instructions and demonstrating a few blocking moves with an eager female volunteer. When he’s done explaining it, Logan turns to me. “Be my partner?”
I nod.
Logan and I each stake a defensive stance, with our hands up, guarding our faces, like Colt demonstrated. A second later, Logan’s holding my wrists firmly, then in a quick movement sweeps my legs out from under me. But instead of hitting the mat hard, like I expect, he eases me down gently. I’m lying on the mat, flat on my back wondering what the hell just happened.
“Sorry.” He grins and offers me a hand. I let him pull me back up to standing.
We spend the next few minutes with Logan helping me to learn how to take him down. At first I don’t think I’ll be strong enough, but then he shows me it isn’t about strength, but technique. Element of surprise and a few carefully placed body parts, like my foot behind his ankle and an elbow to the stomach. It sends him off balance and he’s on his knees in front of me. I use my foot to press his chest to the floor.
Colt walks by just as Logan is getting back up to his feet. “Nicely done, Taylor,” he says as he passes by. His eyes don’t linger anywhere for long as he scans the class. He points out bad form, adjusting limbs and nods when he sees something he likes. Logan catches me watching Colt and looks at me quizzically.
I snap my gaze away and focus on Logan, who’s brushing off his shorts.
“So what’s his story?” I nod toward Colt’s retreating back.
“What do you mean?” Logan asks as he demonstrates the next move, a soft knee into my stomach. I fold into it and he uses my hunched position to get me on the ground again.
I lay there for a second, catching my breath. “He’s really an instructor? He’s so young.”
Logan bites his bottom lip and shakes his head at me. “Oh shit. Not you too. Another Colt Palmer devotee.” He frowns disapprovingly, then pulls me to my feet. “He’s nineteen. He graduated from here last year and instead of doing field work, he became an instructor.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m not a fan. He seems pretty sure of himself.”
“I would be too if I got that much ass.”
I don’t know if Logan’s kidding, but something tells me he’s serious. “This place is crazy. I would think a teacher dating students is against policy, not to mention moral standards.”
Logan huffs. “Since he doesn’t mess with girls under eighteen, or date anyone in his class, no one really cares. Though no other morals seem to be in place, apparently that’s one rule he abides by.”
I guess that’s what Colt meant when he said he didn’t date first year’s earlier. I’m even more bothered that he automatically assumed I was going to try coming onto him. Was he that sure of himself? I would not be one of the dumb ass girls following him around, hoping to be added to his long list of conquests. “What’s with him and Bria?” I ask.
“You seem awfully interested for someone who doesn’t care,” he teases. But I stay quiet until he continues. “He and Bria are sorta together. Well, as much as Colt’s ever been with anyone.”
“What does that mean?”
“He likes the chase. As soon as they give it up,” he tips his head toward the door, “he’s gone.” Logan pulls my wrists behind my back, securing them with one of his hands. “If Bria sticks around, it’ll depend on how long she’s cool being his fuck buddy. Or until he gets tired of her.” He sweeps his foot underneath mine, but this time, instead of being knocked off balance and collapsing, I lock my ankle with his and bring us both to the ground. It’s not a graceful landing, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow. I roll over on top of him, pinning him to the mat with my thighs. He smiles up at me. “You catch on quick.”
Colt strolls by again and gives me a questioning look. “Taylor, whatever you want to do in your free time is fine, but can you please dismount Mr. Darcy?”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment and I quickly get off of Logan. I hear a few giggles around me. Once Colt’s gone, I pick up our conversation again. “He sounds like a real delight. Why do girls go after him then if he’s such a dick?”
Logan’s mouth quirks up. “Have you seen him?”
I shoot him a look.
“What? Gay or straight, you can’t fault me for noticing that boy’s cut.”
I shake my head.
“Besides, they don’t always go after him, it’s sometimes the other way around. He likes the chase.” It’s still so strange to me that we’re discussing one of our teachers, even if he isn’t much older than us. Logan continues, “Plus girls like bad boys, right?” I shrug my indifference. “That would explain why I get no play,” he says.
I try to concentrate on the moves I’m learning, but anytime I look at Colt to watch his instruction, I can’t seem to keep my mind out of the gutter, despite what all common sense is telling me. And as much as I try to avoid it, my eyes are drawn to Colt’s form, he’s solid muscle, his jaw is set hard with just a hint of edge. He gives off a distinct, ‘I’m a badass’ vibe. Hard to ignore. Easy to hate.
MJ weaves her way over to me and Logan and bumps her hip against mine, pulling my attention from Colt.
“Lemme guess, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the one and only Colt Palmer and now you’re feeling the need to shove some ice down your panties.”
“Um, no.” My voice sounds surprisingly confident, though the ice doesn’t sound like a half bad idea. “Well, yes I met him, but the ice won’t be necessary, he makes me want to lash out irrationally.”
“Good.” MJ seems relieved.
“What’s the deal with him, anyways?” Since she brought it up, I don’t feel bad pumping MJ for information too.
Her eyebrows knit together in frustration as she studies me.
I hold up a hand, stopping her. “And don’t tell me ‘he’s nice once you get to know him.’”
She breaks into a smile. “No, actually I was going to say he’s an asshole, but you’ll get used to it.”
MJ and I are going to get along just fine. I grin to myself, realizing that Piper would like her too.
Chapter 6
I wait in McAllister’s office, ready to leave if he keeps me waiting another…thirty seconds…I decide. I watch the second hand on my watch tick his time away.
He appears in the doorway, carrying a stack of papers. “Weren’t going to leave on me, were you?”
I don’t answer. Instead I pluck the files from his hands. “What’ve you got for me?” I flip open the first file folder. “I’m going fucking crazy playing teacher here. This was not what we agreed when I came to work for you.”
He gives me a once over. Okay, so it wasn’t like I had many choices after graduating last year, but I knew what I wanted. To be in the field, taking the assignments no one else wanted, going from place to place, never sleeping in the same bed twice. It sounded perfect to me. But the reality has been quite different.
McAllister said he needed me here, at least through this semester, and he promised he’d pepper in occasional assignments to get me out on the road. When I’d agreed, he’d asked me to tone down my “extracurricular activities” – which we both knew meant banging every girl in sight – but I’d said no way, that wasn’t part of the deal. And so here we are. Me pissed and angry at him for tying me down to this school, and him fed up with girls weeping in Vera’s office, asking to be sent home. But the sooner he sent me out on field work, the sooner that would stop. It was the only chip I had, so I played it. Plus, I had to do something to entertain myself. I’ve learned keeping things purely physical and keeping emotion out of it was the best way to go. And after the last few years of living this way, I have it mastered.
The first file is an assignment for Taylor. I glance at it quickly, wondering if she’ll be able to handle it. The next few files don’t contain anything that would require field work either. Which is why McAllister had been so hesitant to share them with me.
“I’m sure we’ll get something for you soon,” he says, as if reading my mind. But then again, he knows me better than anyone. At least he thinks he does.
He sits down behind his desk and rubs his temples. He lets out a heavy sigh. I feel like I’m looking at him and really noticing him for the first time in years. Being the head of clandestine organization isn’t exactly stress-free, and dealing with a bunch of teenage prodigies lends a certain interesting element, but they’re cheap labor. He can train and mold them to his will and then give them his grunt work while the money rolls in.
Realizing I’m still seated in front of him, he drops his hands and studies me. I can see an idea forming in his eyes. “Today I’ll test out what our new computer-girl is capable of.” He offers a weak smile, the idea somehow exciting him. “And if she’s as good as it seems, I may even resurrect my idea for hacking into the stock market and making some transactions under the radar.” His eyes twinkle.
“That’s a bad idea and we both know it.” I have no problem challenging him, like everyone else around here is afraid to do. I’d long ago stopped trying to win his respect. “You’ll land yourself and her in prison. Not unless you have a strong desire to get an ass pounding?”
He coughs, clearing his throat. The look of alarm on his face is priceless.
“No? Didn’t think so.” I stand and leave his office. Maybe it’s better if I’m here rather than in the field. Someone has to keep him in check.
Chapter 7
At lunch I join MJ and Logan in line for the salad bar, relieved I don’t have to navigate the cafeteria on my own. I’m pleasantly surprised to see the salad bar is much more than limp iceberg lettuce and baby carrots.
After loading up our trays, we grab ice water infused with cucumber slices, and settle at a table in the corner.
I grab a stray soybean that’s slid off my plate and pop it into my mouth. “So where were you guys last night?”
Logan suppresses a laugh.
MJ kicks him under the table and the laugh dies on his lips.
“I went to get a piercing,” MJ says in her confident throaty tone I’ve grown to like the sound of.
I scan the parts of her I can see. She doesn’t even have earrings in. I raise my eyebrows. “Well…Did you chicken out?”
Logan chokes on a bite of grilled salmon.
MJ rolls her eyes. Clearly there’s something I’m missing. “I put some icing on the cupcake,” she says.
“Huh?”
Logan, barely able to contain his composure, swallows a cherry tomato whole. “She put some bling on the bikini biscuit,” he says with a smirk.
My brain catches up with their imagery. I feel the heat traveling up my neck, coloring my cheeks. “Oh. Um…that’s…” No amount of etiquette conversations with my mother have prepared me for this moment.
“It’s okay.” MJ says. “You don’t have to approve. Logan doesn’t.”
“I told her not to do it,” he says.
“That’s because you’re afraid of vaginas.”
“I’m not afraid,” he says, but I can’t help but notice he cringes at the word. I’ve wondered about his sexuality, and it seems I’m no closer to learning the truth.
MJ straightens her shoulders. “Listen, I’m comfortable with my body and I’ll celebrate it however I choose.”
I like her enthusiasm. My body doesn’t incite the same type of response in me, but hey, good for her. “If you have that level of self-love, more power to ya.” I raise my ice water to her in a mock toast.
She nods, raising a mushroom speared on her fork and bites off the tip.
Logan goes pale.
After lunch we head into our Global Studies class. There’s one large square table in the center of the room with ten chairs. Looks like there will be no sitting in the back row going unnoticed as I try to get my bearings.
I follow Logan and MJ to take a seat, but as I slide a chair out from the table, the instructor approaches me. “Taylor?”
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