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Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) Page 8
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“Oh shush!” She rolled her eyes. “A girl’s gotta’ eat.” And before I knew it, she was off — on a beeline for Hagen’s table.
Chapter 12
Spilling Tea and Secrets
“Mia, wait!” Sophie hissed under her breath.
I laughed and shook my head. If there was one thing I knew about her, it was that once she had a plan, she executed it at any and all cost.
Catching my eye, Mia smiled. I quickly looked away, feeling sick to my stomach. Something about the way she looked at me told me I was involved in her plan. But how? What was she up to now?
“Mia!” Sophie’s voice was close.
The girls approached Hagen’s table. Sophie slowed and smiled.
“No, no, no! Keep walking. Follow me,” Mia said without moving the clenched teeth of her pretty smile.
“What? But… ” Sophie looked nonplussed.
“Trust me,” Mia sang before gushing loudly, “Good morning, Everett! Mind if Sophie and I sit with you?”
“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” I asked, giving her a searching look. Putting her tray on the table, Mia sat across from me. I looked from her to Sophie, who seemed very confused. “Here’s your tea,” I said, sliding the steaming cup towards her. Mia cut into her gooey waffle like a thick steak before giving me a stern glare and gesturing at Sophie. “Oh, sorry,” I said, clueing in. “Have a seat, Sophie.” I stood and pulled out the chair beside me.
“Thanks,” she said, grateful for the direction. She sat abruptly, accidentally hitting the cup of tea with her tray and spilling it on herself and the table. “Ouch!”
I quickly pulled her chair away from the mess, but she already looked pained and humiliated. “Hold your shirt away from your skin,” I said, grabbing the hem.
“Stop!” she hissed under her breath, her eyes darting to Hagen’s table.
My heart dropped as understanding set in. “Sorry. I was trying to help.”
Sophie’s cheeks blazed red. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself.” She again glanced at Hagen, who was too absorbed in bragging about himself to a mass of girls to notice.
I knelt in front of her. “I don’t care what other people think, Sophie. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Did the tea burn you?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said, obediently holding her shirt out. “It wasn’t that hot.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. It just shocked me.”
“Okay,” I said warily. “I’ll grab something from the kitchen to clean this mess up.”
I shot Mia a look. She nodded, signaling she understood to keep an eye on Sophie for me.
Kitchen towels in hand, I was on my way back to our table when a disturbing sight caught my eye. Taking advantage of my absence, Hagen had untangled himself from his many admirers at his table to sit with Sophie and Mia. My blood boiled, causing me to check myself. Why did I dislike him so much? Well, besides the fact that he openly flirted with Sophie and brought up Benson last night? I picked up my pace.
“I’m such a klutz,” Sophie whined, staring at her shirt.
“No worries. You’re just giving me more chances to save the day,” Hagen said from her side, wiping the table with a pile of napkins.
Gag! What a moron! Though Mia and Sophie didn’t seem to mind his smarmy comment. Sophie batted her eyes and blushed and Mia gaped, her fork of syrup-soaked waffle frozen mid-bite. My fists clinched the towels. I should never have left Sophie’s side.
“Thanks for your help, Hagen,” Sophie gushed.
“Glad to help a damsel in distress,” he chuckled, leaning into her. “You’re soaked. Is your room nearby?”
No, no, no! He was trying to get Sophie alone in her dorm! After the awful dream I’d had about Hagen and Sophie last night, there was no way I was going to let that happen. I had to stop him.
“Yeah, I live one floor up on Harmony Hall,” Sophie naively replied.
“Oh. Those are the new luxury dorms, right? I hear they’re pretty amazing,” Hagen said, not breaking his eyes from hers.
“Yeah, they’re really nice,” Sophie answered, also not looking away or noticing that I’d approached the table.
“You should go change if you live that close. No need to sit here in cold, wet clothes.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“No, really,” he insisted, his eyes opening wider. “You should go.”
“Okay.”
I cocked my head, noticing the blank expression on Sophie’s face just then.
“And I should come with you… to get the jacket I lent you,” he added.
Throwing the towels down, I slammed my fists onto the table, loudly upsetting glass plates and silverware. Startled, Sophie broke her gaze from Hagen to look at me.
“I grabbed some towels from the kitchen,” I calmly said, begrudgingly taking the seat next to Mia.
Hagen didn’t look pleased to see me. “A bag boy and a kitchen aide? Aren’t you a jack of all trades?” He smiled in mock approval. “But don’t let us keep you. You’re probably needed back in the kitchen for dish duty of some other menial task. In fact, here’s a dirty plate. You can take it on your way.” His eyes narrowed like a snake’s as he sharply pushed my tray of food towards me, spilling much of it on the table.
I remained seated.
“Chop, chop, bag boy!” he shouted, causing many to stop and stare.
I glared at him, openly airing my disdain.
“Simmer down! I’ve heard about your anger issues and we wouldn’t want to repeat what happened to Benjamin, now would we?” He put his hand to his mouth, whispering, “Think about it. You’re less likely to get away with it on school grounds, especially with all these witnesses.” He exaggeratedly looked around before giving me a satisfied smirk.
I could literally feel the heat radiating from my ears. I was about to jump over the table and do Dio-only-knows-what to Hagen when Mia beat me to the punch, standing and sticking her finger right in Hagen’s face.
“Enough!” Mia’s eyes bore into Hagen, the startled look on his face satiating my anger. It took a lot to morph dainty, feminine Mia into a protective pit bull, but when it happened, it was a real treat. “Just what are you trying to pull?”
Hagen forced a laugh, but the fear in his eyes was evident. “I’m not pulling anything,” he quietly said, shrinking in his seat. “It was harmless banter.” He turned to Sophie, again oddly looking into her eyes. “I need my jacket back. Some of the guys invited me to a football scrimmage, and it starts soon. I’ll be late if we don’t go now.”
“Okay.” She stood from the table, seeming thankful for the excuse to escape the tension.
“Sophie, wait! Mia will go with you. Hagen, you can stay here,” I said as more of an order than an offer.
Sophie looked from me to Hagen, not sure what to do.
Hagen stood and looked down into Sophie’s face. “Go. Now.”
With the same blank look as before, Sophie turned and walked away.
Hagen shot us a smug look before following after her.
“That. Was. Strange,” I said, musing over Sophie’s expression.
“What a creep!” Mia tossed her small frame against the back of her chair. “What nerve! Are you okay?”
There was concern in her big brown eyes. Or maybe it was pity. Regardless, I hated that look — the “I feel so sorry for you, you poor thing” look. In fact, I despised it. I was sick to death of people treating me differently, as if I might break from the fragility of my current state — whatever state that was supposed to be.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “And yes, ‘creep’ is the correct term. I don’t know what it is about that guy, but I don’t like him.”
“Maybe it’s the fact that he likes the same girl you do.”
“No, it’s more than that. Wait! What?” I couldn’t believe she’d caught me off guard.
Mia laughed. “I knew it! Your mom and I puzzled over this all summer. We noticed something was different about you, and
now I’ve figured it out.”
“Don’t be absurd, Mia,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You boys are all the same. So predictable. Like a moth to a flame. Like a dog to a chew toy. Like a—”
“Nice analogies! Very Aristotle of you.”
She punched me in the arm. The shrimp could pack a punch. Though I didn’t wince, it hurt more than I’d ever admit.
“There’s a bounce in your step, Everett, and you smile more lately… because of her! I suspected it when you went on about her over the phone this morning — actually, I first thought something was up when I talked to you during your time in Portland — but I wasn’t sure until I saw you two together just now. I’ve never seen you look at a girl like that.” She giggled. “And you get all weird and flustered around her, too.”
“I’m not listening.” I covered my ears.
“You should have told me,” she said, pulling my hands down. “But no worries. This matchmaker is now fully at your service, and first things first, you seriously need to up your game. Hagan at least thought of giving Sophie his hoodie so he’d have an excuse to see her again. I don’t like him either, but you have to admit, he’s pretty smooth.”
“Last time I checked, lending a girl your stinky hoodie isn’t smooth.”
“Whatever you say.” I hated the knowing look in her eyes. Growing serious, she slipped her arm through mine. “I’m sorry Hagen brought up Benson. Does it bother you that so many people are talking about him?”
“Does it bother you?” I asked, knowing how close they’d been.
“Of course, but I’m not the one they’re accusing of murdering him. I hate what they’re saying about you.”
Why did you do this, Benson? Look what it’s done to us. We’re so lost and broken without you.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.
“Okay.” Mia rested her head on my shoulder. “But if it matters, I do like Sophie. A lot. You two would be good together.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, not allowing myself to get wrapped up in the thought.
She straightened with a gasp. “Wait. I have the perfect idea! Have you stockpiled your dorm yet?”
“No. I’m living at my parent’s house this semester.”
“But it’s tradition!”
“Yeah, an Everett and Benson tradition,” I corrected her glumly.
“Oh,” she said, catching on. “Then I’ll stockpile my dorm in Benson’s honor, and you can stockpile Sophie’s. Just think. She’s probably in her room right now. Alone. With Hagen. It will give you the perfect excuse to break up the love fest.”
If my dream was telling at all, a love fest wasn’t what I was worried about, but Mia was convincing nonetheless.
“Fine,” I relented. “The kitchen staff is probably busy cleaning. Maddy will let us raid the pantry if we hurry.”
“Yay!” Mia squeaked.
Chapter 13
Stupefied
“Wow!” Hagen breathed, looking around. “Who’d you bribe to get this dorm?”
His eyes roamed about the room. Like an escaping prisoner avoids the spotlight, I avoided his gaze for fear of getting caught there again.
What happened in the cafeteria was strange. When Hagen looked in my eyes, my brain seized up, only computing what he said. And then, I found myself unthinkingly following his orders. It was more like my dream than I wanted to admit, scaring me to be alone with him now. Though, the accusation seemed ridiculous. Hagen has hypnotizing eyes? It was laughable. When it happened, I was flustered from spilling my tea, so maybe I imagined it.
Hagen smiled and ran his fingers through his shaggy blonde hair, looking like he’d stolen the move from a soap opera. Then everything went blank, for he’d caught me in his gaze. One moment, we were near the front door and I was admiring the way his blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at me. The next, we were standing by the couch and he was going in for a kiss.
“Hagen!” I started. “What are you doing?” I pushed him away.
My head felt foggy and pulsed with dull throbs. How had we gotten to the living room? The more I strained to remember the worse my head hurt. I collapsed on the couch, feeling like I might be sick.
“Are you okay?” Hagen asked, sitting next to me.
“No. I suddenly have a terrible headache.”
“Oh. It’ll be over soon.”
“Huh?” I looked up, confused.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Hagen and I jumped. I made a dash for the front door, thankful for the distraction. Mia and Everett stood at my doorway, balancing paper bags full of food on each hip.
“Move! I’m about to drop my groceries,” Mia said, pushing past me and running for her dorm.
Spying a bag of frozen peas in one of her bags, I grabbed it as she passed, pressing it to my head.
“I told you not to take that huge jar of pickles, Shrimp,” Everett called after her. He turned to me. “It probably weighs as much as she does.”
“I’m not a shrimp,” Mia yelled from her dorm. “I’m stronger than I look and you know it.”
“Sure, sure!”
“You wanna go?”
“No, you might break a nail,” Everett teased.
“True!” She laughed.
Noticing the bag to my head, Everett grew concerned. “What happened? You don’t look too hot.”
I gestured him in. “It’s nothing,” I replied, not knowing how to explain it.
His face hardened upon spotting Hagen. He turned to me, alarmed. “Did he do something to you?” Putting down his bags, he pushed the peas away to inspect my head.
“No,” I said, swatting him away. “It’s just a headache.”
“What are you accusing me of, Sinclair?” Hagen asked, rising to his feet.
I started, noticing Hagen had the hoodie I’d borrowed in his hand. “Where did you get that?”
Hagen glanced at it. “My jacket? You just got it from your room.”
“I did?” Why didn’t I remember? What was going on?
“Didn’t you have a football game to get to?” asked Everett.
“Oh, man, I’m late!” Hagen said, looking panicked. He crossed the room to where I stood beside Everett. “Sophie, you must be special to make a guy forget about sports. No girl has had that effect on me before.” Hagen glanced at Everett, making it clear the comment was more for his benefit than my own. Everett exaggeratingly gagged before heading to my kitchen with the groceries. Ignoring him, Hagen said, “I should go, but you promised to do lunch with me this week, right?”
“Sure,” I replied, again drawing a blank.
“Then it’s a date,” he said louder than necessary. “See you, beautiful.”
I shut the door and Everett groaned. “Please don’t tell me you buy that guy.” He’d been watching from the kitchen. “He’s a living, breathing soap opera. You honestly like him?”
I didn’t know what I thought about Hagen and was too sidetracked figuring out what had just happened to decide. “What are you doing in my kitchen?” I asked, evading the question.
“Stockpiling,” Everett replied, pulling items from one of the paper bags on my counter before stowing them in various drawers and cabinets.
I made my way to the kitchen. “Stock. Piling? And what… exactly… is that?”
“It’s a first day of school tradition. You stock your dorm with a ton of food from Brightman’s kitchen.”
“So you mean stealing.”
He whispered loudly, “It’s technically not stealing when Maddy lets us into the kitchen’s pantry, but don’t tell anyone because it doesn’t sound as cool.”
I smiled, feeling my headache receding. “And you’re stockpiling my dorm because… ?”
“Because I’m not living on campus this semester. My parents live nearby so I’m crashing at home.”
“Last night, you said my closet is bigger than your dorm,” I blurted off hand.
“Hmm.” Everett shrugged.
“Well, what did you get me?” I asked, rummaging through the other bag.
“Random stuff.”
“Oh, mint tea!”
“Since it’s what you asked for at breakfast, I figured you’d like some.”
“Thanks. That was thoughtful of you,” I said, surprised by Everett’s attentiveness. I unloaded more onto the counter, pulling out a box of my favorite cereal, a gallon of skim milk, and a clear plastic container of white, gelatinous liquid with lumps in it. “Ew! What is this?” I asked, half afraid to know. “It looks like a science experiment gone awry.”
Everett grabbed the container and the bag of peas I still held, putting both in the freezer. “It’s Maddy’s baked potato soup that you liked so much. She packaged the leftovers for you.”
“Awww… thanks.”
He laughed to himself. “Who uses the word awry?”
“Someone who spent her summer at a bookstore,” I answered without thinking.
“Why a bookstore? Didn’t you have friends or family — or a boyfriend — to hang out with?”
“That would be a no, no, and an even bigger no,” I replied.
“Why?”
“Because we move too much.” I caught myself. “I mean, Dad and I used to.” I felt melancholy as I thought of Dad. Noticing, Everett threw something at me. “Ouch!” I rubbed my arm where it hit.
“Oh, come on! That didn’t hurt,” he said, picking up the bag of Goldfish from the floor. “Here. Eat some and turn that frown upside down. You probably have a headache because your blood sugar is low from not eating breakfast.” He tore open the bag. “Besides, I can’t stand seeing you look so desolate, which is impossible while eating crackers with smiles on their little fishy faces.”
I laughed, throwing a few in my mouth. “Who uses the word desolate?” I mocked.
“The guy who probably loves books just as much as you do.”
I rolled my eyes not knowing if he was being sarcastic or not. After eating a few handfuls of Goldfish, I unloaded the rest of the bag near me, finding plums, mayo, smoked turkey lunch meat, a block of sharp cheddar, extra crunchy peanut butter, blackberry jam, whole wheat bread, a container of one hundred percent orange juice with medium pulp, movie-style butter flavored microwave popcorn, cans of mandarin oranges, dried apricots, Granny Smith apples, and a box of my favorite brownie mix.