Alice in Wonderland High (23 page)

He snorted. “You really know nothing. At least in the zombie apocalypse you'd be safe. They only eat brains, after all.”

I climbed onto the truck bed and looped my fingers through the metal bars of the cage to keep it steady. “Kingston, I don't want to fight with you. We're on the same side.”

“Are we?” He eyed me for a long moment. “Seems to me you're siding with Chess and Whitney.”

The metal bars cut into my palms as my fists tightened around them. “They're on your side, too.”

“No, they're not.” He grunted as he lifted the pig onto the truck. “It's all about Chess.” Kingston shot a quick glare in his direction. Farther in the distance than he'd stood before, Chess pressed one finger into his open ear and spoke into the phone, his back to us now. “I waited and waited, and look what happened.”

Kingston let go of the pig too early, almost like he was throwing her. The pig's eyes widened, and she flung her limbs wildly. Kingston shoved her into the cage. He snapped his hands back, fingers shaking.

“Oh my God! You hurt her!”

“I didn't mean to—I—my hand was all tingly.” He glanced up at me, mouth ajar, and I expected anger, but he looked . . . scared. He brought one palm up and dragged it across the side of his face. His voice went soft and he squeezed the tufts of his shirt with white knuckles. “Sometimes . . . I have a problem with my anger.”

I nodded. No way was I going to argue with him anymore.

“Don't you see, Alice?” He let go of his shirt, leaving behind star-shaped wrinkles. “My problem
is
as big as Chess's. It needs to be dealt with.”

Curiouser and curiouser. I didn't see how one related to the other. “I'll help you.” If he was this desperate to get someone on his side, then maybe he really needed it. It might be illegal, but it couldn't be worse than what we'd already been doing. Ideally, anyway.

“That's the problem.” He slammed his fist into the metal of the car, rattling it. The pig reacted in familiar terror. Kingston's fist left a dent, and I got a horrible sense of déjà vu. “No one can help me.”

In my sixteen years, this was my second encounter with the police. The first had happened when one of them came to tell us about the car accident that killed my parents, and that was an experience best forgotten. After filing a report where we claimed Chess lost control of his car because an animal crossed his path—hey, it was true—the police insisted on calling EMTs and our guardians because we were underage. Both our guardians.

Chess looked horrified as he gave up his dad's number. The EMTs checked our vitals and though we aced the exam, it was standard protocol to send us to the hospital for a more thorough check-up; our guardians would meet us there. Chess gave me a skeptical look, and I tried to beam him the telepathic message,
It's okay, we'll find a way to keep you in Wonderland
. On the bumpy ride over, I couldn't help but rack up all the bills Chess wouldn't be able to afford: ambulance, medical, insurance, tow truck, the ticket for reckless driving, totaled car.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and staleness mixed with clean linens. Nurses in colorful scrubs poked in and out of the curtained sections. I was numb all over, drained of energy. Even my brain was too tired to come up with loopholes to get him out of here before his dad arrived.

Stomping footsteps made me glance up a second before I spotted Lorina approaching. Her face was as white as the décor. As she got closer, the redness outlining her puffy eyes became visible. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Lorina settled her eyes on Chess's and my interlocked hands swinging between our adjacent cots. She used telepathy to break us apart. I clasped my hands in my lap. Chess sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to face my sister.

“I'm all checked out.” My voice sounded hoarse, and I wished they'd given me a glass of water and not just a tongue depressor shoved down my throat. “I'm sorry,” I added.

The sectioned-off room felt smaller than normal, like it couldn't fit all of us and the heaviness of what had happened.

“The police said—but I want to hear it from you.” She put on the brave mom-face I'd always wished she would discard.

Chess stepped in with the dry facts, the ones we'd told the police. “I'm not a bad driver,” he insisted. “It wasn't my f—I tried to avoid—” He sighed. “My fast reactions saved us,” he said weakly. The unspoken part of his speech rang in my ears.
We were lucky to have survived.

My parents weren't so fortunate. I pressed my fingers against the wrist of my left hand, and my pulse pounded beneath them. I let out a breath. I really was alive.

Lorina, however, looked like she wanted to die, her face pinched from the story. Redness crept under her eyes, and she fanned her palm in front of her face to prevent more tears. She strode forward and wrapped me in a bear hug.

“I'm glad you're okay,” she said into my hair. She let go of me and pulled back to study my face. “What were you doing all the way out here anyway?” They'd brought us to the university hospital.

“Alice came with me to tour the school,” Chess said, and I nodded to corroborate.

Lorina sighed. “Alice, you should have told me you were coming here. You want me to trust you, but—” She glanced away from me and set her eyes on Chess. “A university tour?” She pursed her lips. “Were you there when the animals got out?”

Chess and I exchanged glances, which did not go undetected by Lorina. She pushed herself off the bed and crossed her arms. “Some girl—a student at your school, actually—released all the animals. A few are still missing. Pigs and sheep and cows. I was listening to the police scanner at work. Do you know anything about this?”

Blood drained from my face. Good thing I was in a hospital because I might have required a transfusion.

“No.” Chess shook his head a little too vigorously.

“That must have happened after we left,” I tried to keep the hitch out of my voice. “Is this related to your investigation?” I didn't want to ask, and I especially didn't want to put the idea in her head, but I had to know.

“We don't think so. This seems isolated. None of the other incidents involved animals. Still, we're checking it out.”

Sensation returned to my numb fingers. Okay, so they didn't suspect us for anything else.

“Alice . . . ” She crouched in front of me, placing her palms on my knees, and whispered in my ear. “The reports state there were two other people with the girl and the descriptions match you two. And you just admitted to being there today.”

The one time I needed to lie more than ever, the words stuck in my throat like peanut butter on the roof of my mouth. They were there, but I couldn't dislodge them. I glanced over at Chess. He looked like a wax figurine, a lifeless replica of himself.

“That's what I thought. Alice, what were you thinking—why were you—was this the first time—I don't even understand.” She jerked away from me and buried her head in her hands. “I'm so disappointed—God!” She brought her hands down to her sides and balled them into shaky fists. “Let's go.”

I hopped off the bed and placed a palm on her shoulder, rising on tiptoes to reach. “Lorina, calm down. I'll explain.”

“Fine, explain.” She crossed her arms.

A nurse shuffled by, checking the chart hanging off Chess's bed and smiling at us before departing again. In that momentary pause, I saw an opening.

“Not here. Maybe you can sign Chess out, too. His dad's too far away to come get him and he needs a place to crash tonight.”

Chess's head snapped up.

“Excuse me?” Lorina backed away and laughed like a crazy person. “The guy almost kills you in an accident—somehow gets you involved with . . . with . . . criminal activities! And you want to bring him home?”

“It's not like that.” My voice came out desperate and high-pitched. “I'll tell you everything. He's a good guy. But he . . . doesn't have any place to go. For one night, please! We'll figure something else out tomorrow.”

Lorina aimed her eyes at Chess. “Where are your parents? Why are you in Wonderland if you don't live here?”

“He's been living out of his car, it's a long story, it's—”

“It's okay,” Chess said, shooting Lorina one of his beaming smiles. She clucked her tongue. “I have an aunt I can stay with. It's really no big deal.”

His words hit me hard because I knew how much he didn't want to go to his aunt's, but now that he'd offered in front of Lorina, there was really no way around it. He was already so transparent, like a flickering hologram about to fade away. I tried to soak in all the images of him I could before he disappeared completely.

Lorina nodded once. “Good.” She paused and eyed him. “What's your last name again?”

I wondered why she wanted to know. Was she going to turn him in?

Chess didn't say anything, just fiddled with his gown.

“It's not a hard question.” Lorina set her wild eyes on me.

If he didn't tell her, she'd only get more suspicious. “It's Katz,” I said.

“Katz. Katz. Why does that sound so familiar?” She slung her purse up onto her shoulder.

“Because you've always wanted to own one,” I said quickly, in case she made any connections to Chess's farm and her investigation. “Remember that play you once put on to try to convince Mom and Dad, where you had me crawl around on the floor and meow?” Oh God, I should never play poker.

Lorina looked at me like she didn't think that was funny at all. “Let's go.” She huffed toward the reception desk. I glanced at her, then back at Chess, and committed what would probably be my last act of defiance for a long time.

“Is your dad even coming?” I placed my hands on his knees.

“He better. But I'm not looking forward to this reunion.” He let out a strained laugh.

“Alice,” Lorina hissed. She marched back over.

I kept my eyes on Chess and forced brave words out of my mouth. “I think maybe we should . . . take a break.” It killed me to say the next words even though they were fake. “From us,” I said loudly, for Lorina's benefit. I suspected she might protect me, but she had no loyalty to him. She might be more apt to turn him in if she thought he'd still be a bad influence on me.

Chess's mouth parted in surprise. I added a wink and reassuring smile in case he thought I was serious. I also squeezed his knee for good measure.

Lorina must have heard me because she hung back, arms crossed, and waited.

Chess's eyes flicked to Lorina then back to me. He gave me a brief, knowing look, then donned a stony expression. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. I won't ask for your help anymore.”

Ugh. He was trying to protect me, so Lorina would think this was a one-shot deal for me. Couldn't he see I was trying to protect him with this fake breakup? I pleaded with my eyes. “Not that it matters, because it's done,” I added.

“Right.” He nodded. “As is this.” He pointed back and forth between us. “A bit of advice, though,” his voice was cold and hard, but his foot slid over to mine, rubbing against it in a subtle way. “Stick with Whitney,” he said in a lower voice, for my benefit, not Lorina's. “You shouldn't stop because I'm not there.” He glanced up at me and met my eyes. “No wait, you
should
stop. Don't put yourself in danger.”

“You just contradicted yourself.”

“Like I said, sometimes both paths are right. The way I see it, both directions lead to the same place.”

“What does that mean?”

He raised his voice again at Lorina's approach. “It means you're not going to listen to me either way.”

“Come on.” Lorina tugged on my arm.

I gave him a quivering smile as I rose to a standing position on shaky legs. I followed Lorina to the reception desk, walking backward. My chest rose and fell as Chess grew more and more distant, vanishing slowly until the only thing left of him was his grin. Imprinted on my brain.

As soon as Lorina left for work the next day I hightailed it to Whitney's, despite my firm grounding orders. As each second ticked by without the door opening, I worried Whitney would blame me for her arrest. Plus, I still had to tell her my boyfriend had been forced to go who-knows-where without even an overnight bag or a cell phone and I had no idea when—if ever—I'd see him again. Notify Homeland Security to change the suck levels to red.

The multi-doors opened to loud rock music blaring in the background and Whitney's scowl. “You're as predictable as a chick flick.”

I braided my fingers together. “Are you okay?”

“Grounded for a while.” A clatter of pots and pans issued from inside, and Whitney snapped her head toward it. “Rain check?”

“I have to talk to you about yesterday. It's important.”

Whitney paused, studying me. “Fine. You're a ghost. Don't let my parents see you.” She placed a finger to her lips for emphasis. “I'm in enough trouble.”

I took baby steps as I followed Whitney through the hallway. The banging sounds increased the farther we went inside her house. With all the noise, I probably didn't need to take such grand procedures to conceal my entrance, but I'd gotten a lot of practice sneaking around lately.

Whitney's hand perched on a door we'd never gone through. When she opened it, I spotted stairs that led to the basement.

The stairwell started out normal. White walls. A wooden railing. Rickety steps. But then, like we'd teleported to a jungle, dracaena trees rose above us, towering over potted plants that created an aisle down the center of the room. Everything smelled fresh and flowery, attacking my nose in the same way Quinn's over-applied perfume did. The lush lime green of the plants turned the area into a monochromatic painting except for the colorful flowers popping up every now and then.