Alphas (9 page)

“Wait!” Skye called, unbuckling her clear gladiators. There were dozens of clasps going up her tanned calves.

“I told you not to wear those,” Renee huffed impatiently.

“Why?” Skye fussed with a strap. “Because they draw attention to my toned legs and you’re jealous?”

“Stop!” Allie heard herself shout. “Why are you fighting? A boy/Is to enjoy/Not cause tension/Or dissension,” she quoted the
chorus of “Boy-Clott.”

“She’s right.” Skye kicked off her sandals and dipped her manicured feet in the water. The gentle surf licked them clean.
“We shouldn’t let boys come between us.”

“In bed!” Renee giggle-blurted.

Finally, they all cracked up. Allie had forgotten how good genuine laughter could feel.

“Listen.” Triple cupped her ear.

Their laughter ceased.

“Burn. It! Burn. It! Burn. It!”

“Come on!” Skye shouted.

The girls hurried toward the male voices, trepidation and excitement fueling their pounding hearts.

Stopping short of the flickering orange light, Allie, Renee, Triple, and Skye examined the brothers’ shadowy profiles. Sixteen-year-old
Melbourne, fifteen-year-old Sydney, fourteen-year-old Darwin and thirteen-year-old twins Taz and Dingo, each in a Crayola-colored
hoodie, stood around a flickering fire.

“Burn. It! Burn. It! Burn. It!” they shouted at Darwin. He was hug-rocking a white sweatshirt like it was a newborn teddy
bear.

Allie twisted her jet-black glossy hair over one shoulder. Were they interrupting some bizarre boy-cult ritual?

“Come on, Dar, you can do it,” Taz said gruffly but gently. But Darwin just shook his head and tried to walk away. The other
brothers turned to grab him, and realized immediately that they had an audience.

“Hey boys,” Skye trilled.

The BBBs made the split-second transformation from boys to men. They straightened up and walked over, each one offering a
variation on the standard-issue
what’s up?
head nod. While her friends hair-tossed and smiled, Allie felt a sudden wave of lightheadedness that had nothing to do with
her meat-free stomach. If only Fletcher could see her now.…

Taz stepped forward wearing a smile that deepened into a dimple on his right cheek. “We were just helping out our bro.”

Melbourne pushed down his hoodie. “His girlfriend dumped him. Skype-and-run. Brutal.”

Sydney made a sniffling sound. Was he crying about his brother’s breakup?

Renee pinched her cheeks for a burst of color. “Who do you want, Allie J?” she whispered.

Fletcher
, she answered in her head.

“Did you know your pj’s are like a mirror?” Melbourne told his reflection, which just so happened to be over Allie’s boobs.
“I can totally see myself.”

“Ignore him. He’s in love with himself.” Dingo extended his right arm.

“Allie.” She reached for it and shook. “J.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “Strong grip.”

“Really?” Allie dove into his grass green eyes and rolled around like a happy puppy. Until she heard a crack.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Dingo shouted.

“Ahhhh!” Allie shouted back as his arm fell out of his sleeve and landed with a thud in the sand. Blood sprayed like Evian
mist. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Everyone burst out laughing. Except Allie, who wiped his fake-hand germs on the side of her nightgown, cursing herself for
forgetting the Purell.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that.” Triple tapped on Melbourne’s sleeve.

“What?” he asked.

“Look
that
good in a hoodie.” She smiled.

“I bet you do.” He unzipped his hoodie and handed it to her. “Try it.”

“Smells gooooood,” Triple purred, slipping it on.

Allie rolled her fake green eyes and shuffled toward the warmth of the fire. Skye had already partnered off with Taz, and
Renee was discussing her character’s emotional arc with Sydney. The last thing her heartache needed to witness was budding
romance. It was more nauseating than ipecac. Heavy with hopelessness, Allie sat across from Darwin. With his drooping brows,
slumped shoulders, and deep heaving sighs, his outsides matched her insides.

Totally unfazed by her arrival, he pressed his white earbuds deeper into his ears and picked up the guitar leaning next to
him.

What?

More than anything, Allie was embarrassed by his lack of interest. What if the other girls saw them sitting like a couple
of monks? What if word spread to the mainland that Allie couldn’t score? What if Fletcher heard about it? He’d never want
her back.

But Allie had never made the first move. She never had to. Allie J, on the other hand, was a different story. Allie J wasn’t
as pretty as Allie. She wasn’t even
blond
!

Without further hesitation, Allie pulled the earbuds out of his ears and smiled.

“Did you know that however long you date someone, it takes half that long to get over them?”

Darwin popped a toothpick in his mouth. It smelled like cinnamon. “Then I’ll be fine in about six years, ten days, twelve
hours, thirty-eight minutes.”

Hazel eyes. Sideswept bangs. A black freckle above his lip. Presumably real.

“Where’d you hear that, anyway?” Darwin asked with a skeptical chuckle.

“Um, my parents are scientists. For the mind and stuff.” Allie shrugged. Actually she’d read the heartbreak-to-time ratio
in
Seventeen
magazine, but he didn’t need to know that.

She inched closer, placing herself within accidental knee-grazing distance.

He turned to face her, and she inhaled the citrus-y scent of Burberry cologne. It made her eyes water. Fletcher wore cologne.

“I’m Darwin.” He grinned at her mole.

Allie instantly covered it with her hand.

“Allie. I mean, Allie J.”

His hazel eyes looked lit from within. “The singer-songwriter-poet?”

She nodded.

“I was literally just listening to you. ‘Three-second rule for your heart/Pick it up fast/Watch it restart.’” He held up an
earbud as proof. “See?”

The folksy track sounded tinny through the headphones.

She changed the topic by pointing to the small white sweatshirt in his lap. “Did it shrink?”

“No, it’s my ex’s.” His lips curved into a painful frown. “My brothers wanted me to toss it in the bonfire. But I can’t.”

“Ah,” Allie sympathized. “I just went through a breakup too.” She pulled a dark lock of hair and inspected it. “And I got
rid of everything.”
Including me.

“That singer guy?”

Allie sighed. Stupid
Us Weekly.
“No. That was a rumor. My ex cheated on me. One day I found him all over Trin—”
Oops!
Allie inhaled quickly. “Uh, I mean, all over a triple-meat burrito.”

Darwin burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh—low and rumbly, but genuine. “You dumped your boyfriend because he cheated
on you with a
burrito
?”

Allie blushed right down to her kohl-mole. “Well, he lied to me about, um, being a vegan. It’s a betrayal of trust, really.
If he’s eating meat, what else is he not telling me?”

Darwin nodded like he got the betrayal part.

Allie boldly snatched the sweatshirt out of Darwin’s hands. “Who cares about the hows or whys. We already said our goodbyes.”
She dangled it in front of the fire.

“‘Love on a Compost Heap’! Great song.” He gazed into her colored contacts. She wanted to look away to protect her identity.
But she couldn’t seem to do it. He was a magnet. She was a fridge.

“You know what, you’re right.” With a catlike swipe, he snatched the sweatshirt out of Allie’s hands and whipped it into the
fire.

They stared as the synthetic fibers hissed and melted into a thing of the past.

“Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!” the brothers cheered on his behalf.

Darwin saluted them with a smirk, then turned back to face Allie.

Flames reflected in his eyes, but he still looked kind.

All of a sudden, the aPods began to beep in surround sound.

“What’s going on?” Allie asked.

“She knows something,” Darwin mumbled.

Allie’s stomach lurched
.
“Wha’do we do?”

Darwin and his brothers raced around the beach, dousing the fire and washing any traces of perfume from their bodies.

“Turn your aPods off! Maybe we can stop her from triangulating!” Darwin shouted.

Allie J had no idea what
triangulating
meant, but it updated his status from rebound to crush.

“We have to go,” Renee barked. “Now. Move!”

Skye gave Taz a peck on his cheek. Melbourne reached to pull Triple closer, but she took off before he could plant one on
her lips.

Allie jumped to her bare feet.

“Wait.” Darwin stepped into his gray Converse. “Maybe you could—”

“Yes!” She blushed, suddenly missing the dark.

“—help me write a song?” It was his turn to blush.

“Anytime!” Allie jogged backward, trying to commit his perfect face to memory.

“Allie J!” Renee called, running.

“Coming!” She smile-waved goodbye, then turned and bolted.

Allie had no idea how to write a song. No idea if she was about to get busted. No idea if she’d ever see Darwin again. All
she did know was that Fletcher hadn’t popped into her head for an entire minute, making this illegal outing totally worth
it, no matter
what
happened next.

Charlie lay flat on her back, cursing the morning rays that cast cheerful yellow streaks across her bedding. She squeezed
her eyelids shut in a futile attempt to keep the light out and the sleep in. But it wasn’t the sun’s fault she’d barely slept
a wink. Instead of counting sheep, she’d spent half the night counting the ways she missed Darwin:

One: the smell of cinnamon. Two: his passion for everything. Three: the way he understood her, even when she didn’t understand
herself. Four: their endless catalogue of inside jokes. Five: his loyalty. Six: their ongoing fight over who had better taste
in music. Seven: OMG: Music! He loved Allie J! Eight: She snuck out to see him! Nine: What if she made it? Ten: What if they
hung out? Eleven: What if he started falling for more than her lyrics?

These thoughts kept her up all night, especially seven through eleven. How could she have overlooked the fact that Darwin’s
favorite
female
artist was about to make a special appearance in his
house
!?

When her roommates came home, Charlie pretended to be asleep, all the while straining to hear any mention of Darwin. Aside
from a few terse whispers and occasional giggles, the girls fell silently into bed. Charlie reassured her racing heart and
sinking stomach that Dar had probably spent the whole time sulking, playing guitar, and wondering where it all went wrong.
But that was the Darwin she knew. Who had he become in their hours apart?

Suddenly, Charlie’s aPod vibrated. Her lids fluttered open.

He missed her too!

She swiped the phone eagerly from her bedside table and blinked to focus. Blinking back was a message from Shira.

SHIRA: MY OFFICE. NOW. DON’T WAKE THE OTHERS.

Even the font looked angry.

What could she possibly want? Charlie was fresh out of moms and boyfriends to sacrifice.

Drawing on every ounce of courage she had, Charlie swung herself out of bed, legs first. But instead of landing in plush silver
slippers, she touched down on something mushy and tepid.
Sea foam? Animal poo?
Her love life?

Peering over her knees in fear and trepidation, she checked the floor.
Charlie Brown-nose
was spelled out in disintegrating shaving cream alongside her bed. Her heart lurched. Her eyes stung. Her stomach locked.
She quickly surveyed the room, wondering if Triple had been tagged too.

She hadn’t.

Four sets of limp arms and legs were strewn across the beds, as if waiting to be stuffed at the build-an-alpha workshop.

Tears burned Charlie’s tired eyes like expired mascara. Why was she doing this again? With no friends, no family, and no boyfriend,
the reason was starting to escape her. All summer, she had fantasized about going to Alpha Academy, surrounded by intelligent
girls who worked hard and just wanted to be their best—like her. She would finally fit in with someone other than Darwin.
Finally be known as something other than Shira’s assistant’s daughter. It had never occurred to her that she’d stay an outsider
on the inside too.

Charlie wiped her feet on the rug next to Renee’s bed. Given that Rayne had once had a shaving cream fight with her ex, Lance
Firerock, on
Perfect Storm
, Charlie’s alpha dollars were on her.

Her aPod vibrated again.

SHIRA: WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?

Slipping a short platinum robe over her silver baby-dolls, Charlie ran out into the morning. The sun was high, as if up for
hours. Still, eggplant-colored clouds gathered with force above Shira’s mansion.

The instant her slippered feet touched the smooth brick path, a bubble train pulled up alongside her. Zipping along the pink-sand
coast, Charlie tried to convince herself that the Jackie O’s weren’t worth her time or energy. That she wasn’t there to find
BFFs, but after a lifetime of globe-trotting and homeschooling, “friends” were something she ached to try.

The chairlift stopped suddenly in the waiting room outside Shira’s office.

“Morning, Charlie.” Fiona, Shira’s former No. 2—who Charlie guessed was now No. 1—greeted her. Her mud brown eyes and scraggly
strawberry blond waves made her look like a Cavalier King Charles spaniel. She was wearing the same Bluetooth headset and
hyper-alert expression that Charlie’s mother had worn for the last twelve years.

“Hi Fiona.” Charlie slid off the chairlift and into the familiar scent of espresso, gardenias, and guava-enhanced glass cleaner.
It used to smell like home. Now it just reminded her of what she had—or rather, what was gone.

Alpha Academy news scrolled across the floor-to-ceiling windows like the ticker on CNN.
Samantha Hays, Havilland Marie, and Cindy Shure caught in chemistry lab making makeup. Formulas were flawless but the edible
blush has been confiscated… Discovery Channel reporter from Oprah House caught trying to wrestle a lion after someone said
she was no Bindi Irwin… The silver cami and matching boy shorts outsold the other pajama options by 30 percent.…