A Girl Called Dust (25 page)

Lacey scowled. “Who do you think you are?
Veronica Mars or something? If I had seen or heard anything, don’t you think I
would have told the police already?”

“Maybe you forgot something or you didn’t
think it was important.”

Lacey slid down in her seat and smiled
slyly. “Dust, I went into the woods looking for them, but I never saw them.
What I
did
see was you running back toward the party with blood all over
you.”

“Yeah. That was after I had found Bailey
and was calling for help.”

Lacey puckered her lips. “See, Dust, I
would believe that if I hadn’t seen you myself. You didn’t look bothered or
afraid. You didn’t look devastated about what had happened to your friend. You
looked happy. You looked satisfied, like an animal that had just eaten.”

Part Four

Why I Am Dust

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Fletcher came back to school a few days
later. I hadn’t called or told him about the conversations I’d had with Bailey
or Lacey. I still didn’t know what to make of them myself.

That morning I had passed Jackson in the
hallway. It was my first time seeing him since that night. My cheeks warmed
when our eyes met. After seeing him butt naked, I would never look at him the
same way.

I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to the
side. “Hey, are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I was holding my own for
a while,” he whispered, “but then suddenly I changed back into me. That happens
sometimes at first. When I shift, it only lasts a little while, but it’ll last
longer as I get stronger. Oh, and sorry you had to see me naked.”

I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t help
it. “It’s okay under the circumstances. Listen, thanks a lot for helping, and
I’m glad you’re okay.”

Jackson patted my shoulder and moved
toward his next class. “Of course. We’re going to catch that thing.”

Fletcher and I sat underneath our tree
during lunch, and I gave him all the details. I was eating a hamburger, which
wasn’t very good, but it was meat, or some kind of meat-like substance, and I’d
been craving meat nonstop.

“So Bailey says she heard and saw you in
the woods that night?”

“Yeah, but we both know that there are
some creatures that can replicate people, like Jackson Stuart, but they’re
very, very rare.”

Fletcher lay on the picnic table with his
eyes closed. “Yeah, there’s less than fifty Shifters left in the entire
country. The real question is, why you? Why is this creature trying to make
everyone believe you’re responsible for this?”

I wanted to know too. It seemed that
someone was out to get me for whatever reason. What had I ever done to anyone?

When I finished my lunch, I pulled my
notebook from my backpack and tore out a sheet of paper. I wanted to make a
list of all the kids who might be one of us. It was very likely that one of
them was the culprit.

The first name I wrote on the paper was
Leslie McNeil. “When I passed by her desk today, she smelled like something
meaty and rotten.”

Fletcher nodded. “Yeah, she’s a Giver.”

“Why do Givers smell so horrible?”

“We don’t. You guys smell bad.”

I scowled at him. “No we don’t. We smell
like cinnamon and yummy things.”

Fletcher scoffed. “To each other, but not
to us.”

 “So that means I smell bad to you.”
The thought of that made me flush.

“At first, but not anymore. Once you’re
around someone enough, you get used to the smell. Anyway, Leslie’s an Angel.”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “Seriously?
An Angel? The girl’s been to juvie.”

“Angels aren’t perfect, and just like us,
she’s learning. Once she has her full powers, she’ll be a great protector.”

I nodded and scribbled Leslie McNeil—Angel
on the list. “Okay. Now tell me who else.”

Fletcher frowned thoughtfully. “I can’t
smell everybody, and the most powerful creatures learn how to mask their
scents. Anyway, these are the ones I’m sure of . . .”

I scribbled furiously as he talked.
Michael McPhee was a Black-Eyed Being. I had read about those. They take Human
form but have soulless black eyes and emanate pure evil. I wasn’t sure what
that meant, but it didn’t sound good. Ashley Wyatt was an elf. Her pointy ears
that were slightly too big for her head made that easy to believe.

Wild-haired Tracy Farris was a Gorgon,
like Medusa. Claudio Reyes was an Imp, which made perfect sense because he was
always playing stupid practical jokes on people. From reading The
Book of Us
,
I gathered that an Imp really served no other purpose than being a pain in the
ass.

The bell had rung, but what we were doing
was so much more important than fifth period. When Fletcher was done giving me
the rundown, there were twenty-two names on the list, but who knew how many
there were whose scent he couldn’t pick up? It was hard to believe that I had
gone to school with some of these kids since elementary school and never really
knew what they were.

“Does everybody know what they are, or
were they kept in the dark like me?”

Fletcher opened his mouth to answer before
he was cut off.

“What are you two doing out here? Fifth
period started ten minutes ago.”

Ms. Sampson, the meanest security guard in
the school, towered over us, blocking the sun. I gulped. The woman was built
like a Rottweiler that walked on its hind legs.

“Uh . . .” I began, but nothing would come
out. “We were just finishing up an assignment. We’re going in now.”

Ms. Sampson glared at me and pulled her
radio from its holster. “Finishing an assignment?” She gestured around the
field. “This look like study hall to you?” She turned her attention to
Fletcher. “Didn’t you learn your lesson from being suspended?”

Fletcher narrowed his eyes and looked up
at her. “We’re doing something important. More important than school. Go away.”

I sighed. That was typical Fletcher—blunt
and to the point—but Sampson wasn’t the one to pull that crap with.

“Office, now! Both of you!”

Throwing Fletcher a dirty look he didn’t
notice, I grabbed my things and trudged behind Sampson to the main building. My
heart pounded. I had never been in trouble at school before, ever. Mom was
going to flip.

“Sit,” Sampson ordered, pointing to the
row of chairs that lined the front wall of the main office. “Principal Sharpe
will be right with you.”

“Ms. Sampson,” I pleaded, “do we really
need to see the principal? We were just running a few minutes late to class.
Can’t you just give us a detention?” Really. It did seem a bit much.

She rolled her eyes at me. “You weren’t
just running late. You were being defiant and refusing to go to class, so to
the principal’s office you go.”

Okay, so Fletcher had refused to go to
class, but not me. I glanced at Fletcher, who was observing the fish tank,
completely unbothered.

Ms. Sampson went to talk to the head
receptionist, whose favorite pastime was hating all students. I elbowed
Fletcher in his side.

“Ow!”

“What’s wrong with you? You got us in
trouble.”

He shook his head. “We’re not going to be
in trouble. Relax.”

Just then, Mary-Kate came from the back of
the office carrying a stack of manila folders. She stopped at the head
receptionist’s desk and handed her an envelope. “Hey, Mrs. Reid, Principal
Sharpe wanted me to give you this.”

The student-hating receptionist smiled,
which was something I had never seen her do before. What magic did Mary-Kate
have that even Mrs. Reid liked her? “Thank you, dear. You’re always such a big
help.”

Mary-Kate smiled back then caught sight of
me and Fletcher. “Arden, what are you doing in here? Are you okay?”

I waited for Mrs. Reid to tell Mary-Kate
to mind her own business, but she got busy with some filing.

My face warmed. Why was I embarrassed?
Mary-Kate wasn’t my mom or a teacher or anything. She was a kid just like me,
but for some reason I hated her seeing me in trouble.

“We’re waiting to see the principal,”
Fletcher answered as if she had asked him.

Mary-Kate frowned. “Why?”

“We kind of didn’t hear the bell ring
after lunch,” I lied, “and we were late to class.”

Mary-Kate gave me this disappointed-puppy
look, and I just wanted her to leave. “How could you not hear the bell? When I
was out sick last week, I heard it from my house, and I live one street over.”

For the love of God. Please stop.

“Don’t you have stuff to do?” Fletcher
asked, but I was glad he’d said it.

Mary-Kate looked at him and rolled her
eyes. Everyone was used to Fletcher, so no one took his words to heart. “Yes, I
do. Just stay out of trouble, okay?” She took the stack of folders and hurried
out of the office.

I sank into my seat feeling chastised. I
liked Mary-Kate, but who did she think she was?

Almost twenty minutes later and after we’d
missed most of our fifth period classes, Principal Sharpe called us into his
office.

“Ms. Moss and Mr. Whitelock, have a seat
please,” he said as we entered the room. I don’t know how he managed to know
every student’s name, but he did. It was nice. Even though I was in trouble,
the fact that he knew my name made me feel important.

“Mr. Whitelock, I see we haven’t yet
learned our lesson, but Ms. Moss, I’m surprised to see you here.”

I sat up and took a deep breath. Maybe
since I was a first-time offender, he would go easy on me. “Please, don’t call
my mom. If you have to call a parent, call my father.”

Principal Sharpe sat back in this chair
and clasped his hands together. I wrinkled my nose, suddenly overcome with the
scent of cinnamon and something else sweet.

I glanced at Fletcher, who nodded.  

“You—you’re a Taker?” I asked, my voice
shaking. It didn’t sound right when I said it aloud.

“A Satyr. Being what you are doesn’t give
you the right to break the rules. School is still school.”

Satyrs. Half man, half goat, but I
couldn’t remember what they did.

“I know,” I said. “It’s just that we were
right in the middle of a super-important conversation, and . . .”

“I understand, but don’t let it happen
again.” He looked at Fletcher. “I brought you back from your suspension early,
but I won’t bend the rules for you anymore. Ms. Sampson will have a fit if I
don’t give you two Saturday detention, so Saturday morning, be here at eight
o’clock sharp.”

I threw Fletcher another dirty look, and
he looked slightly guilty.

“No more mouthing off,” Principal Sharpe
told Fletcher.

The bell rang for sixth period. “Off you
go. No more tardiness.”

We left the office, and I felt that we got
off easier than expected. “The principal’s a creature,” I whispered to
Fletcher.

“Yep.”

Fletcher and I fell into the crowd of
students making their way to their final classes of the day. “That wasn’t so
bad.”

“I told you we weren’t going to get into
much trouble. Principal Sharpe has much more important things on his mind than
a couple of kids cutting class.”

I didn’t know what that meant, and I
didn’t get the chance to ask.

Unfortunately, when someone earns Saturday
detention, a phone call is made to their parents. Luckily, Mom didn’t flip out
too much. I guessed once you knew your kid was turning into some kind of
monster-creature that may one day eat you alive, Saturday detention was just a
drop in the bucket.

Everyone knows that Saturday mornings were
made for sleeping in, so having to get up at seven was brutal. Still, I got up,
downed some beef jerky and bacon, and dragged myself to school.

Being in school on a Saturday was strange
and eerie. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but mostly it was
deserted. My mind drifted to what was going on
under
the school.
Sometimes it was still hard for me to believe that there was a whole secret
world down there.

I stepped into the empty hallway and
hurried to the second floor, room 213, where detention was held. I had never
been in there before, but I heard it was the coldest room in the school, and
somehow they managed to make it even colder during the winter. Hopefully my
newfound body warmth would keep me from getting frostbite.

Just as I hit the staircase, the click-clack
of heels against linoleum drifted down the hallway. I turned to see Mary-Kate
approaching. She had to be kidding me. She even came to school on Saturdays? At
eight o’clock in the morning? Who came to school when they didn’t have to?

“Mary-Kate, hey.”

“Good morning, Arden. I see you’ve earned
yourself a detention.”

I so did not want to talk about that.
“What are you doing here? Even you need to take a day off, right?”

She grinned. “I’ll just be here for a
little while. Next month we’ll be doing a coat drive, and I want to get a head
start making posters and flyers. If I’m still here when your detention is over,
I’d love some help.”

My Saturday morning was already ruined,
but I hadn’t planned on ruining my whole day by staying at school longer than I
had to. Besides, Fletcher and I had some investigating to do. “Uh, I’d like to,
but after detention, I have this thing—”

“It’s cool. Some other time. See ya.” She
walked off, not seeming disappointed at all. I had the feeling she’d expected
me to say no.

I sighed and pulled myself up the stairs.
My legs felt as if they were weighed down with lead. I dreaded spending the
next two hours staring at a desk.