conspiratorial like weâre total buddies, and ducks through a low, ornately carved doorway. The door clicks shut.
What was that about? My heart is beating painfully inside my chest, a tiny mallet against bone.
âAnouk,â Miss Sei says. I turn. Sheâs waiting at the foot of the staircase, watching me. âPlease rejoin the group.â
She starts up the stairs, six-inch heels going off like a pair of nail guns. I hurry to catch up with the others.
âDinner will be served at five forty-five tonight.â Miss Sei looks straight ahead as she talks, eyes fixed on a point in the middle distance. âNot all the staff has arrived yet. Iâm sure youâll forgive any lapses in hospitality. Please feel free to freshen up and rest in your rooms. Be ready to meet Professor Dorf in the entrance hall at five-thirty. That is all.â
Jules casts a halfhearted look back down the stairs toward the cars and the luggage. Lilly pats the strap of her backpack and smiles sweetly at him.
We arrive at the second-story hallway. Miss Sei opens a huge door. âMr. Maiburgh, Mr. Park, Mr. Makra. This will be your room. Miss Peerenboom and Miss Watts, please follow me.â
She heads down the hallway again, and I catch a glimpse of her face, like a mask, tense and frozen. If I werenât so heartless, Iâd probably feel bad for her. Babysitting teenagers is a big step down from chief science officer of the Sapani Corporation. I would be seething, too.
She doesnât say anything as she opens our doorâjust stands next to it, watching us with those glimmering eyes. I slide past her into the room. Catch a whiff of something coming off her, bitter lemons and rosemary, like really strong soap. Under it is another smell, duller. Chemical.
As soon as the door closes and Miss Seiâs footsteps have retreated down the hallway, Lilly shrugs off her backpack. Lets out all her breath. Collapses on the bed like she just ran a marathon. âThis is so weird. Did you see this place? Itâs like Hogwarts. But bad.â
I stand stiffly, looking around me. The ceiling is high, fifteen feet at least. Dark green silk covers the walls. Tassels and silver brocade pillows drip off everything. And itâs cold. I can hear the whisper of an air system, but all the heat must be rising to the ceiling, curling under the sumptuous plasterwork. I definitely canât feel it down here.
Lilly laughs suddenly and rolls off the bed. âSo what do you think of the boyyyys?â She crawls on hands and knees over to her backpack and starts digging around in it. âHaydenâs stuck up, but I think heâs just insecure. Like, he needs friendship .â
I donât bother answering. As usual, Lilly doesnât care. She pulls out a very large, clear plastic toiletry bag and resumes her crawl.
âI like Jules,â she says. âHeâs hilarious.â
âOf course heâs hilarious, have you seen his face? Itâs called overcompensating.â
Lilly stops crawling. Looks over her shoulder like I just ate a puppy. âThatâs not cool, Anouk. Itâs not.â She stands and walks the rest of the way to the bathroom, her expression closed up like a box.
âWhat?â I say, spreading my arms in a Hey - donât- shoot-the-messenger stance. âPeople who are considered less attractive by society have to find other ways to make themselves desirable. Itâs science.â
âItâs mean.â She tugs open the bathroom door and disappears inside. I hear the rush of a faucet. When she speaks again her voice is flat, echoing through the door. âDâyou know what was up with the bodyguards?â
Apparently sheâs done discussing boys with me. At least she can take a hint.
âI was wondering the same thing,â I say. âThey donât want anyone to know what they found hereââ
âBut then why invite students?â Lilly
Arthur C. Clarke and Gentry Lee