Alphas

19
ALPHA ACADEMY
SHIRA’S OFFICE
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH
8:08 P.M.

Charlie squeezed the tiny flash drive in her hand as she read the news ticker that slithered across the windows outside Shira’s office.
Skye Hamilton is recovering from a fall in Mimi’s dance class. She will live but will she live it down?… LoChang is picking up a third major. In addition to engineering and sculpting she has added string instruments… Animal plastic surgery phenom Kutya Slavin gave a beautiful nose job and tummy tuck to Poncho the Chihuahua. The results are inspiring….
It was hard to focus on the Island Update when the key to her future lay in her sweaty palm. It had taken all night and most of the day, but it was finally time to show Shira what she could contribute—or rather, how she had contributed to building the Brazillionaire’s precious academy. So what if her mum always said bragging was tacky? Charlie was just as qualified as the girls who’d actually applied. And her application, essay, design blueprints, tech specs, and international education would prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Fiona set a white mug on the ice-block table. A stream of coffee rained down from above.
“No thanks.” Charlie smiled graciously at the assistant. But no sleep, no food, and the rumbling churn of anxiety had left her wired enough.
“Try it,” Fiona urged, her mud brown eyes unwavering. “Trust me.”
Leaning forward in her chair, Charlie politely lifted the cup to her mouth. It smelled like Bee. “You got the recipe.” She sipped.
“Miracles do happen, you know.” Fiona grinned, sounding more like a nun than a beaten-down rebound assistant.
“I guess.” Charlie sighed, remembering that her mom had sent Shira the recipe as a thank-you.
A green light above Shira’s door illuminated.
“She’ll see you now,” Fiona said.
“Thanks.” Charlie placed the empty cup back on the table, then pressed her sweaty hands into the ice. The chilly burn cooled her nerves.
“Good luck.” Fiona waved.
Like Dorothy approaching the Wizard, Charlie crept with caution toward the alpha’s open door.
“Beyoncé, it’s not that we don’t appreciate the offer, luv, it’s just that I’m not taking any guest lecturers from the mainland at this time. Island policy, lolly. Nothing personal.” Shira waved for Charlie to come in and sit down while she wrapped up her call. As always, she wore round black glasses, a matching maxidress, and an air of superiority.
Behind her Lucite, Australia-shaped desk, five new portraits of her sons were displayed on the floating shelf. Darwin’s brown locks were standing up like he’d just run his fingers through them. She stared at his face, his freckle, and his hazel eyes without inhibition, like he was art hung for her to admire. There were no traces of guilt, longing, or pain anywhere inside her. Just appreciation. For the first time in days, just appreciation. He was perfect.
Suddenly Darwin blinked, and Charlie gasped. She waved just in case the live feed went both ways, but Darwin didn’t respond.
“I know, and I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Shira said into her Bluetooth, sounding bored.
Next to Darwin’s frame, Dingo was slouched over a notebook, undoubtedly planning his next elaborate prank. Taz was swinging from a ceiling fan. Sydney was drying his eyes on the sleeve of his blazer. And Melbourne was completely still, probably working on his mannequin-modeling poses.
“You are at the top of my list should the ban on outside influences ever lift, okay? Love to Jay. G’day.” Shira pressed a recessed button on her Lucite desk and the call was done.
“Celebrities. They’re more beastly than Komodo dragons.” Shira swiveled toward her guest. “Tim Tam?” She gestured to the tray of imported Australian cookies.
Charlie popped one in her mouth and luxuriated in their melty chocolate goodness. Shira took a cookie as well, and they chewed in comfortable silence. For a second, Charlie forgot all about their recent drama—or trauma, rather—and basked in the joy of sharing a delicious snack with a woman she’d known her entire life. It was nice to just sit and—wait a minute! Charlie swallowed hard, then pushed the plate aside. This wasn’t companionship. It was Stockholm syndrome; a condition where kidnapping victims BFFed their captors. It seemed highly improbable that Charlie could find pleasure in the presence of this particular tormentor. But in her vulnerable state—no friends, no boyfriend, no mother, no sleep, Tim Tams—she did. And so she reminded herself that Shira’s small kindness wasn’t kindness at all—just an extravagance to reinforce good behavior.
Charlie smacked the flash drive down on Shira’s desk.
“What’s this?” Shira looked but didn’t touch.
“My Alpha Academy application. The essay, the transcripts—everything I would have needed to get in on my own,” she said, the assertive words harder to pass than a kidney stone. “I hope you’ll see that I belong here and lift the conditions placed on my admission—namely the breakup with Darwin and the forced resignation of Bee Deery. ”
Charlie sat still, listening for the crack of thunder Shira was sure to rain down on her. But all she heard was her heart beating in her ears.
Shira tapped her long fingernails on the Lucite desk and then pushed the drive back to Charlie. “Rejected.”
“You’re not even going to look at it?” Charlie asked, stunned. She’d assumed Shira would at least be curious.
“I don’t have to. I’ve known you for fourteen years, lolly.”
“Then you should know I don’t want to be your spy.”
Shira calmly pushed her dark glasses up the bridge of her sharp nose. “Oh, my darling girl. Spy? That sounds so Disney. Allow me to suggest a more sophisticated moniker. Perhaps ABS: Alpha Behavior Surveillance.”
Charlie thought about the last time she’d made eggs for Darwin. They had been left alone in a villa in Tuscany with a fridge full of nothing but eggs and condiments. She’d burned the omelets to a sad, plasticky lump. She’d quickly covered them in ketchup and renamed the dish Eggs Marinara. No matter what it was called, it had still left a bad taste in her mouth.
“I can’t do it.”
Shira folded her arms across her chest and leaned backward. “If you’re half as smart as you claim, you should understand the unique benefits of this offer.”
Charlie’s eyebrow lift signaled that she had no clue what Shira was taking about.
“You’re in the unique position of being the only girl all but guaranteed to make it to the final two.”
“That’s a benefit? To be your spy until the real alpha is revealed?”
“ABS.”
“Fine, whatever you want to call it. But what’s the point of sticking around if I don’t even have a fair chance?” Charlie laughed bitterly as she realized there was no scenario—not now or ever—in which Shira would see Charlie as a true contender. She hated herself for ever having believed otherwise.
“Number two is still something to be proud of”—Shira lowered her voice—“for most people.” She looked over at the doorway, where Fiona hovered, just like Bee used to.
Shira pushed back from the desk and stood, smoothing down her flowing black dress. “Excuse me—I have to approve the new font for the Island Updates,” she said, following Fiona out the door. “The old one was so… common, don’tcha think?” She winked at Charlie, then slipped out.
Charlie squeezed her hands into angry red fists. She hated Shira more than the stomach flu. More than girls who called her Charlie Brown-nose. Even more than…
Charlie blinked. Dingo’s image was moving. He was slinking across his bedroom toward the life-sized portrait of his father. After a couple of beeps, the picture swung open and Dingo disappeared inside.
“Oh my God.” Charlie sat ramrod straight in her chair.
Like a match igniting off a lit candle, her brain cells sparked a brilliant idea.
In the final week before school opened, she had invented one last gem for her mother. With so many buildings and tunnels and so much technology to account for, Bee and Shira would have had to keep over a hundred keys with them at all times. So Charlie had created a gold skeleton key that overrode every security system on the island. Shira had had it in her hands just the other day…
If she could get it somehow and give it to the Jackie O’s, they could meet the boys in the tunnels, undetected. And they’d know that Charlie was on their side, even if she was the ABS. They’d be trusted friends in no time. Sisters in arms. The only flaw, aside from a life in prison should she get caught, was that she’d be helping Allie J and Darwin fall in love.
The bitter taste of half-digested Tim Tams coated her throat. That was the last thing she needed. But if she wanted to stay at the academy, she had to be an ABS. And she wanted to stay. Seeing Darwin with someone else was better than not seeing him at all.
Charlie sighed and looked around the office. Last time, the gold device had been on Shira’s desk. But not today. All she saw was the bookshelf, the picture frames, the black-and-white globe, the giant book about Shira’s life, the—wait, backtrack… the black-and-white globe!
If she’d learned anything from her time with Darwin, it was where Shira hid her keys.
Without another thought, she flicked the “pin” that unlocked the globe (Shira’s hometown of Adelaide, where she’d met her late husband). Sure enough, there was the spare key, blinking like a puppy at a pet store, begging her to take it home.
Quickly, she slid it into her skirt pocket and closed the globe just as the office door swung back open. She spun around, heart pounding.
“Font approved. Now, where were we?”
“I was just going,” Charlie blurted, inching toward the door.
“Not so fast.” Shira’s crispness stopped her short.
Charlie slowly turned on the heels of her clear gladiators, her pulse racing. “Yes?” She willed her voice not to shake.
“Do we have an agreement?” Shira blinked innocently.
“Oh yeah.” Charlie smiled in true relief. “I thought about it and you were right. ABS is a good offer for a girl like me.” She backed into the glass atrium hallway and forced herself to walk away slowly.
But the second she got outside, she broke into a run.
The night air smelled of orange citrus blossoms and hope. If Bee could have seen her now, she’d have marched Charlie back in and made her return the key. But Charlie didn’t care. Shira had taken so much from her; it was only fair she take something from Shira. And all she asked for in return were some friends.
And revenge.