But understanding more about Griffin, suddenly I wasn’t so sure I didn’t want to stay with her at Blackwater. To train with her army.
Except I knew that wasn’t true either, not really. I was angry—for her and for myself and for all of us—but I’d never be that angry. I’d never been a rage-against-the-machine kind of girl.
Cat had been the one who had causes. She’d been the one to boycott big businesses and start petitions and join groups to raise social awareness. I’d always been along for the ride. Even if I did stay at Blackwater Ranch, that’s what I’d be doing, going along for the ride.
I didn’t have that kind of fire in my heart, no matter how much I hated the way the Daylight Division was relentless in their pursuit to capture us. I would still rather steer clear of them than try to take them down, because to me, you might as well be Jack trying to slay the giant. Even if we managed to take one down, they always had more giants.
They had more resources than we ever would.
Besides, I still couldn’t wrap my brain around this whole us-versus-them thing.
In my mind, I was still one of them. Maybe not Agent Truman and his Daylight Division, but regular people, like my parents and my little brother, Logan. Like Cat and Austin and all the kids I’d gone to school with, who even though they were older than I was now, were still the same ones I’d grown up with my whole life. It didn’t matter that I could see in the dark or needed less sleep. None of those things changed the fact that when it came down to it, I was the same dorky girl I’d always been. I still liked to watch The Little Mermaid over and over again and to sing at the top of my lungs in the shower, and I wanted to play softball and be kissed like I was the only girl in the world.
I mean, weren’t those the things that made me who I was, not the fact that if I concentrated super hard, I could levitate a book with my mind, which when you really thought about it, so could a lot of guys in Vegas who wore sparkly suits and did magic tricks.
It seemed to me, those of us who’d been returned should be on the same side as everyone else, even if we were different now.
“You don’t have to agree with Griffin,” Simon said, getting up and standing in front of me. “But it helps to understand where she’s coming from,” which was probably true of everyone if you stopped to think about it.
His hand moved then, and his thumb skimmed the underneath of my chin, slipping beneath my jaw. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “And no matter what happens, now that Tyler’s back, I’ll still be here for you, Kyra. Always.”
Then he bent forward and his lips pressed a soft kiss on my forehead. And before I could tell him no, or stop, or this so wasn’t a good idea, he’d already turned around and left me all alone.
PART THREE
Nothing happens until something moves.
—Albert Einstein
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Day Thirty-One
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG FOR NATTY AND I TO FIGURE we were stuck in this weird kind of limbo—not really being detained, but still . . . kind of being watched. Nyla was no longer stationed outside our tent, and she hadn’t been replaced by another guard or anything. But we also weren’t completely free to roam the camp.
Natty was the one who figured that part out, when she’d gone out exploring. It was at the same time Simon had stopped by to check on me.
She told me about her strange experience as we hunched over a plate of fresh berries and sliced cheeses that evening in the cafeteria, pretending not to be aware of the sharp-eyed glances directed our way.
Natty thought she was only being paranoid at first. But when the same blond girl kept popping up wherever she went, no matter how hard she tried to ditch her, she realized she was being tailed.
Eventually the girl approached her, suggesting Natty should go back to our tent, using some lame excuse about Natty having had enough sun for the day. Seriously? I’m sure that was what she was worried about—Natty being overheated or burning or whatever.
But according to Natty, it wasn’t an order or anything. It was more like a vigorously reinforced recommendation. A recommendation that came with a new blond shadow. Natty thought she could have objected, but rather than try to dodge her new stalker for the rest of the day, she’d just given in.
The girl had escorted Natty the entire way back to Paradise . . . you know, to ensure Natty didn’t “get lost” along the way.
But at least we knew where we stood now. We weren’t prisoners, but we weren’t not prisoners either.
Clear as mud.
Natty tried to find the blond girl again so she could point her out to me—on our way to the cafeteria, while we ate, and during our walk back—but whoever she was, she was clearly off-duty.
Too bad. I wanted to know who our non-guards were.
Tyler was waiting at our tent when we got back, and the anxious look he gave me, along with the way he rubbed his hands over the sides of his khakis, made it clear he wasn’t the spy assigned to keep an eye on us.
“Hey,” he offered, his deep dimple gouging a path through his cheek.
Suddenly I felt like I needed to wipe my palms, too, as I bit my bottom lip and grinned back at him. It was silly, knowing all this about who we’d been and having to start from scratch. Silly and awesome all at the same time, because maybe it wasn’t so bad, having all these firsts all over again.
“Hey,” Natty said, and Tyler blinked, all surprised-like, as if she’d just . . . poof! . . . materialized from out of nowhere.