The Shadow Prince
Page 58
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Tobin’s hand shoots up. “I will.”
“Thank you for your enthusiasm, Tobin. I’ll mark you down. Anyone else?”
Tobin’s hand goes up again.
“Yes?” Mr. Morgan asks.
“I think we should hear from the new student,” he says.
I look up at him. I keep my face expressionless, but I can only hope that the glint of panic doesn’t show in my eyes.
“I’d like to hear what he’s got. And where better than in front of the whole town? He must be something pretty special to have earned a spot in the department without auditioning.”
I sit up straighter. My gaze shifts to Mr. Morgan.
Mr. Morgan looks flustered. I wonder what kind of “requests” Simon made of him to get me in the program. “Well, only if he wants to. It’s completely voluntary.”
Tobin sets his glare on me. The rest of the class follows his lead. “What say you? Are you up for the challenge?”
If it is possible for someone’s expression to say, “You’re not fooling me. I know you don’t belong here. Try to prove me wrong,” all in one narrowed-eyed look, this Tobin guy is pulling it off. It isn’t a physical confrontation, but his challenge is just as serious as any one I’d accepted in the Underrealm.
And, oddly, feels just as dangerous.
Like not accepting will prove to him that I’m not who I claim to be.
“Challenge accepted,” I say.
As other students volunteer to add their names to the performance list, I catch Daphne’s eye for the first time since class started. I want her to see that I am not afraid. Even if, deep down, I really am.
When the bell rings, I pick up my songbook and leave as quickly as I can. I can sense Tobin coming after me, and Daphne only a few steps behind him. I duck around a corner. Leaning against a locker, I listen as Daphne catches up with him.
Chapter thirty-two
DAPHNE
“Stop, Tobin,” I say as I catch up to him in the hallway. “What was all that challenge crap back there? You’re not going to try to punch him again, are you? Because you’d probably get kicked out of the play this time if you do.”
“I just wanted to see where he goes next.”
“To class,” I say. “Like everyone else.”
“Or so we think.”
“I told you, I don’t think Haden is a bad guy.”
Tobin takes me by the elbow and leads me into a small alcove in the hallway, like he’s afraid someone might overhear what he has to say next. “You know there was another attack Friday night?” he says. His voice is low and quiet, but I can hear an edge of accusation in his tone. At first, I think he’s referring to what happened to Lexie in the grove and he’s mad at me for not telling him about it—frankly, I didn’t because I haven’t been able to process what happened yet, myself—but then he goes on: “She was a cater waiter at the party. One of the valets found her unconscious near the lake.”
“Oh no.” I clasp a hand to my face. “What happened?”
“They’re saying heart attack again. But I don’t believe it. And I don’t think it’s any coincidence that Haden was skulking around a party where someone ended up being attacked. I saw him sneaking over my back fence just after we left my mom’s office.”
I shake my head. “Haden didn’t hurt anyone after leaving the party.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he was with me,” I say.
“What?” Tobin’s face goes ashen. “You left the party with him?”
“Not exactly …” I give him a quick overview of what happened to me and Lexie in the grove, even though I know it all sounds insane. But Tobin doesn’t balk at my description of the weird screeching noise, the freaky, swooping shadow thing, and the stormless lightning. In fact, he doesn’t react at all until I get to the part about how Haden showed up just as the weird shadow disappeared. “He helped Lexie and me Friday night. That’s how I know he wasn’t off attacking people.”
“Are you sure?” Tobin asks. “I mean, you said you couldn’t see who, or what, it was that was after Lexie … and then Haden just happened to show up? How do you know he wasn’t the one who was trying to hurt her in the first place?”
I shake my head in frustration. “Because I just do. And I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened to Pear, either. I was mistaken about that. He’s not evil. He’s just different.”
“What, do you like him?” Tobin takes a step back, as if the idea of my liking Haden is repulsive to him. “You have a thing for him even after what I told you about Abbie?”
“No. I definitely don’t have a thing for Haden. Listen, I agree that there’s something weird going on around here. What happened to me and Lexie proves it. But maybe you should stop jumping to all these crazy conclusions about Haden because his last name happens to be Lord. It could be a total coincidence that your sister was friends with someone with that last name before she disappeared. Maybe this guy is related to Haden, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’m friends with you, but that doesn’t mean if I were to go missing, that you’d be suspect number one.” I take Tobin’s hands in mine because I know what I have to say next is going to be hard for him to hear. “Are you even sure this guy looked anything like Haden? Was Lord really his last name? You were only ten years old, Tobin. You may have gotten some of the details wrong.”
I can hear the anger coming off him before I can see it on his face. I know I’ve offended him by questioning his theory about his sister’s disappearance. But someone needed to.
“You think I’d forget the face of the guy who took my sister?”
“You have no proof that he even did.…”
“I do have proof,” Tobin says, pulling his iPhone from his pocket.
The bell rings, indicating that our next classes have started, but neither of us moves. I am sick of our conversations getting interrupted and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve heard everything Tobin has to say. What proof could he possibly have?
“I’m still listening,” I say.
“This is what I wanted to show you at the party.” Tobin hands me his phone. The camera roll is pulled up on the screen. The small thumbnail photos all seem to be pictures of documents. I click on one of them to enlarge it, and then scroll through the others. They all seem to be dossiers—files containing detailed information about certain people. I look more closely at the information. Not just any people. Each dossier, fifteen total, is about a teenage girl, ranging from the ages fifteen to eighteen, and contains details such as name, date of birth, physical description, last known address, date last seen, and reason for leaving Olympus Hills.
“Thank you for your enthusiasm, Tobin. I’ll mark you down. Anyone else?”
Tobin’s hand goes up again.
“Yes?” Mr. Morgan asks.
“I think we should hear from the new student,” he says.
I look up at him. I keep my face expressionless, but I can only hope that the glint of panic doesn’t show in my eyes.
“I’d like to hear what he’s got. And where better than in front of the whole town? He must be something pretty special to have earned a spot in the department without auditioning.”
I sit up straighter. My gaze shifts to Mr. Morgan.
Mr. Morgan looks flustered. I wonder what kind of “requests” Simon made of him to get me in the program. “Well, only if he wants to. It’s completely voluntary.”
Tobin sets his glare on me. The rest of the class follows his lead. “What say you? Are you up for the challenge?”
If it is possible for someone’s expression to say, “You’re not fooling me. I know you don’t belong here. Try to prove me wrong,” all in one narrowed-eyed look, this Tobin guy is pulling it off. It isn’t a physical confrontation, but his challenge is just as serious as any one I’d accepted in the Underrealm.
And, oddly, feels just as dangerous.
Like not accepting will prove to him that I’m not who I claim to be.
“Challenge accepted,” I say.
As other students volunteer to add their names to the performance list, I catch Daphne’s eye for the first time since class started. I want her to see that I am not afraid. Even if, deep down, I really am.
When the bell rings, I pick up my songbook and leave as quickly as I can. I can sense Tobin coming after me, and Daphne only a few steps behind him. I duck around a corner. Leaning against a locker, I listen as Daphne catches up with him.
Chapter thirty-two
DAPHNE
“Stop, Tobin,” I say as I catch up to him in the hallway. “What was all that challenge crap back there? You’re not going to try to punch him again, are you? Because you’d probably get kicked out of the play this time if you do.”
“I just wanted to see where he goes next.”
“To class,” I say. “Like everyone else.”
“Or so we think.”
“I told you, I don’t think Haden is a bad guy.”
Tobin takes me by the elbow and leads me into a small alcove in the hallway, like he’s afraid someone might overhear what he has to say next. “You know there was another attack Friday night?” he says. His voice is low and quiet, but I can hear an edge of accusation in his tone. At first, I think he’s referring to what happened to Lexie in the grove and he’s mad at me for not telling him about it—frankly, I didn’t because I haven’t been able to process what happened yet, myself—but then he goes on: “She was a cater waiter at the party. One of the valets found her unconscious near the lake.”
“Oh no.” I clasp a hand to my face. “What happened?”
“They’re saying heart attack again. But I don’t believe it. And I don’t think it’s any coincidence that Haden was skulking around a party where someone ended up being attacked. I saw him sneaking over my back fence just after we left my mom’s office.”
I shake my head. “Haden didn’t hurt anyone after leaving the party.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he was with me,” I say.
“What?” Tobin’s face goes ashen. “You left the party with him?”
“Not exactly …” I give him a quick overview of what happened to me and Lexie in the grove, even though I know it all sounds insane. But Tobin doesn’t balk at my description of the weird screeching noise, the freaky, swooping shadow thing, and the stormless lightning. In fact, he doesn’t react at all until I get to the part about how Haden showed up just as the weird shadow disappeared. “He helped Lexie and me Friday night. That’s how I know he wasn’t off attacking people.”
“Are you sure?” Tobin asks. “I mean, you said you couldn’t see who, or what, it was that was after Lexie … and then Haden just happened to show up? How do you know he wasn’t the one who was trying to hurt her in the first place?”
I shake my head in frustration. “Because I just do. And I don’t think he had anything to do with what happened to Pear, either. I was mistaken about that. He’s not evil. He’s just different.”
“What, do you like him?” Tobin takes a step back, as if the idea of my liking Haden is repulsive to him. “You have a thing for him even after what I told you about Abbie?”
“No. I definitely don’t have a thing for Haden. Listen, I agree that there’s something weird going on around here. What happened to me and Lexie proves it. But maybe you should stop jumping to all these crazy conclusions about Haden because his last name happens to be Lord. It could be a total coincidence that your sister was friends with someone with that last name before she disappeared. Maybe this guy is related to Haden, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’m friends with you, but that doesn’t mean if I were to go missing, that you’d be suspect number one.” I take Tobin’s hands in mine because I know what I have to say next is going to be hard for him to hear. “Are you even sure this guy looked anything like Haden? Was Lord really his last name? You were only ten years old, Tobin. You may have gotten some of the details wrong.”
I can hear the anger coming off him before I can see it on his face. I know I’ve offended him by questioning his theory about his sister’s disappearance. But someone needed to.
“You think I’d forget the face of the guy who took my sister?”
“You have no proof that he even did.…”
“I do have proof,” Tobin says, pulling his iPhone from his pocket.
The bell rings, indicating that our next classes have started, but neither of us moves. I am sick of our conversations getting interrupted and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve heard everything Tobin has to say. What proof could he possibly have?
“I’m still listening,” I say.
“This is what I wanted to show you at the party.” Tobin hands me his phone. The camera roll is pulled up on the screen. The small thumbnail photos all seem to be pictures of documents. I click on one of them to enlarge it, and then scroll through the others. They all seem to be dossiers—files containing detailed information about certain people. I look more closely at the information. Not just any people. Each dossier, fifteen total, is about a teenage girl, ranging from the ages fifteen to eighteen, and contains details such as name, date of birth, physical description, last known address, date last seen, and reason for leaving Olympus Hills.
