“Where were you first period, Krystal?” Heather asked the newcomer.
“I overslept,” she said, shrugging off the comment. She pulled a bag of apple slices from her purse and munched on one.
“That’s all you’re having?” Ally asked, crunching into a grape tomato.
“I’m not hungry,” Krystal said.
“Since when are you not hungry?” Heather accused.
“Since when is this pick on Krystal day?” Krystal snapped back glaring at Ally.
Ally matched the glare, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in high arches. “PMSing, are we?”
Heather stifled a laugh.
“Whatever,” Krystal said, pulling out her phone and scrolling through it.
Ally rolled her eyes at Heather and continued to eat her salad.
“Can you believe it’s only a week until our last Spring Dance? I’m so bummed we are leaving school, like, forever,” Heather whined.
“I’m not,” Ally said flippantly. “I’m done with this place and these people.”
Heather gasped making Ally grin. “Obviously not you guys.”
“Or Seth,” Heather said in a sing-song voice. “Speak of the devil.”
I followed their gaze to a group of boys entering the cafeteria. Their voices rang over the already loud conversations of the room.
A blond boy caught my attention. His hair was shaved close to his head and his green eyes lit up as if his entire world existed for the girl at this table. The flurry of conversations that had focused on Ally earlier turned to this boy.
He sauntered over to the table, while his friends headed for the food, and placed a tender kiss on Ally’s lips. “Hey babe. Sorry I couldn’t bring you to school this morning. Dad sent me out on a delivery.”
“It’s fine,” she said, feeding him a cucumber from her plate.
Krystal crumpled up her now empty plastic bag and pushed out her chair, scraping it against the linoleum.
“Where are you going?” Ally said.
Heather and Seth looked at Krystal.
“I forgot my Algebra book,” she snapped. “Why do you care?”
“I have mine,” Seth said, lifting his backpack. “We can share.”
“My homework is in the book,” she said, standing up and stomping toward the door.
“Drama,” Ally whispered to Heather.
Seth’s friends squeezed in at the table and I jumped out of the way before any of them touched me.
Moving back to the window next to Cooper I said, “So you just sit here all day and watch her?”
“Pretty much.”
Maybe this Guard job wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. “I guess it’s entertaining, though. I feel like I’m watching a soap opera.”
Cooper laughed. “Don’t be fooled. She’s a lot smarter than she gives herself credit for.”
I’d believe that when I saw it.
I meandered to the back window, staring out at the football field. I snuck a look in the courtyard but didn’t see that guy again. Maybe my eyes had been playing tricks on me. Or maybe a Guard was messing with me. No doubt Aaron had put him up to it. A man on a riding lawn mower rode across the field several times.
That was one reason I didn’t want to be Recycled. I looked at all the students in the room, with their insecurities and bleak futures ahead of them. There were probably a few that would make their lives into something but the rest might as well be the groundskeeper spending each day doing the same boring work.
Definitely not for me.
By Ally’s sixth class, I was itching to get out of there. I assured Cooper I didn’t feel the True Soul around.
“Are you sure?” he asked for the third time.
“Yes,” I said calmly.
He remained skeptical but I left the room before he could ask me again to wander down the hallway, getting a better look inside the classrooms. After eating, the kids were like zombies, barely awake as their teachers droned on about things they’d probably never use after high school. Reason number two not to be Recycled.
Further down the hall, music poured from one of the classrooms. I peeked inside to discover an art studio where six students stood in front of easels, painting. The teacher was in a flowing purple and green dress, her long scraggly blonde hair wild across her back. She swayed to the music and stopped at each student, offering encouragement. The atmosphere was lighter in this room, unlike the other classroom. I followed the teacher’s path, examining each student’s work. Overall, their talent surpassed my expectations for a high school art class. Brightly colored paint strokes depicted the fruit bowl at the center of the room.
I looked around for the teacher; she stood next to a girl separated from the group. What made her so special? I deviated to her spot. White cords hung down from her ears and into her pocket. Her long brunette hair was tied at the nape of her neck and bobbed as she mixed her paint. She popped one out and listened to her teacher.
“So creative,” the teacher said in her breathy voice. “Is this another one of your dreams?”
The girl nodded.
“Keep it up; I think this is the piece we should enter into the showcase,” the teacher said, flouncing away.
I stepped as close as I could to the girl without touching her. Her painting depicted a classroom, not unlike any of the other ones in the school. The brush strokes were precise but the classroom looked out of focus, blurry even. But those desks and chairs weren’t the focal point; it was the person standing at the back of the room. I moved closer to get a better look. He was dressed in head-to-toe black, his face hadn’t been painted in yet, but his sandy blond hair looked familiar.
This girl, somehow, had seen and by memory painted Cooper.
The bell rang and, unlike the rest of the classrooms, none of these kids moved. I knew Cooper would be looking for me, so I tore my eyes away from the painting and into the hallway.
Maybe he had appeared corporeal at some point? But he would never have done it inside the school, at least not dressed for regulation Guard duty. I’d mention it to him later.
I found Cooper and another Guard following Ally down a hallway on the third floor.
Cooper raised his eyebrows.
“Still nothing!” I said. Half the kids in the hallway were taller than me. What did they eat for breakfast? Growth hormones?
I avoided their touch but one particularly rushed boy passed through me. My soul turned ice-cold. I needed to get out of here.
I weaved through the rest of the kids and down the front stairs as quickly as I could. The first floor was nearly deserted so I walked down it and found myself outside the school gym. A few students stood in the middle of the space, bouncing basketballs.
“Mags?” a voice called.
I turned to see a shadow move into an open office across the hall from the gym. Something about the nickname was familiar. I couldn’t remember anyone ever calling me that, yet my soul responded by moving toward the office.
Inside, a desk took up most of the small space. Mounds of paperwork were strewn across its surface. Team photos were tacked to the walls in no particular order. Suddenly the door creaked behind me and I whirled around.
I bumped into someone’s chest. “Cooper?” I said, taking in the boy’s face.
Okay,