Enshadowed

16

Dark Reflections

Isobel left the boy’s locker room and ran toward the doors leading out into the central hallway, her gym bag jouncing at her side.

She needed to catch up to Brad, to ask him what he knew. What else he’d seen. She needed him to tell her what he’d been talking about, what he’d meant when he’d said—

“Isobel!”

She whirled.

Looking harried, with her glasses askew, Gwen came hurrying after her, bracelets jangling. Behind her scurrying form, through the open doorway of the gym, Isobel could see a small cluster of squad members as they glanced up in their direction.

Isobel shrank back farther into the hall and out of their line of sight.

“Wait!” Gwen called, jogging in Isobel’s direction, the strap of her messenger bag looped across one shoulder. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” she huffed. The bright flush in her cheeks told Isobel that she must have gone searching outside as well. “Did you forget I was picking you up? Why weren’t you in there with the rest of the gladiators?”

Isobel didn’t answer. Turning away, she started down the hall at a faster pace, following the line of lockers, stopping only when she rounded the corner. But Brad wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere.

“Where are you go—oof.” Gwen collided with Isobel’s back, her bracelets clanking like cutlery.

Isobel spun to face her.

“Gwen, I saw him.”

“Who?” Gwen asked. She straightened her glasses, then tugged at her hair, trying to loosen several strands from where they’d become caught between the sets of silver bangles. “Your old flame? Yeah, I saw him too. Just now. Watched him get into the car and ride off with Mizz Scarlett.” Gwen batted her eyes, flipping her hair in imitation of Nikki. “Did you talk to him?”

“No. Gwen.” Isobel gripped her by the shoulders. “I saw Varen.”

Gwen went rigid in Isobel’s grasp, her expression faltering. In an instant, her cheeks lost their rosy hue, giving way to a pasty white. She clutched at Isobel’s wrists, which made her realize that she’d been digging her nails into Gwen’s shoulders.

Isobel let go.

“Where?” Gwen asked. “How?”

“In—in the—” Isobel looked over her shoulder, back in the direction of the gym. Then another memory surfaced through the jumbled murk of her confusion.

The first time Reynolds had appeared to her, hadn’t it been through a mirror?

Isobel grew still, her heart speed doubling as her thoughts returned yet again to the moment in the courtyard after Mr. Swanson’s class. Suddenly there was no longer any doubt in her mind about what she’d seen in the darkened screen of her cell phone.

Reflections . . .

That’s how they find you, Brad had said.

But what had he meant by “they”? And if mirrors really were a link between the dreamworld and reality, then why hadn’t Varen tried to reach her through one before now? And why hadn’t he spoken to her or, at the very least, attempted to convey some kind of message? Why had he only stared at her like that?

“The way he looked at me . . .” Isobel glanced slowly back to Gwen. “It . . . it was as if . . .” She trailed off, suddenly realizing where it was they were standing.

She remembered turning this corner after practice once before. That day she’d found Brad hovering over Varen, threatening him in low tones. And then the way Varen had glared at her, thinking it had been all her doing, that she’d sent Brad after him on purpose.

It seemed like such a faraway moment, but she could never forget the hatred in Varen’s eyes that day. Like two pyres burning in the dark, they had branded themselves into her memory forever. In them, he had shown no fear. Not even anger. Only empty contempt.

Just now, in the locker room . . . why did it feel as though she had relived that moment?

She felt Gwen grab her by the arm, jostling her. “Isobel,” she said, “talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

“The kiss,” Isobel said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in the precise moment they occurred to her.

“Kiss?” Gwen asked. “Whoa, whoa, what kiss? What are you talking about?”

Isobel’s eyes met with Gwen’s, her jaw squaring. “He saw Brad kiss me.”

“SO,” ISOBEL’S DAD SAID AS he reached for the saltshaker. “First day back. How was it?”

Isobel stopped pushing her green beans around on her plate long enough to give her father a cautious glance.