The Institute Page 4

CHAPTER TWO

  It doesn’t even matter that Dad grounded me for the remainder of summer break because as the days pass, the reality of what happened has finally sunk in, and I don’t feel like leaving my bed anyway.

  Although Drew told me I did everything I could, the fact is, Jax is dead. I was there, and I didn’t do anything to help him. He’s no longer alive. I’ll never see him in school again, and I’ll never talk to him again, even though I can’t actually remember a conversation we ever had. We used to have Science class together, but he always hung in the back with the other rugby players and didn’t really get a lot of schoolwork done. He always seemed laid-back and easy-going, always goofing off. Now he’s gone.

  Every time I close my eyes, I see his face, I hear the gurgling sound of his lungs filling with blood with every breath, and I can still feel his cold clammy hand in mine when I felt him slipping away. I’ve been waking up every morning with tears streaming down my face.

  Today, I have to get out of this house, force myself to get out of this bed. I’m going crazy after being cooped up in this house day after day with nothing to think about but Jax. Sneaking out won’t be difficult since Dad will be working on the farm all day, but I don’t actually have anywhere to go.

  If Ebb were still here, I’d be running to her house to distract me from everything. But she’s not here.

  Deciding I definitely need to get out today, I make a break for it, half-walking, half-running to the train station with the planned destination of nowhere. The adrenaline from sneaking out starts flowing through me as I board the train.

  My heart leaps into my throat when I see him. Drew’s here. I freeze, just as I’ve done so many times before. Should I go and sit next to him? Could I? I suddenly wish I had time to run a brush through my untamed hair.

  Drew’s forehead has healed so quickly in the few days that have passed. I can barely even tell where the gash was, and only a faint bruise remains.

  Not knowing what to do, I’m still frozen in the entryway. I start walking towards him, hoping he’ll invite me over so I don’t have to make the first contact. He looks up just in time and our eyes lock. He gives me a half-smile and nods.

  “Where are you off to?” he asks casually as I take my seat next to him.

  “I needed to get out of my house. Dad isn’t exactly thrilled with me right now.” The words fall out of my mouth. Idiot.

  His face flashes to an expression I can only describe as contrite—as if he knows he’s the reason Dad is angry with me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, practically whispering.

  “What about you, where are you going?” I ask, keeping my voice upbeat, trying to move on.

  It takes a while before he responds. “I needed to get out, too. I’ve just been riding the train back and forth all day. It’s been hard, you know.”

  I do know.

  There’s that annoying silence again before I hear myself saying “I’ve wanted to see you.” Did that really just come out of my mouth? “I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about the accident, and I can’t get it out of my mind,” I clarify.

  “Me neither. My mother wants me to talk about it with her, but I just can’t,” he says, shrugging.

  His eyes are glassy, and I reflexively reach for his arm but panic before my hand gets there. What am I doing? I go to pull away before I embarrass myself when he reaches for my hand, too.

  “I’m glad I ran into you,” he says with a half-smile, looking at our now intertwined hands.

  I’m speechless and can feel the hot bright red stain on my face.

  “I bet you wouldn’t have thought that a few months ago,” I say with a smirk. He looks at me, confused. “I wouldn’t exactly say we met under the friendliest of circumstances.”

  “Why, what happened?”

  Oh great, he doesn’t even remember it. Have I been avoiding him all this time for nothing? “I believe your exact words were ‘Your bitch chip obviously hasn’t been affected by your fall.’”

  He still looks confused.

  “It was your first day of school? I fell over and you helped me up. I was so embarrassed and came across quite bitchy and mean, so you called me on it.”

  “Oh, that was you?” he says as recognition finds his face. “I’m sorry for that. I was trying to fit in. It’s hard when you have to be the new kid so often.”

  Tell me about it.

  “My mum has to travel a lot for work, so I’m dragged along with her.”

  I wish that was why we moved a lot. “I know what you mean, we moved around a lot when I was younger, but we’ve been here for a few years now. I don’t think we’ll be moving any time soon,” I say, even though for all I know we could be leaving tomorrow.

  “That’s good.” A smile crosses his lips, but I think he’s trying to suppress it.

  “So are you as excited as I am to be going back to school next week?” I ask, trying to keep up the conversation and distract myself from the fact that he’s drawing circles on my hand with his thumb, making it very hard for me to concentrate on anything.

  “I’m just terrified about all the questions I’m going to get.”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. “Does anyone know about it yet?”

  “Yeah, Jax’s funeral was yesterday, and I know half the class were going, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. People have been trying to call me, but Mum’s telling them I’m not home. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with other people yet.” He hangs his head as if he’s ashamed of the way he feels.

  “Hey, that’s understandable.” I feel like I should console him, as he did for me that night. “I honestly don’t think people will pry too much, it’s not very polite.” Who am I kidding, we live in a small town where everybody knows everybody, of course, they’ll pry, but I’m trying to make Drew feel better, not worse.

  “Wow, you have a lot of faith in the people we go to school with, don’t you?”

  So much for making him feel better.

  “If it’s any consolation, I kind of know what you’re going through.”

  “Because of Ebbodine? I know you were her friend.”

  “Best friend.”

  “And they have no idea what happened to her?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. There’s a few theories, but I don’t really like any of them. At first, they thought she was just out partying. School had just let out, so the police assumed she was ‘cutting loose’ with the other kids for the beginning of summer break. Her mum and I tried to tell them she wouldn’t have done that—not without me—but they wouldn’t listen. After a week went by and her mum still hadn’t heard anything from her, they started to investigate more, but by then her trail had gone cold. Now they think what happened to Hall happened to her.”

  “Who’s Hall?”

  “He disappeared not long before you came to our school. He vanished without a trace a few months ago and was the main topic of gossip before some other scandal popped up to keep people entertained,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Everyone figured Hall must’ve been sent to”—I swallow hard—“the Institute.”

  “But you don’t think he’s there?”

  I shrug. “He could be. But that doesn’t explain the other disappearances.”

  His brows wrinkle in confusion. “Other disappearances?”

  Sighing, I let Drew in on a secret that hardly anyone knows. I don’t even know why I’m opening up to him, but the words seem to just keep coming, and I’ll do anything to move the conversation away from the Institute. “My mother disappeared eight years ago, along with a few others from this town. The disappearances stopped for a few years, then started again. It’s been happening on and off for almost twenty years.”

  “How do you know all this?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly.

  “When Ebb disappeared, I spent every day at her house with her mother, just studying missing person’s reports. The cops wanted her to see if there was anyone else she recognised, and she asked m
e to help.”

  “Was there anyone?”

  “Just Hall. And some student teacher, Chad Williams. I recognised him but couldn’t place where from. He went missing within a few days of Ebb. The cops looked into him, and it turns out he attended our school, went away for a year, then came back to teach there. His dad is Mr. Williams—our English teacher. I ran into him at the grocery store a few weeks back. I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up, but I asked him about Chad, and he started crying. Just FYI, you never want to see a teacher cry. It’s weird, and awkward, and … well, yeah, super awkward.”

  Drew smiles and lets out a little laugh. “Duly noted. I’ll avoid it at all costs.”

  “So anyway, he told me that he believes Chad and Ebbodine were together and have run off. Chad could’ve gotten into a lot of trouble, having a relationship with one of his students.”

  “Do you think that’s what happened?”

  “It’s possible. I mean … it is Ebb. She’s always been the boy-crazy one.”

  “And you’re not like that?”

  “Ha!” Oops. I didn’t mean to make that noise. If only Drew knew the truth. I’m completely inexperienced in that department. I’ve been more focused on the survival of my family than dating. Clearing my throat, I add, “No. I’m not like Ebb in that sense. Far from it.”

  Aaand now I’m blushing. Great.

  “So what do you really think happened to her? I mean … really?” he asks.

  I rub my free hand over my temple. “I don’t know. I’ve spent so many nights wondering what could’ve happened to her, what could’ve happened to my mum. There were eighteen missing person’s reports from this area alone over the last twenty years. That’s got to mean something, right?”

  “They’re definitely not at the Institute?”

  “Ebb isn’t Defective … that I know of anyway.”

  “But would she have disclosed if she was? It’s not exactly something you go around telling everyone.”

  That’s definitely true. No one knows about Shilah apart from Dad and me. “I guess I just wouldn’t expect her to be Defective when she’s so …”

  “Boisterous?” he finishes for me.

  “Exactly. She’s always drawing attention to herself. Why would someone do that if they were Defective?” It’s the quiet ones you should suspect. I should know.

  “To blend in? To make you think she’s not Defective?” he suggests.

  “That’d be a pretty big risk. Do you want know what I really think happened to her? It’s kind of dramatic. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it.”

  “I’m intrigued,” he says, the corner of his lips lifting up.

  Leaning in, our faces just inches apart, I whisper, “Serial killer.” Pulling my head away and sitting back in my chair, I eye his reaction before breaking out into a grin. “I’m totally joking.” Okay, I’m a little bit joking. A small part of me wonders if it could be true.

  Colour seems to find his face again after paling for a second. “Might not be far from the truth,” he mutters. My face drops, my playful mood faltering. “I just … if what you’re saying is right, there could be someone out there picking off people one by one.”

  “I think it’s a bit far-fetched. And wouldn’t the police be investigating? Right now it’s just a bunch of missing person reports, not homicide files.”

  “All I know is, I don’t want to be next.” His eyes go wide as he looks at me with an exaggerated terrified expression.

  Realising he’s joking, I lean forward. “How about this—stick with me and I’ll fend off all the serial killers for you. After all, I’ve already saved your life once, you know.” I nudge him with my elbow to try to put a smile on his face.

  Instead, he leans in closer. “That sounds really good to me.”

  For a moment, I think he may kiss me. My heart starts pounding. I want so badly to just lean forward half an inch and kiss him, but neither of us moves, and he pulls away when the train jerks on the tracks; the moment’s gone.

  It’s been good to get out and get my mind off Jax, but now all I can think about is my mum and Ebb. I need to start heading home before Dad has a heart attack. I’ve lost track of time, and it’s been dark outside for about half an hour now, so my brilliant plan to sneak in and out was definitely not so brilliant.

  Drew and I switch to another train that’s going back the way we came. He never once lets go of my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze when we reach his station, which is two before mine.

  He gives me a half-smile as he stands. “I’ll see you at school next week.”

  He exits the train, and for the rest of the ride, I’m left to ponder just how much trouble I’ll be in when I get home.

  Dad’s sitting on the front porch reading a newspaper when I arrive home, waiting out here so he can yell at me for leaving, I assume. Slowly approaching the steps, I pause at the bottom.

  “Get into any more trouble?” he asks without even lifting his head.

  “No. I just needed a break, and I lost track of time.” I try to sound as innocent as possible. I hope my cheeks aren’t blushing as I think about what I was actually doing.

  “So did you get it out of your system?” he asks, finally looking up at me.

  I tell my face to cool down. I’ve never been good at hiding my guilt.

  “What do you mean?” Damn my shaky voice.

  “Going out. Do you think you can handle being at home without moping around like you have been?” he asks, a small smile on his lips.

  “I can do that,” I say, quickly walking past him and into the house.

  Dad never has been able to stay mad at Shilah or me for long, not since Mum died anyway.

  I’ve slowly gotten used to using the term “dead” when talking about my mother. Even though she’s still technically a missing person, after eight years, I have no false hope of ever finding her. Not alive.

  When she vanished, Shilah and I didn’t understand that she wasn’t coming back. We didn’t understand where she’d gone. As a nine-year-old, I had some understanding that she was dead, but like any child, I still had hope. Dad told me to stay strong for Shilah, but I took it a little too seriously, not allowing myself to break down, not allowing myself to grieve. Dad needed me to protect Shilah, but I didn’t have any closure. I guess I didn’t really accept her death until we held a funeral for her a year after she went missing. That was when I really began to understand that she wasn’t coming back. Without a body, we had to say goodbye to an empty casket, so I guess I still don’t have complete closure.

  I decide to go to bed before Dad or Shilah suspect what I’ve been up to on my little outing. I’m worried the smile on my face will give me away. Not that anything serious happened anyway—we didn’t even kiss. Dad has never outright said that I’m not allowed to date, I just know he wouldn’t approve.