Movers and Fakers Read online

  “Sit, please,” Shira said. Skye sat. Skye’s heart abandoned its tap routine and went into hyperdrive, like it was trying to win an episode of So You Think You Can Dance. She wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack at age fourteen. She pictured her mother’s face crumpling into sobs when she got the news of Skye’s death. Her parents might have to close down Body Alive Dance Studio out of grief. Without the added income, they would have to move out of Westchester and into some horrible place like Yonkers or Riverdale. Maybe someplace even worse!

  While Skye’s thoughts spiraled into the South Bronx, Shira leaned forward in her chair and tapped a bloodred fingernail into the air in front of her. Skye’s jaw dropped as a gold book the size of a sheet of paper suddenly materialized on an invisible screen. The holo-book floated above Shira’s desk, shimmering like a magic coin. “Open. Saturday,” Shira said, sounding bored and tired.

  The holo-book turned into a see-through list of appointments, and Skye tried to read the backward writing.

  “Conference with Michelle postponed to seven fifteen,” Shira said, raising her auburn eyebrows at Skye. Michelle Obama?

  The backward writing dissolved for a moment, then instantaneously appeared with the new appointment highlighted in green toward the bottom. Satisfied, Shira flicked the page with her index finger and sent it flying off the invisible screen.

  Finally, Shira’s dark lenses faced Skye.

  “I brought you here, Skye, because I saw something interesting on the cameras earlier today.”

  Today? Skye retraced her steps from the day and couldn’t think of anything she’d done that was the least bit interesting or unusual, except for telling Syd she wasn’t into him. . . . Had the cameras heard her?

  “I saw Sydney give you some flowers. And a book…”

  “It’s not what it looks like! We aren’t—”

  “Calm down,” Shira said shortly. “I was pleased with what I saw.”

  Huh? Skye was lost. “Oh.”

  “Sydney is a very sensitive boy. And lately, I’ve noticed a change in him. He’s been happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in years. I couldn’t figure out why until I saw his face today on the surveillance system. You have been making him happy, Skye. And I’m all for the two of you dating. Or, hanging out? Isn’t that what you kids call it?”

  “But…,” Skye sputtered. She winced as she heard Syd’s condescending tone, when he’d called her parties stupid, echo in her ears. A shudder passed through her body as she imagined enduring his holier-than-thou speeches about nurturing her passion. The last thing she wanted was to be ordered to hang out with Syd!

  “Forget about the rules. My son has never been this happy, and I’d like it to stay that way. Mirror!” An opaque square popped up where Shira’s appointment book had appeared before, and Shira opened a desk drawer and pulled out a tube of X-Chromosome Queen of Hearts lipstick. She stared at the square briefly as she expertly whisked the color around her mouth, then flicked the mirror square away and pursed her newly matte red lips at Skye. “Just don’t break his heart!”

  But I already broke his heart! Skye had no idea what to do. You couldn’t order a girl to like someone she hated… could you?

  “One more thing,” Shira added as she blotted on a piece of SHIRA BRAZILLE, AMERICA’S ALPHA stationery. “About your weak performance in dance class lately.”

  Skye’s body involuntarily tightened up again before she remembered that if she had just been ordered to date Syd, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Stop giving up every time you have a setback,” Shira continued. “Alphas are resilient. We keep fighting! Stay with it, stay focused, stay confident! That’s how I’ve become the woman I am today. Don’t sabotage yourself. Remember, I have faith in you.” The mogul stood up and walked around her huge desk, pausing to put a hand on Skye’s shoulder. It felt like Icy Hot, cool and jarring at first, but then creepily, invasively warm. Skye willed herself not to look up—seeing Shira this close to her would freeze more than just her shoulder.

  The door to Shira’s office opened and Fiona stuck her head inside. “Shira, your ride is here.”

  “I’ll be watching you,” Shira said over her shoulder as she followed Fiona out. “Do great things!”

  Ugh! Feeling dizzy and disoriented by Shira’s one-two punch, Skye watched the mogul’s back as she strode away in a pair of stiletto boots. When she was gone, Skye stared at her strong, slim hands, wondering how everything she had in Westchester—the freedom to dance her way, the freedom to crush on whatever boy she liked, the freedom to watch TV, the freedom to be in the same room as her parents, even—had slipped out of them. Blinking back tears, Skye stood up and walked around the Australia-shaped desk to look miserably out the window at Shira’s ocean view. She pressed her nose to the glass the way she always did as a kid at the dance studio, when her biggest fear was that nothing exciting would ever happen to her, that all her days would unfold predictably, ad infinitum. How she longed for some of that predictability now! As the glass fogged up with her exhalations, she imagined her graceful, elegant mother was standing on the other side of the window, watching over her.

  “Help me, Mommy,” she breathed, wiping a tear from the tip of her nose before it landed on Shira’s pristine blood-red carpet. “What do I do now? How can I do great things when every choice I make is the wrong one?”

  How could being under the thumb of the most controlling woman on earth possibly turn her into a Leader of Tomorrow or make her an Empowered Female? Skye wiped the condensation off Shira’s window, revealing not Natasha Flailenkoff but a wide expanse of blue-green lawn, and in the distance, a fake, indifferent ocean.

  All constructed like a chess board by a woman who thought every move was hers to decide, for whom everyone was a mere pawn to her queen. Skye shivered as a hopeless laugh escaped her lips. She knew enough to see when she had been beaten.

  Checkmate.

  25

  JACKIE O

  LIVING ROOM

  SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25TH

  9:51 P.M.

  Flat on her back in bed again and surrounded by her closest frenemies, Allie waited for Thalia to cue up tonight’s PowerPoint of inspirational images.

  “Prepare to be inspired,” Thalia murmured as she manipulated some files on the touchscreen in the wall at the back of the room. She wondered what Thalia thought about her and the other Jackie O’s—was she jealous of the girls who might someday be titans of industry, inspirational leaders, famous in the arts or sciences? Or did she pity them for being under the pressure, for being so willing to stab one another in the back? As if Thalia could read her mind, her golden eyes came to rest on Allie’s blue ones. She smiled and put a long finger to her lips, even though Allie was pretty sure she hadn’t been talking. It was like Thalia knew how loud Allie’s thoughts were inside her head. Her mind had been racing all evening like an out-of-control bubble train. Ever since the showdown with Charlie at the Thinker’s grotto, she had officially jumped the track.

  Allie made an effort to take a deep, cleansing breath like they did in yoga class. Clear your mind of clutter, she told herself in the voice of Samsara, the gorgeous yogini who taught Alpha yoga and who recently demonstrated her ability to crack walnuts with her glutes. Stop drinking the hater-ade!

  Settling back into her pillows and sighing loud enough for Charlie to hear, Allie stared at tonight’s slideshow, hoping she would find some inspiration in it but doubting the possibility. Charlie, Triple, Skye, and AJ all lay in their beds preparing to watch, but everyone seemed distracted and only half present. Or was Allie just projecting, like Thalia was about to?

  The PowerPoint began with the words FAITH IN YOUR FUTURE, written in the slanted Edwardian Script font Shira favored because it was both feminine and strong, just like the Alphas themselves. The phrase somersaulted across the darkened wall of the Jackie O house, followed by a series of photos with other phrases popping up on top of them. First came
war orphans in Darfur, smiling and holding hands in a depressing-looking refugee camp (THE MOST POWERFUL HOPE IS OFTEN BORN OF TRAGEDY, read the message at the bottom), then Brazillian dancers at a carnival parade (STRIVE TO CREATE JOY WHEREVER POSSIBLE), then Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr. (NEVER THINK ONE PERSON CANNOT MAKE A DIFFERENCE!), Sasha and Malia Obama in the White House vegetable garden with Bo (YOU ARE THE NEXT GENERATION OF LEADERS!), and—wait, was that Mercedes, the model with lupus from America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 2? (DON’T LET ROADBLOCKS STAND IN THE WAY OF YOUR SUCCESS!). And, ohmuhgud, a picture of Jamie Lynn Spears holding her baby in their “inspirational” slideshow! (BUT TRY TO BE A KID FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN!) Allie smiled, assuming this was Thalia’s un-Shira-approved way of spicing up the guided meditations. Knowing these slideshows were preachy, Thalia had found a few surefire shots to keep the Jackie O’s from rolling their eyes and filing their nails through the whole exercise (or in Triple’s case, from using the opportunity to catch some early z’s).

  After the pictures faded out, Charlie’s mom’s British-accented voice played over an Enya song, imploring the girls to “Visualize positive outcomes. See it! Feel it! Live it! All will be manifested and your wishes will be granted. Faith in the future will take you where you need to go.”

  Allie involuntarily emitted a loud, incredulous snort. Faith in her future—ha! “Allie, Václav Havel said that the most profound doubt is what gives birth to new certainties, and that hopelessness is the soil that nourishes human hope.” Thalia smiled serenely.

  If that were true, Allie was fertilizing enough hope for an army. As the last strains of Enya faded out and the screen went dark, Thalia added a final aphorism for the whole room. “Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step. Martin Luther King, Jr.” Then she quietly padded out of the room.

  “Faith in our futures? I thought our futures were now.” AJ yawned.

  “I used to have faith. Faith in my friend. A lot of good that did me.” Allie glared at Charlie.

  Charlie popped up onto her elbows and glared back. She looked like she had been crying; her eyes looked puffier than Jordin Sparks in a stretch leather dress. “I had faith that telling my friend I didn’t know she was on the beach would mean something to her. A lot of good that did me.”

  Skye interjected, not one to be out-whined. “I had faith that Syd would be able to live without me. A lot of good that did me!”

  Triple reached up and yanked off her eye mask so everyone could see the big brown windows to her soul roll up in their sockets. “I had faith that I’d get roommates who weren’t so obsessed with their stupid problems that they couldn’t even focus on why we’re here!” She looked around at each one of the Jackie O’s like they were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

  “Okay, Shira.” Skye’s eyes narrowed into catlike slits.

  “Yeah,” piped up AJ, surprising everyone. AJ didn’t usually find much to agree with Skye about. “Give it a rest, Andrea.”

  Using Triple’s real name was always guaranteed to make her pout. She pulled her eye mask back down and turned away from the group. Allie caught herself smiling at AJ and had to admit it was nice of her to stand up for everyone and make Triple stop judging everyone for once.

  AJ’s aPod beeped, and she opened it up to read a text. She slumped over as she read, and when she looked up, her expression was as flat as her voice. “Well, I had faith that Darwin liked me.” She tossed her aPod onto the floor, sending it skittering under her bed. She picked up her guitar and started strumming a blues riff, her black hair falling over her face and hiding what Allie was surprised to see looked like real confusion and actual sadness.

  Allie’s aPod beeped from its charger on her gum-strewn nightstand. She grabbed it and quickly changed its setting to vibrate when she saw the text was from Charlie, who lay only three feet away.

  Charlie: I bumped into Darwin on the beach. Told him how great the real Allie was. The text to AJ must mean he likes you!!! You did it!!!

  Allie’s face flushed immediately. Could Charlie be trusted?

  Allie: Why should I believe u?

  Charlie: I can’t make u trust me. But I’m telling the truth! Always have, always will.

  Charlie sat up in bed and stared at Allie with a huge, goofy grin that made her look like a Powerpuff Girl. It was the kind of smile you could only muster if you were truly happy for someone, the kind of grin you only gave a true friend. Allie mirrored a tentative smile back. If what she said was true and Allie dropped her guard once and for all, she might get her best friend back and rekindle things with Darwin all on the same day.

  Allie: Sorry I had the wrong idea about the cameras. It’s been hard for me 2 trust. 4give & 4get?

  Charlie: Deal.

  Allie: Deal.

  Allie’s heart fluttered a little at the thought of everything working out neatly, just like at the end of a rom-com. What was it she had told Charlie earlier that week? If it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t the end? Soon, she’d find something she was good at, a talent that would prove she belonged at Alpha Academy for more than just sharing a name with Allie J. And once that happened, her mall would be officially open for business.

  26

  SCIENCE COMPLEX

  MARIE CURIE INVENTOR’S LAB

  MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 27TH

  9:30 A.M.

  Charlie stood at her workstation and smoothed out the wrinkles in her platinum coveralls, smiling at the cluster of nine other inventor-tracked Alphas and their mentor, Dr. Irina Gorbachevsky. She looked at the curved recycled-glass wall of the lab before continuing with her presentation, rereading the slogan etched there as if for the first time:

  Dream lofty dreams, and as you dream, so shall you become.

  She clicked one of her makeshift teleportation pods closed. The pods were made from two metal garbage cans Charlie had stolen from the Pavilion, but even though they might look like junk, they worked perfectly. Grinning with the excitement of scientific discovery, she typed in a command on her aPod, which she’d rigged to serve as the pod’s remote control. “Okay, so everyone saw me put my bracelet in, right?”

  The other girls each nodded solemnly, and Charlie pushed ENTER on the keypad. The pods of Charlie’s machine began to rattle and then hummed simultaneously like a dial tone on a landline.

  Nine coverall-clad inventor Alphas whispered excitedly as their eyes followed Charlie across her workstation to the second pod.

  “Mega awesome,” murmured Yvette, a cyber-punk with spiky blue-black hair and an eyebrow piercing who had been working for months on developing a pheromone-heightening perfume that would attract only psychologically compatible boys. “Charlie’s on a roll.”

  “And now…” Charlie raced over to the second pod, her heart revving with excitement over her new project. With any luck, she might be just a few years away from inventing a working teleportation device. And if that happened, she would be set for life. Shira or no Shira.

  She unlatched the second pod and smiled down at her cameo bracelet glinting up at her. It was the one with the empty spot where Darwin’s picture used to go. She may not have a soul mate anymore, but she might just have a future. She picked it up and passed it around to the group.

  “As you can see, the bracelet made the trip perfectly intact. I’m feeling good about inanimate objects now, and I decided to try a plant a few days ago. So far the plant is doing well. I need to do some molecular testing to be sure….” She stroked the leaves of the ficus she’d transported in the teleportation pod, looking around at the nodding heads of her fellow inventors. One of her mechanical butterflies sat on a leaf, its recycled aluminum wings fluttering as if it were giving her a round of applause.

  “Wonderful work as always, Charlie. Highly exciting.” The bespectacled Dr. Gorbachevsky nodded. Dr. G had two PhD’s and was a pioneer in nanotechnology and string theory, and Charlie adored her. Dr. G blinked her rai
sin-colored eyes and grinned at her star pupil. “Let us know when you get the DNA testing done and then we’ll talk about trying a larger life-form. A fish, perhaps.”

  “Nice,” effused Lydia, a food scientist with a passion for cloning cuts of meat. “Let me know if you want to try throwing a steak in there—I can safety-test it after.”

  “Great.” Charlie grinned. The lab was like a cathedral, built to inspire and awe future inventors who already worshipped technology, and she was a willing convert.

  “Let’s move on to Yvette’s pheromones,” directed Dr. G. “Keep working, Charlie.” As the girls followed Dr. G to the next workstation, Charlie’s laptop blinked with a chat request from Bee.

  Bee: Time to chat, love? Missing you—how are things? Fill your mum in!

  Charlie sat down on a stool and her fingers hovered above her keypad. Where to start? She hadn’t chatted with Bee all week, and so much had happened! She looked down at her mood-influenced nail polish, which she’d licked just before her presentation. Her nails were a calm iridescent blue, perfectly reflecting her calm, peaceful state of mind.

  Charlie: Hi, Mom! Things are good here. We lost a few more girls….

  Charlie tallied up the numbers in her head. So far, twenty-two girls had already been kicked off the island. Twenty-one once you factored in that Ivy Lambert was a fake. And more would probably be going soon. Shira wanted to find the one girl with enough potential and smarts to be as successful as she was, but there wasn’t room for too many like Shira in the world. Charlie wondered if two would be chosen, or even three. She lapsed into a fantasy where Allie, Skye, and herself were the three left standing on the island by the end of the school year and were given Shira’s blessing to create a new multimedia empire they would run together.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself. One day at a time.

  Bee: But you’re still there. And I got a progress report that said you earned a ride in a PAP and contributed to fixing a technology glitch!

  Charlie grinned, remembering the look on Shira’s face after she’d fixed the cameras. Bee didn’t need to know that she’d also been the one to break them. Not now, when the lab felt more like a home than any of the hotel rooms and temporary apartments she’d lived in with Bee, and her workspace was full of things she’d created all on her own—not a bit of it belonged to Shira. And now that Allie had forgiven her, the future was all theirs.