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  She broke a switch off a cottonwood tree growing out of a jagged clump of sandstone and began to think aloud, waving the thorny branch as she gesticulated.

  “Okay. Time for plan B, or is it C? Whatever. We need to figure something out before it gets any hotter up here. So here’s us,” Charlie made a little star in the dust by Allie’s dirt-caked foot. “And here’s the island.” She drew a circle a few feet away, to represent the significant distance they’d traveled.

  “Super helpful, Charlie,” Allie eye-rolled. “Are we going to animate ourselves back to school?”

  Charlie’s brown eyes met Allie’s navy ones for a tense moment, but she decided to ignore her for now and concentrate on thinking up a plan. She could work on dismantling Allie’s negativity later. “Diagrams help me think,” she said simply. “I wonder how many miles we are from the nearest town. If we can get a radio signal again, then maybe we can get help from one of the Death Valley towns nearby…”

  “And we can borrow a car and drive to an airport?” Skye interjected helpfully, taking a few steps around the map and pulling her white-blond waves back into a high bun.

  Charlie nod-smiled at Skye, happy that at least one of the girls was riding the wave of her thoughts to the next logical step. “Exactly. And then maybe we can charter a plane to Alpha Island.”

  “Who’s paying?” Allie groaned. “All we have are aBucks.” aBucks could be used to shop at the smoothie bar and the boutiques and spas on Alpha Island, but they were useless in the real world.

  Charlie stopped pacing to wind a mahogany strand of hair around her finger. Then she remembered the string of numbers she’d committed to memory two years ago. Numbers found only on Shira’s AmEx Black card. “Shira,” she said emphatically, crossing her arms. “Trust me.”

  Perfect. A real, honest-to-Alphas plan. Charlie giggled deliriously, suddenly feeling almost manic in her excitement to get going and meet Shira’s challenge head-on.

  “Trust you? If this is such a great plan, why did it take you so long to think of it?” Allie narrowed her navy blue eyes at Charlie and shook her head. She was still sitting hunched over Charlie’s aPod. “Maybe because none of it will work.”

  Charlie felt her cheeks grow even hotter than they already were. Why did Allie insist on being so negative? Did she think the best plan they had was to sit on this hilltop until buzzards pecked out their eyeballs and their status as Betas would be forever cemented? She looked down and noticed her hands were shaking.

  “Okay, Al. You have the floor,” Charlie said, her voice shaking with suppressed fury. “We’re all ears.” She was starting to feel like she might start screaming and never stop. Being stranded with Darwin was hard enough, but it was ten times worse now that he was gone. She thought back to their argument over the GPS and mentally kicked herself for being so short-tempered. At least Darwin was logical. Allie was the exact opposite of him: emotional instead of methodical, idea-negating instead of generating.

  “Why should I bother telling you what I think?” Allie piped up at last, a dejected pout blooming on her chapped lips. “You didn’t want my help before. You practically laughed when I mentioned my LOST idea, and then it worked! You never give me any credit—”

  “That is so not true,” Charlie interrupted, her voice strangled with frustration as she began to pace the plateau. “I thought your idea to try the GPS up here was great.” But now I think you’re just wasting my time, she didn’t add. Why was Allie being such a total brat?

  Charlie thought back to a few weeks ago, when she’d bent over backward to make sure Allie and Mel would fall for each other, how hard she always worked to build Allie up when it came to her self-confidence. She shook her head bitterly when she thought of all those wasted hours. Because this—this complaining black hole of a person, the worst version of Allie—was all she got in return.

  A bitter chuckle escaped Charlie’s lips, her brown hair falling into her eyes as she whirled around to face Allie again. She paused for a moment and then unleashed a barb she knew would sting. “You’re just mad because Mel didn’t wait for you before he got on the plane.”

  Allie’s navy blue eyes narrowed to slits, and she finally got up from her seat on the ground. “You’re right, I am. How lame of me to have feelings! I should be a robot like you and make things easier on everyone.”

  “Guys. Enough!” Skye neatly inserted herself between Charlie and Allie, waving her arms in horizontal, air-traffic-controller motions to try to get them to take it down a notch. “Everyone’s tired. And hungry. And thirsty. And filthy. Allie, you had a great idea, and so did Charlie. There’s room in this giant kitty litter box for both of you to be right.”

  “I can’t listen to this anymore,” Allie cried. She whirled around and flounced off like Demi Lovato fleeing from rumors of rehab.

  “Me either, actually,” Charlie sighed. She took a closer look at Skye. With her platinum hair falling out of its bun and flowing wild down her shoulders and her gold flight suit knotted at the sleeves, Skye looked like a backup dancer in an ancient Paula Abdul video. Why had she waited so long to defend Charlie against Allie’s accusations? Maybe all the Jackie O’s were showing their true colors. Skye hadn’t contributed a thing today besides throwing herself at Taz.

  “I wouldn’t get involved, Skye,” Charlie said. “I mean, you haven’t been involved all day… why start now?”

  Skye looked more wounded than Saving Private Ryan as she whirled from Charlie to Allie. “You two are being so, so… lame. Why all this petty fighting? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be Alphas?”

  “I am,” Charlie muttered, an unfamiliar viciousness flowing through her veins. “But I’m not sure about the rest of you.”

  Skye’s teal eyes widened, then narrowed in fury. “Wow, Charlie. Tell me how you really feel.”

  And then Charlie lost track of who was yelling at whom. What had started as a two-way spat quickly spiraled into a three-person hate-a-palooza. The fight was like quicksand: Once a few harsh words were uttered, it was hard not to get sucked in deep.

  “Okay, you all need to take about five chamomile-melatonin supplements, STAT!” AJ might be small, but as a singer, she knew how to project. She was only five foot one, but now she towered over the three O’s on a nearby boulder, the fingers of one of her tiny hands poised to pluck the spines off a saguaro cactus.

  Charlie, Skye, and Allie all went quiet, gaping at AJ like she had just beamed down from outer space. The diminutive hippie had been keeping such a low profile, it was easy to forget about her.

  Now that she had their attention, AJ apparently had a few things to get off her A-cup chest. “Life cannot be planned,” she sighed serenely.

  Charlie put a hand to her exasperated face and wished for shade, wondering how AJ didn’t collapse under the heat of her green crocheted hat. Did AJ’s vitamin supplements cool her from the inside?

  “In this crazy universe, you can’t get bogged down by rules and restrictions, by what should and should not be,” AJ sermonized like she was Ashton Kutcher talking about Kabbalah. “You have to take life as it comes and challenge yourself in new ways. Which is exactly why I put veggie oil in the fuel tank.”

  Hold up a second, Taylor not-so-Swift.

  “What?” Charlie shouted, her voice echoing. Her hands flew up to her ears, cupping them as if she couldn’t possibly have heard correctly. Everything in the bright desert suddenly grew shadowy and quiet, and for a moment all she could hear was the sound of her own blood boiling.

  “I said we don’t know what the universe—” AJ offered lightly, oblivious to her weighty admission.

  “Not that, you green goblin!” Allie cried, her hands in fists on her flight-suited hips and the color drained entirely from her face. “She meant the part about putting french-fry grease in our fuel tank.”

  “Oh, that?” AJ giggled. “I was trying to reduce our carbon emissions. It was kind of stinky but it was free of carcinogens and—”

  “Stinky?
” Skye snapped. “We all could have died.”

  “We still might!” Allie snapped.

  Charlie swallowed hard, tuning everyone out. If she stayed in this conversation another minute, she might hurl. She couldn’t even look at AJ right now. In fact, she couldn’t look at any of them. As Allie and Skye talked over one another in a competition for who could yell at AJ louder, Charlie rode a tsunami-sized wave of anger. Her heart racing with anger, self-pity, and an urgent need to be alone. “I can’t think with all of you screaming!” Surprising even herself, she whirled around on her gladiator heel and took off down the side of the mountain.

  “You’re leaving?” Allie called.

  Charlie just nodded and kept going.

  “I’m out, too!” Skye shouted.

  “Same!” Allie yelled.

  “You’ll all thank me in twenty years when this place isn’t three degrees hotter than it is now,” AJ announced.

  Seconds later, their words stopped echoing. The only sounds now were distant squawks and the shuffling of Charlie’s throbbing feet. She turned to sneak a peek at the plateau and discovered all three Jackie O’s were gone. At least she wouldn’t have to babysit anymore. Finally, she could focus on getting back to Alpha Island. It was for the best.

  She pictured herself walking on the pink sand of Alpha Beach hand in hand with Darwin, telling him about this moment. Pictured herself saying Best decision I ever made and shaking her head at the uselessness of her former friends.

  Placing a dusty hand above her forehead and scanning the empty vista below for signs of life, Charlie felt a stubborn surge of hope kicking in her chest. The sooner she got away from the dead weight dragging her down, the faster she would figure out how to fly home.

  13

  THE MOJAVE DESERT

  THE EDGE OF DEATH

  NOVEMBER 3RD

  2:30 P.M.

  Skye took a tiny sip from the three inches of water remaining in her A-shaped aluminum canteen, willing herself not to chug the whole thing. Once empty, there would be nothing left to fill it up. Sipping modestly, Skye could almost feel the water sloshing around in her stomach, which had been gurgling angrily for several hours now like a pissed-off friend that wouldn’t stop nagging her. A lot like Allie and Charlie, actually. You’re the only company I’ve got out here now. Skye sighed, patting her abs and wishing she could appease the demands of what was underneath them.

  How long can people go without eating, anyway?

  Skye pondered Gandhi, whose fasts lasted months. But Gandhi had shade, spectators, and a cause he believed in. The only thing motivating Skye was… ugh. Why was it so hard to heat in the think? Theat in the hink? I mean, think in the heat?

  Just then, she heard a slight rustling in the brush. Training her eyes on a trembling movement amidst the scrubby desert flora, Skye stiffened. Could it be a rabbit? Maybe Skye could channel her inner Artemis and hunt her own food! Not that she could ever imagine herself eating a cute little bunny. But wearing it as a scarf after nightfall? With AJ gone, fur was finally an option.

  She made a mental inventory of what she had on her—the canteen, her aPod, a cellophane wrapper from a long-finished BrazilleBlast bar, and a tube of lip gloss. Not exactly quality hunting gear. The rustling came again, and Skye began to search the ground for sticks she could use to stab the rabbit, hoping her dancer’s reflexes were good enough to outrun a small mammal.

  But then she caught sight of the scurrying creature. It was a useless gray desert mouse, no bigger than her thumb. Poor skinny thing. But maybe it would taste okay? Didn’t everything weird just taste like chicken anyway? Just as Skye began calculate if the calories burned while trying to catch it would do more harm than good, it disappeared into a hole beneath a the spiny barrel of a cactus.

  Skye shook her head and swallowed a moan of frustration. No point crying over lost mice. She knew she’d never have the guts to eat it anyway, even if she could catch it and cook it. Skye pulled out her aPod, vainly hoping for a signal she knew wasn’t there. The reflection off the phone’s shiny surface almost blinded her as she held it up to the sun, waving it around in a circle and praying to the cell-reception gods to give her a few bars. But the bars refused to appear.

  Ugh! What good was technology if you couldn’t use it when you needed it most? Skye felt hopeless tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Bar-less and scarf-less, she staggered over to a boulder and wedged herself into a tiny patch of shade beside it, telling herself she would just rest for a minute and regroup.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d been angry enough to try her luck alone in the wilderness. But even more surprising was the fact that Charlie had deserted them in the first place. Charlie had always been the most even-keeled and reliable of the Jackie O’s. Yes, she had an intense side, but even in the extreme conditions of the desert, Charlie’s behavior was totally shocking and completely out of character.

  Skye sighed as she thought about it more. This game Shira had made them all play—it had changed them. They’d come to Alpha Academy to better themselves. When did it become about tearing everyone else down?

  Skye thumbed the photo storage app. Instantly, a picture Taz took of himself making a face while stirring a pot of baked beans last night appeared on her screen. His ice-blue eyes were crossed and he was sticking his tongue out, but he still looked totally hawt. It became more obvious than Heidi Montag’s chin implant that Taz wasn’t the one for her. All her sleepless nights, all her agonizing over how to make him see the real Skye after she’d dated his brother—all of it was for nothing. Did he really run onto the plane without her? How could he have left her like that? Everyone acted like Taz was a fearless superhero, just because he liked to fly planes and pilot boats. And nobody had invested more in the Taz brand than Skye. But just like her J. Crew ballet flats, his reputation was built on hype—guaranteed to fall apart under stress. Skye deleted the picture on her phone, feeling a nauseating pleasure in watching the image get sucked into the little Dumpster icon on her screen. She stood up and plucked a few prickly burrs from her butt. However good it felt to toss Taz out of her phone, it would feel even better to tell him off in person. She just hoped she’d get the chance.

  Her head cleared after her break in the shade, Skye began walking again, this time with more determination. Her stomach growled and she started playing a game to distract herself, making a mental list of the first thing she’d like to eat when she got back to civilization. No way would she touch one of those gooey protein shakes Shira’s food scientists had designed for Alpha dancers. Vomit! No, Skye thought as she trudged forward, her salivary glands activating at the thought of food. What I really want is a burger. With shoestring fries. Make that a cheeseburger, extra pickles, mayo, lettuce, big, fluffy brioche bun…

  But just then, the smell of real food cut her burger fantasy short. Her nostrils flared, sucking up the smell like a Dyson on a mission. She stuck her sunburned nose in the air and sniffed hard. Ohmuhgud. It was too good to be true. Was she hallucinating? Was she already dead? Or could there actually be sausage, fresh bread, and—drool!—baked beans cooking somewhere?

  Skye could have wept with joy as the smell grew stronger with each step. It was real food, she was positive. Her smile expanded and her mouth watered as she followed her nose, quickening her pace, drawn like Pavlov’s dog to the delicious aroma.

  Baked beans and sausage weren’t exactly a dancer’s diet, but she didn’t care. After all, she would probably never see Mimi again.

  14

  THE MOJAVE DESERT

  STARVATION CENTRAL

  NOVEMBER 3RD

  3:12 P.M.

  A slight breeze had kicked up in the soundless sauna of the desert, and Allie planned to use it as a navigational tool to figure out where the delicious food smell was coming from. She licked her index finger, wincing at the bitter taste of Purell, and held it out in front of her face to see which side of her finger the air cooled. Once she knew which way was upwind, she’d be ab
le to locate whatever was seducing her nostrils. For what seemed like forever, the smell of bread and meat had been assaulting her, leading her along the desert floor like a police bloodhound sniffing for clues to a murder. Only instead of solving a crime, Allie wanted to do the time. With a plate. And a fork. And whatever sausage-and-bun combo it was she was smelling. But all she saw in the distance was the harsh, unwelcoming desert, the ever-present sun beating down on its floor. As Allie walked, veering left whenever possible, she considered the fact of Mel getting on the plane without her. The image of his butt disappearing into the cargo hold played over and over again, like a Black Eyed Peas hit on repeat in the cardio room of the 24-Hour Fitness in Santa Ana. She mulled over Mel’s actions for the hundredth time that day, swallowing sausage-activated drool accumulating in her mouth.

  Now that she had some time to process it, she had to admit it wasn’t totally out of character for Mel to abandon her and run onto the plane. Of the whole group, he was by far the most terrified and uncomfortable in the wilderness. He belonged on a runway or in an atelier, not on a desert trail. Like a Lipizzaner stallion, those beautiful white horses bred for Spanish royalty, Mel was too pretty and too sheltered to cope in rugged conditions.

  Allie shrugged her shoulders and reminded herself that whatever Mel had done, he still had a big heart. She wasn’t ready to give up on him yet. Not that it would matter, since it wasn’t like she’d be back at Alpha Academy anytime soon. Now that she was walking solo, the chances of her successfully hoofing it back to Shira’s island were smaller than ever.

  To keep her growling stomach and drooling mouth from taking over and making her lose the trail of yummy food, Allie decided to play a game of What Will I Buy. Usually, she played this game the night before heading out for a daylong mall excursion, but this time it was harder. She had to project to a point in the future after Shira’s twisted contest was over and she was back in Santa Ana. She didn’t want to think about Alphas clothes, even if they were state-of-the-art and made of the finest materials she’d ever worn. She saw herself in her mind’s eye walking through the arches of the Santa Ana Towne Centre Mall and tried to imagine what her very first purchase would be.