Free Liv, Forever by Amy Talkington Page B

he’s related to Malcolm?”
    Gabe scowled at me. “Duh.”
    “It says ‘V.P.’ at the bottom. Was he like vice president of the school?”
    “Guys like that aren’t
vice
anything. They’re presidents. I bet it stands for Victors President.”
    “What’s Victors?”
    His eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”
    “Come on, I’m new, remember?”
    “The Victors. It’s a secret society. And your friend Malcolm belongs.”
    I winced. “What do they do?”
    “I don’t know. Like I said, it’s secret. You think they’d tell me?” He shook his head, disgusted. “I’ve heard theyhave rituals. But I’m not kidding, it’s all seriously secret. They take oaths and shit.”
    “Oaths?”
    “Yeah.”
    I shivered.
Oaths.
That’s what Malcolm had said. Suddenly, it all made sense: all that talk about him having to be a part of things, those mysterious “things” he couldn’t talk about.
    “And Malcolm’s definitely in it?”
    “Um,
yes.
If there’s one person I
know
is in it, it’s him. And that’s proof right there,” he said, gesturing to the brick. “That’s how you get in, supposedly—blood. You have to share blood with someone who was in before.”
    Something washed over me right then, a feeling of sickness and powerlessness. I was Christina in Andrew Wyeth’s
Christina’s World
: stranded in a field, helpless and alone. Faceless. And Malcolm was the house: safe, secure, poised on top of the hill. I knew it had all been too good to be true, that there was something wrong with him, there
had
to be.
    Gabe saw my face. “Don’t tell me you
like
him.” He said
like
as if it were the most disgusting verb in the dictionary.
    I paused for too long.
    “I thought you were different,” he snapped. “Otherwise, I never would’ve told you.”
    “I
am
different.
He’s
different, too, I swear—”
    “He’s
not
different. He
is
them. In fact, he’s worse than they are because he pretends to be something else.” Gabe turned and started to walk away.
    “You can’t say that! You’re just pissed because I don’t believe you!”
    He stopped and turned back to me, fierce. “Believe this: There is something evil here, and they’re all part of it.”
    “That’s ridiculous!”
    He opened his mouth, but closed it. His eyes widened. His face went pale. He shook his head. “Lydia’s coming,” he whispered as he backed away, then turned and ran down the hall, leaving me alone.
    I remained because I didn’t believe in ghosts. There was nothing to be afraid of. And part of me kept thinking that this might be some elaborate prank on Gabe or
by
Gabe. I checked my watch. Our shift was not done, so I started to pack up the computer to go after him. As I zipped up the travel case, I felt it again—that chill. I hurried toward the steps.
    When I arrived at the top of the spiral staircase, I saw Malcolm immediately. He was hanging out with Kent in “their” area, the cluster of leather chairs that looked ideal for pipe smoking. Kent was always smiling. He was the polar opposite of his twin, Abigail. I guess he got all the fun genes when their chromosomes split, if that’s even what happens.
    Malcolm’s back was to me. And Kent, on his other side, was too busy listening to his own voice to notice me. I wanted to talk to Malcolm, but approaching him when he was with Kent felt too awkward. Also, I needed to find Gabe. Insanity aside, we had work to finish. We were both now on “warning.” So I kept walking.
    As I passed, Malcolm turned and saw me. “Liv!” he called.
    I gave a little wave and rushed along. But he jumped up and followed.
    I paused and looked down. I felt naked talking to him in front of his friends. “Hey, sorry. It’s just I’m busy with my work-study job.”
    He leaned in close and whispered, “Tonight. It’s a full moon. And security will be distracted because the headmaster’s having an event.”
    When he spoke to me, Kent disappeared. So did Gabe. So did our job, so did whatever