Wildcard (Warcross #2)(37)
“So you started seeing him.”
Tremaine hesitates. “And I started taking pills to keep up with everyone.”
I blink. “Drugs?”
“I started with half a pill a day, and I don’t really remember when I got up to seven or eight.”
I recall the abrupt leave Tremaine had taken from Warcross, right before he left the Phoenix Riders. How gaunt he’d looked that year. Had that entire episode been because of pills? “How long did that go on for?” I ask.
“About a year.”
“Did Roshan know?”
“Everyone knew, especially after I passed out during a practice session. They tried forcing me to quit. Asher threatened to cut me from the team if I didn’t stop. But it wasn’t until I overheard Roshan’s father talking to him before a game that I realized Roshan was out of my league. His father patted his shoulder and said, ‘I’m sorry, son. But what did you expect? It was only a matter of time before he followed his mother’s example.’ I ended up getting in a fistfight with another player during that game, and the Riders were temporarily suspended.”
“I remember,” I murmur.
“I didn’t sleep that night,” Tremaine says. “I knew I was singlehandedly crippling my team. The next day, I packed my things and left without telling Asher or saying good-bye to my mates. Roshan came running after me, asking where the hell I was going.” He shakes his head. “I was so mad and ashamed that I told him I was sleeping with someone else behind his back, that we were done. Coincidentally, the Demons were on the hunt for a new Architect, and they were only too happy to stick it to the Riders.”
I listen quietly. Roshan had never mentioned any of this.
“Look, I’m not proud of it, yeah?” Tremaine mutters. “It doesn’t mean I think I was right. It’s just what happened.”
“And you never cleared the air with Roshan?” I ask.
“Couldn’t bring myself to. And now it feels too late.”
I can’t help but think back to how I’d clutched my head in my hands the night I’d glitched myself into the Warcross Opening Ceremony, completely unaware that my world was about to change forever. Everything became amazing; then, everything turned awful. Life is always like that—you don’t know when you’ll suddenly claw your way out of your circumstances, or when you’ll go crashing back down into them.
“I’m not going to tell you it’s never too late,” I reply. “But, in my experience, it’s always the not doing that I regret more.”
The rain has stopped now, and the puddles in the alleyway have turned into undisturbed mirrors. Tremaine’s the first to push away from the wall. He shoves his hands into his pockets, then glances at me over his shoulder. Whatever vulnerabilities he’d shown a second ago have vanished behind his cool exterior.
“So,” he says, his bravado back. “No chance you’re quitting, huh?”
I shake my head. “Afraid not.”
“Well.” He lingers for a moment, nodding out toward the main streets. “Then we’ll need to stop fooling around in virtual reality and head to the institute for ourselves.”
I look quickly at him. “What do you mean, we? I thought you were out, either way.”
He sends me a message, and a map appears in my view with a blinking red cursor hovering over a place somewhere beyond the northern fringes of Tokyo. Japan Innovation Institute of Technology, the cursor says. Saitama-ken, Japan.
“If you’re going to continue, then I guess I’ll stick it out with you.” He points to the map. “When I went, all I could do was observe the campus from the outside. But I’m sure there’s plenty more going on behind those closed doors than what I could glean from their servers or their front gates. We’ll need to head in at night, when there aren’t so many guards.”
I stare at the map, my fingers tingling. This is where Hideo’s mother had worked, and where Sasuke may have spent his childhood. From the map, it doesn’t look like much—a building of glass and steel, a single structure in a sea of thousands. How can one place hold so many secrets?
“So, tomorrow night?” he says.
I give him a half smile. “Done.”
He heads out into the alley. His emotions are packed away again, but his usual sneer is now replaced with something more open. “See you soon, Princess Peach,” he replies. This time, the nickname sounds affectionate. “And keep yourself safe until then.”
* * *
* * *
THE HOTEL WHERE the Blackcoats are staying is quiet tonight, and I’m the only one walking down its halls. I sigh as the door identifies me and lets me in. My mind is a whirlwind of clues and questions. What if the institute has covered its tracks? What if I can’t find anything? There’s not much time before the closing ceremony, and I still know so little about Zero.
Where is he tonight, anyway?
The instant I close the door to my room, I know something is off. There’s the faint scent of perfume in the air, and a lamp on the far end of the room is turned on.
“Out late?” someone says.
I whirl around to see Taylor waiting for me.
14
I freeze at the sight of her silhouette sitting casually in my chair, one of her legs crossed over the other. Weak light from the windows cuts a striped pattern against her. Even from the other side of the room, I can see her eyes in the shadows, studying me. She’s perfectly groomed, her hair combed neatly back, and her outfit is sleek and monochromatic, blacks and grays. I find myself unconsciously comparing her to the photo I’d seen earlier, of her in front of the institute.