Zodiac Academy: The Awakening(2)

“Holy shit – don't shoot!” I crashed into a wall in my panic, my shoulder bruising on impact.

“I said freeze!” the cop yelled.

Desperate, I lurched toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut and shoving the bolt into place.

No shots fired yet. That's gotta be a good thing. Cops don't shoot unarmed teenage girls, do they?

I shoved the cash into the back pocket of my pants, scooped up Pete's toothbrush and dunked it in the toilet bowl. A thump sounded on the other side of the door but I was already halfway through the window and Pete's toothbrush was back in its holder. Totally worth the five seconds it had cost me.

I squeezed out and hit the ground running, fleeing toward the back fence where I knew for a fact the neighbour's Rottweiler had dug a sizeable hole. More shouts followed me. But the wind was tugging at my hair and my lungs were expanding with freedom. It was pure ecstasy, tumbling through me like a drug.

I pictured Tory's face when I told her what I'd done to Pete's toothbrush and couldn't wait to hear her laugh over it. I’d doubted whether I could pull this off. I was usually the one who tripped over her own feet on a regular basis-but not today dammit.

“Hey – stop!” a female cop this time.

My dream died and my heart turned to ice. I dropped into a flowerbed and hauled myself through the hole under the fence. My jeans snagged on the underside of the sharp wood. It scratched my skin and I yelped as the sound of footsteps closed in.

“I need this money – it's not even his!” I shouted, my heart wailing just as loudly in my chest.

Hands caught my ankles and my heart nearly combusted. I unhooked my belt and in that minute, I felt it. All of it. The cash cascaded down to the mud, brushing across my torn skin and falling to the ground.

I hadn't tucked it in my pocket. I'd stuck it in my damn belt.

“No!” I kicked out at the cop, but she didn’t let go, her nails digging in.

“Sarge!” she yelled for back up and I could see my life fading before my eyes. Screw jail – it was a terrible Plan B!

A forbidding male voice filled the air which cut into me like a knife. “Let go of her.”

The cop released me and I thanked my lucky stars as I scrambled onto my knees. I turned back but a pair of large male hands were already wrapping all of our lovely green cash up in a ball.

That's our life you're taking!

I booted the fence hard, yelling my rage before turning and running as fast and as hard as I could in the opposite direction.

Whoever that guy was, he'd both saved my ass and ruined my life.

Thanks asshole.





I trudged up the four floors to our apartment, caked in mud and furious as hell with myself. My hands were jammed in my pockets and I was soaked through from the downpour I'd just experienced for ten blocks. Chicago was having mood-swings. If it wasn't the wind, it was the rain. It was September dammit, they were still sunbathing in Springfield!

I shivered as the cold trickled into my bones and made every single part of me numb apart from the pain of losing that cash and the shame that I’d failed us so deeply.

I twisted my key in the lock, marching into the forty square foot studio with flaky green paint on the walls and exposed brickwork which didn't look hipster, it looked like a half-finished job.

Tory was stretched out on the couch, thumbing her cellphone which had a jagged crack up the centre of the screen. At least she'd secured herself a smartphone, I was stuck with a Nokia from the 90s which did nothing but make calls – as if that was what a phone was for.

I shed my leather jacket with a dramatic huff and she glanced up, arching a brow. Her face transformed as she pulled herself out of technology brain and sprang to her feet.

“Where have you been?” she asked, confusion gleaming from her olive green eyes which were the exact same shade as mine. Like everything about us. Bronzed skin, our lips full and wide. We were a mirror version of each other except for my hair’s dark blue tips. Maybe that was why we drove each other crazy sometimes.

I threw my jacket on the floor without answering, tempted to stamp on it but Tory sucked in a breath, pointing at me. I looked down, finding my hem stained red with blood from the fence catastrophe.

“It's fine.” I tore the shirt off, dumping it in the garbage bag we'd strung up in the two foot kitchenette which didn't even include a toaster. I swallowed my pride and prepared to tell Tory just how much I’d failed us. “I decided to get our money back from Pete’s but the cops showed up. I ran...then I dropped the cash.” I was so angry with myself that I bashed my fist down on the counter. Clumsy idiot.

“That was two grand,” Tory gasped.

“I know.” I shut my eyes, my embarrassment devouring me from the inside out. I had to keep my head. I had to figure this out. Because we were so effing screwed if we didn't. We'd only managed a few month's rent here because we'd sold the single item of value we'd had when we left Pete's. A Gucci handbag I’d spotted in a thrift store labelled as a knock-off. Pete hadn't known that it was the real deal or he would have gotten his greasy palms all over it the second he could.

“Did they see you?” Tory demanded.

“Yes,” I sighed. “Pete must have gotten cameras installed...or maybe the neighbour. Who knows? It all amounts to the same thing. I messed up and we’re screwed.”