Joan the Made (Throwbacks Series, Book 1)

Chapter 36

During our car ride back to Seattle Secondary Sunday night, Harriet and I don't talk. We're too stuffed with good food cooked from scratch by Addie and hours of complex diatribes from Jo.

After listening to Jo for so long, I'm beginning to question her sanity. She sees conspiracies everywhere, and it's hard to follow all of her logic, especially since I don't know most of the people she's talking about.

Harriet and I dutifully research each person she mentions, and many of the people Jo suspects are spying for Strand are now dead or missing. Even if they were aligned with Strand once upon a time, they're no threat now. I'm beginning to wonder if there is anything useful to be mined from all of the hours of Jo's ramblings.

"Thank you for taking me home with you," Harriet says, breaking the silence as we pull up to our dorm.

"You're my best friend. You never have to thank me because it's not a favor."

"It has to be said," Harriet insists as we get onto the creaky old elevator. "I'm not thanking you for the food or for all the clothes I know you've secretly stuffed into my bag. I'm thanking you for opening your home and sharing your family with me without holding back. Your heart is wide open, and I've never known anyone like that in my whole life."

"I wish I could claim that it's all part of my sunny disposition, but it isn't. You're the only one I'm completely myself with."

It's a relief when the elevator door opens on Harriet's floor and she steps out, squeezing my arm once. There's something about baring my soul, even to Harriet, that makes me uncomfortable.

When I open the door to my room, the first thing I notice is the smell. It reeks of body odor and rotting food, and the source is sprawled out on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Sparkle is wearing the same clothes I saw her in on the day I left. She must not have gone home for the weekend. Guilt roils my stomach. I should have taken her with me or made sure she had enough money for bus fare home.

I see the box of Amp kicked halfway under the bed, and my heart beats faster.

"Sparkle, look at me, please."

She turns her head. Thank you, God, there's no gold in her irises.

"Water," she says, her voice dull.

I take a bottle from our chiller and take it to her, ignoring her stench as I help her sit up and drink.

"What happened?"

She reminds me of a mouse that might scurry into a corner to hide if I scare her.

"Headmaster came by," she says in a monotone. "He has a client he owes a favor to, and I'm going to be the payment."

"I'll kill him."

"You can't. He's Evolved. Invincible. You're a Throwback. Disposable."

"No one is invincible. I know where you can hide until this blows over."

Her voice loses its lifelessness and turns sharp. "It won't blow over! This is real life, Joan, not a vid with a happy ending! When are you going to see that?"

Sparkle gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I hear the shower running, and I hope that her burst of anger will be enough to shake her out of her stupor. It's much scarier seeing her eyes dead than it is to see them flash with rage, even if it's directed at me.

More than ever, I want to pull Sparkle into the rebellion, so that she can see that change isn't just possible, it's coming soon. If she can hide from the headmaster till Circe Night, he'll never bother her again.