“Outer Banks Academy, that school over by Market? Wow, so you’re like super smart?”
He tested the air and found no hint of scorn. “I guess.”
She linked both hands around a knee and leaned back. “Sotell me something about how smart you are. I’ve never met a genius before.”
He had no idea why the words came out as they did. Only that it was incredibly easy to talk with her. “I start at UNC Wilmington next week.”
She dropped her foot to the concrete. “Get out of town.”
“I’ll still be living in Outer Banks Academy. Sojourn House, that’s my dorm.”
“For real? You’re going to UNC?”
“I want to study things and the academy can’t teach me.”
“Like what? Give me a for instance here.”
He released a portion of his hidden aims. Easy as drawing breath. “Advanced calculus. Statistics. Algorithms applied to predicting trends.”
“I don’t even know what half those things are.” She remained like that, studying him, until a whistle blew. Mira rose to her feet in one fluid motion. “Come on, genius. Let’s introduce you to my world.”
The class was exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. Colin had very little experience with anything to do with physical exertion. The academy had gym classes, but he had seen them as just another opportunity for the day students to ridicule him. Plus they were easy to avoid. None of the Sojourn House students took gym.
This was different. The other children were mostly younger, which made them less willing to mock a bigger kid. And Mira kept a careful eye on him. Which Colin found oddly thrilling. It was far more than just being smiled at by a beautiful older girl. There was something to their connection, a spark that he could not define. He felt an odd mixture of pleasure and excitement when she slipped into the water and showed him how to move his arms and legs together, fashioning the stroke she called freestyle. She looked so graceful,the water seemed to part willingly and then slip back together after her passage. Colin fought the water, exhausting himself in the process. Even so, the struggle gave him an odd sense of accomplishment. As if just by being here, just by trying, he was doing something important.
Then it was over, and the class was dismissed, and the pool was opened to all the other children who had gathered and waited impatiently for their chance to jump in and scream and splash around. Colin sat on the edge with his feet dangling in the water, as tired as he had ever been in his entire life. Mira was still there, standing by the lifeguard’s high chair with four other teenagers in their red swimsuits and caps, all of them with whistles either slung around their necks or dangling from one hand. She stood with her back to Colin, but he knew from the way the others glanced over that she was talking about him. Normally he hated being the center of attention. But something about this day and this place left him feeling safe.
When the strength returned to his limbs, he fit the goggles back over his eyes and slipped off the edge. The water no longer fought him, because he was not moving. He kept one hand on the ledge, but not for safety. He pushed himself down so his head was fully submerged. He wanted to feel again what it was like to be surrounded by the crystal blue. The water created an entirely new environment. Colin felt as if he had departed one world and entered another. One where sounds and light and sensations were all dominated by this new medium. All around him, kids played and splashed, their noise transformed by the translucent blue. But he was untouched, even when one of the kids jostled him. Colin felt it, but the momentary contact meant nothing. He stayed there until his lungs were burning, then popped up and breathed and breathed and breathed, like it was the first time he had ever tasted air.
Then he realized Mira was standing on the edge. Next to her was Kevin, the other instructor for their class. She smiled down at him. “Having a good time?”
“This is wonderful.”
“Look at this kid,” she said to Kevin. “Have you ever seen a smile that big?”
“The guy is hooked,” Kevin agreed. “Maybe you should rest a while. Swimming really tires you out.”
“One more time,” he said, taking another breath, then levering himself down into the crystal depths. When his lungs forced him back up again, they were gone.
CHAPTER8
Five-thirty that afternoon, Colin was seated on the bench to the left of the academy’s main entrance. His father was always late arriving. But Colin remained punctual, mostly because he didn’t want his father to show up and go wandering around. The academy was Colin’s haven, the place where he felt safe. Now that he had mostly moved beyond the reach of his teachers, this safety was why he put up with Sojourn House and Mrs. Fitzgerald and all her rules.
The year before, Colin’s father had been made president of the North Carolina Sheriff’s Association. This besides now serving as a state senator.
Every few weeks, Roger Eames’s growing list of responsibilities brought him down to Wilmington. A few days in advance, he or one of several assistants texted or e-mailed to say when he would arrive for a dinner with his son. The messages from his father’s aides were always more polite and personal than those coming directly from Roger Eames.
Earlier that week, a seismic event had struck North Carolina’s political landscape. The Republican congressmanrepresenting the state’s first congressional district suffered another heart attack, his third. Soon as he was released from the hospital he announced his retirement, effective immediately. Colin paid little attention to politics, but his daily search of news services for information of a different sort had alerted him. Over the coming days, he grew certain this was the event he had been dreading—not that particular occurrence, but something that marked the start of his ticking clock.
The state’s Republican Party was now led by the former mayor of Rocky Mount. When it came time for the governor to name a temporary replacement, it was only natural that they select State Senator Roger Eames. This was largely a symbolic gesture, as the national elections were in less than six months. The appointment was intended to pave Roger Eames’s way into national politics.
Colin was mentally reviewing the implications of these developments when a black Cadillac Escalade pulled into the forecourt. Colin did not realize it was his father until the face leaned toward the windshield and waved him over. His father had always driven four-door sedans, Fords mostly. This massive black beast signaled a change. When it came to dealing with his father, change was never good.
His father was talking on the phone when Colin climbed on board. Soon as Colin shut his door, his father slapped the SUV into drive and punched the gas. His voice held the edgy growl that took Colin straight back. It was the warning sound, time for his son to go find the safe alcove. Being trapped in this huge vehicle, seated high off the road, left him swallowing against the acrid taste of old fear.
His father said, “I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up at all.”
The woman who responded spoke with a strong southern accent, yet her words held as sharp an edge as his father’s. Colin flinched as her voice struck at him from all sides. Thecar’s speakers were embedded in doors, footwells, under his seat, behind him, everywhere. “Because we need your support on this, Senator.”
