This trophy is a timeless Ivernia School relic, the tortoise perched atop a marbled plaque that readsSlowest but Steadiest.Back in the forties, the track team presented it to the person who improved the most over the course of a year. It was an honor that showed dedication and strength. You might not have been the best, but you didn’t give up. It meant you stuck with the team, and in the end, you were better for it. The tradition stopped sometime in the early eighties and the trophy sat behind a wall of glass with other crowning achievements before it was swiped by a student who started the first-ever Capture game.
This antiquated trophy is the answer to my problems. It’llprove I don’t always do what’s expected. That I’m capable of taking risks. The old Delaney wouldn’t have dreamed of getting involved in anything that would cause an ounce of conflict.
I’m about to stealthily book it back to Hyde with my grand prize when I hear it. A low, slightly hoarse voice that sets every single one of my nerve endings on fire.
“If you’re looking for a late-night snack, Carmichael,” he says, “I suggest checking your own kitchen first.”
I whirl around and—
Of course.
SumnerfreakingWinchel.
His dark tangle of waves stretches skyward like overgrown weeds, which, ironically, can also be used to describe his personality. Unwanted. Annoyingly stubborn. Showing up uninvited in the last place you’d expect.
The right side of his wire-framed glasses is wrapped in tape, a new development, but he’s wearing a familiar gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The one he’s usually sporting when we’re not in uniform.
Heat rises up my neck, a flush that sinks every thought of triumph I’d envisioned. I’m not embarrassed I’ve been caught; I’m frustrated. Because this is theoneboy who’s made it his mission to turnanythingto do with me into a challenge over the last three years, ever since he realized we kept bumping each other out of the top twenty ranking.
Let it be known I never asked for this. Grade point averageplays a vital role in my partial scholarship, but reaching a top twenty ranking was my own personal goal. It was a tough achievement, and Sumner made for fierce competition, but I told myself it would look good on college applications. That’s why I played into it,notbecause he made a habit of provoking me. One-upping me must feed his fragile ego, so I try not to let it happen.
His gaze ticks to the tortoise in my hands. A gleeful spark flashes in his eyes, which are such a dark shade of blue they’re almost gray. Like the densest culmination of a thunderstorm. It’s fitting since Sumner tends to come in loud and unwelcome. He knows what I have, and he’s not going to let me go.
But.
There’s a chance he’ll take pity on me. He was around during the worst summer of my life, after I lost my dad to cancer earlier this year. Maybe I can talk him into pretending I was never here.
“Sumner,” I whisper, trying—and failing—to keep the panic out of my tone. “Pleasedon’t.”
He tilts his head, a thoughtful movement usually reserved for examining quadratic equations. I catch the lingering scent of something earthy and spiced that clings to the threads of his Henley, the opposite of the manufactured monstrosity in the locker room. A conspiratorial smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
And—hold on. Is that…sympathy?
Am I about to get away with this?
My heart thumps so violently that my breathing turns quick and shallow. We stare at each other for a beat. Two.
But the hesitant expression passes, and in its stead, his gaze hardens.
“Hey, Segner House!” he hollers into the corridor, folding his arms across his chest as he turns back to me. He leans arrogantly against the doorframe, and his cold eyes freeze whatever remaining warmth I felt toward him. “We’ve got an intruder!”
Lights brighten beneath the doors. Latches release. Footsteps jog down the thin carpet. I stand there, frozen.
That’s when I know—
I am so screwed.
2
“I have to say, Delaney,”Headmistress Ellerby begins. “I didn’t expect to find you at my first and only disciplinary meeting of the day.”
I’ve sat in this office more times than I can count, butneverto be reprimanded. While Ellerby doesn’t have any trouble commanding respect, she’s also not an intimidating human. Students high-five her in the hallways or stop to tell her about a paper they’re working on, and she’s always more than willing to listen. And since I’ve been in the business of granting her favors over the last three years—the aforementioned speaking at alumni events and volunteering to show new students around—I figure that she’ll write off my late-night mishap with a lectured warning. It’s my first offense, after all.
“You know me,” I say. “Always exceeding expectations.”
This fails to lighten the mood. Her lips remain in a tight, flat line. “You were in Segner House past curfew.” She squints at the monitor in front of her before flicking her gaze back to me. “At midnight? Care to explain?”
I give it another shot. “Sleepwalking?”
