Visible Ghosts

10

Sang POV

Chewing the tip of a pencil, my mind worries about Zane. He seems exhausted. He headed to bed earlier than I did last night but dark circles stand out under his eyes. This week has been chaotic. I've talked to so many different people I can barely keep their names and answers straight. An excel spreadsheet has been created to organize my thoughts.

Zane is doing his hardest to deter any boys who seem interested in me. Not that I need his help, but I appreciate the gesture. He's my safety harbor in the sea of aggressive and persistent college guys. I was hoping this mission wouldn't be that long but the more I learn the more I realize why this drug operation has gone undiscovered for so long.

The attention I'm receiving from the Toma and Blackbourne teams is concerning. Zane got an alert on his computer saying that Corey and Victor tried to access our files from the Academy and ran a background check on us. Luckily, unless they somehow broke through our firewalls, they wouldn't have found anything other than what Phil allowed in the files. That we were adopted at the age of 10 because we were abandoned to the foster care system. We ran away and Phil found us hanging around the homeless shelter in New York.

Luke, North, and Marc attempted to tail us on our way home on Wednesday. It wasn't difficult to lose them in the busy congestion of Charleston but it raised some flags. I plan on talking to Phil today after classes. One, to chew him out about my schedule and two, to inquire about why the other teams are so interested in us. If they snoop around too much they could blow our cover.

The telltale signs of Zane getting ready reverberate throughout the house. The shutting of his door, the scrap of his bookbag being dragged across the floor, and finally the thumping of his feet hitting each step. Pine and honey tickle my nose as he enters the living room. A wrinkled green shirt and blue board shorts make up his attire today. His blonde hair is a mess, strands sticking in every direction.

His eyes brighten when they fall on me. We dressed in reverse. I'm wearing dark green athletic shorts and a sky blue tank top. Trying to beat the end of summer heat is an arduous task. "Ready to go buttercup? I'll drive."

We stop at a Starbucks on the way to campus. Zane gets the largest size of coffee they offer and three different pastries. I skip the coffee this morning and instead opt for a banana chocolate chip muffin and chai tea.

"Do you think we can finish this mission by the end of the semester?" Zane says as he backs into a parking spot. "This first week was a bust. Hardly anyone new intel and we're working with a flimsy lead at best."

My fingers drum against the side of my cup, trying to calculate the possibility of finishing in 14 weeks. "There's a chance. It would be helpful if we didn't have to worry about the other academy teams blowing our cover. We really need to have a talk with Phil."

Silence envelopes the car, both of us staring out the window watching students walk across campus. A list of all the things I needed to do today ticked off in my mind.

1. Get an invite to tonight's party

2. See if I can find a way to access the dean's office

3. Lose the tail that will try to follow us home

4. Chew out Phil

A deep breath rushes out of my mouth causing my shoulders to sag. A warm hand took mine and held it firmly. Without looking I could tell Zane was doing his best to comfort me. Another deep breath in and I square my shoulders and squeeze Zane's hand.

"Let's do this."

We walked to class in silence, ears listening to the mindless chatter of the students around us, and eyes peeled for any shady looking exchanges. Zane dropped me off at my classroom with a kiss on my forehead and mumbled "have a good day buttercup."