Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,8
not to think of the danger their closeness might invite. Whenever he went down that path in his mind he stopped himself, defiantly refusing to consider it. It was a massive, deliberate hole in his calculations, one he both knew about and could not bear to think about. They kept his secrets and he hoped that he would not get them killed.
At the cafeteria line, Alex doubled up on eggs, toast, and fruit. He thought he was surely eating as much as Paul, who was a full head taller, but discovered on inspection that this was not the case.
“How did you get home?” Minhi whispered as she stood beside him and they slowly moved sideways along the cafeteria line. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Uh, I had a cell in my backpack and called my ‘friends.’ And as for sleep—” He shrugged. “Eh.”
“You can’t manage on no sleep.” Minhi clucked. “Even you.” Say more things, he wanted to say. Her accent, with its slight Indian lilt, was endlessly wonderful to listen to.
“I’ll be sure to bring that up at the next meeting,” Alex whispered. The next meeting, in fact, would be at noon, where he would see his handlers—including Sangster, his mentor—for another debriefing. They had conducted a preliminary one during the helicopter ride early in the morning. Truthfully he was used to very little sleep, and anyway, with luck he could catch up on the weekend. Which was five days away and counting.
Trays in hand, they all turned back and headed for their table again. Alex watched as a couple of girls waved at Sid. “Do we get Part Three?” one asked.
Sid nodded. “Friday.” The girls rushed off and Sid shrugged back at Alex.
“Part Three?” Alex repeated.
“‘The Owner of Pier Fifty-seven,’” Sid said. “It’s a three-part story for the lit club. It’s my turn to read this Friday.”
“Have you written it yet?” Paul asked. Sid shrugged again, which probably meant no. In the short time Alex had known him, Sid had progressed from being terrified at the thought of any public performance to becoming a minor celebrity for the short stories that he was reading aloud and also publishing in the weekly school paper. Alex had no idea where Sid found the time to fit them into his class work.
As they drew near their table, Alex’s attention snapped to a girl standing in the cafeteria entrance. The first thing that caught his eye was the strange chaos of her black hair, a boiling storm of oddly placed pigtails and ponytails, her skin white and eyes so light blue they were almost clear. She was standing with her hands in front of her, fingers curled into one another as though she were about to sing, and her pointed chin and slightly nervous look reminded him of a curious bird. She wore long blue tights and a weird blue minidress with wide puffed shoulders that made the whole outfit seem less like a dress than a strange suit of armor.
They reached the table and Alex put down his tray. As he looked back, the girl’s glance swept the room again and then caught his eyes almost accidentally.
Alex’s mouth was hanging open with the unsaid question, Who…?
Paul followed his eyes. “She’s new.”
Minhi was popping a grape into her mouth and said, covering her lips, “Yes she is.” She swallowed and waved as the girl looked back her way, this time registering recognition, her wide smile going all the way to her eyes. “Astrid!”
The new girl was already moving swiftly to the table. She seemed to bounce with her steps and greeted Minhi as though they were old friends, with a kiss on the cheek. Paul rose and silently reminded Alex and Sid that they should, too.
“I hope I’m not intruding.” Astrid’s voice was full and musical, low in her throat, and Alex detected a hint of an accent. Dutch? “Guys, this is Astrid Gretelian,” Minhi said. “She just came to the girls’ floor last night.”
“You’re starting in the middle of the year?” Alex asked before he even knew what he was going to say. He never could get introductions right.
This seemed to catch her by surprise. The girl’s head swiveled back and her eyes gleamed with her smile, her whole body swaying. Then she dramatically nodded her head at him. “Yes, I hope that’s allowed.”
“I think we’ll make an exception in your case.” Paul extended a large hand. “Paul.”
Minhi and Alex exchanged glances. Whatever charm Paul had, it lacked an off switch.