6
6
NEW YEAR, NEW BEGINNING
T he alarm chimed 6:30, as usual, but this was anything but an ordinary Tuesday. It was the last day of the year, and tonight the first time I would attend The Academy New Year’s Eve bash. A black-tie affair. Last year I still wasn’t allowed to mix with the natives, but this year I’d made the list. I’d learned one of the severest punishments The Academy doles out is to withdraw your name from the list. All cadets sixteen and older—in good standing—are allowed to go. Academy officers, instructors, and support staff all attend. Then there are the VIPs: Mayor of Tiburon, Chief of Police, a senator and general or two. Big freaking deal.
A bubble of excitement instantly charged through me. I sprang out of bed, sheets flying behind me. I didn’t even bother making my bed as I hustled Mikey out the door, happy for once to palm him off on Academy personnel and routine, so I could attend to the un-routine business of getting ready for a ball. A smile sprang to my face as I thought of the one who had orchestrated the whole thing: hair, nails, and a whole day off for pampering. Ranger was even allowing me to go shopping in the city, accompanied only by Jess, my favorite gal pal, his favored SAP, Smitty, and a black credit card. Neiman Marcus—a name I’d only heard about.
Two hours later, I’d sallied out automatic doors that opened for everyone, one arm around Jess, the other around a zippered garment bag. A real LBD. It was a floor length, strapless number with one long slit. That was it. No costume jewelry for me. Just crimson nails and lipstick and an audacious bag shaped like a pair of lips. Fun.
The day blew by, and the night came in with force. Mikey was safely stashed away watching Pixar movies with his little homies while Jess and I jammed to some super-loud, inappropriate rap in my room. I squirmed in my seat, as Andre’s assistant fiddled with the last pin in my hair. I’d opted for a chic updo tonight, wanting different. I was ready for a change. Tired of feeling like an outcast. Tired of being bitter and stuck inside wearing sweatshirts to cover my skin. I’d been working Dr. D’s magic salve into the scars twice a day, and only a few browning lacerations remained. I shimmied into my slinky black dress, which left my back daringly naked to match my mood. And, as another small gesture of change, I had Jess unlatch the gold cross Ranger draped around my neck last spring. And instantly felt lighter.
Before I knew it, our chariot arrived—a coveted covered cart, for just the two of us. We high-heel stepped out into a vivid starry night, and I took a pause to breathe in the moment. I could just feel something in the air, yunno? It blew in with the cold front that turned Belvedere Island into an iceberg.
Fairytale lights twinkled from every tree as we whizzed down the sidewalk to The Manor. Upon arrival, sleek-haired men in tuxes were ushering in bejeweled, satin-clad women, their cool confidence and warm smiles seemingly as effortless as their well-heeled stride. As we waited our turn for the coat-tailed SAPs to relieve us of our cart and coats, I could barely contain my excitement or stand upright, without leaning on Jess for support. Finally, it was our turn and the double doors swung open, letting out a blast of warm air and upbeat music, and in two amped-up GAP girls from way out of town. And it was just like I’d imagined it: the ballroom dark and mysterious, transformed into a glamorous nightclub complete with shimmering décor, golden revelers, and even a glittering disco ball hanging from the ceiling like a giant silver planet. The squeal I’d been holding in finally burst out of me.
“Come on!” I grabbed Jess by the elbow and rushed forward, wobbly ankles forgotten.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” She burbled, nabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. Nobody looked askance at her, so I followed suit, giggling so hard I nearly spilled it down my dress. After downing some liquid courage, we burst onto the scene, mingling with our fellow cadets, the elite, and brass while nibbling on puffy pastries and stealing sneaks of drinks behind potted plants. I was in the mood: to laugh, to flirt, to dance, to toast in the new year and forget about that whole sordid Baja ordeal. And to get kissed. The New Year’s Eve kind—chaste, sweet-sixteen stuff. Nothing heavy. I wasn’t ready for that. And wasn’t sure whom the lucky guy was yet.
I cast my bright eyes around the black-tie crowd and landed on Stew-baby. He was a standout in his white tux and red tie. I’d been harboring a friend crush on him for a while, on account of his stellar personality. He glanced up from his conversation with Ryan and lifted his glass to me, grinning. I laughed outright, which caused him to follow suit. This caused Ryan to glance up. When he spied me swaying to the music in my stacked heels, he waved me over. I just waved back gaily, still debating my options. Jess lifted her feathered brows at me.
“What?” I shrugged. “He gave me chocolate.”
And I felt like I owed Ryan a second chance, and Taz, my curly-headed CAP buddy, a first chance. I glanced at the giant clock above the bandstand, ticking down minutes to the new year. It was a quarter past eleven and Ranger was still a no show . I’d wondered where he was all night and came to two conclusions: he was working or blowing it off. I felt a little prick in my happy bubble, leaking out a little joy. It’s just . . . I wanted to thank him for the dress and maybe show it off a little. But the one I was really out to impress tonight was Pete. I knew, in my heart of hearts, he was the one I wore this dress for. Like he’d pop up with a black mask on (even though it wasn’t a masquerade ball) to kiss me at the stroke of midnight. It was a sickness I had. These fantasies. I remembered back to when he said he’d love to see my in a little black dress and take me to prom. A sigh leaked out now, and an overly intuitive Jess glanced sideways at me. I forced a smile and nabbed a loose glass of champagne, taking a lengthy sip. This party was my prom.
And I did just what I set out to do—I flirted and laughed and twirled so much on the dance floor I began to feel dizzy. I was right in the middle of boogying down with Taz when I felt him come into the room. His presence paused my heart and caused my feet to miss a step or two. I watched as he lifted his glossy head above the bitchy blonde, clinging to his arm, to scan the crowd. When his gaze fell upon me dancing the night away, his mouth quirked up at the corner. I whirled around with a huge grin on my face, hoisting up my falling dress. (I hadn’t accounted on dancing in a strapless.) Like “the look” Ranger gave me at the beach, I didn’t even try to hide my joy at his arrival. It whapped him upside the head, I could tell. Seeing me like this: happy, dancing, strapless, cross-less. His face relaxed into a full-fledged smile, dimples flashing me. A new buzz of excitement flipped my stomach. Then he came to get me. Just like that. In that filled-to-the-brim tux, parting the crowd like Moses.
Taz noticed where my attention had wandered to. I gave him an exaggerated frowny face, but I didn’t really feel it. “I’m probably in trouble,” I laughed it off.
Taz put his erratic dancing on pause as his superior approached. Ranger didn’t even glance at him, keeping his eyes solely on me.
“You don’t mind if I cut in, do you, Townsend?”
A rhetorical question if I’d ever heard one. What could he say? Nobody messed with Ranger. Taz split, and I was left dancing by myself, Ranger not in any way, shape, or form dancing.
“Hey!” I waved while still shimmying up and down to the music.
He shook his head at me. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
“Whatdayamean?” I shouted, grinning like a fool.
He cupped a hand to my ear. “You’re one sip away from me throwing your ass over my shoulder and hauling you outta here.”
I threw my head back at that. My cheeks hurt from smiling. I didn’t know The Academy could be fun. This wasn’t stodgy brass band music. This was D.J. Snazzy Pop playing hip-hop. Ranger took my arm and led me to a quiet corner.
“Do yourself a favor,” he advised. “Quit while you’re ahead. There’s a surprise, six a.m. power drill in the morning.”
“What?” I flung my hands up. “ Why? It’s New Year’s Eve for cryin’ out loud!”
“Pay back for all the forbidden alcohol you cadets are imbibing in.”
I folded my arms, trying to keep a straight face. “Don’t know whatja talkin’ ‘bout, Officer.”
He shook his head, but I could tell he wasn’t really mad. “I used to be a cadet,” he reminded me. “Trust me . . . I’m just looking out for your best interests.”
A whisper of a shadow crossed my face, dimming my glow. I recalled another former elite cadet saying the exact same thing.
“Nice dress, by the way.” Ranger raked his eyes over me in a way that should’ve been offensive but managed to compliment and revive my glow.
“Thanks, by the way,” I said, running nervous palms over my silky thighs.
Ranger’s eyes darkened a fraction. I filled the awkward silence by hoisting up my dress by the armpits.
He laughed and arched a black brow. “Have you learned nothing here?”
I poked out my tongue. “Yeah . . . I learned how to dress better.”
“That you have.”
“Why are you so late?” I accused.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“No.” Was I? I wasn’t sure but was sure my cheeks had heated to pink.
“You took off your cross,” he accused.
I peeked down my dress guiltily. “I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve asked first. It didn’t really go with the dress.”
“No, it’s fine.” He took another moment to appraise me. “Turn around again.”
I giggled and did a little graceless twirl, nearly toppling over. Ranger set a hand on the nape of my neck to steady me. He traced one of the lacerations on my back with the pad of his thumb. The skin was kind of numb there, but something about the gesture sent a shiver down me. I turned back around in time to witness his face turn soft.
“Healing nicely.” There was approval and a hint of something I couldn’t identify in his tone.
I fingered my naked neck and nodded.
“Well . . .” He drew in a breath. “I better get back to my date.”
“Oh.” A gnaw of something akin to the green-eyed monster surprised me. “Okay then. Have fun.” My voice was too dull to be believable.
“You too. But no toast champs, little lady,” he cautioned sternly.
I laughed. “Can’t make no promises, Officer.”
He flashed a dimple. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t disgrace yourself first time at the ball . . . or you might not be invited back, Cinderella.” He turned and walked away.
There was something sad about that, so I called out, “Happy New Years!”
He spun around and finger-gunned me before disappearing into the crowd.
Ten minutes later I found myself squeezed in a tight group of partiers, with a half glass of champagne in my hand. The lights were dimmed even further, and we were all counting backwards. “Ten, nine, eight, seven . . .” I hollered along so loudly my tonsils hurt. “Six, five, four, three . . .” I felt someone reach for my hand and glanced up at some laughing hazel eyes. I smiled. Stewart then. I was okay with that. “Two, one!” Drunken revelers shouted, “Happy New Years!” right as a hard arm-grip ripped me into a solid chest.
“Happy New Year, Connelly.” He punctuated with a long, lingering lip lock that caught me and everyone else by surprise. Synapses were popping, noise-makers cranking and whirring over our heads, along with cheers. Confetti landed on our joined faces, getting caught in our eyelashes and hair. And for the first time in my life—The Auld Lang Syne song was playing. But I could only focus on the warm hand around my neck and the firm lips pressed into mine.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?
We broke apart, and I stared at Ranger in shock.
“What?” Wolfish grin. “I kiss all of my mentees on New Year’s Eve . . . part of the right of passage.” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, I guess proceeding on with his night and his date. I felt really bad for her until I found out it was Lizzie from Martial Arts.
The week after, Ranger summoned for me . . . I’d just knocked the bitch out.