Dianne Salerni - The Eighth Day

JAX LAY ON HIS BEDholding the Grand Canyon photo. In the picture, his father was wearing an embarrassing Hawaiian-print shirt, and the hand he was using to shade his eyes wasn’t the one with the tattoo. There wasn’t a single thing in this picture to suggest Rayne Aubrey had a secret day of the week or made his living as a corporate spy.

But Jax had to admit, there were things about his father that didn’t make sense. The tattoo, for one, which he told people was a leftover from “wild college days.” But on more than one occasion, he’d warned Jax to pull up his grades “so you can go to college like I never did.”

And then there was the business, Information Resources, which had no employees and no office. Jax had never even seen a business card for it. He’d never questioned this before because, after all, what kids were really interested in their fathers’ work?

Riley had refused to answer any more questions about Jax’s father or the bargain they’d made. “You want to leave here, and that suits me fine,” he’d said. “Once you leave my protection, it’s better if you know as little as possible about your father’s business—and mine.”

But Jax was tired of being surprised. He slammed the framed photo onto the bedside table and went downstairs to his computer.

Buried in his in-box below all the spam, Jax found an email with the subject line: Between Wednesday and Thursday Admission Granted .

Fellow Eight-Day Citizen: Your application for admittance has been granted. The username and password below will access your membership.

Jax entered the ID numbers he’d been given and was prompted to change his log-in information. He chose his customary username, jaxattax , and the same password he used for everything. Immediately, he was redirected to the forum, where he found a list of discussion threads.

Introductions

Discussion Topics

• Vermin Infestation

• Can Duds Be Cured?

• Niviane’s Enchanted Forest: Was It a Real Place?

• Locus of the Spell: Stonehenge or Pentre Ifan?

• The Kin Issue

Youth Camps

Chat Groups

But Jax couldn’t get into any of the discussions. Whenever he clicked on a link, a pop-up informed him:

403 Error. Try again later.

Transitioners might have a secret day all to themselves , Jax thought, as he sent an email to technical support, but they’re lousy with computers.

The kid who smashed Giana Leone’s ceramic vase never realized he did it. He was talking to his friend in the hallway and didn’t look back when his elbow struck her arm. She lost her grip on the vase, and Jax, passing by, made a grab for it but missed. The vase hit the floor and shattered.

Giana held out her hands in dismay. “That stinks,” Jax said. He squatted and started picking up the broken pieces.

“It’s just something I made in art class. I don’t care,” Giana said, although the look on her face plainly said she did. She fetched a trash can from an empty classroom.

Jax picked up shards with one hand and piled them into the other. “Do you want to save the big pieces and glue them back together?”

“What’s the point?” Giana gingerly picked up pieces of pottery and cast a sideways glance at Jax’s hand. “I can’t believe you got a tattoo. Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if your guardian says okay.” She was eyeing him like she couldn’t decide whether the tattoo made him cool or creepy, so he said, “My dad had a tattoo like this. It’s a way to honor him.”

“Oh.” Giana stood and picked up the trash can. Jax could’ve kicked himself. Nobody wanted to hear about his orphanhood.

“You had Mr. Gupta’s history test this morning, right?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. “I have it next period. How was it?”

“Not too hard, if you studied,” she said, starting to walk away.

“Was it mostly on Chapter Fifteen?” He stood up too, desperately wanting to extend the conversation. “‘Battles of the Revolution’?”

Giana stopped with a jerk, almost losing her balance. “Yes, but he focused on the Pennsylvania battles.” Giana’s forehead rumpled. She made a movement as if to walk away, but it was like she’d been welded to the spot. “You better know all about General Anthony Wayne.”

“What about the essay? Was it tough?”

Giana pressed her lips together and stared at Jax, then blurted out, “You have to compare the British and Continental armies. I didn’t have any problem with it.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Jax grinned. “D’you like history?”

“It’s my favorite subject.” Again, Giana made a strange, jerky movement, like she was going to walk away but didn’t.

Jax’s heart flipped over. It seemed like she wanted to keep talking to him. “They’re showing a historical movie at the PTA Fun Night this Friday, aren’t they? I mean, it’s a ghost story, but set in the past, right?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were very wide.

“Are you going?” The bell rang for the next period.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded strained.

“Me too.” He made that up on the spot. “So maybe I’ll see you there?”

“You probably will.”

Jax hadn’t felt this light-headed since A.J. had stuck the needle gun into his arm. “Okay. Talk to you later.” Giana expelled her breath and bolted down the hall. Jax stood there, grinning, until an unexpected blow sent him staggering. He caught his balance and glared at Tegan Donovan, who for no reason had hip-checked him as she walked by.

“That was smooth,” she said. “Jerk.”

He blinked stupidly. What was wrong with her ? Why would Tegan care if he was talking to Giana?

Then his grin returned. Giana Leone wanted to talk to Jax Aubrey. Wow.

The rest of his day was a blur, and nothing, not even the history test, could squelch his good mood. But he wasn’t exactly sure what their conversation meant. Was he allowed to wave at Giana from across the auditorium on Friday night? Hover nearby? Sit next to her?

After the last bell, he tried to catch her at her locker. Maybe he could clarify the situation. Giana glanced his way, slammed her locker closed, and walked in the opposite direction. Jax quickened his pace. “Giana! Wait up.”

She whirled, her eyes flashing. “What?”

Jax stepped back, startled by her expression. But his mouth kept going, plunging forward in his convoluted plan to find out her favorite candy and show up with it. “I was wondering, for Friday, if they sold snacks, or if we were allowed to bring—”

“I don’t care what you do,” she snapped. “Just stay away from me!”

“Uh . . .”

“And don’t you dare let anyone know I told you what was on the history test.”

Jax gaped at her. Students in the hall were turning to watch.

“Freak,” Giana hissed, walking away as fast as her legs could take her.

Girls. Did they take lessons on how to humiliate a guy? Or did it come to them naturally?

Jax replayed the conversation in his head all the way home, but he couldn’t figure out what had happened. One minute, Giana had been talking to him and admiring his tattoo—well, sort of—and a couple of periods later, she’d practically spit in his face.

“Pendare?” A.J. lifted his head off the recliner when Jax opened the front door. The host of Extraterrestrial Evidence was blathering on about aliens abducting the ancient Khmer Empire.

“No, it’s me.” Jax stomped into the kitchen and got a soda from the refrigerator, which now hummed smoothly and kept everything cold. He sat at his computer in the alcove off the kitchen and checked his email glumly, still stinging from Giana’s last word. Freak!