Page 80 of Knight Moves

She patted my knee. “Do you know what Charles told me?”

“Charles?” I searched my brain in confusion but came up empty. “Who’s Charles?”

“Charles Mayford, the personal trainer/lifeguard guy with the dark curly hair and pretty blue eyes? For heaven’s sake, Angel, you’ve seen him a dozen times at the gym. He’s really sweet and engaged to be married this summer. His fiancée, Renee, is a homicide detective. Imagine that.”

I searched my memory and came up with a dark-haired guy that I barely remembered. I shook my head. “Is thereanyoneyou don’t know, Frankie?”

“Of course. There are dozens of people here I haven’t met. Yet.” She rolled her neck. “Anyway, Charles gave me an excellent piece of advice. He told me that ‘continuous improvement is better than delayed perfection.’ He’s right. This is aschool, Angel. Even if it’s a spy school, no one expects us to be perfect right out of the gate. What they’re looking for is potential. And of all of us,youhave the most of that.”

I lifted my hands in astonishment. “Youreallybelieve that about me?”

“Ireallydo.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around it. There was a serious probability that she might be the most intuitive person on the entire planet. She’d said exactly what I needed to hear at this moment—that I had potential, and an honest shot at one of the slots.

“Thank you, Frankie.”

She chuckled and crawled across the bed to give me a hug. “No, thank you, Angel, for the talk. I feel sleepy now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After she climbed back down and settled into bed, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. How did she do that? She’d somehow turned around the conversation to make it seem like I was helping her when, in reality, she’dknownI needed this talk to get my head straight. That girl had mad people skills I couldn’t even begin to fathom.

I was dang lucky she was my friend.

Chapter Forty-Four

ANGEL SINCLAIR

“Please report to the front of the building after breakfast at oh seven forty-five and wait for further instruction.”

It was Friday morning, and all eight of us were eating breakfast in the cafeteria. I’d tried to make eye contact with Jax, but he had headphones in and was sitting with his back to us. I wasn’t sure how to handle what he’d told me last night, but it made me see him in a new and different light.

When the announcement to go out front came over the loudspeaker, I dropped what was left of a bagel on my plate and exchanged a worried glance with Wally.

He looked at me, scared. “Why are we going to the front of the building? Are they going to take us somewhere?”

“Probably.”

He nervously wiped his hands on a napkin. “I just hope that whatever we do today, it’s not physically demanding. I think my body has reached final capacity on that front. Everything hurts.”

I hurt, too, but the truth was, we were all looking leaner and stronger. I kind of liked the way it made me feel—a bit more confident and sure on my feet. Unfortunately, the exercise hadn’t seemed to improve my awkwardness or social skills. Guess that was going to take a different kind of training. Still, I agreed with Wally’s sentiment. The last thing I felt like doing was grappling with another round of push-ups, pull-ups, and chin-ups that I couldn’t manage. Not that I had any control over what we’d do next.

A little before seven forty-five, we all filed out of the front of the building. A bus was idling, waiting for us to get on. My heart started pounding in my chest, and every cell in my body wished it were twenty-four hours from now.

Wally leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Oh, boy. Here we go.”

“Good luck,” I whispered back. “You’ve got this.” I tried for an optimistic inflection in my voice, but it sounded fake and stilted. Wally was too nervous to notice.

Once we were loaded, including Mr. Donovan, the bus drove past the UTOP campus. We looked at the buildings with undisguised curiosity, particularly because it was forbidden to us. I assumed the students were in class, because there were just a few kids walking around. The campus was prettier than the KIT compound, with strategically placed redbrick colonial buildings, pretty courtyards, and well-kept flower beds. We passed the campus and kept driving on a paved road into the woods. It made me wonder how many square miles the entire area encompassed.

The bus stopped in a small lot, where a couple other cars were parked. We got off the bus and waited for further instructions. Mr. Donovan slid on his sunglasses and waved a hand at us. “Students, please follow me.”

We walked up a tree-lined path toward a rectangular building sitting at the top of a small hill. I couldn’t get a clear view of the building, because it was obstructed by a screen of large bushes. When we stood in front of the bushes, Mr. Donovan held up a hand, stopping us.

“Your trial will take place here. There are several stations you must successfully navigate. After the first station, you may proceed individually or as a group. Unlike previous challenges, not everyone is required to finish together in order for you to complete the course.”

I glanced at Frankie, who shielded her eyes with a hand pressed against her forehead as she listened to Mr. Donovan speak. She seemed remarkably calm, which in turn relaxed me. If Frankie wasn’t afraid, I shouldn’t be, either. She was right—we should do our best and let the chips fall as they may. The best two people would be selected, and that was how it should be. I felt the band of anxiety gripping my stomach ease.

“There are five stations in the final trial, with a two-and-a-half-hour time limit to complete all the stations,” he continued. “To get started, an individual will be randomly selected to be the ‘eyes’ for the first station. After that, you can decide for yourselves how you intend to address each challenge.”

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