Chapter Seven

Delaney

A lazy Saturday came and went, and before I knew it, it was Sunday afternoon and my meeting with Caleb was less than an hour away. I'd spent the day in nervous anticipation, several times considering canceling. I couldn't seem to shake the ominous feeling of dread that was crouching above my head.

Throughout the day, I was constantly telling myself that nothing would go wrong. But the simple fact that I need that reassurance only served to make me more nervous. Rather than being eased, my fears only increased. By the time five-thirty rolled around, I was thoroughly terrified.

But it was too late to change my mind. So I pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and a gray sweater, trying to ignore the mild feeling of panic swimming in my stomach. Frowning, I brushed through my hair with my fingers and pulled on my only pair of ballet flats, red ones with bows on the toes. My outfit was hardly up to Lizzy's standards, I decided as I looked in the mirror, but it would do.

My mom was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, purse on her arm and phone in her hand. I'd told her that I was meeting Liz for an evening shopping trip at the mall that Savory's was in. Though my social outings were rare, the idea was plausible, and thankfully, she bought it.

"Hurry up," she said, her voice ridden with impatience. "You're going to be late."

"Fine with me," I muttered inaudibly, but my mother was already halfway out the door.

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I spent the car ride with my forehead pressed against the window, watching Seattle's busy streets fly past. Mom had the car set to auto, which had a default speed of fifty miles per hour, so she could watch soaps on the mini-screen TV. The swiftness of our movement made the city a blur of lights and color.

When the car eased to a stop in front of the mall, my stomach was in knots. It was with considerable trepidation that I forced myself out of the car, all the while clutching my purse like it was my lifeline.

"Call me if you need pick-up!" my mom called, rolling down the window and glancing away from the television for a split second. I watched as she drove away, waiting until she was out of sight before plunging into the crowd. It took a few minutes of elbowing before I finally made my way to Savory's front entrance.

I stared at the doors of the restaurant, which featured a picture of one of their specialty pizzas. As someone pushed past me and opened the door, the warm, unmistakable scent of garlic bread swirled around me. Its aroma beckoned me inside, but it wasn't until several moments later that I was able to drag myself through the doors.

Inside the dimly-lit building were a couple dozen tables forming a half circle around a small, lobby-like waiting area. Every single one seemed to be filled, but even standing on tiptoe, I couldn't find Caleb's face. I checked my watch: it was ten past six.

"Can I help you?" asked a smiling young waitress in a dark blue apron. She stood behind a wooden podium, twirling a pen between her fingers.

"I'm here for a reservation with Caleb Payne," I said, standing up straight and trying to seem as confident as possible.

"Caleb Payne, Caleb Payne..." The waitress used her pen to scan through tablet in front of her, a frown pulling at her lips. I waited with bated breath, half praying that she'd find his name, but half hoping that she wouldn't.

"Here it is," she said brightly. "According to this"—she gave the screen a few taps—"he's sitting at a booth in the back left corner. Would you like me to show you?"

I shook my head quickly and forced a smile. "That's alright, I'll find it."

"Sure," she responded, smiling warmly. "Just ask for Tiffany if you need anything, and enjoy your meal!"

I thanked her, but given how queasy I was feeling, I doubted I'd be enjoying much of anything anything for the next few hours.

Caleb, who was sitting exactly where Tiffany said he would be in a little secluded booth in the corner, waved as I approached. "Hi, Delaney," he greeted as I slid into the seat across from him. "Good to see you."

"Yeah, hey," I murmured, unable to keep my eyes from darting around nervously. Caleb didn't seem to notice, and continued without hesitation.

"I just ordered two Sprites and a cheese pizza for us to share," he said, pushing a soda across the table to me. "Is that alright with you?"

I nodded silently, unable to believe that Caleb Payne was sitting only a few feet away from me. Most of the girls at my school would have killed for that opportunity. But I felt no attraction toward the boy across from me, only intrigue. Now that we were face-to-face, my curiosity was overwhelming, so much so that it was beginning to overtake my anxiety.

"So," Caleb began, lowering his voice and becoming instantly serious. "I'm just going to get right into this, since we don't have an infinite amount of time." I fiddled with my glasses.

"Fine with me," I consented.

"Great." Caleb laced his fingers together and leaned forward slightly. "Now tell me, Delaney. How easy is it for you to get into your dad's work?"

"Pretty easy. If I were to ask him, he'd take me."

"Excellent." Resting his chin on his hands, Caleb flashed me what would have been, in any other circumstance, a breathtaking smile. But here, it seemed secretive and purposely distracting.

I raised an eyebrow, a question forming in my mind. "Just wondering," I said, "let's say I do find revealing information on the Superiors. What exactly are you going to do with it?"

I expected him to trip up, but the Popular didn't even skip a beat. He laughed a little and shook the hair out of his eyes, but before he could respond, a teenage guy with shocking red hair and matching acne came waltzing over, pizza pan in hand.

"I've got one medium cheese, no toppings," he announced, setting the platter onto the table. His gaze flickered between Caleb and I and he smirked knowingly. "Enjoy!"

I groaned inwardly, but Caleb didn't pay attention to the server's hints. He smiled at the guy and thanked him as I sunk slowly into my seat, trying to be as small as possible.

"In answer to your question," Caleb continued, not looking at me as he placed a slice of pizza on my plate, "I have no idea."

"You have no idea?" I repeated incredulously. "You're asking me to do this for you, but you have no idea what you're doing to do once I've done it?"

He shrugged. "Depending on what I—you find, I might tell people. Mainly, I just don't want to go into the whole Choosing blindly, without any idea of what's ahead of me." With infuriating nonchalance, he took a bite of pizza.

I gritted my teeth together, anger slowly rising inside me. "Let me get this straight. You're asking me to"—I paused and glanced around to make sure there was no one in earshot—"to hack into a government computer, which might land me in jail or worse, but there's really no purpose to it. I'm risking everything for absolutely nothing." Fuming, I shook my head. "I have half a mind to just get up and leave, you know. This is starting to sound like it's not worth my time."

At that, Caleb frowned, though there was little disturbance in his eyes. I was struck with the realization that he could lie to me in a heartbeat; nothing would ever show in his face.

"No, please don't go, Delaney," he pleaded, and it sounded genuine. "I really do need you in this."

"I know you need me," I retorted. "I'm just not sure what you need me for!"

"Are you still suspicious of me?" He groaned. "God, Delaney, what do I have to do to prove that I have nothing to hide?"

"Oh, you're hiding something." I narrowed my eyes, knowing I was right.

"I'm not, I sw—" He stopped all of a sudden, his eyes widening as he stared at some past me. It was the most emotion I'd seen from him so far. I started to turn around, but a sharp hiss from Caleb cut me off.

"Delaney," he said quietly. "Get under the table." I stared at him blankly. "Now, before she sees us!" Something about the urgency in his tone made me listen to him. I slid (quite ungracefully) under the floor-length red table cloth, which was just thin enough to see through. And there was no mistaking who I saw winding their way through the tables toward.

It was Stevie Jackson, walking stiffly, an uncharacteristically nervous smile on his face. And beside Stevie, clutching his arm with a smug smirk on her face, was none other than Carlie Heights.