Page 55 of Ruthless Chaos
“We’re taking a helicopter,” she says.
My jaw slackens. “To the game?”
“I called in a favor for us.” Tara bobs her head excitedly. “Who wants to spend hours on a bus with dozens of loud people when it’s just a thirty-minute flight?”
“I thought that was part of the experience,” I quip.
Tara makes a fake hurling sound. “Don’t get it confused, Allie. I’m only going to this game to watch some hot, sweaty men play with balls.” She seems happy to have made me smile. “I’m not trying to go deaf from all the shouting.”
The track deposits us in a clearing on the hillside. The signage calls it a helipad, though it looks a little dated. Flowers are blooming in-between the cracks in the concrete, the grass overgrown.
There’s a sleek black helicopter sitting in the middle of the glade.
As we approach, someone alights from the cockpit.
“I was wondering when you’d show,” the girl who steps out says.
She’s tall and svelte, with rich russet-colored skin. Even though she’s dressed similarly to us, the varsity jacket and acid-washed shorts look like high fashion on her body. A string of solid gold chains keeps her dark brown dreadlocked hair atop her head in a bun.
I’m speechless. She’s gorgeous.
Tara runs over and captures her in a hug. “I had a hard time getting this one out of bed,” she says, pointing to me.
I wave awkwardly as I walk over, suddenly self-conscious.
“I’m Nya,” she says, taking my hand in her soft ones. “Tara’s told me so much about you.”
My eyes flick to my roommate, and she grins. “Nya and I take the same sociology class. She’s a freshman too,” she explains.
So, she’s new here too.
I don’t know her from Hemlock, so she’s either on Chaos or Hell House. It’s hard to picture her living in either of those places. She’s too ethereal.
“Nice to meet you, Nya,” I say, finally finding my voice.
The three of us start walking back to the helicopter.
“You’re flying us?” I blurt out.
Nya laughs, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Tara’s amused too.
“Yes, I am,” she nods. “I’ve had my license for a few years now.”
If we’re both freshmen, then she’s around the same age I am.
I’m awed that she can be so youngandso talented. A twinge of jealousy sparks in my chest—I guess this is what happens when you have the chance to choose your interests.
My father would never let me learn something like this.
Nya slips into the pilot’s seat, and Tara straps in beside her.
I slide into the seat behind them.
The cabin is spacious for how small it looks on the outside. The seats are made from a comfortable, tufted leather, and the interior is accented with dark brown wood inlaid with mother of pearl.
Nya takes us through the takeoff paces, including a brief safety presentation.
“First time on a chopper?” Nya asks when we start lifting off the ground, her voice a little garbled through the headset.
