Diving In: Grover Cleveland Academy, #2

By Jessie Sanders

After the events of Into the Flames, the first book of the Grover Cleveland Academy series, Rahab Carmichael is strangely content. For the first time in her life, Rahab has friends like family and a school that feels like home.
But as the academy moves into a new semester, Rahab realizes that families and homes are never perfect. As the weather turns frigid, Rahab finds the promise of Bracken Carnegie’s affections cooling just as dramatically. He won’t talk to her, spend time with her, or even look at her. What will it take to thaw his heart? Does she even want to try anymore?
Confusing Rahab even more is the appearance of Scotty Smith. Cute, kind, and totally normal, Scotty is also clearly into her. He’s also right in the middle of a rash of weird thefts that have been occurring around Boston. Scout wants to investigate the crimes, but Rahab isn’t sure how it will affect her relationship with Scotty.
But the investigations quickly shove boy trouble on the backburner. A mysterious woman called Aidan is behind the fires and robberies spreading across the city, and Rahab’s ragtag band of superpowered teens may be the only ones who can put an end to her sinister schemes.
Who is this new villain? What does she really want? How much destruction can she truly cause? It’s up to Rahab to dive into the icy waters and find out. But can she overcome the bone chilling shock in time to save her friends, her school, and her city?

Diving In is the second book in the Grover Cleveland Academy Series. Approximately 70,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stormy Night Publishing
• Release date: Jul 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497723436

Jessie Sanders

Jessie Sanders reads, writes, and parents in Oklahoma. She is a freelance editor of fiction and the author of the Grover Cleveland Academy series.

Book preview

Chapter One

Incorrigible. The word kept running through Rahab’s head as she flicked a red cigarette lighter on and off. It was the only word she could think of to describe Bracken Carnegie, and the word was taking over her brain until there was no room for anything else, except the image of his smirking face. Why wouldn’t he ask her out already? Didn’t he like her anymore?

The mesmerizing sound of the flint sparking combined with the bright orange flame was probably the only thing that was keeping her from screaming in frustration. That, and knowing that Mrs. Munks absolutely did not tolerate screaming in the library. Rahab let go of the trigger and flipped the lighter through her fingers like she had seen Bracken do, then she fumbled and it fell to the ground.

As she reached down to grab it, she heard the stomping of boots behind her, many bookshelves away.

Good morning, Mrs. Munks, Scout said.

Good morning, Miss Wren, Mr. Hawkins, Mrs. Munks replied in her crisp, owlish voice. Snowing again?

Yes, Scout said. Sorry if we track any into the library. I’m trying to stamp it all off my boots. There was more stomping as if to prove a point.

Don’t worry about it, dear, Mrs. Munks replied. I’ll put down some more mats.

Rahab stuffed the lighter in her pocket and picked up the book that she had wedged between her leg and the cushion of her club chair. She flipped to a page and held it in front of her face, trying to act casual, just as Scout and Hawkins entered their alcove.

Oh, hey, guys, Rahab said, not lowering her book.

Hey, Scout said, jumping into her chair across from Rahab.

Your book is upside down. Hawkins settled more slowly into his own club chair and shook his head to swing some of his long hair out of his eyes.

Rahab blushed and shut the book again. When she looked up, she could tell that Scout and Hawkins were thinking to each other. She had become used to that look over the few months that she had known them. She hated how it made her feel like they were talking about her behind her back. What’s up with you guys?

Scout gave a last glare at Hawkins and turned to Rahab. The snowflakes in her strawberry blond hair were already starting to melt. Hawkins has something he wants to talk about, but he wants to wait for Bracken to get here. Which may be never.

Why, has Bracken said something to you? Rahab asked, her heart preparing to beat faster.

No, why would he talk to me? That’s the point, we never know if he’s actually coming around or not. He never tells us what’s going on. If he wants to be one of us, why can’t he act like it? Scout crossed her arms.

We should just tell him to forget us altogether, Rahab muttered.

What, you’re giving up on him already? Scout asked.

I don’t know. Rahab avoided Scout’s gaze.

He’ll be here, Hawkins said.

What, can you see the future now too? Rahab asked.

I know you’re frustrated with him, but you’ve got to give him time, Hawkins told her, blinking serenely.

Rahab didn’t want to reply. Incorrigible was still taking up most of her brain, and it was making her unable to see clearly.

You all look like you’re waiting for me or something, Bracken said, coming up behind Rahab.

Her ears turned red, and she turned slowly to look at him. He looked the same as ever: white-blond hair, smirk, and deep blue eyes. Rahab could breathe under water, but when she looked into those eyes, she was certain she knew what drowning felt like.

Yes, we are, Scout said. Sit down so Hawkins can do his talking already.

Hawkins talking. Now there’s something I’d like to hear, Bracken said as he sat down, across from Rahab. His head twisted in all directions as he took in the shelves, the books, the walls. To a casual observer he may have just been looking around new surroundings with curiosity, or browsing the shelves for an interesting book, but Rahab knew what that look meant. He was looking through the shelves, checking to see if there were any intruders around them, anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation.

He used to look at her like that; now he didn’t look at her at all. She swallowed hard and moved her hand to the shape of the lighter inside of her pocket.

I think I may have stumbled onto something important, Hawkins said.

Important? Bracken asked. He looked bored already.

I was reading the Boston Globe this morning—

What are you, an old man? Scout laughed.

Hawkins glared at her through his scraggles. Are you going to let me tell it or not?

Sorry.

Hawkins cleared his throat as if he were really speaking aloud. I was reading about a robbery at the gas station down the street from our school. I think it’s related to the other ones.

Other ones what? Rahab asked. Robberies?

You don’t remember me telling you about the other robberies? There was one two weeks ago, and then another one a day or two after that.

Two weeks ago? Scout asked, tugging on her ear. "Yeah, that’s right, when we almost got killed." She emphasized the killed to convey the drama of everything that had happened that night. I don’t think we remember anything from that week.

Those robberies were at fast food chains, and not very much money was taken, Bracken said. How is that related to this new convenience store thing? And what does it matter if it is?

Didn’t you notice something interesting about those robberies, though? Hawkins asked him.

They were all in Boston? They were all small?

They were always accompanied by a fire.

Yeah, there was a fire the night you almost died, too, Bracken said. Was there also a robbery at the YMCA?

There was a small silence as they all tried to forget what had happened at the YMCA. John Madison was still in the hospital, and Rahab, for one, dreaded the day he was released.

Stop being stupid, Bracken, Scout said finally. This is serious.

So there are fires in the same buildings where there are robberies. That sounds weird, but not something we need to be worried about, Bracken said. Did the police say the fires were started by the robbers?

No, but they do note that they start around the same time. The fires are usually being put out by a manager or somesuch, and then when they turn around next they’re getting robbed.

So they could be being used as a distraction, Scout said. "You can’t really start a fire and not get noticed. But you said that the robberies were small. Very little money. That would indicate the opposite of wanting to get noticed, wouldn’t it?"

I’m not sure what the motivation is, Hawkins said. But there has to be a reason. I looked back at the newspapers that Mrs. Munks keeps on record, and I realized that this has been going on for a long time.

Scout sat up straighter. How long a time?

I’m not sure. I went back a year, which was as far back as I could go. I found two robbery fires in last January alone. All the fires have been attributed to electrical shorts, faulty wiring, that kind of thing. But they’re always in the same building, and around the same time, as a robbery! There’s no way it’s a coincidence.

I agree, Scout said. What else did you find?

A year ago, the fires started out very large, and usually did some serious damage before they were put out. Some of them even arced over to nearby buildings and hurt people. Now the fires are smaller and being put out quickly. I bet there are even a lot of robberies where the victims didn’t mention the fires because it didn’t seem important enough to note to the reporters.

Rahab felt cold. Her newly discovered immunity to fire didn’t make this any less creepy.

Bracken had pulled out his pocketknife and started cleaning his nails during this monologue, but he had obviously been paying attention. Okay, so what’s the point in all this? To freak some people out while getting a little pocket change?

Even though I think the fires must be related to the robberies, they might also be accidents.

You just said they weren’t a coincidence, Rahab said.

Coincidence? No. But purposefully malicious, maybe not either. Remember how the fires have been getting smaller over time? I think they didn’t mean for them to happen. That they are just a side effect of their crime.

So to sum up, Bracken said, you think that they are learning to stop the fires that they inadvertently start whenever they rob these small convenience stores and fast food joints. And that they are planning something huge with these very small amounts of money they are stealing.

It may be small now, but who knows how much they have accumulated, Hawkins said. Like I said, I could only go back a year, and there could be a lot more occurrences that were not covered in the newspaper.

Scout pounded her fist. We need to figure out what’s going on. We can’t learn anything just sitting here in the GC library. We need to know who’s behind this, and why.

What does it have to do with us?

Rahab didn’t want to admit that she was wondering the same thing, so she was glad that Bracken had brought it up. But why wouldn’t he look at her?

There have been casualties from the fires that got out of control. Not to mention all the victims who are being threatened in the stores. If people are in danger, we need to help them! Scout said. We need to investigate all this stuff and get clues before more people get hurt!

Investigate? We? Bracken threw his hands up in the air. What do you think ‘we’ are, the Scooby-Doo gang?

No, Scout said, lowering her voice even as it grew in intensity, We’re superheroes.

Bracken’s eyes blazed bright at the word, and he lunged forward in his chair. Don’t use that word.

I can say it or not, it’s still true. Scout tugged on her ear. Look, what’s the point of having all this power if we’re not going to do anything with it?

Point? There is no point. Bracken sat back in his chair, but his eyes were fervently scanning the bookshelves. Making sure nobody was around to hear him.

Scout’s mouth went agape. ‘No point.’ Is this guy serious?

What, you think that we were given these...these...

Superpowers. But Rahab couldn’t say it aloud for fear of sounding as stupid as Scout.

...for some greater purpose? Bracken picked up where he had faltered. We weren’t. It just happened, and we’re left to deal with it.

Says the boy with the Superman tattoo, Scout said.

What’s that supposed to mean? Bracken asked, his hand reaching out to the tattoo on his left upper arm.

You wear the insignia, but do you really understand the guy? Scout asked. He was given a ton of power and he used it for good. If you don’t believe that, why do you have it on your arm?

Bracken rubbed his tattoo. You don’t know anything about me, he said quietly.

We would if you would tell us, Rahab wanted to scream.

Great comeback, Scout said, rolling her eyes at him.

The robberies, Hawkins said aloud, his deep voice snapping them all back to attention.

What’s the plan? Scout turned to Hawkins with a grin. Do we go down to the gas station that was robbed and look for clues, all CSI-style? Or do we question witnesses? Or are you going to make us do the boring part, like researching the past articles in the newspaper to learn about the patterns of the past robberies? Maybe we can pinpoint who—or what—is going to be the next target!

"Yeah, that sounds like a great use of your abilities, Bracken said. What are those again? Talking a lot and generally being a nuisance to everyone around you?"

Scout’s cheeks turned pink, but she stood her ground. We’ve got to start somewhere. It’s better than sitting in this library all day and doing nothing.

Bracken took a deep breath, held it, and then opened his mouth slowly, as if afraid that all his anger would pour out and destroy the entire library otherwise. You don’t seem to understand what I am saying. Even if there is something to this, and there are some masterminds planning petty crimes throughout the city, we have absolutely no obligation to figure out what’s going on. We aren’t meant for some special force of crime fighters. We aren’t meant for anything. We’re just freaks, like everybody says we are.

If you really believe that, then why are you still sitting here? Scout said. Nobody makes you come here. Nobody forces you to participate.

Rahab willed Bracken to turn his head her way, even if just for a split second, but he was still seething at Scout. I’m making sure that you do not go showing off to everybody in school and ruining everything. You all nearly got caught that night, and it better not happen again.

If you’re so worried about your own skin, maybe you should keep it away from us, Scout said. "We wouldn’t want to sully your bad boy reputation with the label of freak superhero."

You’re right, I don’t have time for this. Bracken stood up. You think this is all a game, going around and trying to better the world, but it’s not. Real life isn’t caped crusaders and riding off into the sunset. Nobody in real life wants your help. So just forget it, Jean Wren. And with that he stalked out of the library, grumbling a farewell to Mrs. Munks.

Scout stuck her tongue out at where Bracken had disappeared. ‘Nobody in real life wants your help,’ she repeated with a false deep voice. He’s such a jerk, coming around here and trying to tell us what to do. So, Hawkins, the plan?

Just shut up, Scout! Rahab almost shouted, and her hands curled into fists on the armrests of her chair.

Whoa, what’s your problem? Scout asked, blinking.

Why do you always have to fight with him? He’s obviously coming here for a reason, but then you just keep arguing and running him off.

Scout shrugged. I’m not the one who invited him here. He can come or not for all I care. I’m giving him a chance because you asked us to, but he’s still Bracken Carnegie to me.

Because you keep...arg! Rahab, equally frustrated at Scout and her own inability to vocalize her frustration, shook her head and got up from her chair. I’ve got to go.

I know, Hawkins said. We’ll be here when you get back.

Ray, Scout began, but Rahab waved her hand at her friend and left the library.

She sat down on the stone steps outside, taking deep breaths of the frigid air and then releasing them as clouds of mist. The sun reflected off piles of snow, and she squinted. Why did Scout always have to pick a fight with Bracken? Why did Hawkins have to bring up the whole robbery thing in the first place?

And what if Hawkins was right about the robberies and the electrical fires? What if there was some big conspiracy going on, and people were going to get hurt? What if they were the only ones who could stop it? Maybe they did have some sort of obligation to figure out what it all was about. But how could they, four teenagers, really make a difference?

She pulled out the lighter again and risked touching the flame to her hand. She felt its heat in a detached kind of way, warm and comforting, but not painful. She held her palm against the light for almost a minute before pulling it away. Her skin was still unblemished. Is it just a random happenstance that I’m like this, or am I meant for something else, like Scout thinks? Two weeks ago she had pulled Scout and Hawkins out of a burning building, saving their lives. She wouldn’t have been able to do that if she hadn’t been immune to fire. It was nice to think that someone, something, had known that it was going to happen and had equipped her to handle the situation.

But on the other hand, Scout and Hawkins would never have been in the YMCA with John Madison if they didn’t have powers to begin with. John was only trying to find a way to gain them for himself. So were their powers a good thing? Or did they just end up hurting people, like Bracken thought?

She stared at the flame a little longer before clicking it off and putting it away.

Ray, where are you? Came a thought from Hawkins in the back of her mind.

Still here, Rahab said with an internal sigh.

The library doors opened behind her, and Scout and Hawkins stepped out.

Hey, Scout said, reaching out a hand.

Rahab didn’t shrink away, and Scout put the hand on her shoulder. I’m sorry about getting in an argument with Bracken. I still maintain that he’s a jerk, but I do antagonize him more than I should. So, sorry.

Maybe you should tell him that, Rahab said.

I’ll think about it, Scout said with a smile. Anyway, Hawkins and I are going to run down to the gas station that was robbed, since it’s not far from here, and see if he can pick up any stray thoughts or bad vibes or whatnot. You in?

Not right now.

You sure? Maybe your immunity to fire is just a gateway to all sorts of fire-related things, like being able to tell where a fire started and who started it and why.

I think that’s what detectives and the police are for, Scout, Rahab said. I’m going to go talk to Bracken real quick.

About? Scout waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Rahab didn’t answer, because she didn't know what she was going to talk to him about yet.

Okay, fine. But you’re still in this with us, right?

Rahab nodded. It seemed to be the only answer.

Cool, Scout said. We’ll be back before lunch.

Hey, what about class? Rahab asked.

Gotta go to the scene while the crime is still hot! Scout said, already running down the steps and across the sidewalk. We can go to class any day.

I’ll try to have her back before second period, Hawkins assured Rahab.

She tried to smile. Have fun.

Scout jumped in a pile of snow, kicking it onto the freshly plowed sidewalk, and then the two of them were off to the school gates.

As Rahab watched them go, she thought about where Bracken might be hiding. He was probably smoking, so somewhere that the rest of the school, and particularly the teachers, couldn’t see him was a good place to start. She headed to the basketball court, thinking of the obscurity of the space under the bleachers.

Oh, Rahab, oh my gosh, oh, you’ll never believe what just happened!

Rahab tensed and froze as her roommate flapped ungracefully to her side and latched her pigeon-like claws onto Rahab’s arm. Hi, Amanda, Rahab said. What’s wrong?

Oh my gosh, Rahab, you know my boyfriend, John Madison, right, and how he’s been in the hospital for those terrible third degree burns he got when he was at the Y when it burned down? Amanda said, gasping for air between phrases. Her long, blonde hair, usually so pristine, looked slightly disheveled, and she had smudges of mascara under her eyes.

Rahab forced a smile. Sure. Is he doing all right?

Well, sure, he got discharged from the hospital yesterday. But guess what Dean Schofield did. Amanda paused for a dramatic half-second before continuing, He expelled him! John Madison! Expelled! From Grover Cleveland!

What? Rahab said, and she was almost ashamed about how giddy she felt at the prospect. No more John Madison...

I know, right? John has been going to GC schools since first grade, and then he gets one little misdemeanor and Schofield says he’s out! Amanda flung her hand against her forehead dramatically. It’s not like he’s a murderer or anything, and plus the police haven’t even proved that he was the one who started the fire, but Schofield doesn’t like the idea of some juvenile delinquent in school.

Rahab tried to maintain her composure. Breaking out dancing wouldn’t be a good idea. "Well, we do depend a lot on donations from parents, and