Impostor by Susanne Winnacker Page A

and Kate. I crept closer and peeked around the corner. They stood facing each other by the door to Alec’s room.
    “I can’t read your thoughts but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re thinking!” Kate hissed.
    “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Alec said. There was an edge to his voice, though he was much calmer than Kate.
    “Don’t play dumb. Everyone notices how you are around her. It’s ridiculous.”
    “This discussion is ridiculous,” Alec said. He turned to go into his room but Kate gripped his arm.
    “I know you two had movie night last week. You didn’t even tell me.”
    “Kate, I don’t have to ask your permission for every little thing I do.”
    “We’re in this together. Remember what Major said.” She lowered her voice so I didn’t catch her next words, but Alec’s face darkened. He stormed into his room with Kate close behind, the door closing behind them.
    What had Major said?
    No matter what, one thing was clear: they were fighting because of me. I wasn’t sure if I should feel elated or worried. Kate was a force to be reckoned with.
    • • •
    The next morning on my way to the dojo, I actually considered breaking my leg so I wouldn’t have to face Alec. But I thought better of it, since Major would probably insist I do training with my arms.
    I arrived a few minutes early to mentally prepare myself. But when I approached the entrance, Alec was already there, sitting on a bench and staring at his feet. A few strands of black hair fell into his face. For a moment, I was sure he was crying. I froze halfway into the dojo, not sure what to do. I’d never seen Alec cry. He was the epitome of self-control. I inched slowly toward him but he didn’t look up, though his body tensed. I touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
    His muscles shifted under my fingers as though he was bracing himself for his reply, or maybe fighting against it. “I had a talk with Major—about his expectations. He wants me to take more responsibility and—” He stopped midsentence. Anger surged through me. Why was Major pressuring Alec? Sometimes I wondered if he saw Alec as his successor and kept challenging him to determine if he was up for the job.
    “Tell him you’re not ready for it,” I said.
    He looked up, his eyes tortured but devoid of tears. “It’s not that easy.”
    I gently kneaded his shoulder, fighting the urge to hug him. “You know I’m there for you if you need me. And you know you can talk to me about anything.”
    For a moment he looked like he wanted to, like I’d broken through his mask of duty, but then he shook his head. “No. I wish I could, but I can’t talk to you about it.”
    I tried to hide how much that sentence had wounded me. “Then talk to Kate. Maybe she can help you.” The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I’d rather have Kate take care of Alec than have him suffer alone.
    “Kate wouldn’t understand. She would just agree with Major. Her first priority has always been the FEA and that won’t ever change. I’ve got to deal with this alone.”
    How could he be with someone who didn’t make him a priority?
    “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this,” he said as he stood, letting my hand slip off his shoulder, bringing a few steps of distance between us.
    “I think we need to talk about yesterday,” he said.
    That was the last thing I wanted to do, especially when he was in such a strange mood. I started wrapping tape around my palms to prepare them for my training, adding one layer after the other. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
    “We have to get this out of the way. We have a job to do. We can’t have something—anything—distracting us. Major’s worried it’ll interfere with the mission.”
    I dropped the tape. “What’s Major got to do with it? Did you tell him about yesterday?”
    “No, of course not. He noticed something was . . . going on. Everyone has.” He scanned my face,