by L. E. DeLano
She rolls her eyes. “Finn. If you say we’ve all misunderstood the situation, then I’ll believe you. Just make sure you aren’t misplacing your trust, okay?”
“You just said you believed me, but you think I’m being lied to,” I say. “Make up your mind.”
“I’m not talking about his reasons for going away. I’m talking about your heart.” She sets the snow globe down on the bed, and her hand comes up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Jessa, you fell hard for that boy, and when he left…” She stops for a moment and takes a breath. “Why do you think I started family dinners again? You’ve been so lost, honey—it’s been hard to watch. I’ve just been trying to connect.”
I don’t know what to say, so I trace the designs on my bedspread with my finger.
“He may have had a legitimate reason for being gone and not contacting you all that time, but there’s obviously more that went on with you. I don’t need to know what.” She raises her hand when she sees me start to interrupt. “I mean, I want to know what, but it’s your choice not to talk about it, and I respect that. Just … be careful, okay? I know what it’s like to have it all pulled out from under you.”
That’s the closest my mom has ever come to talking about her divorce with me. I give her a nod.
“Thanks. I’m okay, though. Really.”
“It also hasn’t escaped my notice that Ben’s been stopping by.…”
“Mom.” I give her a look.
She gets to her feet and grabs the basket. “All right, all right—enough interfering. I’m just doing the mom thing and reminding you of all the people who’ve been here for you. As opposed to those who have not.”
“Duly noted.”
She heads for the door and gives me one more hesitant smile over her shoulder before she pulls it closed behind her. I stare down at the poem again and realize that the other me might be onto something, after all. I’ve lived in darkness for the last six weeks, and now people are trying to coax me out of it before I’m ready. I hadn’t realized how closely they were all watching me.
The thought sinks in, and I find my eyes drifting to my window. The blinds are closed, but something trails down my spine—an inkling—and I walk over to it. My fingers slip between the louvres, pushing them apart enough for me to see out into the backyard.
And there he is.
He’s standing just under the old oak in the far corner of the yard, half in the shadows. He must have been looking up at my window because he starts forward when he sees me watching. I pull my hand out and the blind closes again.
Is he going to stay out there all night?
He has no counterpart here. And last time Rudy had someone—I realize now it was probably Eversor—set Finn up with a room and money and a phone. He has none of that now, unless Mario made arrangements somehow. Knowing Finn, it wouldn’t matter. He’ll sleep in the backyard in the freezing December cold just to keep an eye on me. Too bad Mom didn’t buy the lawn tractor like Danny wanted—at least then Finn might have had a shed to sleep in.
I start to reach for the blinds again, but I clench my hand into a fist, refusing to open them and look. I know I’ll see him out there, hoping to see me. I open the blinds a hairbreadth. Just enough to look out.
He’s in the middle of the backyard now, just standing. His hands are shoved down in his pockets.
I drop the blind and dive for my bed, punching the pillow down, determined to keep the tears at bay.
13
Betrayed
Mario doesn’t notice me when I enter the classroom, and I don’t say a word, choosing instead to stare at him for a minute while I figure out whether or not I’m going to hit him or yell at him.
I’ll probably hit him. I seem to be on a roll with that one. He’s slumped down sideways at his desk, rubbing a tired hand over his face.
“Rotten day?” I ask sarcastically.
He takes the hand off his face and straightens in his chair. “We’re down a Dreamer, remember? There’s a lot going on. And don’t forget I’ve got two Travelers now.”
“I’m aware of that.”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. He pushes back from the desk and gets to his feet.
“Jessa, I’m sure you’re upset.…”
“By what? The uninvited pirate I found in my bedroom today?”
“I invited him. He had to have help to get to your reality,” he says with a put-upon sigh. “Not that I had much choice. He’s a very determined guy.”
“Why, Mario?”
“Things are getting … complicated. Eversor is on the move again, and it won’t be long before you’re back in her crosshairs. You need someone to train you hands-on—I can only do so much from here—and you need an extra set of eyes watching your back.”
“You know what I mean. Why him?”
“I thought you’d feel more comfortable with someone you know and trust,” he says. “I know you’ve dreamed about him since you last saw each other.”
I feel myself flush a dull red, which is silly considering this place is all in my mind.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Mario says kindly. “He’s dreamed about you, too.”
“Of course he dreams about his Jessa—”
“Not just his Jessa,” Mario replies. “You specifically. And as such, I thought the two of you could help each other.”
“All we have in common is that we’re two people who barely know each other and we both travel.”
“You know each other pretty well, whether you want to admit it or not. And you’ve both lost someone,” he adds quietly. “You understand each other and the issues at stake in ways no one else could. That makes you a good team. And for what it’s worth—you can be a big help to him.”
“How do you figure that?”
“He’s here for one reason only, or so he thinks. Vengeance. He wants Eversor.”
“So do I.” My voice is cold and hard and I mean every one of those three words.
“You know her on sight. He doesn’t. But you do know him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mario leans back against his desk. “It means he needs to shift his focus. That kind of single-mindedness isn’t going to serve our purposes.”
“You mean your purposes,” I say. “Getting Eversor suits me and Finn just fine. And don’t we need to stop her before she kills us all?”
“I’ve got enough going on without a pirate with a thirst for blood getting in the way and making rash choices without supervision.”
“So he’s my bodyguard and I’m his babysitter,” I say bitterly.
“It’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is.”
He lets out a sigh. “I’m not going to fight about this, Jessa. What’s done is done. Finn is here, and he’s staying for as long as it takes.”
I start to object again and he holds up a hand.
“And before you go quitting again, I’ll remind you that you’re not the only one involved anymore. Eversor is going to eliminate anyone she perceives as a threat or an obstacle. You’re not doing anyone any good hiding in your room.”
“I’m not hiding,” I retort. “I’m going after her. I just don’t want him to get in my way.”
“So don’t let him. He’ll fall in line soon enough.”
I make a huffing sound. I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.
“Get some sleep, Jessa,” Mario says as he walks me to the door. “We could both use some rest.”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “Hey—about you-know-who. He’s sleeping in my backyard. In the cold. Can’t you set him up with something?’
“I did. Come next semester, he’s reenrolled in school—they think he was pulled for homeschooling, by the way. He’s also got his room back at the YMCA. My guess is that he doesn’t want to be that far from you.”
“Great.”
“He’s worried about you, Jessa. He can’t help but hover.”
He’s worried about losin
g his one sure link to Eversor, I think. This isn’t about me. Not for him. Not anymore.
And it’s better that way.
14
Motivations
I open the back door, zipping up my hoodie before I step outside. At first, I don’t see him, and I walk a little farther out.
“’Bout time,” he chides, falling into step beside me. “It’s nearly noon.”
“Sorry. I slept late.”
“Did you sleep well, at least?”
I give him a disgruntled look. “I slept.”
“And now you’ve come out to see how I’ve fared overnight.”
“I came out to tell you not to do this again. Mario says you’ve got a room. Use it.”
“Not bloody likely, love.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He raises an eyebrow in response. “I haven’t spoken with Mario since the night before my arrival. Any news on our missing friends?” he asks.
“Still no sign of Rudy. And Eversor hasn’t resurfaced since the museum on Friday.”
“Jessa!” Danny’s voice calls me from the doorway. “Oh, hi, Finn!”
Finn takes a breath and wipes the dark look off his face to smile at my brother. “Hello, Danny. Good to see you again.”
“Want to watch me play Minecraft?”
“Later, perhaps. I need to speak with your sister first.”
“Okay. Jessa, Mom says come and eat something.”
“I will,” I say over my shoulder. “Ask Mom if he can have lunch with us.”
I glance over at Finn, and he looks surprised. “You are hungry, aren’t you?” I ask.
“Very,” he says. “But I’d assumed I was persona non grata in your household.”
“Who told you that?”
“Danny. He seems to think your mother isn’t impressed.”
“It’ll be fine. Come on, it’s freezing out here.” I motion him to follow me, and we head inside. Mom is sliding the last of a pile of grilled cheese sandwiches onto a platter as Danny grabs two and runs off to the family room.
“There’s tomato soup in the pot,” she says, pointing to the stove with her spatula. “Hello, Finn.” She gives him a forced smile and I sigh with relief when she gets his name right.
“Hello,” he says, smiling back. “Thank you for your kind invitation. It smells delicious.”
She looks at him oddly and I realize why: She’s never heard his Irish lilt before.
“Ha!” I pin on a bright smile and give a little laugh. “My mom isn’t used to hearing your accent. Last time you were here, you were practicing for that play, remember? You were using your American accent?”
“Right.” He gives a nod and a smile. “I gave it up. Apparently, I’m terribly unbelievable.”
Mom’s eyebrows go up. “Well, you fooled me,” she says. “And it’s only grilled cheese and tomato soup. Nothing fancy.”
“Your hospitality is welcome all the same,” he says, reaching for a plate and helping himself to a sandwich.
I dip out a couple of mugs of soup, and my mother leans in and lowers her voice. “Is he coming to the performance?”
“I don’t know,” I answer quietly.
She gives Finn a furtive glance. “Didn’t you invite Ben?”
Uuuuuuugh. I almost smack my own forehead until I remember I have a ladle in my hand.
“Something wrong?” Finn asks, picking up on my body language.
“Nothing. Just nerves.”
He looks at me curiously and I explain. “I started dance classes a little over a month ago. The studio always does a holiday performance for the retirement home where my mom and Danny work. Today will be my first performance with them.”
“Splendid.” He looks intrigued. “What sort of dance is it?”
“It’s a jazz number.” I feel my cheeks redden. “It’s kind of silly. Sparkly red tuxedo jackets and giant candy canes.”
“It sounds brilliant. I look forward to it.”
“Hey, don’t you need to be getting ready?” Mom asks. “Dancers have to report by one, don’t they?”
“That’s right. I’d better go pack my bag.” I grab my mug of soup, passing one over to Finn. Then I scoop up a sandwich onto a plate and motion with my chin for him to follow me up to my room.
Once we’re behind closed doors, I set my food down on the dresser and rummage through my closet for my dance bag.
“You were saying something about Eversor?” Finn asks around a mouthful of grilled cheese.
“Huh?” I peek my head back out of the closet, with my red leotard in my hand.
“When we were speaking before,” he prompts. “You were about to tell me something about her.”
“Oh … uh…” My voice is muffled as I root around for my dance shoes. “Mario thinks she may be trying to steal something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, and he won’t say till he’s sure,” I say, emerging from the closet. “Didn’t Mario tell you everything that’s been going on?”
He makes a face and reaches for his mug of soup. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”
“Since when?” I mean, Mario sent him here, after all.
“Since I threw a padlock at his head.”
“A padlock?”
“I don’t know how he fashions your meeting room, love, but mine looks like the captain’s cabin of my ship. He shows me my instructional scenes through my porthole. I have a large trunk at the foot of my bed, and the lock was within reach.”
“You threw it at his head?” I snort. “I mean, it’s not like you can hurt him.”
“I let my temper get the better of me. But I suppose it finally made him realize how very determined I was to find my way to you. He’d pulled me into the dreamscape to address my excessive traveling, you see.”
He gives me a pointed look, and I wet my lips nervously. “You were looking that hard for me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“But you already knew I wasn’t your Jessa.”
“So I was told. I suppose I had to see for myself.”
“Well, now you know.”
“I wanted to know that you were safe as well,” he says quietly. “And here you are.”
“And here you are.”
We stare at each other a moment. The pause that stretches between us goes on entirely too long, and I’m startled by the sound of my mother’s voice.
“Jessa! Leaving in fifteen!”
“Okay! Be right down!” I call back before taking a breath and addressing Finn. “Listen … it would be better if you wait here. I mean, not ‘in my bedroom’ here, but also not going with me to the performance.”
He’s drinking his soup while I’m stammering through my request, and he’s got one eyebrow up and it’s really irking me.
“Not a chance,” he replies, setting the mug down.
“It’s not going to be me dancing anyway,” I say. “I mean, it’s me, but it’s a different me. She’s the dancer.”
He’s smirking now. “That’s cheating, love.”
“It’s not cheating. And stop calling me that,” I huff, pulling my tights out of my drawer and shoving them into my dance bag. “She lost my mom in her reality, and she always wished that Mom had seen her dance. So I’m kind of helping her out.”
“Really?” He breaks into a genuine grin. “We’ve more in common with every passing moment. Remind me to tell you how I became a magician.”
“A magician?”
“It’s quite the tale, I assure you.”
I shake my head to clear it. “I mean it, Finn. I need you to stay here. There will be kids from my school there—and there’s a rumor going around that you took off with Eversor.”
He makes a face. “Then this will be the perfect opportunity for me to disabuse them of that notion.”
He is not going to make this easy.
“Ben will be there,” I finally grit out. “He’s a … friend. And I need to talk to him first so you’re not
a surprise.”
He sits up straighter, and all his teasing humor is gone. “Ben? Who the devil is Ben?”
“I told you—he’s a friend. He was with me when you—when you died. Here. He knows about us.”
“Us?” His eyebrows go up.
“Travelers.”
“So what’s the problem then? If he’s a friend?”
The way he said that last word makes it decidedly uncomfortable.
“He’s my friend. Not yours.”
“I see.” He says it quietly, way too quietly.
“So … you need to hang back. I don’t need you there.”
“And you, love”—he stresses the word on purpose—“need to learn not to give orders. As I recall, only one of us has an officer’s rank. I’ll be going, and that’s an end to it.”
“You can’t order me around!” I huff. “If we’re going to work together, you need to back the hell off. I’m not your Jessa. I’m not going to let you walk all over me.”
“I’m here to do a job,” he shoots back. “Until it’s done—you won’t be rid of me.”
I open my mouth to tell him no, and then I close it again. Why waste my breath? He’s clearly not going to leave my side.
“Fine.” I reach for my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m texting Ben to tell him I’m transferring over now so there’s no point in him even coming.” I finish the message and push my dance shoes and makeup into my bag and zip it shut. “Leaving now is a better idea, anyway. This way she gets more time with Mom.”
I start to put my hand to the mirror over my dresser, and I give him an unfriendly glance over my shoulder.
“You coming?”
“Do I have a counterpart over there?”
“Not that I’ve met. I’ll have to pull you through.”
He’s smiling in a smug way that makes me grit my teeth.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says.
15
The Gloves Come Off
“She’s looking at you again,” I say, giving Finn a nudge.
“She’s been staring at me for nearly ten minutes,” Finn says under his breath. “How many ways can you squeeze a peach? She’ll bruise the lot of them.”
We’re standing in the grocery store in Arizona running errands until the recital is over—but this is an Arizona unlike ours, and this grocery store is beyond anything I’ve ever seen before.
