Perfect Pitch (The Chameleon Effect Book 2)

by Alex Hayes

  Papa glances up from his crossword, which lays nearly complete on the kitchen table. Crow’s feet crinkle up at the edges of his eyes. “Maybe we should get a dog.”

  My brow torques. In fact, maybe my whole face does. Dogs have got to be more trouble than they’re worth. Not that I’d know. The foster homes I lived in rarely had enough food for the people, let alone pets.

  Mama steps out of the pantry with a mason jar of flour. “There’s no one dangerous out in those woods, Tom. We’re in the wilds.”

  Papa sets down his ballpoint and rubs his chin. “Exactly. The wilds. Black bear country. And the moose are no pushovers either. Get between one of them and her calf, and you’d be in big trouble.”

  I glance over the granite bar into the living room and study the moose head mounted above the fireplace. Its rack is as wide as I am tall. “How’s a dog going to help against a moose?”

  “They mark their territory. Bark. Have teeth. Enough to scare a wild creature off, I reckon.” Papa nods to himself. “Wish I knew people in this neck of the woods. If we were still in Vermont, I’d know exactly whose bitch had pups ready for weaning.”

  Mama grabs a pack of butter from the fridge. “Well, we’re in New York now, and just as well. I’d rather not rush into that sort of commitment.”

  Papa chuckles. “A dog’s hardly a commitment.”

  After adding raisins to her pile of ingredients, Mama brushes the back of a hand across her pencil gray bangs, then reaches for a basin. “But you’ve got to walk them all the time.”

  Papa laughs out loud and slaps the table. “That’s the whole reason this discussion came up. Cadi’s been out walking the woods at dawn and dusk for the past several weeks. I should’ve thought of this sooner.”

  Mama’s hand drops to the counter. “Well, she’ll have company soon, right?”

  “I will?” I stare at Mama. Company on my trips to the crystal tree cave are the last thing I’m looking for. I really need to tell them about the tree.

  Mama gives Papa a pointed look. “You didn’t tell her?”

  An apologetic smile shapes his lips. “Didn’t want to get her hopes up, but Shri just confirmed she’s accepting the offer.”

  Huh? “What offer?” As much as I love Shri, the timing sucks if it means her coming out here and getting in the way of my crystal tree duty. She’s way too smart, inquisitive and observant.

  Telling my foster parents about the crystal tree is one thing. And I’m having a tough enough time doing that. Telling Shri would be dangerous. Not that I don’t trust her, but she knows nothing about me being a lizard creature from another planet.

  Papa’s smile broadens. “I offered her and Dean a job for the summer.”

  Dean? It’s all I can do to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Dean is… God, I don’t know what Dean is, except that he definitely cannot be trusted. It’s because of him I had to leave Vermont in the first place.

  The thought of seeing him again sends my blood pressure into the outer stratosphere. But him working here? For two whole months?

  Memories flood back. The kiss under the mistletoe. Dean witnessing me using telekinesis to free Papa from the overturned tractor and leaking what he saw to his best friend, who told the whole world on Facebook.

  Then how Dean fell on his proverbial sword and proclaimed he loved me.

  Loved me? Ugh.

  Once I got here, I thought I was safe.

  Papa sighs. “Unfortunately, Dean turned down the offer.”

  Oh, thank god. The tension in my body withers. I bite my tongue before I say, There’s nothing unfortunate about it.

  “But I left the option open to him,” Papa adds.

  Argh. Just when I thought I was safe.

  Mama glances at me as she rests against the counter holding a recipe card. She knows what came to pass between Dean and me, that the last thing I want is to see him again. “Why’d he turn you down, Tom?”

  A good question, which might give me a clue as to how likely Dean will change his mind.

  Papa leans back in his chair. “His younger brother needs some caring. Dean told me a while back his mother works long hours and weekends. A hairdresser, if I remember rightly. And besides, Dean thinks Matt still needs him at the farm.”

  A reasonable assumption given Shri’s departure. She texted me a few weeks ago to say Matt gave her notice. Guess I should have responded, but I didn’t know what to say. Everything that went down in Vermont was so awkward. Then I found Idris and wanted nothing more than to put the whole episode behind me.

  Mama looks up from her recipe. “Have you heard from Matt?”

  Papa’s brow bunches up, then loosens again. “Spoke to him last week.”

  “And how are things running without you?” Mama was pleased when Matt offered to take the farm off their hands. She knew the place was getting too much for Papa, even before the accident.

  Papa sighs. “Very well. The herd had twenty-one kids this spring.”

  Twenty-one? The thought of having that many babies makes me rub my belly. I catch myself and stop. Having babies is a place I don’t want to go right now.

  “He’s up for the idea of expansion, anyway,” Papa continues. “And he has a brother who wants to go in on the business. I think Matt could do well for himself, as long as he keeps his products high-end. Artisanal and all.”

  “And loves what he’s doing,” Mama adds.

  Papa’s expression turns sad, then he straightens his shoulders. “Water under the bridge. We’ve got more important work to do now. Right, Cadi?” He winks at me.

  I smile. “Right.” Twenty-four family-size cabins to build. Papa wants to spend the summer laying out plans. If anyone asks, the Jacobsens are building a vacation resort, but in reality, the cabins are for twenty-one paired Livran teens and their three carers.

  When Mr. Scrim told them about the other Livran kids and that we needed to bring them together, Papa got all excited and suggested we settle them here. Only the cabin isn’t near big enough for that many kids.

  Yeah, the Jacobsens know their foster daughter, her boyfriend and her social worker come from another planet, which makes my weirdness over telling them about the crystal tree seem like small beans. Silliness.

  However, we didn’t tell them about our shape-shifting ability. And I’m going to have to mention that, too, when I get around to telling them about the gooey pink ar’n bala growing in that cave. On their property.

  I push the thought away and refocus on my bigger concern. What if Dean does come? What will he do? Proclaim he still loves me?

  I shudder.

  He can’t find out what I am or about Idris, let alone who Idris really is.

  In a moment of weakness, I’d let slip to Dean Idris’s Livran name. Dre—short of Dresandar.

  Dre, the childhood friend I’d barely remembered. My partner, I’d joked to Dean. Little had I known then, that’s exactly who Dre was. My bond mate. My life partner.

  As I head for the back door, I ask Papa, “Do you think Dean will make it out here?”

  He clears his throat and shrugs. “I guess if it’s meant to be, Cadi, it’s meant to be.”

  6

  Dean

  If I thought I’d make it out the door on the last day of school without seeing Jake’s know-it-all smirk, I was clearly deluding myself.

  “Hey, Whittier.”

  His voice breaks into my personal space as I tug the final crumpled layer of old homework assignments from the bottom of my locker and stuff it into a plastic bag destined for the trash.

  I slam the locker door and stare into steel-gray eyes as he saunters up to me, amazingly on his own.

  “What happened? Your groupies take off without you?” I swing my backpack onto a shoulder and scan the rapidly emptying hall for the nearest garbage can.

  Jake grins like he thinks I’m a hoot, then he nods, eyes narrowing. “Thought you were headed to state in the fall. Bryce just told me you ain’t.”

  State o
n a football scholarship. Our discussion about that was months ago, before Gran told me about the trust funds and I got accepted to MIT.

  I lift an eyebrow. “Guess I changed my mind.”

  He shifts into a casual stance, one hand sliding into the pocket of his over-tight blue denims. “So you found a better school?”

  Why does he give a crap where I’m going? “Decided I couldn’t commit to four years of football.”

  His brow furrows. “How else you planning to get through college?”

  “Not sure I’m going to college.” I hope the down-and-out approach will steal his interest and make him go away, even though there’s plenty of truth to my statement.

  Jake shakes his bristly dark head. “Because of your brother?”

  Keep it simple, stupid. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  My former best friend knows more about the reality of my home life than anyone. And to his credit, he never once used that knowledge to humiliate me, at school or online.

  Unlike what he did to Cadi. My fingers clench thinking about that.

  His chin lifts in a half nod. “Too bad. Thought maybe we’d play together again.”

  My eyebrow creeps up. What’s he hoping? That now high school’s done, I’ll forget all the shit he put me through over the past six months? Just toss it away like the trash from the bottom of my locker?

  Jake’s never going to stop being an asshole. When I was his friend, I ignored the way he treated people—people like Cadi and Shri—but that didn’t make him any less of a prick. It just made me more of one for tolerating his shit.

  I drop a half shrug. “Sorry to disappoint.” Then I turn and walk away.

  Shri stands in the shade of a broad maple, waiting for me. Her car’s still in the shop, the cost of fixing it going up by the hour.

  “Hey, you wanna go somewhere?” I ask when I reach her side.

  Her head tilts. “Like?”

  I shrug. “We could grab lunch. There’s that café in the bookstore downtown.”

  She adjusts her purse strap and falls into step beside me. “You don’t think every other high school senior is going to be hanging out there?”

  I click my remote and the car alarm chirps. “Nah. A bunch of them are heading out to the lake, and the rest’ll hit the fast food places at the mall. Besides, no one’s gonna want to read this soon after closing their last textbook.”

  Shri climbs into the passenger seat and drops her bag between her feet. “True. Except for nerds, of course.”

  I chuckle, then shake my head. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve gone anywhere together other than work or school?”

  Her lips twist into a smirk. “Desperate times require desperate measures, I guess.”

  I’d laugh, if there wasn’t so much truth to that comment. “Work sucks without you, y’know?”

  Shri tips her head against the seatback. “Uh, thanks. I think.”

  I glance over before turning out of the parking lot. “I’m serious.”

  “Well, I’ve gotta admit life sucks without work, too. Not to say I miss dragging my ass out of bed at four in the morning, but…”

  “You miss all those kids and nannies?”

  She glances at me and laughs. “Yeah. And the occasional buck.”

  I grin. “Hey, who’re you calling a buck?”

  As we head through the bookstore, the caption on an end-of-aisle book display catches my eye. Are you trapped in a toxic relationship?

  The question makes me hesitate long enough to catch the book’s title and author. Toxic Relationships, by Brandon Williams.

  I move on, then realize Shri has picked up a copy, and stop to wait for her.

  She reads the back matter, returns the book to its place and catches up. “That book reminds me of your buddy, Jake.”

  I hold the door into the adjoining café. “I didn’t need a book to shine the light on him.”

  She slides into a slatted chair at a table for two and crosses her forearms on its glass surface. “So what did shine the light?”

  I drop into the seat opposite. “Cadi.” Shri holds my gaze, clearly waiting for more. “She pointed out how I acted around him.”

  “You mean acted like him?”

  I study her features. “Yeah. But it was you who got me to do something about it.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Me? I figured Jake’s Facebook smear campaign about her did that.”

  My eyes shift to the table as I shake my head. “I could’ve sunk back into Jake’s quagmire pretty easily.”

  Shri’s fingers shift over the smooth tabletop in a slow circle. “So why didn’t you?”

  I glance up again. “Because of the way he treated you. The Addams Family bullshit.”

  A smile creeps onto her face, then she starts to chuckle.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Morticia is actually quite refined and very beautiful.” Shri purses her lips, restraining a smile. “There are a lot worse things he could have called me.”

  “He still meant to insult you.”

  Her smile widens. “But he didn’t succeed.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Well, he pissed me off.”

  She tugs her lower lip between her teeth, eyes still shining. “I know.”

  I stare at her. “You’re amazing. Did you know that?”

  She laughs. “Why? Because I refused to be bothered by the taunts of a loser like Jake?” She looks thoughtful, eyes drifting to a café poster and back. “Would you believe me if I told you this look…” she pulls at her fitted black jacket, indicating her Goth-style clothing, “started as a bet?” Her eyes turn up toward the ceiling. “No. To be honest, more of a social experiment.”

  What she’s suggesting is hard to swallow.

  She chuckles again at my expression. “I had this friend at my last school who got teased all the time. She thought the teasing was all about her, not the way she looked. I told her I’d dress all Goth at my new school and see if I got the same treatment. I did, so I won. And she sent me her wardrobe.”

  I frown. “Why’d she send you her clothes?”

  “Because that was the bet. If she lost, she changed her style and I got all of her black clothing. I figured I might as well wear it.” Shri tilts her head. “Besides, it was fun.”

  “Fun? Being picked on?” I’m incredulous.

  “Yeah. Because it never felt like Jake was picking on me, but on the Goth girl I played. Which meant the joke was on him.”

  I glance down at my menu. “So after today, what? You’ll get rid of the black?”

  “An overnight transformation might be tough. My closet’s pretty monochromatic right now. Besides, I’m kind of attached to the purple lipstick.” She studies me a moment. “Would you care if I did change everything?”

  I frown. “Why should I? What you wear is your business.”

  She nods as if some other question in her mind has been answered. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

  I blink at the question and drop my eyes to the menu. “Do you?”

  “There’s only one vegetarian option, so my choice is easy.”

  She’s vegetarian. Shit, how did I not know that?

  “Grilled ham and cheese,” I answer.

  “Great.” She gets to her feet. “This one’s on me.”

  I shake my head. “No way. I asked you here.”

  A smile I can’t quite decipher slides across her face. “Maybe, but I owe you like a hundred grilled ham and cheeses for all the rides you’ve given me since my car died.”

  I sigh. “Those were on the house.”

  “Then so is this.”

  There’s little point in arguing, because I know it’ll only annoy her. “Okay, but can I take a raincheck on the other ninety-nine?”

  She laughs and strides toward the counter.

  As she places our order, I study her profile, trying to imagine Shri wearing anything besides black eye makeup and purple lipstick. It’s funny that how we dress comes to
define who we are, even to ourselves. The whole judge a book by its cover thing, I guess.

  Then realization hits me. This could be it. After graduation tomorrow, I might never see her or her Goth getup ever again.

  The thought is mind-blowing. I’ve worked with Shri, hung out at school with her, known her for two years, but it isn’t until now, when our time together is almost up, that I realize how much I value her friendship.

  The sense of imminent loss dumps over me like icy water.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  I take a quick breath and look up as Shri places two water glasses on the table.

  “Yeah, sure. Just…”

  Her brow pinches. “Just what?” Her voice has a husky edge to it.

  I force a smile. “Reality checking in. I can’t quite believe high school’s over.”

  Her eyes meet mine across the table. “Yeah. That feeling’s been hitting me all week, like I’m snapping yearbook pictures in my head whenever I think this might be the last time I see someone.” She smirks. “Sad thing is, there’re only a handful of people I’ll miss.”

  “Me too,” I admit. “And a good few I’d rather forget.”

  With graduation falling on a workday, I’d asked Matt for the day off.

  However, the need for cash prompts me to drop by at the farm for my paycheck. I’ve a gift to buy.

  Matt looks surprised to see me, but breaks from his task in the barn to fetch my money. “Come on in,” he says, rubbing a hand through his wheaten stalks of hair, like something’s on his mind.

  Walking into the farmhouse still feels strange now Matt owns the place. I can’t forget the smell of Mrs. Jacobsen’s fresh-baked bread and cookies. The kitchen was always a welcome place, even more so when Cadi arrived.

  “Have a seat.” Matt gestures to the kitchen table while he grabs an envelope from a letter rack on the counter.

  He avoids eye contact as he pulls out a chair across from me and drops the envelope onto the table. “I know the timing of this isn’t the best, Dean, being the start of summer and all, but I’m afraid I have to give you notice.”

  I don’t speak. I just stare at him, while Shri’s words over the phone to Tom Jacobsen slip through my mind, again. Writing was on the wall though, you know…