by Marissa Lete
Distantly, I remember an echo I’d heard.
“So what’s your dad up to, then?” my own dad had asked him.
“My dad isn’t around. I never really knew him,” Maverick replied.
“Your father who you never knew?” I mumble, repeating the words I’d remembered.
Maverick winces when he hears my words, and I can see the lines of a painful memory crossing his face. “I did know him, actually. But he didn’t know me,” he tells me, finally. “When I was growing up, I started to notice weird things that would happen around me. Mom would forget I had a doctor’s appointment simply because I didn’t want to go. Dad would forget that the game was on because I was busy playing cars with him. My teacher would forget that I didn’t turn in my homework. I didn’t know it was me, at first. But as I grew older, I started to figure out how it worked.
“When I was about ten, I tried to talk to my parents about it. I tried to convince them that there was something wrong with me, that somehow I could make people forget about things. But they wouldn’t believe me, they thought I was just being paranoid. So they started taking me to counselors, psychologists. People who told me I simply had a disorder.”
I nod, “I know how that feels.”
“One day, I tried to bring it up again, and my dad got really mad. He could be short-tempered at times. He told me I needed to grow up, to stop it with the stupid little games. I begged and begged him to trust me, to listen to me, but he wouldn’t. So I got mad, too.” Maverick hangs his head down. “I didn’t mean to do it, honestly. But I was angry, so I told my dad I wished he would just forget about me. That I hated him and didn’t want him to be part of the family anymore.
“The second he laid his hand on me, I watched the memories fade from his eyes. Me, my mom, everything. I was angry, and I didn’t know how to control it. So it just happened. And I couldn’t take it back.” I watch the muscles in Maverick’s jaw twitching as he pauses. “I made my own dad forget about our family. And my mom watched it all happen.”
A brief silence falls around us. It totally makes sense to me now why Maverick responded the way he did when my dad’s echo asked him about his dad. This couldn’t be easy for him to talk about. Even if he hadn’t told us why his dad was gone, the guilt of knowing it was his fault was probably unbearable.
“I was just a kid,” his voice falters on the word. “I ruined our family. He left that day, and we never saw him again—why would we? We were just strangers to him after that. But his name was on my birth certificate, so when he died last year, and he had no other family to pass down his possessions to, it went to me. Mom kept it from me since I was still a minor, but once I turned eighteen I got all of it.”
“So your Dad was rich?” I ask him, blinking in surprise.
“Not exactly. He won the lottery a few years ago. Six hundred and seventy-five million dollars.”
I suck in a cold breath.
“Of course, he bought the house, and the cars and everything. And with taxes, and estate taxes, and all that stuff, it’s nowhere near that much money anymore…” Maverick scratches his neck uncomfortably.
“Wow,” the word doesn’t even begin to wrap around the enormity of the information I’ve just learned. The words hang over our heads like dark thunderclouds. “Did I know about any of this? Your Dad leaving?”
“I told you eventually that my Dad left us when I was younger and that we never saw him again. Though I kind of left out the part about it being my fault, obviously. But I told you about the house and everything right after I found out about it all. You even came over to hang out a few times.”
“That makes sense,” I reply, nodding.
A corner of his mouth tilts upwards, the expression catching me off guard. “Though, I was glad that we’d already been dating for several months before I got it all. Because at least I was mostly sure you weren’t just dating me for my money.”
I can’t help but laugh at his comment, but it makes me wonder. How had I felt about him? We’d been together for a while, so I must have been happy. But he also would have been my first relationship, ever. Could I have been too afraid to end things? Afraid that I’d never find love again if I left him?
I don’t want to think it had been like that. All of the echoes I’d heard of Maverick and I had been sweet. Sure, there had been a lot of teasing and flirting, but underneath it all, it sounded like we cared about each other. Maverick had brought me gifts when I was sick—even now the thought of that encounter makes my heart flutter in my chest. But had things changed as the months went by? I guess my only option now is to listen to all the echoes I can and wait and see.
We take several steps through the darkness before I clear my throat, changing the subject yet again. “So what’s the plan? How are we going to stop Alice?”
Maverick looks at me pointedly. “We?”
I blink at him. “Yes. We.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think you want to get involved with this.”
I stop walking, turning on him squarely. “I’m not going to sit around while you try to take down Alice alone. The woman who’s chasing me, too, in case you don’t remember.” The words come out harsher than I’d intended, but they get my point across.
“I don’t want you to get hurt—”
“I’ve already been hurt,” I cut him off. “And now that I know about all of this, it’s kind of personal.”
Maverick looks determined to convince me I should stay out of it. “This is big, Laura. This operation she has—it’s not just going to be an easy waltz-in-and-stop-her kind of deal. It’s going to be messy. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
What he doesn’t know is that I’m determined to help anyway. “I don’t care. I want to help.”
We look at each other, eyes fixed in place like it’s some kind of staring contest, and neither of us wants to lose. Part of me knows that what I’m asking for is terrible. Dangerous. But the other part of me knows that I don’t really have a choice, not after learning about Maverick and our shared past, about what Alice has done to him and to others. What she might try to do to me. I’m a part of this, now. I have to be.
Finally, Maverick drops his gaze and breathes one word: “Okay.”
Chapter 26
I pull into the parking lot, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. I crane my neck, but it doesn’t take long for my eyes to spot Maverick, sitting on a rusty bench in front of the building.
After our conversation last night, we knew there was more we needed to discuss, but my curfew was approaching swiftly, so we decided to meet up again another time. That meeting was now, right after school on Friday, at none other than Louise’s.
I park the car, then hop out and walk over to him. He stands when he sees me, and I take in the sight of him. He seems to favor dark, simple clothes, because his long-sleeved shirt looks almost exactly the same as the last one I’d seen him wearing, only a few shades lighter.
He opens the door for me, and when I step inside a wall of sound hits me. The jukebox is playing a classic rock tune that almost gets drowned out by the voices of people deep in conversation and by the clinking of dishes throughout the room. None of the noise is from the present, as usual. I follow Maverick to a booth by a window, where we are immediately greeted by Penny.
“Can’t get enough of us, can you?” she says to me.
I throw her my best smile. “Guess not!”
She looks between me and Maverick with a glint in her eye, and I have to squash the blush forming in my cheeks when I realize that to her, this probably looks very much like a date. Technically, we’re meeting up to discuss plans to stop a crazy woman who wants to use Maverick’s memory-erasing ability to kidnap innocent people, but Maverick and I had been together, so I guess it could quite possibly be a date. But I’m still trying to make up my mind about him, so for now, it shouldn’t be.
“Well, what can I get you two to drink?” Penny asks.
I
order my usual Cherry Coke and Maverick gets water, and when Penny is gone, he opens his menu. “This is my advice: don’t get the fries. The deep fryer is a little old, and Tony could never quite figure out that he couldn’t just use the preset timer when making them.”
I nod in understanding. “That explains a lot.”
“The onion rings, on the other hand, aren’t too bad when he makes them. But I know you don’t like them.”
It still feels weird, but of course, he would know that, especially after dating for so long. He knows all of these little details about me, yet in some ways, he still feels like a complete stranger since I don’t know anything about him. In another way, however, he feels like the only person who might actually understand me. He knows about my ability, and he even has his own that complicates his life, too. He knows what I’ve been through when I never thought anyone on the planet would ever be able to understand. How could something like that even happen? I let out a half-laugh, half-sigh at the thought.
Maverick raises an eyebrow at me.
“It’s just so weird hearing you say that,” I tell him.
He nods thoughtfully. “It’s weird for me, too. That you kind of remember me, but only bits and pieces, right?” he says gently, like he’s unwrapping a bandage around a wound that might reopen at the slightest amount of pressure.
“I wouldn’t exactly call them memories,” I say. “They’re more like… I don’t know. Like watching a TV show about myself where my life is totally different and it doesn’t seem real, but I know that it is. Except the screen on the TV only has a picture of the place, no characters. Just a setting and then sound.” It’s weird to be explaining the echoes to him so casually. With everyone else I’d ever had to explain them to, I felt like I was trying to convince them I wasn’t crazy. With Maverick, it’s just a simple explanation that he doesn’t even question.
“That is weird,” he agrees, studying me with a look of fascination that makes my stomach do a little dance. “Can you hear them right now? The—what did you call them?”
“Echoes,” I reply. Then, as if on cue, an echo of a baby screaming appears right behind me. “I hear them all the time. Like right now, it was a lot busier in here last year. So there’s music playing, people talking, and someone’s child just started throwing a fit right there,” I point over my shoulder.
Maverick frowns. “That sounds awful. I guess that explains why you never wanted to go places that were very busy while we were dating. And when I did convince you to go, we never stayed long.”
I wonder at the thought. That’s pretty much how I am with Grace and Leo. “But you still liked me, even though I didn’t like doing anything?”
Maverick smiles, a real, genuine smile that shows off a dimple on his left cheek. “I just thought you were above the whole scene. You didn’t need to do what everyone else was doing to have fun. You do your own thing. It’s one of the many things I like about you.”
My cheeks burn red at his switch to the present tense. The corners of his mouth twitch up into another smile, but Penny saves me by setting our drinks down on the table.
“Have you two decided what you’ll have?”
“Get the BLT,” Maverick tells me. “You’ll like it.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Guess I’ll have that,” I tell Penny. After Maverick orders one for himself and Penny walks away, I ask him, “So you think I’ll like it because I’ve already had it before and liked it?”
“No,” he replies. He thinks for a second. “I don’t think you ever had the BLT. I just genuinely think you’ll like it.”
“How will I ever know the difference?”
He shrugs. “I guess you’ll just have to ask,” he replies, smirking. Right here, this is the same playful Maverick I remember hearing in the echoes. And with the way he’s looking at me right now, no wonder I liked him.
We sit there for a few beats, contemplating. Then I clear my throat. “Speaking of which, I have a few things I want to ask about.”
“I guess I have a few things to answer. You go first,” he replies, the smirk still plastered on his mouth. I try to ignore it.
“Why haven’t you just erased Alice’s memories? Couldn’t you just… make her forget about being evil, or something?”
Maverick’s face spreads into a grin, the dimple making an appearance again. “It doesn’t exactly work like that,” he laughs.
“What do you mean?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, I can’t just take away a part of someone’s personality.” His eyes go serious, his expression following suit. “Just the memories. The things they’ve experienced.”
“So take away the experiences that have led her to the choices she’s made. Or make her forget about what she’s doing. Can’t you just do that?”
Maverick fiddles with the straw wrapper in his fingers. “I’ve tried.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t work,” he tells me, his yellow eyes flickering back and forth between mine.
“How come?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I’ve learned how to control my ability well enough. I’ve done it more times than I’d like to admit. But when I do it to Alice, nothing changes. She still remembers everything perfectly.”
My eyes widen. “How is that possible?”
He lets out a breath. “I think she’s developed some kind of way to block it. To become immune to it. I’m not sure.” I think back to being held captive in Alice’s laboratory and having a needle shoved into my arm.
“She gave me this stuff when I was trapped there. It was a shot, and after she gave it to me, I started hearing weird echoes of things just before they happened. It was only temporary, but I wonder if it was some kind of experimental drug.”
“She tested things on you?” Maverick’s eyebrows inch upward in concern.
“I guess so. Then she took my blood. I don’t know why. As far as I know, she doesn’t know about my ability.”
“Maybe she was trying to use you as a control because she didn’t know you’re already an anomaly. But for what?”
I shrug.
To my left, the kitchen doors swing open and Penny comes sauntering through with a plate in each hand. She sets them down in front of each of us, tells us to enjoy, then goes back to the kitchen. I reach for the napkins at the edge of the table, and at the same time, Maverick reaches for the silverware next to it. Somewhere along the way, our hands bump into each other.
Instinctively, I jerk my hand away quickly, and in its retreat, it tips Maverick’s glass over. Water spills out onto the table, dripping off onto his seat.
“I’m so sorry!” I squeal as he stands, then pulls out a wad of napkins and starts wiping up the mess. I grab another wad of napkins and lay them out across the table, but I’m careful not to get too close to Maverick’s hands.
“Don’t worry about it,” he tells me as he returns to his seat, pushing the sopping wet napkins into a pile at the edge of the table. But he won’t meet my eyes, and his lips have formed into a thin line.
“I didn’t mean to jump like that. It’s just…” I trail off. I don’t want to tell him that I’m afraid. That I’m terrified of his ability, of his power. That I’m still afraid of what will happen if I decide that I do trust him.
I don’t have to tell him. The look he gives me tells me he already knows. “I understand,” he says, an expression that I can’t quite read crossing his face.
“I’m sorry,” I say again genuinely.
“It’s fine,” he replies, flashing a hollow smile. Through his eyes I can see him closing in on himself, shutting the doors that were wide open moments ago. I can read the emotion in them clearly now.
Guilt.
Chapter 27
After I finish eating my food, I push my plate away from me, resting my elbows on the table. “It’s loud in here. We should go somewhere quieter,” I say. It feels good to be able to say the words. Words no one else would understand, since
it’s definitely not loud today.
“Which places are quiet for you?” Maverick asks.
“Cars,” I say. “New buildings, since they have no past to echo back to me. Outdoors, too—usually.”
Maverick looks through the window at the overcast sky and steady rain falling over the parking lot. “We could sit in the car,” he says.
I nod. We stand, and Maverick pays for our food, leaving—I notice—a very generous tip. We climb into his Corolla and he cranks the car, turning the heat on.
“So what’s the plan? How are we going to stop her?” I ask him.
“First, there are a few things you need to know.” He’s all business now, the playful, smirking Maverick left behind in the restaurant the moment I’d flinched at his touch. “Alice has a lot of people working for her. She’s not someone to be underestimated.”
I think of the giant laboratory tucked in the mountains, the guards attempting to halt our escape, the men in the black Suburban who’d kidnapped us. I nod.
“She’s powerful. And dangerous. And because of that, we have to be careful about how we do this. You’ll need to learn some basic self-defense. And carry a weapon.”
A ball of nervousness punches me in the stomach. “A weapon?”
“Yes.” His eyes pierce into mine across the center console. “A gun.”
I take a gulp of air. I’ve never touched a gun before, not even for fun. The thought of having one terrifies me, but what scares me even more is the chance that I might have to use it. “I don’t know… ” I breathe.
“You want to get involved. I don’t want anything to happen to you. So you need to be able to defend yourself in case we run into her. Consider it a compromise,” he says firmly.
“O—okay,” I stutter.
“We need to gather more information before we do anything. I want to know what she’s capable of, what other things we need to look out for.”
“How do we do that?”
“She has a practice here in town. Where she does her… day job, so to speak.”
