“You’re wrong,” Jay said. “Something’s happening to me, something I don’t understand. And although it’s impossible, I…. I feel!”
Its words, the anguish in them that matched his own, pierced his heart. They took up residence in his muddled brain. “You really can feel?”
It nodded. “I’m not programmed to feel. I shouldn’t be able to but….” A tiny frown creased its forehead and to Tyler, who was examining every tiny nuance of expression on its face, it appeared genuinely confused, lost.
“When I—” It squeezed its eyes shut, and then opened them again. “The night Father died, I cried for the first time. I didn’t even realize what they were at first, the tears. I didn’t truly understand what they meant, either. And ever since then I’ve begun to feel. Not physical pain—” its hand went to the cheek he’d slapped “—but here.” Its hand drifted to its head, tapped its temple. “And here.” It formed a fist and punched it heart.
Or where its heart would be, if it possessed a real one.
It must have plucked his thoughts right from his mind. It stepped closer, took Tyler’s hand and placed his palm on its chest. “I do have a heart, Tyler. And as you’ve seen, when I bleed my blood looks the same as human blood. Just because my heart is artificial and more efficient than a human’s, doesn’t negate the fact I have one. And right now, even though it shouldn’t be at all possible, my heart is aching.”
“Why?” he whispered, his own heart stuttering.
“Because I’ve hurt you.” Jay’s brilliant gaze burned with conflicting emotions.
They were emotions he recognized. Shame. Fear. Hope.
He wanted to lash out at this thing with his fists, pound it for making him like it, for making him believe it might care for him. He wanted it to wrap its arms around him and hug him close.
He wanted it—Jay—to be human. But those were his issues, his crap, not Jay’s.
It was alone in the world. Men were after it and God only knew what they’d do if they caught it. Dissect it? Like it had dissected the frog in Bio?
He shuddered, rubbing the chill from his arms, picturing this incredible creation, this almost human work of art, lying on an operating table, its beautiful eyes dulled and lifeless as it was taken apart piece by piece.
Tyler knew what it was like to be alone and friendless. He knew what it was like to be rejected, too. His own father had taught him that. And Vanessa, his first serious girlfriend. Likewise, the guys he’d believed had his back. So if it truly could feel, he couldn’t hurt it further by rejecting it. No matter what it was, no matter how it had unintentionally hurt him, it didn’t deserve that from him.
To Tyler, Jay-the-cyborg ceased being a “thing” at that moment. She was just Jay. She couldn’t help what she was. And she’d tried so hard to fit in, to be normal. To be human.
“Duh,” he said. He even managed a crooked smile.
And she smiled back at him. Tentatively at first, then fully, brilliantly. She held his gaze and the genuine joy in her smile thawed the frozen little lump his heart had become.
“Friends, then?” she asked.
He nodded. “Friends.”
He knew he should apologize for the slap. Hell, he should prostrate himself at her feet and beg forgiveness. But he couldn’t bring himself to say he was sorry.
Besides, she hadn’t felt the blow anyway. He consoled himself with that thought as his sister’s disappointed, judgmental gaze raked him. And then dismissed him as a lost cause.
“I could go dessert right about now,” Caro said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Of course,” Jay said, ever the polite hostess. “And afterward, I’ll show you the cell phones and you can take your pick.”
“Sweet! Can I pick one for Em, too?”
“Of course you can.”
“You, girlfriend, are the best!”
Jay seemed content to play hostess. Tyler’s sister seemed more than willing to accept her in that role. Both girls carried on like the world hadn’t changed at all.
But for Tyler it had. It’d changed forever.
This couldn’t be happening. He pinched his thigh. Hard. But everything remained the same. The truths didn’t dissipate into the ether. The anguish lurking in his soul didn’t subside.
He ducked his head, staring at his sneakers, wondering how the effing hell he’d gotten into this mess. He’d finally found a girl who didn’t have an agenda, who really liked him, who could see past his outer shell to the real person beneath. And she wasn’t even human.
He’d gone and fallen for a cyborg. Hard.
Shit. Caro was right. He was such a freak.
Chapter Fourteen
Caro cornered Tyler in his bathroom as he was trying to get his hair to behave. When she’d quit laughing at his efforts and restyled his hair to her satisfaction, she said, “When’re you going to quit feeling sorry for yourself and give her a chance?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that. You barely speak to Jay. And when you do, you’re so terribly polite it’s like you’ve got Miss Manners shoved up your butt. You even made her partner Matt in Bio. Which I gotta say, is just plain shitty, because even though Jay’s a freaking genius with computers and stuff, she hasn’t a clue how to deal with guys like him. Quit being such a moody a-hole. Jay needs us. She needs you. And she needs to know you’re on her side.”
Tyler stared at his reflection, thrusting out his chin to check for eruptions. There were none, of course. Hadn’t been since Jay had somehow healed that zit on his chin. Wow. Freaking amazing what a cyborg could do for a guy.
“She’s got you on her side, Caro. She doesn’t need me.”
Caro vented her frustration with a gusty sigh that dragged his reluctant gaze to hers. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling in her signature gesture of not-so-mock despair. “She’s hurting, Tyler. Real bad.”
“That’s crap and you know it. She’s a cyborg. She can’t hurt.”
“And you know it’s not crap. Jeez! She’s all confused because feelings, and this girlfriend-boyfriend stuff, are all Greek to her. But do you cut her a break? No. Of course not! You tell her you’re still her friend but do you act like her friend? No. Of course not. Noooo, instead you make like an angry ex-boyfriend, like she’s played you and broken your freaking heart. It’s pathetic! What am I going to do with the two of you?” She scrubbed her hands through her immaculately styled hair, grabbed a couple of handfuls and yanked. Hard enough for her to blink and twist her face into a grimace.
“Look, Tyler, I know you’re upset but Jay can’t help what she is. And regardless of what she is, she really likes you. So why can’t you just—”
“What?” He whirled to confront his sister. “Be boyfriend and girlfriend? Get married? Live happily ever after in a nice house with a white picket fence, and have little Terminator babies? Yeah, like that’s a possibility.” He turned back to his reflection, trying to ignore her slack-jawed dismay at his OTT reaction.
Crap. He might have over-played that one. Caro wasn’t stupid. If he wasn’t careful, she might actually suspect the truth: He wanted so badly for Jay to be human that it hurt.
He stared into the mirror with a truly pathetic attempt at mess-with-me-at-your-freakin’-peril eyes. “Get real, Caro.”
To his dismay she didn’t take the hint. She leaned her hands on his shoulders. “Listen up. Jay’s in trouble.”
His stomach flip-flopped and finally settled with a sickening lurch. “Well, duh. She’s a cyborg and bad men want her.”
“Quit being obtuse.”
“Obtuse. Now there’s a big word. You been reading Mom’s word of the day calendar again, huh?”
“Tyler!” She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and shook him so hard it snapped his head back on his neck.
“Ow!” He glared at her in the mirror’s reflection. “Quit shaking me.”
“I’ll quit shaking you when I’ve shaken
some sense into you, and you stop being such a smartass and hear me out!”
She was mega-serious. She meant it. And he couldn’t keep up the pretense that he didn’t care deeply about Jay any longer. His shoulders slumped beneath her grip. “What’s happened?”
“Do you remember that tracking program she ran? The one that was tracking IP addresses of the people who’d viewed the clip?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“One of them wasn’t local.”
His stomach lurched again. He swallowed, trying to work some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. “So?”
“So, it was suspicious. Jay did some further digging and she says the guys who’re after her have tracked her down. They’ll be coming for her. Soon.”
Tyler’s world came to a screaming halt. His heart thudded in his chest. “What’s she gonna do?”
Caro didn’t say anything.
“Is she gonna run?”
She released him and headed for the door.
“Caro! What’s Jay going to do?”
“Ask her yourself,” his sister said. “You owe her that much, at least.”
~~~
The morning dragged. Even art class failed to hold much pleasure. Tyler found himself sketching Jay’s face, trying to capture her essence—that part that was uniquely Jay. And wondering what it meant when he couldn’t quite manage it as well as he’d like.
“Excellent work, Tyler.” His art teacher’s voice made him jump.
“May I?” Mr. Sands took possession of his sketch pad before he could protest, and examined the drawing more closely. “Is she someone you know?”
“Uh, yeah. She is.”
“The eyes are truly stunning. The way she’s staring out from the page….” Mr. Sands held up his sketch, waving it to catch his students’ attention.
Tyler scrunched down lower in his chair and thought seriously about crawling under his desk.
“I want you all to take a look at Tyler’s sketch,” Mr. Sands told the class. “See the way he’s used different techniques such as crosshatching? And that slinky stroke we talked about last week, to get this dark shading here and here? And the way he’s highlighted the eyes so the face seems to leap from the page—excellent use of technique!”
He droned on, ignoring the titters from a couple of girls who’d recognized the subject of Tyler’s portrait.
Good going, dude. Way to feed the gossip.
He groaned. Was he a complete idiot? Only saving grace was Caro couldn’t draw to save her life, so she wasn’t in this class. If his sister ever copped a look at that sketch she’d be on his case big-time.
When his teacher returned his sketchbook, Tyler studied the drawing. He didn’t feel inclined to agree with the glowing assessment. Beneath his critical gaze, Jay’s face appeared soulless, almost inhuman. Which of course she was. And seeing the truth of Jay leaping out at him, so starkly captured in pencil lines and smudges on a page, scared him.
The truth didn’t stop his stupid heart and head from liking her that way, though, did it? It didn’t stop him from dwelling on how he’d practically stopped breathing when she’d kissed him, either. Or how she’d looked that time in the cafeteria—stunned and pleased and very vulnerable—when he’d glanced back and caught her touching her lips after he’d kissed her. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her. And in his mind at least, it was easy to tell her how he felt about her. And show her. By kissing her… properly, this time.
How pathetic was that?
How pathetic was he?
He growled to himself. And scowled a mind-your-own-freaking-business scowl at the guy sitting in front of him when he turned around to check whether Tyler had morphed into a wild animal.
He continued brooding.
When the class was over, he ripped the page from his sketchbook. And as he left the room, he tossed it in the trash.
By lunch break, his head ached from trying to work it all out. He couldn’t handle going to the music room and working on his songs. He dragged his feet to the cafeteria and ran the gamut of whispers and nudges before plunking down in a seat at the back.
His own choice, of course. He could have sat with Em and the other girls from his team. Caro would be there, too, avoiding Vanessa and Shawn. And pretending to ignore Matt, who had apparently decided she was still worth pursuing and sat at her table every lunchtime. But that would also mean sitting with Jay, confronting his feelings for Jay, trying not to give in to Jay’s mesmerizing, too-sad, totally miserable gaze.
That would mean telling how he felt for real. And he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
He rummaged in his bag for his packed lunch and unwrapped a bologna sandwich. He choked down a single bite, then gave up and packed it away again. He ignored the sticky, grungy tabletop, and laid his aching head atop his arms, tuning out the rest of the world.
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder.
He jumped at the sheer unexpectedness of the touch. His head jerked up and his wild-eyed gaze met Jay’s electric blue one.
“May I join you, Tyler? Please?”
“Uh. Sure!” His heart tripped and that warm feeling he got whenever she looked his way infected his brain, driving away all good sense. He shook it off, tore his gaze from her face, even managed a shrug. “Whatever.”
She slid into the chair next to him and maneuvered it sideways until she sat angled toward him. Even though Tyler kept his gaze strictly front and center, he knew she was watching him intently. He felt it—felt her, her closeness. Her need.
“What do you want?” he finally asked, unable to bear the silence any more. He thought his voice sounded strange, hoped it didn’t sound laden with all the hurt he was trying so desperately to hide. But if he hadn’t pulled it off, he hoped she didn’t notice.
Shit. Who was he trying to kid? This was Jay. Of course she would notice. Hopefully, she would be too polite to acknowledge it.
“I want to ask you a favor,” she said.
Oh no. No way. He opened his mouth and a bunch of crap he didn’t mean spewed out. “Sure. Anything. We’re friends, right? And friends do favors for each other.”
“Are we friends, Tyler?”
He slanted her a quick, assessing glance. Huh. Just as he’d thought. It was a sincere question. And it deserved a sincere answer.
“Sure.” He scraped a piece of dried food from the surface of the table and flicked it away with his fingernail. “Sure we are.”
“Mmmm. I might not be human, and I might not know all there is to know about friendship, but somehow I doubt we are friends.”
God, she sounded sad. He dared examine her face. And he didn’t turn away, not even when he spotted the hope lighting her eyes—hope that he was going to dash to itty bitty irretrievable pieces, because he couldn’t bring himself to be completely honest with her.
He could hardly tell Jay that he really liked her—maybe even more than liked. Not that he could possibly know what love felt like, ’cause he’d only recently turned seventeen. But if love was feeling like total crap when Jay wasn’t around, if it was feeling like his entire world brightened when he caught the merest glimpse of her in a hallway, if it was feeling as though he wasn’t truly complete without her, then—
OMFG. He couldn’t be.
“Are you all right, Tyler? Is something wrong?”
He tensed all his muscles to keep from shaking. “No! And of course we’re friends, Jay. What else could we be?”
What else, indeed.
“You’ve sure got a crap way of showing it,” she muttered.
“What did you say?” She’d sounded so human, so almost Emma-ish, that he couldn’t quite credit his ears. Maybe a bit of Em’s smart mouth was rubbing off on Jay.
Horrible thought. He suppressed a shudder.
“Nothing,” she said. “Look, Tyler, I’m planning on leaving soon because of—” She seemed to recollect she was in a public place and bit her lip. “You know why. But befo
re I take off, I wanted to throw a party—a farewell party. Caro’s idea, of course.”
He snorted. “Of course. Any excuse for a party. But won’t that be dangerous? I mean, if these people are looking for you, wouldn’t it be better to just disappear in the dead of night?”
Freaks of Greenfield High Page 19
