by Eros, Marata
Dad exchanged a look with Mom, one of those annoying ones that said a lot but not to others.
“That's not good,” he said.
“If he can control ghosts, then that’s another useful tool. Being a cadaver manipulator is certainly rare, but controlling hauntings?” He threw up his hands.
“I guess a little terror would go a long way,” I said.
“Let me get this straight,” Mom said. “Caleb is what? A domestic terrorist now?” She looked incredulously at Dad.
He nodded. “In a word... yes.”
I checked the clock—ten after eight. Well, nothing was going to get in the way of my appetite. I stuffed down the remains of my breakfast.
“Have you seen ghosts, Caleb?” Dad asked.
“Nope,” I said, using the last bit of bread to wipe up egg yolk.
Mom let out a sigh of relief. “I guess we don't have to worry about that.”
I hated to burst her bubble but....
“That was the last skill he gained before the government took him.”
“What year did your reading say that he was transferred to the 'government school'?” Dad made airquotes.
The FDA approved the drug that made us all able to “reach our genetic potential” in 2015. That year, all teens, nationwide, had been inoculated for a hell of a lot more than Hepatitis B. It'd all been in those papers. The more I read, the scarier the connections became. It was starting to stink like conspiracy.
I said, “I think it was 2016.”
Dad nodded. “Yes, that rings a bell.”
Mom stood and picked up my plate. “You better skedaddle there.”
“I have a plan,” Dad said. “We'll talk after school.”
I stopped with my butt halfway off the chair. “You're gonna be here, Dad?”
“Yes, I'm taking the day off. We'll experiment with your skills.” Since Dad never took a weekday off unless he had the barf-o-ma-tic, he must be really worried.
“Don't forget we need to talk about the dog,” I said.
CHAPTER 8
I made it to class just as the final bell rang. I plopped down next to John. Jonesy sat across from us with his head in his hand.
“What's your problem?” I asked Jonesy.
“Can't wait for Sunday. I'm itching for payback.”
John rolled his eyes.
“What is it today, Wednesday?” I asked.
John nodded.
“Well, get over that. Let's talk while we work on this.” I looked down at my heart-shaped box.
Mr. Morginstern sauntered over, hands thrust into his pockets.
“Good morning gentlemen,” he said in his I-love-mornings voice.
We mumbled hellos.
Morginstern studied my box and pointed out some rough spots, explaining that if those weren't perfectly smooth, they'd hang up the lid.
“You see this here.” He pointed at an almost invisible bump on the interior arc. “That is the kind of thing that can make a project frustrating.”
Geez, really? The whole project had been pretty hard. I wished now that I had chosen a square, like Jonesy, or a rectangle, like John. Mother's Day was coming up. Mom always said she didn't care about presents, but I was starting to get a handle on girls, so I knew she would feel bad if I didn't do something nice.
It was a ruthless minefield.
Morginstern studied Jonesy's box and gave him a similar lecture, but he pronounced John's as ready for a lid. Jonesy and I looked at each other in perfect understanding—John just got stuff.
Morginstern wandered off to bug the other kids, and we put our heads together football huddle style.
“I'm in deep crap,” I said. “I read the Parker kid's stuff last night. He had some stuff I haven't done yet, but if I play out like him, I’ll get them too. It's even more important that I not spike their radar on the AP tests Monday.”
“Did your dad get the cerebral inhibitor?” John asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, he's got it, and he took the day off because he wants to go over The Plan.”
Jonesy stuck out his jaw, leaning back. “What 'Plan'?”
“I don't know. The minute we talk, I’ll pulse you and let you know.”
“Kyle thought it was okay that we knew?” Jonesy stabbed a thumb at his chest.
I laughed. “Yeah, you were there. There's no hiding any of it: the blackouts, the fugues...”
“The cemetery,” John added.
That reminded me. “Have Carson and Brett said anything?”
John and I looked at Jonesy. Jonesy talked to everyone.
“Not yet,” Jonesy said, rubbing his hands together with undisguised glee.
As John leaned forward, his frizzy hair covered an eye. “Don't take this too far. We don't want to hurt them.”
“ Too much,” I said, winking at Jonesy.
John smacked my shoulder. “Don't give him any ammunition, Caleb!”
Morginstern looked our way. “Get back to work boys.”
Jonesy and I picked up our eighty grit sandpaper and went to work on the bumps.
John got up with a self-satisfied smile.
“I guess I'll go over and use the jigsaw for my lid now.”
“Don't be an ass,” Jonesy said.
“Yeah, what he said,” I echoed.
John walked off, his fro of hair flopping as he moved between the tables.
CHAPTER 9
Between bells, I tried to catch a glimpse of Jade.
Crap, I didn't see her by the locker. Bending down, I tore open the zipper on my backpack without any of my usual finesse and threw my junk in my locker. I wasn't hauling all that to math.
When I straightened, she was right beside me, close enough to touch.
I gulped.
“Hi,” I croaked.
She flashed me a smile, the kind that reached the eyes.
“Do you want to hang out at lunch?” My voice was steady. Yay for me.
She turned her head to the side, and that long curtain of hair swung forward, hiding her expression. Then she looked back up at me through the veil of eyelashes that bordered eyes that shone like emeralds.
God, she was beautiful.
“I'd like that,” she said. Those gorgeous eyes studied me. She wasn't a girl to fill silences with a lot of chatter, another great thing about her. I was making a list.
The other kids would notice us being together. That's all that kids talked about, how much school sucked and who was going out with whom. Maybe I could tell her about my problem. The Js were cool, but I couldn’t show my friends my fear. Girls were better that way.
As we turned away from each other, it slid through my mind that only having her in two classes sucked.
Carson and Brett walked past, and Brett made a pistol hand, taking a shot at me. Dick. Carson threw his head back and laughed, delighted by his friends' cleverness.
Jonesy's hairspray idea was sounding sweeter by the second.
Math class dragged. John saw me study the clock and raised an eyebrow. Later , I looked back. He shrugged, his shoulder blades poking out like weapons and went back to studying, his hair a wall in front of his eyes.
Afterward, I raced to my locker to get my backpack. I slapped on my beanie and took out my pulse. Pressing my thumb on the pad, I selected Music. I chose the oldies shuffle: Seether, Hinder, and Underwhelmed.
Thinking into my touch pad: volume 15 . The screen illuminated in phosphorescent green the correct volume and I thought: accurate.
Music filled my ears, and I hummed a little as I slid through the throng, my mind already with Jade. Jonesy caught up to me, narrowly missing a posse of girls who giggled as he walked by. He took the time to wink and salute them with a fingertip, which caused another rush of laughter.
I didn't know how he did it, but girls went nuts over Jonesy. He called it his “undeniable attraction.” Whatever. He was cool, but I didn't see him as manly.
John appeared and fell into step on my left. Jonesy led the way th
rough the crowd.
I thought: volume five... then: accurate.
“ Jade and I are hanging at lunch today, guys.”
Jonesy stopped dead in my path.
“You're kidding. I mean, are you guys are like, going out?”
“ No , but I don't want the first time that we can actually talk to be around you dorks.”
“Ya know,” John said thoughtfully, “a dork is a whale's penis?”
I smirked. I know.
Jonesy rolled his eyes, throwing up his hands. “I know you're hot for her, but bros before hos man.”
He looked at John for agreement. John nodded then turned to me, still smiling.
Jonesy... so classy.
“Come on, guys! If you had a girl you liked, you'd want to be with her.” I looked from one to the other. “I’ll talk to her for awhile, then I’ll bring her over to our table.”
Jonesy sulked. Kids swirled around us in an ocean-like tide.
John said, “See where it goes today, but don't let a girl interfere with important stuff.” He looked at me in his steady way.
“Okay,” I said. “I got it.”
Jonesy glanced back. Traitor, that look said.
My pulse was on the lowest volume. Soothing, retro music wafted through the ear discs that were permanently embedded behind my ears. Technology rocked.
I stepped into the cafeteria. A small hand rose, a lone flag of welcome among the masses.
I no longer heard the music as I walked toward her. Instead, I saw the soft triangle of her face, her full pink lips, and her silver hoops catching the light as she laughed with Sophie. Huh... Sophie. I had ditched the Js only to have to share time with her. I hurried over to the food line.
When I reached the table, Sophie looked up at me, her blue-green eyes full of laughter. She turned back to Jade and said, “Catch ya later.” She jumped up and hurried to another table.
I sat down awkwardly next to Jade. Her hands were folded on the table. I mimicked her pose, and she reached out and covered one of my hands with hers. Instinctively, I closed my hand around hers, grinning like an idiot. Every struggle had been worth it to be in that moment with her.
“So,” she said, “what did you want to talk about?”
I looked down at our clasped hands, and my mouth got dry. Okay, Hart, you got this. She obviously likes you, so start with that.
“Well, I know we don't know each other very well, but do you want to go out?” I stumbled over that last part, simultaneously hoping my hand didn't get sweaty.
She smiled shyly. “I thought you'd never ask.”
No one in the history of the universe could have possibly been happier.
“Let's go somewhere and talk,” I said.
“Okay.” She stood up and stuffed her pulse in her pocket.
We made our way into the open hallway. I didn't want to let go of her hand, ever.
She leaned against the wall, and I took her other hand as I looked down at her. There were some girls who were actually shorter than I was.
“I'm so glad you finally asked me.”
It's not like she hit me over the head with clues or anything.
She grinned at my expression. “You're the guy. You have to ask.”
“That's not true. You could have given me a hint,” I said, trying to sound miffed, even though I was supremely happy.
Smiling, she raised my hand and laid it against her cheek. My heart paused mid-beat. Her skin felt like silk.
I cupped her face, noticing how small it was and leaned down to whisper, “Meet me after band today.”
“Okay.”
My stomach rumbled, and I laughed. “I guess we better eat,”
I looked at her lunch tray sitting on the table a few meters away. Girls sure ate weird.
She saw my expression. “What?”
I shrugged. “No wonder you're so small. You don't eat anything real.”
She pointed at her salad as we walked back over . “This is real.”
I grunted, and she glanced at my tray. Pizza was definitely the food of the gods as far as I was concerned.
The Js were at our regular lunch table and just finishing their pizza.
Jade grabbed her tray and followed me over. We plunked down across from my dudes.
Jonesy looked at Jade's tray. “Are you kidding with that?” He pointed his fork at her salad.
Jade gestured at his food and said, “You guys need to clean up your eating habits.”
Fourth slice in hand, John looked down at his three crusts and shrugged. He took a bite that polished off half the slice. Jonesy laughed and used his crust to wipe up the last vestiges of his ranch dressing.
Jade stared with fascination at Jonesy's ritual. His pears and green beans lay lonely and untouched in a forgotten corner of his tray. Jonesy mowed through his dessert cup of sherbet while expertly eying whatever food John had been dumb enough not to finish.
I didn't have my normal appetite. After all, it wasn't every day that I got a girlfriend.
Jonesy licked his spoon then blurted, “So you two going out now?”
John almost choked on his last hunk of pizza, some of it escaping his mouth.
Jade stopped the fork midway to her mouth, fruit balanced on the tines.
I answered, “Yeah, Jonesy, we are.” I grabbed Jade’s hand under the table. She squeezed back.
The class bell rang its five minute warning.
“Sorry about your lunch,” I mumbled, seeing only half was eaten.
“It's okay.” She curled her small hand around my forearm, where a tiny pulse beat, captured in the delicate skin of her wrist.
She fascinated me.
I recovered. The Js stood and we followed. Carson and Brett sauntered over, Brett eying Jade up.
I didn't like that at all. We moved to the side of the table.
“Hi, Jade,” Brett said, nodding to the Js and me. Carson didn't bother.
Hi,” she said.
“Hey, Hart, gonna see ya at the cemetery on Sunday?” Carson said, looking hard at Jonesy.
Jonesy stepped beside me, and Jade moved a little behind me.
Jonesy said, “We'll all be there, I told ya.”
Brett looked at Jade. “Even your little girlfriend is coming?” He reached out and touched her hair.
“Don't touch me!” she yelped, jumping back.
“Leave her alone, dickhead,” I said, my hands balled into tight fists. I was ready for a hammer session and he was the nail.
Brett moved up until our noses almost touched, our chests a millimeter from contact.
“Caleb, we have eyes,” John said in a low voice.
I didn't take mine off Brett.
Carson put a hand on Brett’s shoulder. “Leave it. He can't do anything, and the chick's not worth it.” He sneered at me.
Brett retreated a step, and the tension dissipated. Carson pulled Brett toward the door. Brett walked backward, glaring at me. A moment before he went through the double doors, his eyes shifted to the left and became thoughtful.
I followed his gaze to see what he was looking at, and Jade filled my vision. Her anxious face was pinched and nervous. Rage filled me. I put my arm around her and scooped her up against me while I stroked her hair with my other hand. She shivered under my touch.
Jonesy said, “Sunday can't come soon enough.”
CHAPTER 10
John was listening raptly to Xavier Collins, aka, Biology teacher extraordinaire. He ran around the room, boiling with energy, making his point. Unfortunately, I had worn out my welcome when we had dissected the frogs and I kept passing out and getting hauled off to the nurse's office.
Collins was jogging back and forth in front of the board, smacking his fist into his open palm, doing a rant about the bees. That again, I thought a little glumly. Between Dad, big time scientist in his pants and Mom, environmental activist. I knew what was wrong. I put my head in both my palms.
“This alarming trend of the decimation of
honeybees is appalling. The origins of which precedes 2010. It was in that year that nearly one million honeybee colonies were wiped out,” Collins said.
John nodded with marked enthusiasm at what Collins was saying. Having a swarm of anything die would be a fresh hell for me.
“Caleb Hart,” Collins said, “what are your thoughts on this subject?”
Oh great. “Ah... what do you want me to say?”
“What are your thoughts on the continual decline of this critical species which impacts our habitat at every turn?”
I put my best lame foot forward. “Well, my mom had me help her plant flowers in the garden that attracts bees.”
Carson attempted to cover a laugh by coughing. I blushed. He was such a jerk. It was stupid to admit to helping my mom garden, but my choices for chores were cleaning the bathroom or gardening. Gee, let me think about it.
Collins turned sharply to Carson. “Do you have something to add, Mr. Hamilton?”
Carson squirmed.
“No.”
“Good, very good,” Collins said and turned his attention back to me. “Well, go on then, Caleb.”
I shrugged. “That's it. I mean, I hear my parents talk about the environment a lot.” My voice conveyed how obvious that would be in my household.
“What plants did she select?” Collins asked.
Wow, easy question. “We plant flowers in blue and violet, mainly. But my mom has rhododendrons in a bunch of different colors. She says it's important to plant different types and try to use native plants.”
I actually knew something about this because of my role as The Gardening Slave.
“Very good, Caleb. Caleb's family is doing exactly what we all need to be doing. This 'pocket gardening' technique emphasizes that if all of us were doing our small part to propagate the environment, that cumulative effort would have tremendous impact. These insects need all of us working together to resurrect their dying numbers.”
Suddenly, Collins spun around and pointed a finger at me. “What's your favorite plant for bee attraction, Caleb?”
“Sunflower,” I blurted.
Collins smiled and jogged back to the whiteboard. John gave me a thumbs-up, and Carson flipped me off. With a smile, I turned back to the teacher. Some days were okay. Carson's annoyance kicked ass.
