The Naturals Trilogy

by Madeline Freeman

  Ris’s grip became almost unbearable. “Yeah, okay,” Morgan gasped. “Just let me go.”

  “Say it, Morgan. Say you forgive me.”

  Morgan bit the inside of her cheek, a small punishment for being the world’s worst friend. “I forgive you.”

  Ris released her, smiling her wide smile. “I’m so glad. Now, I’m hungry. Wanna go in halfsies on a pizza?”

  She stared blankly at her for a moment. “I think there are coupons on the fridge.”

  Ris sprang off the bed and left the room. Morgan just sat there, taking in deep breaths.

  There was no way she could tell Ris what happened between her and Corbin.

  Ever.

  Chapter Eight

  Second hour Friday found Morgan in her first hour of JY for the day. Second hour had a completely different feel than sixth hour. Neither Stew nor McKenna were in this period, so Morgan usually sat alone at a table in back. Second hour was Miss Scotford’s prep period, so she was often buzzing around the JY room. Also perpetually buzzing around the room was Lia.

  As Mr. Kment took attendance, Lia stood in front of the room and announced to the rather unmotivated-looking group that today was the deadline for this issue of the newspaper. She also gave a few notes to those people who were working on the yearbook. Morgan tuned her out and headed to the laptop cart so she could type up the draft of her horoscopes. Technically, she had until sixth hour to complete the typing, but she figured if she could get them all typed this hour, she could get away with doing nothing later.

  She took the laptop back to her table and turned it on. While she waited for it to load, she glanced up toward Mr. K’s desk. Mr. K was seated in his office chair and Miss Scotford was perched on the edge of his desk. In Morgan’s opinion, they were sitting far too close together for a professional setting.

  A thought crossed Morgan’s mind: What if Mr. K and Miss Scotford were dating? They certainly seemed familiar enough with each other, and they probably spent lots of time together on their Watcher duties.

  The welcome screen tone from the computer pulled Morgan from her thoughts, and she opened up the word processing program. So intent was she on typing that she didn’t immediately notice when someone sat down in the seat beside her.

  “Morgan?” Lia asked quietly.

  Morgan jumped. “Lia, jeez. You’re like a ninja or something. Make some noise.”

  Lia smiled.

  Morgan waited for her to say something. “Is this about the deadline? Because I’m typing my horoscopes right now.”

  Lia shook her head. “No, not that.”

  “Okay, then… what?”

  “You know you can talk to me, right?” Lia asked, the words tumbling out in a rush.

  Morgan nodded unsurely. “Uh, sure, Lia. But—I am gonna meet the deadline.”

  Lia sighed. “I’m not talking about JY stuff. I mean… Morgan, you look like crap.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t mean—” Lia put her hands over her face. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean is—you look like you’ve got a lot of stuff on your mind.” She glanced around the room to be sure no one was too close. “And, I mean, I think I can understand it—at least a lot of it. So, if you need to talk…”

  “Look, Lia, I appreciate it and all, but—”

  “Look, Morgan. I know we’re not, like, best friends or anything, and I don’t want to be. I just want you to know I’m here.” Without waiting for Morgan to say anything else, Lia stood and walked to a nearby table.

  Morgan watched her for a minute before going back to her typing. She sincerely doubted Lia could understand what it was she was going through, but she supposed it was a kind offer.

  By the end of class, Morgan had finished typing up her horoscopes and submitted the digital copy to Lia. In art class, she lost herself in working with the metal scraps she was given. In fourth hour English, she did her best to ignore both Corbin and Lucas, who sat at nearby desks.

  Lunch brought another disappointing round of peers. As had become her custom, she spent each reading searching for the one person who would realize she was poking around his or her mind, but still no one did. Though discouraged, she figured she had really only seen a fraction of the school’s population. There were still plenty of options.

  In Senior Math, Morgan convinced Lucas to take notes for her and spend the hour staring off into space, trying to keep herself from thinking about anything. This became so difficult that by the time JY rolled around again, Morgan asked Lia if there was any extra work she could do—proofreading or layouts—anything to keep her mind occupied. Lia looked surprised by the request but obliged with a stack of some of the worst-written articles Morgan had ever seen.

  She suddenly understood why Lia made so many first years cry with her edits.

  When the last bell of the day rang, Morgan left the JY room as quickly as she could, hoping to beat Ris and Corbin to her locker. She had no such luck. Painting on a smile she hoped didn’t look too fake, Morgan approached Ris and Corbin.

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hi,” Ris greeted, smiling. “Hey, did you wanna hang out today?”

  Pushing past Ris to get to the locker, Morgan shook her head. “Nah. I don’t think I’m particularly good company today. I’m… feeling a little off.”

  Ris placed a hand on Morgan’s cheek. “Well, you don’t feel warm or anything.”

  Morgan closed the locker. “Yeah… I think it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll probably be fine tomorrow.”

  Ris nodded. “Okay, then. Maybe we’ll hang out tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  Ris turned to Corbin. “Okay, I guess it’s you and me today.”

  Corbin smiled. “Sounds good.” After casting a quick glance in Morgan’s direction, he steered Ris down the hall toward the stairwell.

  Rolling her eyes, Morgan followed. She wondered vaguely whether Ris had intended on hanging out with either Morgan or Corbin instead of both. It seemed logical given their conversation last night.

  Morgan felt a pang of guilt and Corbin glanced over his shoulder at her.

  She was glad when they got to the parking lot. She took in a deep breath, noting that the air held a hint of autumn. Waving goodbye to Ris and Corbin, she headed for her car.

  When she got home, she flopped down on the couch. Dylan wasn’t home from work yet, so control of the television was hers. She turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels, eventually landing on a broadcast of the movie Hitch. She leaned against the arm of the couch and hugged a throw pillow to her chest.

  About an hour into the movie, Morgan heard a muffled version of Pink’s “Perfect” and dug through her purse to find her phone. The caller ID displayed Wen’s name.

  “Hello?” Morgan asked unsurely. Though Wen’s number had been programmed in her phone for weeks, she’d never received a call from him. Trainings were always arranged through Mr. K or Miss Scotford, and trainings were the only reason Morgan ever saw Wen.

  “Morgan, hey. You busy?”

  She glanced at Will Smith on the television. “Not really. Why, what’s up?”

  “I want you to come over.”

  “Where?”

  “To my place. I’ll give you the address.”

  Before Morgan had time to respond, Wen was reciting the information for her. She grabbed a pen off the end table and scribbled the address on the back of one of the paint samples.

  “Can you come over now?” Wen asked.

  “I… Sure. I’ll leave in just a second. Should I pick Lucas up on the way?”

  “No. See you soon.”

  “But what’s this—” The question fell, unfinished, when Morgan realized Wen had already ended the call. After quickly consulting the internet for directions, Morgan was on her way.

  The address led her to an apartment complex. She drove past Wen’s place twice before realizing it was there, and when she did find it, she had to pass it again in orde
r to find a parking space. When she finally got to the door to his unit, Wen was waiting for her. He led her up a set of stairs in desperate need of new carpet and had to jam his shoulder into the door to his place in order for it to open.

  She followed him into a sparsely decorated living room filled with hand-me-down furniture. As she sat, she noticed the couch smelled faintly of cigarettes and dog.

  “Nice place,” she said, just to say something.

  “Had to move recently.”

  Morgan felt a twinge of guilt. Of course he’d needed to move. After he showed his allegiance to the Watchers in order to save Morgan from Orrick, there was no way he could stay where he had been living. Orrick wouldn’t continue to pay for the living space of a spy.

  Though she’d never been to Wen’s former home, she could only assume it had been as opulent as the house Kellen lived in, with its lush carpets and lavish decorations. To trade a large town house with brand new furniture and a maid for this must be quite a culture shock.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking down.

  “No worries.” Wen paused. “I always knew the truth’d come out sooner or later. If you hear anything about a… fresher couch, though…” The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

  “So… why did you want me to come over?”

  “Lia called.”

  Morgan groaned.

  “Come on, Morgan. She’s just worried about you, that’s all. She thought maybe you’d talk to me.”

  “Why can’t she mind her own business?”

  “Type-A personality. She likes to control things.” Wen shrugged. “Look, no one would blame you for freaking out about all this stuff a little. A lot’s changed for you in the last month.”

  Morgan gave a non-committal shrug.

  Wen raised an eyebrow. “You find out your mom is out there somewhere, still alive, and that she may or may not be being kept hidden by an evil billionaire. You find out you have magical mind powers and that you’re the One who’s destined to make everything that is wrong right again. Come on, Morgan—it sounds like the plot to a made-for-TV sci-fi movie.”

  “Thanks,” Morgan muttered.

  “Hey, no offense.” He patted her on the knee in much the same way a person might pat a dog on its head. “It’s a lot to take in. A lot to process.”

  “There’s nothing to process. There’s only stuff to do.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  Morgan threw up her hands. “This whole the One thing. I mean—I’m supposed to do something because of that, right? I’m supposed to—I don’t even know—change the world and make everyone hold hands and skip under rainbows or something. And then my mom… I’ve gotta find her. I’ve gotta save her.”

  “Really? You think all that’s on you?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Wen leaned back on the couch, wrinkling his nose briefly against its odor. “Well, I don’t think it’s your responsibility to make everyone skip under rainbows, if that’s any consolation.”

  “You know what I mean. I don’t know—maybe you don’t. Everyone keeps telling me I’m the One, but no one seems to wanna tell me what that really means for me. I mean, what do I actually have to do? Does anyone know that?”

  “I think the short answer is no. No one knows exactly what you’re supposed to do. And the Veneret and the Watchers have very different ideas about what the end result is supposed to be anyway.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, the Veneret and the Watchers only agree on one thing: The One is supposed to make our abilities known to the common. The Veneret think that means that they’ll finally be revered the way they think they should be—that the common will become little more than slaves to do their bidding. And keep them full of energy, of course. But the Watchers think that you’ll begin an era where we’ll live side-by-side with the common with our abilities out in the open—the way it used to be. That we won’t rule over anyone, but we’ll work together to, you know, make things better.”

  Morgan smiled. “I think I like the sound of that better than what the Veneret have in mind.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He studied her for a moment. “I don’t think the other thing is your responsibility, though.”

  It took Morgan a moment to realize what he meant. “You mean my mom? You don’t think I should find her?”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I said. I don’t think it’s your responsibility to try to find her. We have Watchers who are actively looking for her—”

  “Fat lot of good that’s done so far.”

  “There aren’t as many of us as there are of the Veneret. And a lot of our energy is going toward keeping you safe.”

  Morgan felt a twinge of guilt. Part of her worried that her actions were making the Watchers’ efforts to protect her moot. The other part wondered if her mom could be located if less energy were devoted to her. “You guys don’t have to worry so much about me. Like Miss Scotford said, Orrick isn’t gonna attack me any time too soon. The Watchers should focus a little more on my mom. She’s way more important—”

  “Nothing is more important than you,” Wen said, leaning forward.

  Morgan stared at him. His hazel eyes were earnest, intense. Insistent. But she didn’t think she deserved his faith. She was a motherless child, not a savior. She looked away. “I don’t think I’m that important.”

  “You will.”

  “You sound so sure about that.”

  “It’s because I believe in you.”

  “At least one of us does.”

  Wen grinned. “I’m far from the only one with confidence in you, but if you need to rely on my faith right now, so be it.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. “I still feel like I need to find her,” Morgan said finally.

  “I know you do, but, Morgan—don’t. You really don’t understand how dangerous your search could be.”

  Kellen’s warning floated to the surface of Morgan’s thoughts and she gave an involuntary shiver. She should tell him about the dream. So far she hadn’t told anyone, not even Lucas when he helped her build the wall. But something told her that this was something she shouldn’t keep to herself. Still, Wen had told her not to use her abilities to See Kellen again—would he be upset even if she hadn’t been trying? She pressed her lips together, steeling herself for his reaction, but before she could speak, he was talking again.

  “Look, I know you feel like no one knows what you’re going through, but you’re wrong. You’re not the only one who’s lived for years without a parent.”

  Morgan looked at him, her resolve to tell him about her dream shaken from her mind. “You mean you? What—what happened?”

  Wen closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before responding. “I was fourteen when I first got a job in Orrick’s operation.”

  “Fourteen? Isn’t that kinda young?”

  Wen shrugged. “Not really, actually. My parents knew how important it was for me to get in and be trained as First Contact before you started manifesting—”

  “First Contact?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Makes it sound like I worked for a special branch of NASA or something, huh? But, really, it’s just what Kellen was for you—the person who makes first contact with a Natural. Special taskforce, of course. I mean, there are other branches of First Contact who deal with the common—the ones employed by the Veneret, those the Veneret want to enter into business with, that kind of stuff.

  “But my parents knew how important it was for me to be First Contact.” He paused, smiling sadly. “I actually hoped it would be me to meet you first, but, as we both know, Kellen beat me to it. Luckily, Kellen, Tesin, and I were all on the same team, but still.”

  Morgan felt her pulse quicken at his mention of Kellen. “Do you… Do you miss them?”

  “My parents?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean Tesin… and Kellen?”

  Wen considered this a moment before responding. “Sometimes. I mean,
I met Kellen right after I joined up. And then Tesin was put on our team a couple years later. We… They were kind of like brothers to me.” He laughed. “Kellen and I were actually roommates for about a minute. But it couldn’t work out.”

  She leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “Because you’re a Watcher? Were you afraid he’d figure it out?”

  “No, that wasn’t it. I mean, yeah, I guess it was a concern, but… He’s too neat. I couldn’t even leave a book in the living room. And if I didn’t put the remote back where it belonged…” He whistled. “After that, Tesin and I roomed together for a while.”

  “And you weren’t afraid Tesin would figure out you weren’t Veneret?”

  Wen pursed his lips, as if debating something. “That… That was never a concern with Tesin.”

  Morgan allowed his meaning to sink in. “You mean Tesin—”

  “He’s a Watcher. But, for obvious reasons, that information’s kind of on the down low, so…”

  Morgan mimed zipping her lips. “I won’t tell. But… Why didn’t he come out as a Watcher when you did?”

  He shrugged. “We wanted to leave a spy in First Contact as long as we could—in case they got a lead on the last Natural. Also… we try to station Watchers strategically in Orrick’s organization to plant seeds of doubt there. You know, make people actually think about what they’re being asked to do instead of just blindly following.”

  Morgan’s mind began to race. What if Tesin got through to Kellen? Could that be why he’d reached out to her to warn her about Aurelia and the task force dedicated to infiltrate her mind? Maybe since Wen had left, Tesin and Kellen were working together for the Watcher cause.

  Wen cleared his throat. “But we were talking about my parents. They were pretty active in the Watcher community, so once I joined up with the Veneret, they couldn’t exactly be an active part of my life. When I showed up to Orrick’s headquarters, I had a completely fabricated life to tell him about and I had lots of practice blocking my thoughts and emotions. I mean, it’s not uncommon for Veneret teens to leave their family to work for someone like Orrick—especially teens from families who aren’t particularly well-off. That happens sometimes when someone who’s Veneret doesn’t exactly agree with the life—you know, taking whatever they want to get ahead—but doesn’t want to go the other way and join the Watchers. Or sometimes there are members of the Veneret who marry someone who’s common. They’re pretty much ostracized from the Veneret community, but, since abilities are becoming more and more scarce, the Veneret still accept kids who aren’t pure Veneret—as long as they manifest abilities.