by E. J. Mara
You’d assume that after the snobbiest girl in school turns out to be some sort of guardian angel mutant who saves your life and then transports you to the innards of a futuristic-looking spacecraft, nothing would shock you. But no. Apparently, one can still be shocked …
I stand beside Nathaniel in a small, windowless room comprised of bright metallic walls and floors. To our left is a row of closed lockers, which Esther said are filled with Unseen’s supplies. To our right is a hallway I have yet to explore, and in front of us is a sight that’s making the hairs on the backs of my arms stand on end. I take a deep breath, and a step back.
“I can’t believe we’re here, looking at this,” Nathaniel whispers.
Unable to take my eyes off of the pitch black body suit that hangs in the opened locker before us, all I can do is point to the sleek costume’s utility belt and mutter, “It’s like …”
“Batman’s.” Nathaniel quietly finishes my sentence.
“I was going to say, like a futuristic fanny pack.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, looking at it from a different angle. “That too.”
“I keep saying we should cut it in half and move each half to the shoulders,” Esther pipes up from behind us, startling me. “That way, say Unseen’s hands are tied, then the utility belt is still accessible.”
The girl has appeared, once again out of thin air and she’s out of breath as she points to her shoulder and pantomimes a sort of biting gesture that makes her look like a crazy person. “See? If the utility belt’s at your shoulders, even if your hands are tied, you can still use your mouth to get to it.”
“Where’s my dad?” I ask, realizing that she’s returned alone. “I thought you went back for him.”
“I did, he’s fine.” Esther smiles and gives my shoulder a pat. “I took him to the cockpit. He’s all strapped in, resting. The sedative Dr. Mire gave him should wear off in about an hour and a half.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.”
Esther’s smile widens and she swings her arms forward and back like a little kid. “You’re welcome.”
I can’t help but take a second glance at her bruised eye, and though it’s healing well, the sight of it fills me with shame. I still can’t believe I did that to her.
“What about the hospital?” Nathaniel asks as his thoughts dart to his mother, “Did that helicopter crash into it?”
“It didn’t.” Esther shakes her head. “The chopper belonged to I.T.I.S., of course, and it had a Super Massive Luomnem device …” her voice trails off and pity forming in her eyes, she watches Nathaniel carefully, her thoughts filled with concern for him.
I brace myself. Did something happen to his mom? I gulp, my mouth going dry as the memory of what Dad said about the Super Massive Luomnem device he and Dr. Mire made comes rushing back to me.
“Did they,” I ask, “use it on the people in the hospital?”
Esther nods and Nathaniel turns to her sharply, “What did it do?”
“The Super Massive Luomnem machine is used to erase memories.” Esther speaks slowly, choosing her words carefully. “So, your Mom is physically healthy, but she’s experienced some memory loss.”
“Memory loss?” Nathaniel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in confusion, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt, all of them momentarily vanishing. In an instant, however, they resurface loudly, a mob of question upon question. “What do you mean?” Nathaniel asks, his eyebrows meeting in a scowl, “How much of her memory did she lose?”
“Um …” Esther shifts on her feet and, clearly uncomfortable, tugs at her pinkie finger. “Well, the memory erasing device, it …it erases up to twenty years of memory.”
Nathaniel’s face falls.
“I’m so sorry.” She rests her hand on his shoulder.
My heart sinks as Nathaniel’s eyes widen and grow fearful.
“Are you saying ...” his voice shakes and he clears his throat. “Are you saying she won’t remember me?”
“She won’t,” Esther gently replies. “No one in that hospital will remember anything from the past twenty years of their life. I’m so sorry.”
… I shouldn’t have left her there. I just left her …
Esther rubs his shoulder and I ask, “Is there any way to reverse the memory loss?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Esther shakes her head and sighs as she drops her hand to her side. “The only way a victim’s suppressed memories will return is if they come down with Alzheimer’s disease or dementia. That’s the only way.”
Nathaniel’s eyes water and he takes a deep breath. His thoughts, broken and half-formed, are full of him blaming himself for what’s happened to his mom. I bite down on my bottom lip, hating that he has to feel anything like what I felt when my mom died.
“It wasn’t your fault, Nathaniel.” I take his hand and give it a squeeze.
He doesn’t look at me, but his grip on my hand tightens.
... don’t cry, keep it together. You can’t cry in front of her...
As Nathaniel silently tells himself not to cry, I slide my arms around him and lay my head against his chest, hugging him as tightly as I can. He rests his head on top of mine and I hear him sniff.
“I’ll get you some water,” Esther quietly says.
We hold each other, Nathaniel’s thoughts filling the silence. I close my eyes, and guilt inches its way into my heart. He blames himself, but the truth is that his mom would be fine if it hadn’t been for my family. I.T.I.S. showed up at the hospital to get that formula from Dad and now, because of us, countless lives are ruined.
I don’t understand what’s so special about this formula my father supposedly made. Knowing Dad, it probably doesn’t even work.
“Here’s that bottle of water,” Esther says, her voice startling me yet again.
Nathaniel releases me but keeps a hold of my hand as he accepts the water. “Thanks, Esther.”
“Sure.” She turns to me. “Want one?”
I shake my head. I actually do want the water, I don’t know why I refuse.
“You going to be okay, Nathaniel?” Esther asks.
He nods and takes a swig from the bottle, forcing his thoughts away from his mother. I study the strained look on his face, wondering if this is what I’ve been like ever since Mom’s overdose; trying not to think about her and inadvertently making myself even more tense than if I’d let myself dwell on her for a bit.
“So.” He points to the black outfit hanging in the locker in front of us. “When are you going to admit that’s yours and tell us how you became Unseen?”
“There’s no way Esther’s Unseen,” I blurt. Both of them turn to me, and my face warming, I explain myself, “Remember, we heard Unseen speak when Esther was right there with us. So unless she’s a pro at throwing her voice, Esther’s not Unseen.”
Esther laughs and inches her way between Nathaniel and me. She rests each of her elbows on our shoulders and I try not to wince.
I know I shouldn’t be uncomfortable with her in my space. She saved my life and, more importantly, she got Dad away from that sociopath, Jayne Mire. Even so, I can’t help wishing she’d back off.
…oh yeah, I forgot. The Ice Queen doesn’t like to be touched…
Esther moves away from me and re-situates her full weight against Nathaniel as she says, “Karen’s almost right. I’m not a hundred percent Unseen, just fifty percent.”
I glance at Nathaniel and he’s watching Esther expectantly. In fact, he looks super comfortable with her all cozied up beside him. I cross my arms, scrutinizing the two of them. Why have I never noticed their relationship before?
Esther and Nathaniel get along really well. She always invites him to her movie nights and parties, and come to think of it, she’s the entire reason Nathaniel and I got into that argument the other day. What if they ... oh my God, what if they’ve hooked up at some point?
My jealousy spiking, I speak through clenched teeth, “I don’t understand what you mean, Esther.”
/>
“Well, Karen,” she offers me a pleasant smile, “maybe if you weren’t so busy being judgmental, you’d understand.”
“If you want to talk about being judgmental,” I retort, “who’s calling who an Ice Queen?”
She frowns. “I didn’t call you an Ice Queen.”
“You thought it,” Nathaniel points out.
Esther turns to him so quickly that her ponytail slams into his face.
He blinks her hair out of his eyes and says, “Sorry, Esther, it’s true.”
“Yeah,” I add, triumphant. “So next time maybe you should think before you …” I stop talking as the impact of what Nathaniel’s just said hits me.
Esther, like me, is staring at him in shock. Finally, she says, “Are you saying you heard what I was thinking?”
Nathaniel nods, his dark eyes going from me to Esther. “Ever since the accident, I’ve been hearing other people’s thoughts.”
“Me too.” I meet his eyes.
“I kind of thought so, but I wasn’t sure,” he says with a shy grin.
It’s the first smile he’s attempted since the horrible news about his Mom. Seeing it is a relief and even though I’m internally freaked out by the fact that the boy I like has a front row seat to my every thought, I return his smile and confess, “If there has to be someone who can hear my thoughts, I’d want it be you.”
Nathaniel’s grin widens. “Same here.”
Esther clears her throat. “I hate to butt in, but I’m in the Hearing Thoughts Club too.”
I’m not a fan of bad language, but I have to bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself from uttering an especially foul expletive.
Esther grins and tousles Nathaniel’s hair as she says, “During the car accident, something must have happened to all three of us.”
I glare at her. Why does she have to keep touching him? It’s like every time she says something, she has to touch his shoulder, his arm, or his hair. I cross my arms. “How awesome, Esther.”
“I know, right?” She beams. “It’s a rad ability, but it can get a little confusing when I’m around a lot of people because it gets hard to tell whose thoughts belong to who. Other than that, I’m so loving it.”
“Well,” I mumble, “just remember that when you call me an Ice Queen I can hear you.”
“And,” Esther quickly says, “you should remember that every time you think, ‘oh, my God, Esther’s touching Nathaniel. Does that mean they hooked up?’ we can both hear you.”
Heat travels up to my neck and face. My gaze darts to Nathaniel and his lips are twitching as he tries not to smile. Embarrassed, I nod to Unseen’s suit. “Would you just explain who Unseen is?”
“Like I said, I’m half of Unseen,” Esther says, her blue eyes shining with merriment. I watch her, confused. It’s like this girl doesn’t take anything seriously. We’ve just been chased by a titanium giant, broken the news to Nathaniel that his own mother will never remember him, and she’s on the verge of revealing Unseen’s secret identity. In spite of all of this, Esther looks like she’s about to burst out laughing. I don’t know if I want to laugh with her or punch her in the face for being so maddeningly happy.
“Esther,” an all-too familiar female voice fills the ship and Nathaniel and I look around at the gleaming silver walls as the voice instructs, “bring them to the cockpit for lift off.”
I gasp, barely able to speak. “I know that voice.”
Reconstructing her ponytail, Esther laughs and says, “I wish you could see the look on your face. It’s like you just realized your red jell-o is canned beets.”
“Why does your … ship,” Nathaniel slowly asks, “sound like Peake High’s guidance counselor?”
Esther pats Nathaniel’s shoulder and immediately stops, removing her hand as if his shoulder’s burned her. She glances at me. “Sorry, Karen, I know that bothers you.” I blink back at her, too stunned to respond. Esther takes this as her cue to continue, “That wasn’t the ship, it was the intercom through which you heard Ms. Greenich’s voice because she’s the pilot. She and I, we’re sort of Unseen.”
“You’re sort of Unseen.” I repeat. I glance at Nathaniel to see how he’s taking this and he looks ten miles past lost.
“Relax, this’ll all make sense soon.” Esther gives me a slap on the back and I stumble forward. With that, she starts down the hallway at our left and calls over her shoulder. “Then again, maybe it won’t make sense at all. In any case, just go with it. Come on, follow me.”
Nathaniel and I exchange glances. Unable to believe that I’m at the mercy of our school’s most snobby girl and our guidance counselor, I fall in stride behind Esther and pray that these women have what it takes to rescue my little sister.
I CROSS MY arms and peer into the family portrait hanging in Esther’s sitting room. Stationed between a plush red couch and mahogany coffee table, it isn’t the kind of professional Sears or K-Mart photograph most families have. No, that’d be too ordinary. This, instead, is a large oil painting. Esther looks about ten or eleven, and she’s smiling as a woman with curly brown hair drapes an arm around her shoulder. The woman laces the fingers of her available hand through one belonging to a tall man with dirty blonde hair like Esther’s. The three of them look super happy, like the perfect family. But according to what Esther said when she brought me in here, the man and woman are nothing but actors who were hired by Ms. Greenich and my father.
I look around at the other paintings, all of them hanging in expensive frames. A few hours ago, when Ms. Greenich landed our mode of transportation, an invisible “ship” that she and Esther call Iris, in a deserted field, Nathaniel looked around, his face brightening as he said, “I know where we are!”
I’d looked past the pilot’s chair and into the window ahead where I saw cows, a lake, a field, and then more cows, more lake, and more field. It looked like any average spot in Peake, and I’d wondered how he knew where we were. But once we exited the ship, I understood. Esther’s house, a huge mansion that stood less than a mile away, was sprawled across several dozen acres, and it was more sophisticated than I could have ever imagined.
Of course Esther’s “castle” and its surrounding acreage looked familiar to Nathaniel; he was one of the many who’d been invited to her infamous parties. But me, the judgmental CODA who lived in the kind of neighborhood where no one had their own garage, let alone sixty or more acres of land, of course I’d never been invited here.
I slip my thumbs through the belt loops of the jeans Esther’s let me borrow. Even in our current situation -with Tessa having been kidnapped by some whack scientist who’s obsessed with my dad, and with the ability that Nathaniel, Esther, and I share in common- I still feel this twinge of insecurity about the gaping difference that separates Nathaniel and me.
I’m not jealous of Esther’s money, but I am completely, one thousand percent envious of her easy access into friendships with people like him. Their money links them in a way I’ll never understand.
My gaze returns to the fake family portrait and I sigh. Since we left the hospital, Nathaniel’s been holding my hand and planting himself at my side like a boyfriend, and I love that …but it isn’t real. In the back of my mind, I know Julia’s waiting for him, and that no matter what, he’ll keep going back to her because the Julia’s (and even the Esther’s) of the world are who the Nathaniel’s belong with.
Trying to dismiss my depressing thoughts, I take a deep breath and get a whiff of the floral scent that seems to be following me everywhere. As soon as we stepped into Esther’s house, the smell grew even stronger.
…wish my foot would heal faster…
The whisper slinks into my brain, surprising me. Nathaniel’s the only one of us with a foot injury, so I must be picking up on his thoughts. I head for the guest bedroom that Esther told Nathaniel he could use for a shower and nap. As I make my way down the carpeted corridor, the whispers from his thoughts grow louder.
… need to take a second and tell h
er. But maybe now isn’t the right time. She’s probably too worried about her sister to care …
Just ahead and on my right, his bedroom door is cracked and light from the room seeps into the hall. My slippers are soundless against the soft beige carpet as I head to it. In front of his door I catch sight of one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and come to an abrupt halt, my heart flip-flopping in my chest. Nathaniel is shirtless, every one of the defined chest and stomach muscles visible as he zips the fly of a pair of jeans that he must have just put on. The sight of him making my mouth water, I bite down on my bottom lip.
He reaches for a T-shirt on the bed before him and his biceps stretch, accentuated. I automatically exhale, a thousand stiff breezes running up and down my spine. I wish I were where that T-shirt is and that he were reaching for me.
The shirt in his hands, Nathaniel freezes and a grin forms on his lips. Ever so slowly, he turns to me.
Crap.
Warmth flooding my face and neck, I inch away from his door.
“Karen, wait!”
I cringe as his footsteps sound near the door. He peers into the hallway, his dark eyes settling on mine.
My heart pounding, I attempt a smile and twist Mom’s ring around on my finger. “Well, I guess you heard that thought.”
Nathaniel grins, his gaze briefly darting to my jittery hands. He steps out of the doorway and I can’t help but take a second look at his bare chest. Below his broad shoulders are pecs that have been sculpted by the twenty-five to thirty hours he spends training each week, and his entire midsection, ridiculously ripped, forms a perfect V.
“If you heard even half of what I’m thinking when I’m around you,” he says, his face reddening, “you’d know you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Butterflies fill my stomach and all breathable air seems to get lost on its way to my lungs. So, I open my mouth and inhale a generous gulp of air. “Are y-you saying …” It’s like my mind has turned to oatmeal and I can’t manage to finish my sentence. So, for no apparent reason I start to laugh, but it’s a strange, high-pitched giggle that should come from someone like Julia.
