The Pandora Project

by Heather A. Cowan

  I give him a scathing look but try to sound like a happy teenager when I say, “Just let me grab my purse.”

  Running as silently as possible, I rush to my room, throw my gloves on and scrounge around in my backpack for my purse. I make sure my second pair of gloves are still in there, grab the spare cash off my dresser and head back for the door. Noticing my shoes are still pretty wet, I chuck them off and put on my most comfortable pair of New Balance. I’m not exactly a fashion statement, but I want to be ready to run if I have to.

  When John sees me returning, he hollers much too loudly to my parents, “It was very nice to meet you, Dr. Mills. I’ll have her home in no time.”

  Dad calls back from the office in a very muffled voice, “Have fun, love you, Paige.”

  “Love you,” I call as John guides me out the door.

  When the door clicks shut behind us, my throat tightens and a chill creeps slowly down my spine, leaving a wake of goosebumps. Dread threatens to overwhelm me until I look into John’s eyes. The concern etched on every feature of his beautiful face gives me the courage to walk away from the peace and love my parents and my home offer.

  Chapter 9

  The only reason I am not overjoyed to be in the front seat of a cherry red Porsche 911 Carrera, with a boy who is probably the most fascinating person I have ever met, is that I am still so stinking confused. “Nice car,” I mutter, thinking what an incredible understatement it is but hoping it fits with the small talk we are continuing to make.

  “Yeah, my dad’s way of apologizing for moving me senior year.”

  Rubbing my hand along the tan leather and breathing in the scent all luxury vehicles seem to come standard with, I say, “You didn’t mention this in your sob story the other day, you wouldn’t have come out looking quite the victim if you had mentioned an $80,000 car.” His backers must have deep pockets.

  “Well, it is an older model and used so we got it cheap. Besides, my dad thinks it will be easier to keep track of me in a flashy car.” He raises his eyebrows, and cocks his head, confirming he is definitely being tracked…As if I couldn’t figure that out from the chip in his shoulder! The trees buzz by in a blur of green, burnt orange, and cranberry red. It would be hard to miss this car speeding down the highway.

  “Do you want to explain about Ashlynn?” I ask, figuring he might as well answer for his sins if he is going to ruin my life anyway.

  “Nothing to explain,” he starts shaking his head vigorously, letting me know he didn’t really mean what he was saying. “I told you I wanted to see where kids hang out around here. When you weren’t interested, she was more than happy to oblige.”

  Somebody start explaining things to me! Here I am, a mobile Chernobyl, and I feel powerless and completely in the dark. We continue to make small talk, he asks what my favorite kind of ice cream is (Ben and Jerry’s S’mores); I ask his (Chocolate Cookies and Cream); favorite color, food, movie. All the regular things teenagers might talk about while getting to know each other.

  Between the car, the conversation, the gorgeous guy and the perfect fall weather it would be a dream date. Of course the fact I just destroyed a perfectly innocent sink with my shimmering hands of doom and my date had a tracking chip surgically removed from his body has a way of dampening the situation.

  We get to Main Street Station, what passes for a mall in Painted Rock, and John bypasses some great parking spaces right up front for a spot midway down a lane slightly off to the right. He gets around and comes over to open my door for me. I guess chivalry isn’t dead. As I lean to get out of the low riding vehicle, he offers his hand. “I’m good,” I say, glaring at him. Yes, I get it, you aren’t afraid to hold my hand. If you only knew!

  We enter through the archway that marks the beginning of the “mall.” Main Street Station is actually a section of old Main Street that is blocked off from traffic with storefronts on both sides. Quite a few of the stores are in original old houses, stores and even a saloon. Newer additions have been added to make one long solid row of stores on each side. The third store down on the right is one of my favorite.

  The Ice Cream Shoppe with its yellow lettering and wooden motif is exactly what its name advertises. Although not as generic as the name, the inside is exactly like an old time ice cream/candy shop. I have always loved it and given that it is a gathering place for high schoolers, it has managed to survive an economy as potentially stagnant as Painted Rock’s. John, not to be dissuaded, puts a hand lightly on my elbow and steers me to The Ice Cream Shoppe.

  Struck by the warm wave of waffle cone scented air, I can’t help but take in a deep cleansing breath. Lexi waves to me from a booth in the back as soon as we walk through the door. I look to John, but he just waves casually back. He doesn’t look surprised, “Did you know they were going to be here?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Had no idea,” he deadpans back. “What great luck, though, it will be great to hang out with them.”

  John starts scanning the menu plastered to the wall behind the counter, deciding what to get. No need for me, my parents and I are regulars here and Gil, the owner, doesn’t even have to ask. “Better make it a double tonight, Gil. I’m starving.”

  Gil scoops out his homemade S’mores ice cream and passes it to me with a wink and a smile, “Just don’t overdo it, Sweetheart.”

  Smiling at our inside joke, I leave John to deal with the bill. It is the least the Porsche driving traitor can do! My hand trails down the counter, dropping to the faux leather swivel seats lining it as I head over to Lexi and wiggle my way into the booth. The high back and overstuffed cushions wrap me in a sweet and safe cocoon. Nothing can hurt me here; surrounded by friends and childhood memories.

  The feeling passes when John takes his seat next to Jake. While still unable to comprehend what he is to me and how he figures into my life, I can’t hate him...I don’t want to like him.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Lexi asks as soon as we are all seated, but she doesn’t wiggle her eyebrows, wink or any of her normal antics to egg me on. This is definitely not a coincidence. The light that normally shines so bright from her eyes seems muted and sad.

  “First date,” John answers for me.

  “Be careful,” Jake says while punching John in the shoulder, “if you feed Paige her favorite ice cream right off the bat, you aren’t saving much for later!”

  Everyone laughs at his attempt at a joke but it all feels forced, rehearsed. Lexi picks up the conversation, “Do you remember when we came here after Kindergarten graduation?”

  I moan at the memory and the source of my joke with Gil, “Let’s not talk about this, I’m eating.”

  “No, please, I don’t want to be the only one left out of the story,” John makes a circular motion with his spoon to encourage Lexi, not that she needed it.

  “We came here to celebrate. My dad promised us we could have whatever we wanted, but he never would have dreamed Paige would ask for a triple in a waffle cone.”

  “I’d never gotten to choose whatever I wanted before, I wanted to make it good,” I interject, trying to justify what I know is coming.

  “Paige gets a scoop of bubblegum, a scoop of cotton candy, it was blue, and a scoop of birthday cake. As soon as Gil gave it to her she started chowing down. Everyone told her to slow down, but she ate it like she was afraid someone was going to take it away from her!”

  “I was! Did you see my mom eyeing me the entire time? The only reason she didn’t take it was because she didn’t want to hurt your dad’s feelings.”

  Lexi laughs and continues, “As soon as she gets done she starts to turn green. Her mom tried to get her to the bathroom in time but failed epically!” Paige points to a spot about four feet away from the restroom, “Right there is where our sweet Paige gave Gil everything back.” She starts laughing hysterically and tears appear in her eyes. She laughs for a while longer and wipes at the tears on her face. It could be my imagination, but they don’t appear to be tears of joy.
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br />   “I don’t think Gil appreciated my return,” I try to turn the attention away from Lexi so she can compose herself a little bit.

  Jake finishes up his ice cream, “I am so glad I wasn’t here for that one. Paige I think that may be the only life event of yours that I actually missed. It has been the three of us forever!”

  Why does this feel like good-bye? “It has, I appreciate you putting up with me…I know it hasn’t been easy as you guys have gotten more…intimate?” Jake turns red and it is John’s turn to punch him in the shoulder.

  “Well, if I have my way,” John turns his eyes to me, “It will be the four of us and we can make Paige uncomfortable with some intimate moments, what do you guys think?”

  I can’t help but blush, even though I know he doesn’t mean it, and when Lexi bumps my shoulder my heart breaks for the private jokes we won’t be sharing any more. I know things are changing and Lexi does too. Whatever part of John’s master plan gave me these few moments with her I am thankful.

  We finish up our ice cream and make our way to John’s car. Right outside the ice cream shop Lexi jumps on Jake’s back for a piggy back ride. Jake runs her in circles until she begs to be let off. She runs back to me and slides her arm easily through the crook in my elbow. It is her favorite way to walk with me.

  As we approach John’s car, Jake lets out a long whistle of appreciation. “You are kidding me, dude. This is your car?”

  “Yep, do you like?”

  “No, I love!” Jake runs his fingers lovingly over the rear bumper. “Can I drive it?” he asks hopefully.

  “Absolutely, just don’t get pulled over. My dad will kill me.” John tosses his keys to Jake, who catches them easily. Jake isn’t surprised that John is letting him take his car. In normal circumstances he would be jumping up and down and peeing himself. This is definitely part of the plan.

  Lexi passes her keys to John, “You can take mine, I’ll bring Jake back for his later.” She pulls me in for a tight hug, “I love you,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Love you, too,” I whisper back, trying not to cry.

  She gives John a quick squeeze as well and I see him transfer the chip from his jeans pocket to the pocket of her jacket. She skips away before I can grab it away and John pulls my hand back. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers loudly as he squeezes my hand for emphasis.

  On the way to Lexi’s car, Jake and Lex drive up, Jake rolls down his window, screams, “Try to keep up!” and speeds out of the parking lot.

  “Get in, now!” John jumps in the driver seat of Lexi’s Prius. “We don’t have much time, we need to make our move before they reach your house.”

  “What have you done? Are Lexi and Jake in danger?” Heat rages through my body at the thought of anything happening to either of them. It is bad enough my entire family is at risk, but my best friends too?

  “No, they don’t know anything. They’ll get to your house and wait for us to show up. They will wait, and wait and then they will call the police. They will be watched, certainly and I am sure some attempt will be made to get the chip off of Lexi, but they should be safe.”

  “You set this up, what did you tell Lexi?”

  “This is why I let Ashlynn bring me here. I needed to get a note to Lexi, hoping you would come with me. I don’t know how long they were there waiting for us. Thankfully it is not all that uncommon for kids to hang around there for hours. I just told her your life was in danger and we needed to swap cars. She played along amazingly well.”

  “She is wonderful,” I say with a catch in my voice. “She just believed you?”

  “Not really, I also told her I know the truth about your hands and your family. She is not stupid. She believed me.”

  “Do you really know the truth?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

  “I do.”

  “Will you please tell me what is going on?”

  He takes a deep breath, “I don’t know if you can handle it.”

  “TELL ME!” I scream and clench my hands as I realize they are heating up. How can he cause these intense outbursts of emotion? Maybe because he has come into my life, messed with my hormones and ruined everything we have been working on for the past seventeen years.

  Breathing deeply to calm myself I try again, “Please tell me, I can handle anything.”

  “Where to start?” he asks as he looks in the rear view mirror. I assume he is watching for a tail.

  Chapter 10

  “I think the beginning would be good,” I answer sarcastically. What a stupid question.

  “Alright, the beginning. About thirty years ago, a brilliant scientist by the name of Andrew Cox became obsessed with genetic mutations caused by frequent or excessive exposure to different types of radiation.” He glances over at me and again checks the rearview mirror.

  “Go on,” I prompt.

  “Do you want the scientific explanation, or the comic book explanation?”

  “Let’s shoot for something in between,” I respond impatiently. “I am pretty sure I can keep up either way.”

  “Right. In between.” He pauses, continuing to check his mirrors, his hands a death grip on the steering wheel. “I assume you are aware of the treatments your mother received while she was pregnant with you?”

  “Don’t insult my intelligence, of course I am aware,” I testily respond.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know and I will fill in the blanks for you then,” he has never been so gruff with me and it takes me by surprise.

  “Right, you aren’t going to get information out of me that easily.”

  He lets out a mean snort, “I have a feeling I know a lot more than you and I am more than willing to share all I know. I am the one making all the sacrifices to save your butt so how ‘bout you give me the benefit of the doubt for a moment?”

  “What do you mean you are making all the sacrifices? If I am not mistaken I just walked away from my entire life on your word.”

  Again he laughs, but in a condescending almost cruel way. “Well, my father was killed by the man who is after you, my mother will soon die by the same hand, I have walked away from my life more times than I care to count and hours ago I let your father cut into my shoulder with no anesthesia to remove a tracking chip so I could help you escape. So let’s pretend for one second that I am on your side and deserve at least tolerance if you can’t muster something more than that. Do you think you can handle that?”

  Speechless and horrified, I force myself to melt into the seat. How could someone who has endured so much pretend to be a happy-go-lucky teenager? A strange mix of horror, gratitude and sympathy washes over me, leaving me unable to respond to his tirade. Staring out the window, I try to hold back tears. Unfamiliar landscape shoots by at incredible speeds. I thought I knew every nook and cranny of Painted Rock.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “In the short run, we are heading to a car your father has stashed for a situation exactly like the one we find ourselves in.” Judging from the anger in his voice, I’m not getting out of an apology.

  “I’m sorry.” I try not to sound defensive as I say it. “I’m so confused. I’m scared and I feel completely alone.” That better be enough because that is all he is getting.

  “Clearly, you had a very involved conversation with my mother. Are you ever going to share?”

  He turns to face me and his eyes soften, “You’re not alone. You have me.” He releases his death grip on the wheel and runs a finger lightly down the side of my face. Every muscle from my knees to my shoulders clinch in response and I hate my body for reacting so intensely to his touch.

  Trying to negate my body’s reaction, I just nod and turn away, denying him access to my face. We both lurch forward when John slams on the breaks and curses under his breath. “Just missed our turn,” he explains as he throws the car in reverse to backtrack. Good thing the road we are on is practically abandoned.

  “Your dad was very specific about how m
any miles outside of town this road would be,” he answers my unasked question.

  “Not sure you could call this a road.” The trail he pulls off on is little more than two thin lines of rock that are barely keeping the grass at bay.

  “That is the point.”

  We follow the trail for a very uncomfortable couple of miles until we are well behind the tree line. The overlapping branches of the Ponderosa pines provide a wonderful cover that obscures from any passing cars. We come to a barn that looks to be growing out of the trees. The distressed forest green and deep brown it was painted with ensure the barn is incredibly well concealed.

  John gives me a look of appreciation, “Your dad is a genius.”

  “I know,” I say in a tone of hushed reverence.

  We pull as close to the barn as John can manage without ramming the doors. John jumps out and I can barely see him enter a code on a touch pad on the outside of the barn door. The door rises like a garage door and John runs back to the car.

  Driving into the barn, I notice a pretty nondescript black Ford Fusion. Parking beside the Fusion, John jumps out and gets to work. I hesitate before getting out. Should I leave a thank you note for Lexi? Let her know how much she helped us? I can’t do anything to endanger or implicate her so I send silent thanks, bring my fingers to my lips, reach over and press them to the dashboard. After saying my goodbyes, I drag myself over to the trunk of the new car.

  John throws a new outfit to me, “Change your clothes, everything, underwear too.” I bobble the clothes, embarrassed he has handled my undies. I stare at him blankly, “What?” he asks, staring at me.

  “Um, you want me to change here?”

  “Sorry, I won’t look,” and he turns and starts rummaging through the trunk again. Realizing this is as good as it gets, I pull off my shirt. When my shirt is off, John starts stripping down. Should I turn around as well? His pants and underwear are off before I know what is happening and I find myself ogling his bare backside. He is so perfectly shaped; I can’t seem to look away. Great, I’m a monster and a peeping tom!