by Melinda Metz
No. No, no, no, she thought. Remember the last time you decided to hand Michael an ultimatum—choose between me and Isabel right here, right now? Remember what a babbling, stammering, sweating hunk of patheticness you were that day? And remember how you so did not like what you heard? You were positive you’d feel better if you could just make Michael say something concrete. But you were wrong. Wrong to the power of infinity. So learn from your past mistakes. Even rats in mazes can learn from their mistakes, and so can you. Keep your mouth shut.
Maria locked her teeth together. She crossed her legs. She crossed her arms. She tightened her muscles, using all her strength and will to not speak.
“Do you need to stop?” Michael asked, not even looking at her. “There’s a gas station in a couple of miles, I think.”
“Mmm-mmm,” Maria answered, shaking her head. She didn’t dare to allow herself any actual words.
“Are you sure?” he pressed.
“I’m not a toddler. I know if I have to pee or not, Michael, all right?” she blurted out. She clamped her teeth back together hard—and caught a tiny piece of her tongue between them. Do not attempt to speak again, she told herself. She’d felt this sucking sensation when she’d opened her mouth to make the pee announcement. If she hadn’t gotten her lips together as fast as she had, a whole flood of words would have come rushing out. It would not have been pretty.
Maria scrunched her jean jacket into a ball, propped it against the window, and rested her head on it. She wasn’t kidding herself. She knew that there was no chance she’d fall asleep. But pretending to fall asleep would make it easier to keep the dam of her teeth closed tight against the words.
She concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even, which was the best way of appearing really zonked out, but for some reason the slower she breathed, the harder her heart pounded, slamming painfully against her ribs. It felt like it was trying to escape, to say the words she wouldn’t allow her lips and tongue to form—Michael, what in the holy hell does “I’m thinking about it” mean? Are you going? Are you staying? And what about me?
“We’re here,” Michael announced. Maria only opened her eyes after the car came to a complete stop, then she scrambled out of the passenger door and started toward the main entrance of the Bradley Institute without waiting for Michael.
She rushed inside and over to the front desk. “I—we’re—here to see Kyle Valenti,” she said breathlessly, trying to concentrate on something other than the possibility that Michael was going to be living in another galaxy in the near future.
“That’s nice,” the nurse answered with a way-toobig-smile. “Kyle hasn’t had many visitors. Just his aunt.” She pushed a clipboard toward Maria. “I just need you to sign here.”
Maria did, then moved farther down the counter so Michael had room to sign as well. She caught a glimpse of his hands as he wrote and wished she hadn’t. Just looking at them made her think about all kinds of things she didn’t want to think about. Like the way they felt tangled in her hair. Or stroking her back. Not that his hands had been doing anything like that in a long time.
“I’ll buzz you in,” the nurse said, pulling Maria away from her thoughts. “Kyle’s in the common room. It’s the second door to the left.”
Michael continued to trail along behind her, which wasn’t exactly like him. Apparently he wasn’t all that eager to talk to her, either. But why? She wasn’t the one who was planning on deserting him.
“This is the second door,” Michael announced from behind her.
“I knew that.” Maria spun around and marched back down the hall to the second door. Michael opened it for her like she was some kind of invalid or something, and she strode through. She scanned the room and saw Kyle and a couple of older men parked on a ratty couch in front of the tube.
“Kyle,” she blurted out, her voice sounding oddly loud in the large room.
Kyle looked up, but he didn’t seem very excited to have visitors. He shoved himself to his feet and headed over to them.
“What?” he demanded.
“How have you been?” Maria said, suddenly nervous and wishing she’d thought to bring him some candy or something. Kyle wasn’t one of her favorite people, but nobody should have to live in a place like this. It was clean, and the nurse had seemed friendly and all, but the place smelled … depressing. There was too much Pine Sol filling the air.
“You did not come here to find out how I’ve been,” Kyle answered, voice flat. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. Maria had to concentrate to keep from taking a step back.
“The guy who killed your father is dead,” Michael said, voice low and intense.
A flash of emotion—pain, anger, sorrow—burst across Kyle’s face, then he tightened his lips and stared at them expressionlessly. “You didn’t come here to tell me that, either. You want something.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to try to feed you a load of bull,” Michael answered. “We need the device—the one you used on the Stone that day.”
“Oh, sure. I have it right here in my pocket,” Kyle said sarcastically.
“This is important, Kyle,” Maria told him, looking him in the eye. “Life and death.”
“Well, Liz should have thought about whether or not you would need me for anything before she got me shipped here,” Kyle answered.
“Liz didn’t—,” Maria protested.
“Like hell she didn’t,” Kyle interrupted. “I got put on the express train to squirrelville the same day Liz told those reporters I hadn’t been myself since my dad died. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
“What do you want, Valenti?” Michael demanded in a harsh whisper. “Money?”
Kyle laughed, a laugh that went on way too long. Maybe the kid did belong in a loony bin. “Yeah. They have a great mall in here.”
“Then what?” Michael asked. Maria noticed his hands curling into fists. She wrapped her fingers around his arm, silently warning him not to lose his temper and trying to ignore the heat she could feel seeping from Michael’s body into hers.
“Oh, gosh. It looks like it’s time for my meds.” Kyle jerked his chin toward another nurse, who had begun moving through the room with a tray of little paper cups. “You’ll have to excuse me.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Maria and Michael staring after him helplessly.
“We never should have sent Michael and Maria to get information from Kyle,” Isabel told Trevor, tucking a stray blond hair behind her ear as she perched on the edge of her bed. “Neither of them has the necessary finesse.”
“And you do?” Trevor asked teasingly, causing her to blush. Isabel found she liked being teased by him, which was somewhat unusual. It put him in a very small and very select group.
She put on her haughtiest look. “Don’t you ever doubt it. I drip finesse,” she answered.
“Ooh. That’s attractive,” Trevor shot back.
Isabel laughed, stretching out flat on her back on her comforter. “Give me a few minutes in Kyle’s dream orb, and we’ll have the exact location of the device. Then we’ll be so close to getting Max back.”
Trevor stood up from her desk chair. “Should I go?” he asked, suddenly sounding sort of shy in an adorable little-boy way.
“No, it’s okay.” Isabel closed her eyes, pleasantly aware of Trevor’s eyes on her. She turned her head slightly, allowing her blond hair to fan out on her pillow. Pretty picture, huh, Trevor? she thought. Then she began tensing her muscles and relaxing them in sequence, from her feet all the way up to her neck. Tense, relax. Tense, relax. Her body went all soft and pliant, and the swirling orbs of the dream plane became clear in all their shimmering glory.
So beautiful. Isabel let out a sigh of pleasure. There hadn’t been enough beauty in her life lately because she’d been so worried about Max. But she had a feeling deep in her gut that their latest plan was going to work. Liz had proved that Max could still respond, that he wasn’t completely and totally controll
ed by the consciousness, at least not every moment. When they used the device to shatter the consciousness, Isabel was sure her brother would find a way to help. And to free himself.
One of the dream orbs whirled closer, brushing soft as a soap bubble against Isabel’s cheek. She recognized the orb. It belonged to Tish Okabe, one of her closest friends—outside the tight circle of those who knew the secret. Isabel allowed herself a moment to appreciate the iridescent whirls of color in Tish’s orb, then began to hum, coaxing the dream orb that belonged to Kyle toward her.
It responded almost immediately, whipping toward her bullet fast and spinning to a stop in her outstretched hands.
“Eager, aren’t you?” she whispered, then slowly spread her hands apart, urging the dream orb to expand. Soon it was large enough to step inside, but Isabel took a moment to survey the dream from without.
She felt a twinge of pity when she saw that Kyle was dreaming about being in the institution. The guy couldn’t even get out of there for a couple of hours when he was asleep. Well, she could give him one pleasant association with the place—while she was getting what she wanted.
“I think you’ll like this, Kyle,” she said. An instant later she was dressed in a nurse’s uniform, a very short, very tight nurse’s uniform. Her hair was in a French twist, with a few tendrils free around her face. “I think you’ll like this a lot.” With a satisfied smile she stepped through the wall of Kyle’s dream orb.
“Time for your shoulder rub,” she said, all bright and perky as she headed toward the single bed in the dreary room. “Sit up, please.” Kyle eagerly obeyed, and Isabel sat down on the bed beside him, taking a moment to turn the sheets from rough cotton to perfumed satin. She began massaging his shoulders, sometimes leaning close enough for her breasts to almost brush against him. Almost.
“I need to ask you a few questions. For your chart,” Isabel announced, keeping up the massage. “Can you describe one of your fantasies for me?”
“This is pretty much at the top of the list,” Kyle answered. He had to clear his throat a few times before he got it out.
“Uh-huh. Interesting,” Isabel answered. She also thought it was interesting how people would accept pretty much anything in a dream. She hadn’t changed her face or anything, but Kyle didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about Isabel Evans turning up as his nurse.
“And what’s your favorite color? I’m very curious about that.” Isabel moved the massage a little lower down Kyle’s back.
“Blue. Like your eyes,” Kyle answered immediately, needing to clear his throat a few times for that one, too.
“Mmm-hmm.” Isabel moved the massage still lower, getting a sound that was part gasp and part yelp from Kyle. “And that device that you used on the Stone. Where is that now?”
“Guys’ bathroom closest to the cafeteria.” Kyle half spoke, half groaned. “Metal box. Taped behind the toilet. Last stall.”
“Good boy.” Isabel patted him on the head. “I’m sure you’ll be out of here real soon. Just stop talking about aliens. That’s just silly.”
And she was outta there. Out of the orb and out of the dream plane. “Finesse, that’s all it takes,” she said to Trevor as she opened her eyes. “The device is at school. We’ll get there early and pick it up.”
Trevor stood up. “Good job,” he said. He backed two steps toward the door, then immediately took a step forward, toward her. “It’s almost time for the two hours’ sleep. I should change back to Max and go to my room.” He took another step closer to Isabel.
“Yeah, you probably should,” she answered, teasing-Trevor a little even though, being a guy, he didn’t realize he was being teased.
Trevor got a deer-in-the-headlights, Dawson-ish look on his face. “Uh, I talked to Michael, and if we shatter the consciousness, he’s going back home with me,” he blurted out.
Isabel felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart, but Trevor didn’t give her a second to recover from that little bombshell before he hit her with another.
“I want you to go with us,” he added. Then he stumbled forward, sat down on the bed, and kissed her. All his clumsiness disappeared as soon as his lips touched hers.
This has to be his first kiss in his human form. And he’s already so good at it, she thought fuzzily. Then she stopped thinking, all her attention needed just to feel. Feel his tongue brushing against hers, feel his hand curving around her neck, feel the heat of him as he pulled her closer.
“Wow,” she mumbled when he finally released her. And Isabel wasn’t a girl who said wow. Her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a mile.
“Do you think you would want to come back with me?” Trevor asked throatily. “Is it a possibility at all?”
Isabel smoothed her hair away from her face, trying to give her brain a few seconds to get fully functional again.
“I … I think I need to wait and see what happens with Max,” she answered. “He might not be in great shape when we break him free.”
Trevor stood up and met her gaze, his eyes serious. “Iz, I want you to be prepared. I don’t think—I really don’t think you should be assuming that Max is going to make it.”
Another stabbing pain, this one in her heart and her gut. “I’m really tired,” she said shortly, standing. “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Remember, we have to be at school early to get the device.”
She wanted him out of there, and she approached the door, forcing him to walk out ahead of her. As long as he stood in her room, his words would continue to hang over her head, waiting to fall, waiting to crush her.
“Isabel, I—”
“Just go, Trevor,” she said. Then, seeing the hurt look on his face, she forced a tight smile. “Please. I’m really tired.”
She didn’t let a single tear fall until the door was closed behind him.
“I cut school and started working on the timer,” Trevor told the group.
Michael leaned across his kitchen table and studiedthe silver disk in Trevor’s hand. “When will you have it ready to go?” he asked.
“It won’t take much longer,” Trevor answered, turning the disk over and over in his hand. “Isabel’s going to help me wrap it up and hook up a remote so we can guide the device at least partway through the wormhole. We should be finished late tonight.”
“So tomorrow morning we do this thing,” Michael said, glancing from Isabel to Trevor to Liz to Alex, but keeping his eyes away from Maria. He’d started having a hard time looking at her. It had gotten to the point where it actually hurt to see her face.
“Is there anything we should be doing?” Alex asked, leaning his elbows on the table.
Trevor shook his head. “Getting the timer and the remote hooked up is a two-person job. And that’s all there is to do.”
“That and get through tonight,” Liz said. She twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head, then immediately let it fall free. “The waiting is driving me crazy.”
Get through tonight, Michael thought. How was he going to do that? This could be his last night on earth. He shouldn’t waste it watching TV. Without a conscious decision, Michael’s eyes went to Maria. She was pale … and beautiful. He felt something wrench inside his body and looked away fast.
“I’m—I’ve got some stuff to do. Stay here as long as you want.” He made his escape, slamming out the door and pounding down the staircase leading to the parking lot. As soon as his feet hit asphalt, he started to run. He kept running until he got to the doughnut shop.
Yeah. This is definitely a last-night-on-earth kind of event, he thought as he stepped inside and pulled in his first breath of the sugary air. He couldn’t take off without having a few more of his crullers.
Michael ordered himself an even dozen, then sat down at his usual table and pulled a handful of hot sauce packets out of his jacket pocket. He got one of the crullers set up just the way he liked it and took a big bite.
It tasted like dust. He added more hot sauce and took anoth
er bite. More dust.
Michael finished off the cruller, then ate two more, pretending they actually tasted good to him, then he shoved away his tray. Now what? A last trip to the mall? A last slice of Flying Pepperoni pizza? A last trip to Adam’s grave to tell him that he was leaving?
He picked up one of the uneaten crullers and twisted it with both hands until it broke into sticky chunks. There was no question about where he wanted to go. Right now he wanted to be holed up in Maria’s girlie-girl room, doing … anything. Watching some bad horror movie. Anything. As long as she was there doing it with him.
But that’s not going to happen, he ordered himself. It’s not fair to her. And be honest, buddy, it would probably kill you.
Isabel nervously twirled a golf club between her fingers, scanning the parking lot of the Black Hole Putt-Putt Golf Course. She smiled when she spotted Alex’s VW Rabbit turning in, then rushed over to the car as he pulled into a parking spot. Isabel didn’t make a habit of rushing toward guys—even if she felt like it. But there was no reason to play those kinds of games with Alex.
“I got you a golf club already,” she announced before Alex even had a chance to swing both feet to the ground.
“Thanks,” Alex said. He took one of the clubs and shook his head, laughing.
“What?” Isabel asked, grinning because his laugh was always contagious.
“I was just thinking about the last time we came here,” he answered. “My brain was doing this gerbil-on-an-exercise-wheel thing. I kept trying to figure out if you thought we were on a date, or, you know, some kind of significant outing. And I was obsessed with debating whether or not you could actually want me to touch you.”
“I bet you almost had a heart attack when I kissed you,” Isabel said, nudging him with her club. “Remember? It was right over—”
