Now, for the first time since meeting the DeWeeses, I wanted to find the journals before anyone else did.
~~~~
Anita was arranging pastries and bagels on a platter when I stormed into the kitchen. “Lexi, everything okay?”
I stopped suddenly, and swiped a tissue under my nose one final time insuring my nosebleed had stopped. Jack sipped coffee at the breakfast table by the windows on the other side of the room. Did everyone rise early in this house?
Jack smirked for some reason, then narrowed his eyes.
What? I squeezed my nose again with the tissue. The bleeding had stopped.
“Would you like some breakfast, Lexi?” Jack asked.
“I could make you an omelet,” Anita offered. “Or some tea?” A silent message passed between Anita and Jack.
I surveyed the counter. “Um… tea would be great. Thank you.” Unusually bashful, I approached Jack slowly and slid into a chair across from him.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
My eyes wandered toward Anita, who steeped a tea bag into a cup and then back to Jack. “Fine, why?” Could I talk to Jack in front of Anita? Should I ask him why Cathy hates me? Or about Sandra?
Suddenly, Jack knocked over a glass of orange juice. It formed a river that ran right into my lap.
I pushed away from the table. Anita came running with a clean towel. “No use crying over spilled orange juice,” she said.
An uncomfortable chuckle escaped my mouth as I continued to wipe my jeans. “Maybe I should ask you if you’re okay,” I said to Jack.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice suddenly edgy.
Anita wiped the table, lifting plates and silverware. “Can I get you more juice?” she asked Jack.
He shook his head. He shifted his dark eyes on me. “What’s with the nosebleed so early in the morning?” He poured himself another cup of coffee from a carafe. His tone sounded angry, which confused me.
I was unsure whether to tell him what I had just overheard. His mood seemed strange, like it had changed since I stormed into the kitchen. “It’s just a nosebleed. I’m fine.” After a final wipe of my jeans, I tossed the towel on the counter. “I’m going to go change. When do you want to go back to school?”
“You want to go back today?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just thought you would want some time.” He sat his coffee down. “Sit for a second.” He pushed the chair out with his foot.
Anita left the room. I pressed my hand against my nervous stomach, but then took a seat.
“The dean said to take a couple of days.”
“I don’t want a couple of days.” I glanced over my shoulder to verify we were alone. “I appreciate what you did for me last night…” A shoulder to cry on. A consoling kiss. A get-together in the barn.
Jack slid his hand under mine and rubbed my fingers with his thumb. “But...?”
“But I need to get back to school. I have things I need to take care of.”
“Like what? What can’t wait?” His eyes drilled into mine.
I shifted in my chair. “Stuff.” Lots of it.
“What kind of stuff?”
“I don’t answer to you, Jack.” Retracting my hand, I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, exasperated.
He stared at me. “No, you don’t. But I thought we were… friends.”
I stood. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Jack, but I’ve known you all of a week.” He winced at my words. I pushed two fingers into my temple and rubbed. “And a lot has happened since then.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. When I met his eyes again, he couldn’t have appeared more hurt. I fought through the lump in my throat. “I’m confused, Jack.” I didn’t know what else to say. “I just need to go back to school.”
With that, I turned and shot out of the room, thankful not to run into Cathy.
Chapter Twelve
The rest of the day was business as usual—swim practice, a full day of classes, work in the library, avoiding all grief and any thoughts of the chilly ride back to school. Jack hadn’t spoken to me since he dropped me off at the girls’ dorm that morning.
That was fine with me, or at least that was the lie I was telling myself.
Yeah, business as usual until I turned the corner out of the dinner line to face a group of seniors arguing over tacos. Kyle gripped a handful of the shirt of Wellington’s best soccer player. Tom’s face was as red as the bowl of salsa on the table in front of him, and Kyle dared him to repeat whatever it was he had said.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I yelled, sidling up beside them. Kyle did not relax his grip. The creepiest of smirks spread across Tom’s face.
Danielle pushed back from the table, grabbed her tray and approached me. “Come on. It’s just a stupid fight. Let’s go sit outside.”
“She’s going to hear it eventually,” Tom said.
“Shut up, man,” another guy at the table said. “Show some class.”
Kyle pulled Tom closer then shoved him backward, letting go. “You’re such a jerk.”
Tom fell backwards over the chair, landing on the floor. Mr. Keiser, the physics teacher, came running over. “What is going on here?”
Danielle tugged on my arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
We passed by the food line just as Jack came around the corner. He lifted his chin in a silent hello. He seemed to assess the situation behind me. Danielle pulled me on.
We carried our trays outside to the picnic tables behind the cafeteria. It was a nice night. A comfortable breeze rustled the plastic peeking beneath the trash can lid. Two other groups of classmates surrounded tables at the other end of the patio extending the length of the dining hall.
“Want to tell me what that was about?” I asked, sprinkling toppings inside my chicken soft taco.
She just stared at me. Her cheeks drooped.
“What? About my dad? The tabloids? I already know what the trash media is saying, Danielle.”
“You’re not upset?” she asked, playing with the corner of her napkin. “You know… that they know who your dad was?”
“It was just a matter of time before our wonderful classmates figured things out and formed opinions. I can’t stop that. My dad was who he was.” My voice cracked. I couldn’t blame them for forming opinions. Not even I was immune to disagreeing with Dad. “I don’t want to talk about any of that tonight, okay?” I had cried enough.
She smiled. “Sounds good to me.” She pushed my tray closer. “Now eat.”
“Yes, mom.” I dolloped sour cream across my taco.
I didn’t want to talk about what the tabloids were saying because I was frightened they were right. What if my dad had been producing cloned human beings for years? I already knew he supported the altering of embryos’ DNA. What if he was producing deformed and diseased monsters he would later have to destroy? What if I was one of those monsters?
I shuddered at the thought of an innocent child being born with no arms, or only one eye. Or what if the baby appeared normal only to be plagued with illness his entire life—a faulty heart or kidneys that didn’t work? How could my dad do something so controlling and thoughtless? So completely god-like, but without love or compassion for life?
Then there was Jack and me. I still wasn’t sure what we were. How had our minds had been tweaked? Did that mean my dad had created me without love?
If Dad did what the tabloids were saying, would that make him a monster? I shuddered. I had to find whatever proof was out there before that proof fell into the wrong hands. I had to know. Although I was fairly sure I didn’t want anyone else to know the truth.
“So, roomie,” Danielle started, interrupting my thoughts. “Tell me what’s going on with you and Mr. Six-Pack-Abs.” She swirled a tortilla chip in the air, dripping salsa on the table.
I spooned a rather large bite of guacamole in my mouth. “Nuuuhhing,” I mum
bled, and green goo must have shown through my teeth, because Danielle scrunched up her nose and turned away laughing.
“Euwww,” she said. “You’re so gross. But effective in changing the subject.”
I laughed. And it felt good. Grief followed me around all weekend. This was the first meal I actually felt like eating without throwing up.
“Don’t look now,” Danielle said, bowing her head in my direction. “Mr. Hot Abs at twelve o’clock.” Her lips twitched into a sly smile. Her eyes roamed past me over my shoulder. “Holy cow.” Danielle shot up like she had just spilled her drink. “What happened to you?”
I rotated in my seat and lost my appetite again when I saw blood streaming down Jack’s face. I knew the mark of a fist when I saw one.
~~~~
I dabbed gauze against a cut dangerously close to Jack’s left eye. We sat in chairs outside Coach Williams’ office by the swimming pool. The reflections of the water danced in his eyes.
He smelled so good, even over the strong scent of chlorine, as I leaned into him and studied the injury. Think of something to say, I told myself. Anything. “You need ice.” I bowed my head and rummaged through the first-aid kit.
Jack smiled. He watched my every move. His head dipped when mine did. His eyes were directed at mine whenever I risked a look at him. He wanted to kiss me, and I wasn’t completely sure I didn’t want him to. Why did I feel like he saw straight through me? Reading my mind even?
“You gonna fight every one of my fights, bro?” I asked. He winced. Whether it was from the pain when I applied antibiotic ointment or from the title I gave him, I couldn’t be sure.
He glared at me with his one good eye. “I’m warning you, Lexi. Don’t call me that.”
I reached across him and grabbed a couple of butterfly bandages from the first aid kit.
Just as I chalked the uncomfortable tingle in my belly up to the two bites I’d managed to swallow of refried beans, Jack grabbed my arm and stopped me from pulling backwards. I concentrated on his good eye, which was a vivid blue tonight.
“You know you won’t be able to fight what’s going on here forever.” With his other hand, he pointed back and forth between us.
I thought my heart might implode. “And exactly what do we have going on here, Jack?” My words came out a little snippier than I had planned. “You are the son of my new legal guardian. You’ve sworn to watch over me while investigators do their thing. I’ve known you all of three minutes.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And someone killed my father. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet.” Although his mother did say she didn’t want Jack anywhere near me.
I heard the crack in my voice when I mentioned Dad. I had fought back tears all day. I wasn’t about to let them flow now. Not in front of Jack.
He released his hold on my arm. A look of hurt passed over his face. “I get it, Lexi. But you’re not alone.”
Oh, yeah? Then why do I feel that way?
He slid a finger under my chin and lifted. “You’re not alone.” He said each word slowly.
I nodded while he held my face directed toward his. “So, why can’t you heal this spot over your eye? I’m afraid you might need stitches.”
“Everyone saw me get hit. I wouldn’t be able to explain the miraculous healing.” He let go of my chin, his fingers lightly brushing my skin longer than necessary.
“Ahh.”
“Besides, I was sick for three days after I healed your arm. There are consequences to these powers we have. You of all people should know that.”
I thought about my nosebleeds. They’d gotten worse lately. I smoothed the butterfly bandages over Jack’s cut, allowing my fingers to linger along his temple. Or had I been speaking to the minds of others more, therefore making my nosebleeds more frequent? My pills were supposed to help that.
“Shit! My pills.”
“What?” Jack’s eyes opened wider. “What pills?”
“I take pills for my headaches and nosebleeds. They’re supposed to prevent them. Or at least minimize them.”
I shifted in my chair and pulled my bag into my lap. I dug past books and notebooks until I wrapped my fingers around the small pill bottle.
Just when I flipped the cap off, Jack grabbed the bottle from my hand.
“Hey,” I reached for his arm, but he stood and walked toward the pool. “What are you doing?”
He turned the pill bottle upside down and emptied the entire bottle of pills into the pool. “When was the last time you took one of those pills?” he asked.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“When, Lexi?”
“I don’t know. I… I guess…” I studied his face. His expression was serious. “The day you arrived at Wellington. We were sitting on that bench, and you had bought me a Chai tea. I totally forgot about them with everything going on.”
“Are your headaches more frequent without them?”
It was like he was testing me, and it was starting to piss me off.
“Answer me. Are the headaches and nosebleeds worse since you stopped taking the pills?”
“No,” I said. The nosebleeds were more frequent because I had been bending people’s minds more. My headaches had been the same. “Why did you throw them in the pool?”
“They’ll dissolve. I don’t want you taking those.”
“Why do you care?”
He narrowed his gaze.
“I meant, how do you know that those pills weren’t helping my headaches?”
“Because I was taking those pills. Started them when I entered The Program. I could barely heal a paper cut while on those pills.”
~~~~
A loud bang startled me awake. I sat up in bed and took in my surroundings. Only I wasn’t in my dorm room. I was back in Gram’s house—the house I grew up in.
I climbed out of bed and ran from the room, down the stairs and outside. My grandmother stood on the porch holding a shotgun.
“Gram?”
She turned to me. Her face softened. She reached a hand and smoothed my hair out behind me. “It’s okay, dear, go back to bed. You’re safe.”
“Gram, what are you doing with that gun?”
“I’ll always protect you, Sarah Alexandra.” Suddenly, Gram’s body shifted and morphed into a dark figure. The figure bent over and picked up something from the table. When it stood, it held a cigarette that flared.
It laughed as it flicked the lighter open and closed.
Then it turned and aimed the shotgun directly at my head. Before it could fire the gun, another sound rang through my thoughts.
An alarm. Someone grabbed my arms and shook my body. “Wake up, Lexi.”
I opened my eyes. I was lying flat on my back. Jack stared down at me. Danielle stood behind him with a strange deer-in-the-headlights look. I glanced from Danielle, back to Jack. “What are you doing?” I sat up and took in my surroundings. I was outside.
His lips twitched. “What am I doing?” There was uneasy laughter behind his words.
“Sweetie, the fire alarm is going off.” Danielle stepped around Jack. “It woke me up, but you were already gone. Jack and I found you asleep on this bench.”
How had I gotten here? I ran my fingers along the wood of the bench outside the library. “Is the alarm going off in both dorms?”
“What? No,” Danielle said.
“Then why are you out here?” I studied Jack’s expression.
He shifted uncomfortably, ran a hand through his hair. Girls gathered outside the dorm behind him. A fire engine blared in the distance. “Danielle, do you mind finding out if there really is a fire? Lexi is shaking she’s so cold.”
The pajama shorts and tank top I wore barely covered me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms and legs. Jack removed his light fleece jacket and wrapped it around me, leaving himself dressed only in pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips, his bare chest exposed. I gasped at the sight and prayed he didn’t notice.
He knelt in front of me, resting
his elbows on his knees. “If you’re going to sleepwalk, could you please sleep in more clothes? For your sake and mine.” A mischievous grin spread across his face, and I must have blushed. “Want to tell me what’s going on? Do you usually wander in your sleep? Is this something I need to start worrying about?”
Is that what I had done? Walked in my sleep? I’d never done that before. “What are you doing out here?” I asked
“I heard the alarm. I was concerned.” His tone was defensive.
“About what?”
“About you. And for good reason. How did you get out here?”
I leaned over at the waist and buried my face in my hands. How did I get to this bench? The image of my grandmother saying my full name had been so real. Had she actually done that? I didn’t remember her ever holding a gun. And she didn’t smoke. The figure had morphed into someone else. And the memory of the gun pointed directly at my face made me shiver. I lifted my head and our eyes met. “Something strange is going on, Jack.”
“What do you mean?” His voice rattled with nervousness.
I rubbed my hands back and forth over my face. “It’s like someone is getting inside my head.” First the figure with a cigarette at Jack’s farm that turned out to be my imagination, maybe. Now this strange nightmare.
Jack sucked in a quick breath. A line formed between his brows.
I could almost see his mind wandering elsewhere. “Why do you think our fathers hid so much from us? I mean, if we’re in danger now, wouldn’t it be logical to tell us everything?”
“You would think. I’m sure my father thinks he’s protecting us.”
“You’ve gotta give me more, Jack.” I reached out and touched his hand. “Please.”
He parted his fingers and allowed mine to slip in between his. “I don’t know what I can tell you.” He lifted his eyes, his face wrinkled in discomfort. From the touch maybe. Or the line of questioning. “From what mom told me, the lab burned down, your father left town, and my dad picked up the pieces of his life and started over doing stem cell research for another lab.”
“How did you find me at Wellington? What made you even look for me?”
Mindspeak Page 11
