The day after Thanksgiving, before she returned to school, Courtney got a call from Mark, who seemed all sorts of excited.
“I’ve got to show you something,” he said. “Can I come over?”
“Is it—”
“No,” Mark said quickly. “No new mail. It’s something we’ve been working on.”
“We?”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Is it okay if I bring Andy Mitchell over too?”
Courtney hesitated, then said, “You know I’m still not used to you hanging out with that roach.”
Mark laughed. “I know. But things are different.”
“Fine,” Courtney said. “Just make sure he takes a shower first. And washes his hair. The guy’s disgusting. That hair always looks like the Crisco fairy just paid him a visit.”
“I’m not going to tell him that,” Mark said.
“And there’s no smoking in my house,” Courtney said. “And deodorant is good. So is a toothbrush.”
“Can I bring him over or not?” Mark asked impatiently.
“Yes,” Courtney said. “I’m just giving you a hard time. But make sure he takes his shoes off before he comes in. No, wait, I don’t want to smell his socks. He can leave his shoes on.”
“Good-bye, Courtney,” Mark said with a laugh. “We’ll be there in an hour.”
Right on time, Courtney’s doorbell rang. She opened the door to see Mark and Andy standing there. Her first thought was, He didn’t wash his hair. But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to embarrass Mark.
Courtney thought the two guys made an odd pair. Mark was shorter than Andy, with black hair that wasn’t so much long as it was curly and unruly. It always looked like he had been in a windstorm, even after he got a haircut. They were the same age, but Andy looked much older. Or maybe, Courtney thought, Mark still looks like a little kid. Andy had the red blotches from a bad bout with acne, which didn’t do much for his overall appearance. Courtney always thought that if he washed his face and hair a little more often, he might not have had to deal with so many skin problems. His dirty-blond hair always looked stringy and wet. He wasn’t a handsome guy either. Where Mark was cute in a kind of little-boy way, Andy looked like an older kid who had already seen too much of life.
“Hi!” Mark said brightly.
“Hey, Chetwynde, how you feeling?” Andy asked.
“Great,” Courtney said. “Steal any good books lately?”
“Courtney!” Mark chastised.
Andy shook his head and snorted. Courtney wanted to gag.
“You’re hysterical, Chetwynde,” Mitchell said. “Anybody ever tell you that?’
“Sorry,” Courtney said. She meant it too. “Old habits. C’mon in.”
She led the boys into the house and to the kitchen.
“You guys want some leftover pumpkin pie?” Courtney asked.
“Sure!” Mark chirped.
“Did you make it?” Mitchell asked.
“Are you kidding?” Courtney answered. “No!”
“Then I’ll have some,” Mitchell said.
Courtney glared at him, and got the pie out of the refrigerator. Mark and Andy sat down at the high counter across from her.
“So what’s going on?” Courtney asked.
Mark could barely contain his excitement. “The project Andy and I are working on got accepted for the eastern regional science exposition! Isn’t that awesome?”
“Uh, yeah,” Courtney said, though it didn’t sound like she meant it.
“Geez, Chetwynde,” Mitchell said. “Try to contain your joy.”
“I’m sorry,” Courtney said. “That was rude. I just don’t know anything about it.”
“It’s leading up to the single biggest high school science competition of the year is all!” Mark explained. “The regionals are next week in Orlando. If we win our class, we go to the nationals in January!”
“Wow,” Courtney said. “That is pretty good.” This time she meant it.
“Pretty good?” Mitchell said. “It’s freaking awesome. You’re looking at a couple of geniuses.”
Courtney stopped and looked at them. Neither looked like a genius, but then again, she didn’t know what geniuses were supposed to look like. She could accept that Mark had the goods, but she still couldn’t get her head around the fact that Andy Mitchell could spell his own name let alone create something that would be honored by a national committee. She decided not to challenge them, for Mark’s sake. She put their pieces of pie down on the counter and said, “So what’s the big project?”
Mark smiled and said, “That’s why we’re here. Nobody outside of the club at school and the judging committee has seen it. We wanted you to be the first civilian to get a look.”
“Mark wanted you to be the first,” Andy corrected.
Courtney let the dig pass. Mark reached into his backpack while Andy picked up the piece of pie with his hands and bit off half. He could barely close his mouth to chew. Courtney stared at him in wonder. She held out a fork.
“This works too,” she said flatly.
“Nah, I’m good,” Andy said through the mouthful of gooey pie.
Mark pulled a small metal box out of his backpack. He opened it and reached inside, saying, “This is so revolutionary, Mr. Pike at Sci-Clops thinks we should get it patented.”
“Enough buildup, what is it?” Courtney demanded.
Mark took something out of the metal box and placed it down on the counter. It was a round dull-gray object about the size of a golf ball. It wasn’t perfectly round. It had facets and bumps, as if it were made of clay. To Courtney it looked like . . .
“Silly Putty,” she said. “This is your big revolutionary invention?”
Mark and Andy exchanged knowing smiles.
Mark said, “We call it ‘Forge.’ ”
“Because . . . ?”
“Watch,” Mark said. He leaned in close to the object and said, “Activate.”
The thing didn’t move.
Courtney looked at the two guys curiously and asked, “Did it activate?”
“Yup,” Andy said.
Courtney nodded. “Nice,” she said, unimpressed. “Dull, but nice.”
Mark said, “The mechanics are fairly rudimentary, nothing big there. The skin is something Andy’s been working on for a while now. My contribution is the brain that drives it.”
“Wow,” Courtney said sarcastically. “No wonder you’re going to Orlando! Be sure to say hi to Mickey and Goofy for me. Especially Goofy.”
Andy said, “You just don’t get it, do you?”
“What’s to get?” Courtney said quickly.
Mark leaned down to the object and said in a firm, clear voice: “Cube!”
The object began to writhe. It looked to Courtney like the center was full of worms that had all decided to shift at the same time. She heard a faint metallic clattering sound. Five seconds later the object had changed itself from a ball into a cube. Courtney stared at it, wide eyed. Andy gave Mark a smug look. Mark beamed.
“Still think we should be hanging with Goofy?” Andy asked.
“That’s incredible!” Courtney shouted. All traces of sarcasm were gone. “How did it do that?”
Mark leaned down and said, “Pyramid!”
As before, “Forge” moved and squirmed and transformed itself into a pyramid. Courtney couldn’t take her eyes off it. Then it was Andy’s turn. He leaned down and said, “Sphere.”
The object bumped and shook, and in moments it was back to ball shape. Still wide eyed, Courtney leaned down to the sphere and said, “Orlando Bloom!”
The object didn’t move.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andy asked.
Courtney shrugged and answered, “I figured if it could turn into anything, it might as well be something interesting.”
“Courtney!” Mark said, chastising.
“Hey, I said we were geniuses, not magical,” Andy said defensively.
“I’m kidding,�
�� Courtney said quickly. “This is awesome. How does it work?”
Mark answered, “Like I said, the skin is something Andy’s been working on for a long time. It pulls into any shape and it’s almost indestructible. I programmed the voice-activated device and built the arms inside that form the shapes. It’s pretty rudimentary, but there are a lot of moving parts. That’s why it only becomes three different shapes.”
“Oh,” Courtney said. “No Orlando Bloom?”
“Not today,” Mark said. “But who knows? The idea of Forge technology is to create products that can become a variety of different shapes.”
Andy said, “So instead of having a whole toolbox full of wrenches, you have only one that can mold itself into whatever size you need. Or into any other tool you need.”
Mark added, “Or imagine a road that won’t crack when it expands and contracts with the weather. Forge technology would make roadways breathe, so that you’d never have to repair them.”
Andy said, “Or you can have a chair for your little kid that grows along with him. Or a football helmet. One size fits all.”
“Imagine a car that can be reduced to a third of its size when you get out,” Mark said excitedly. “Think of the space saving!”
“The idea is to take things that are solid and make them flexible,” Andy said proudly.
“It’s all about options,” Mark added.
“But no Orlando Bloom?” Courtney asked.
Mark and Andy looked at her blankly.
“It’s a joke,” Courtney said flatly. “Is all that really possible?”
Mark shrugged and said, “Not now, but who knows where this might lead? The whole thing works with a watch battery!”
Andy picked up the Forge object and threw it on the floor. It bounced up like a Super Ball. He caught it and announced, “It bounces pretty good too!”
Courtney took the Forge object from Andy and stared at it. “I don’t know what I’m more amazed at,” she said. “The technology, or the idea that the two of you came up with it.”
Andy said, “What you really mean is you can’t believe I had anything to do with it.”
“Well, yeah,” Courtney admitted.
“I don’t know what our competition is,” Mark announced proudly, “but I can’t imagine anybody beating this.”
Courtney looked to Mark, then to Andy and said, “Neither can I. This is amazing. I am totally impressed.”
Mark beamed. Andy shrugged.
Mark put the Forge object back in its case, and they finished their pie. As they ate, Mark excitedly went into the details about how he and his mother and father were flying down with Andy to Orlando the following Wednesday and the competition was the day after. Andy didn’t say much of anything. He wasn’t the best at making conversation. Before it was time to go, Mark hit the bathroom, leaving Courtney and Andy alone in the kitchen. Courtney watched Mitchell as he wiped his plate with his finger and licked the pumpkin remnants off. She had to force back the urge to retch.
“So,” Andy said. “Things ain’t turning out the way you thought, are they?”
“Give me a break,” Courtney shot back. “You’ve been a jerk your whole life. You expect me to believe you suddenly turned into a great guy?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” Andy said. “I’m not a great guy. I’m not a bad guy. I’m just me. What can I say?”
“You can say that you won’t do anything to mess things up for Mark,” she said sternly. “He is a great guy, and if you do anything stupid, you’re going to have to deal with me.”
“Oooh,” Andy said with mock fear. “I’m quakin’!”
“Just don’t be a jerk, all right?”
Andy stood up and said, “I might be a jerk, but if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be lying in a ditch up there in the mountains.”
This stopped Courtney. For a moment she had slipped back into remembering the old Andy Mitchell. The Andy Mitchell that was the scourge of grade school.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I owe you.”
“No you don’t,” Andy said. “Just try to be a little more, I don’t know, open-minded. All right?”
Courtney didn’t say anything. She knew he was right, but it killed her to admit it.
Mark came bouncing back into the room saying, “So? You coming back to school on Monday?”
“Absolutely,” Courtney said. “The return of Courtney.”
“Whoa! Stand back!” Mitchell said jokingly. They all laughed.
When the guys left, Courtney was left feeling off balance. She was happy for Mark and proud that he was going to the regional competition. She was even legitimately impressed with their Forge thing. It was Andy Mitchell that made her feel odd. Having him turn out to be an incredibly smart, good guy didn’t fit the way she thought the world was supposed to work. As much as it was a good thing, it just felt weird. As she cleaned up the pie plates, she decided that the only problem with Andy was her. She realized she was being rigid. People change. People grow up. They mature. She knew that. Who was she to say that Andy Mitchell couldn’t be one of those people? If Mark accepted him, then why couldn’t she?
Courtney promised herself that she would stop judging Andy Mitchell by the old rules, and look at him the way Mark did. Besides, she thought, she’s got her own problems to deal with. On Monday she was going back to school.
SECOND EARTH
(CONTINUED)
It felt like the first day of school for Courtney because in many ways, it was. It was strange and exciting and scary and overwhelming all at the same time. In a word, it was excellent. Her mom had dropped her off and asked if she wanted help to get inside. Courtney’s answer was a stern “You’ve got to be kidding” look. Mrs. Chetwynde shrugged, gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, and watched as she walked slowly back to school for the first time in seven months.
When Courtney stepped into the school, it reminded her of when she stepped into the flume. It was like entering a strange and scary new dimension where she didn’t know exactly what to expect. She knew she could handle the physical part. She’d worked too hard on her therapy to worry about that. She also knew that classes would be fine. She looked forward to being back with a real live teacher. What made her nervous was facing her friends. She had no idea how they would treat her.
What happened was . . . things couldn’t have been better.
Courtney was totally relieved to find that nobody pressed her on the details of what had happened the year before. They all wanted to know about the accident, and how she was feeling, but when it came to the question of why she’d left school in the first place, her friends were cool. It wasn’t like they were avoiding the issue. Just the opposite. They would bring it up, but would say things like, “Glad you’re back to your old self.” And, “We missed you.” And, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” Even some of her rivals from the soccer team went out of their way to wish her well and say they hoped she’d get back up to speed as soon as possible. They told her that since a whole senior class had graduated, they needed her in a bad way. It blew Courtney away. She never expected to be treated so nicely. It wasn’t like anybody felt sorry for her either. They seemed to respect that she was having a tough time, and genuinely wanted her back to her old self. Nobody judged her, or made fun, or snickered behind her back. What she’d feared was that her friends were going to act like kids and not know what to say. What she found instead was that they, like Andy Mitchell, were growing up. It made her realize just how long she had been gone. It made her a little sad, but she couldn’t have wished for a better homecoming. Or schoolcoming. It felt to Courtney like the whole nightmarish experience made her stronger. At one point she had to chuckle when she thought that she had Saint Dane to thank for getting her head back on straight. If he only knew, she thought.
Courtney didn’t see Mark for those first few days. They didn’t share any classes. They didn’t share any friends, either. Other than Bobby. She wan
ted to see him though, if only to show him that she was almost back to normal. By Wednesday she still hadn’t seen him, and knew that he was leaving for Orlando that evening. So rather than go home after school, she had her mom drop her off at Mark’s house to say hi and wish him good luck at the competition.
What she ran into instead was . . . disaster.
She rang the doorbell. There was no answer at first. She was about to leave when the door was suddenly thrown open. Mrs. Dimond stood there, looking stressed.
“Courtney!” she exclaimed. “You look so good!” Mrs. Dimond threw her arms around Courtney and gave her a big hug. “But I can’t talk now, we’re in the middle of a crisis.”
“What’s going on?” Courtney asked.
“Don’t ask,” she said. “No, go ask Mark. He’s in the living room with Andy Mitchell.” Mrs. Dimond leaned into Courtney and whispered, “Is that guy a little, I don’t know, greasy?”
Courtney chuckled and said, “No, he’s a lot greasy.”
“Good,” Mrs. Dimond said. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so. Go talk to them.”
Mrs. Dimond left her and hurried up the stairs. Courtney saw that at the foot of the stairs were all their suitcases, packed and ready to go. She walked into the living room to see Mark sitting on the sofa looking nervous, while Andy paced.
“Hey, ready to go?” Courtney asked.
Mitchell looked up, spotted Courtney, and his shoulders fell. “Don’t you go giving me a hard time,” he said anxiously. “I’m having a bad enough day as it is.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Courtney asked as she sat in an easy chair. She needed to sit down. Though she was feeling better, the three days she’d spent at school had taken a lot out of her.
Mark said, “The sprinkler in Andy’s uncle’s florist shop just exploded.”
“It didn’t explode,” Andy said. “He must have been smokin’. I know that guy. He set it off. Idiot.”
“Whatever,” Mark said. “Andy came over, we were all set to leave, and then he got the call.”
“Five minutes from a clean getaway,” Andy lamented.
Mark added, “His uncle says the place is a wreck.”
“There was a flood and it blew out the heat,” Andy said angrily. “Just his luck the weather turned frigid last night. The place is turning into a skating rink.”
The Quillan Games Page 13
