PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Are you in trouble?” I asked, trying to sound flippant.

  “Maybe. Probably.” He gave one of those closemouthed smiles people do when they’re trying to make you feel better about something bad happening. “I’m sure they’ll make me wear these for a little while longer.” He lifted his arms to reveal a pair of thin metal rings circling either forearm. It was strange that I hadn’t noticed them before, given how thoroughly I had inspected those arms. “They bind my abilities,” he explained, reading the confusion in my face. “I guess they want to make sure I’m trustworthy before I have access to my powers again. Or maybe it’s a way of punishing me for everything that happened. Either way-“

  “You’re neutered,” I finished.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” he smiled a little wider.

  “When will you go?” I asked. The shirt was a ball in his hands now, which had me yearning for my lost necklace or anything to fiddle with.

  “They’ll probably send for me in a few days, which is fine. Things haven’t exactly been easy here.”

  “I noticed. They’re pretty hard on you.”

  “It’s nothing more than what I deserve,” he straightened. “I was manipulated. I let myself be used. It was shameful behavior.”

  I remembered what it was like to see Owen’s life through his own eyes, the thoughts he had about his father. What kind of father could instill that sort of need for perfection in his son? I wondered how many of Owen’s words were his own and how many belonged to his father.

  “For what it’s worth, I hope things work out for you,” I said, but didn’t look at him. “I really do,” I turned again, this time intent on actually leaving.

  “You were wrong,” he said, and it stopped me in my tracks. “When you said you didn’t know me, you were wrong.”

  “Owen, I-“

  “You’re the only person who really knows me, maybe the only person who ever has.” He scrambled toward me now, clutching at his twisted shirt like a life preserver. “You were the first real person I ever knew. The first thing I said to you, they were like my first words.”

  “You asked me where the Science lab was,” I said, perplexed.

  “And you told me,” he continued. “And then you made some joke about Mr. Harrison’s hairpiece, and that’s when I knew you weren’t just some mark. You’re a person. You’re-you’re amazing.”

  My mouth was dry, my heart racing. But I didn’t know how to react. Turns out I didn’t have to, because he wasn’t finished.

  “The point is, I don’t remember who I was before Crestview, and I don’t think I want to. That boy was lost. He was scrambling for things that other people told him were important. I’m Owen Jacobs. I’m the guy who watched Pulp Fiction with you while the rest of the sophomore class quoted scripture. I’m the guy who hates olives and doesn’t know how to dress. I’m the guy you cried in front of when your mom didn’t do anything for your dad’s birthday because it hurt too much. Council or not, Breaker or not; that’s who I am. You know me Cresta. You do.”

  He turned away from me and slid on the now wrinkled tee. Before he did though, I noticed a black splotch, like one of those Rorschach tests Dr. Conyers used to give me, stretched across his back. I flashed back to another memory I saw through his eyes. His mother was in front of him when he was a child. There was a searing pain in his back. It must have been that. She must have been giving him a tattoo. But why would a kid who couldn’t have been more than nine years old need a tattoo? What was it she had said to him?

  Owen turned back to me, wiping a single tear from his eye. “And the worst of it is, I lied to you when it mattered most.”

  “You were tricked,” I said, my tongue betraying my quickly faltering steely persona.

  “Not about that,” he walked closer. “When you said you had feelings for me, I lied to you.”

  “You did?” I asked and, for the first time, took a step in his direction.

  “I had a safe house across the street from you. I had viewing perches nearly everywhere in town. I didn’t need pictures of you on my phone. The reason I had them was because I have feelings for you too. I have for a long time now. “

  My heart jumped as he stepped even closer.

  “I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with me, and I guess I understand why.” He touched my hand. I let him. “But if anything of what you felt for me has survived this, let me know. Because I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me, and I’ve spent way too long wondering what kissing you feels like.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t know how I felt anymore. The only thing I knew for sure, the one thing that was crystal clear to me was, that my heart was pounding and Owen was still touching my hand.

  I opened my mouth, still unsure of what I was going to say. “I . . . ” was the only word that would come out.

  He looked at me, his eyes hungry. “Close enough,” he said, and dove toward me. Before I knew it, he had swept me up into his arms. He lifted me off the ground and breathlessly kissed me. Maybe I should have pushed away. Maybe I should have held strong to the sheen of anger I still felt toward him, but his arms were around me, wrapping me up. His chest was pressed against mine, our hearts beating as one. The smell of him, the heat of him, and the taste of him as his lips melted into mine, invaded me and rendered any argument useless.

  I was so tired; tired of running, tired of feeling afraid and alone. I didn’t want to hurt anymore. The whole world had split open under my feet and nothing made sense. But somehow, Owen’s hands through my hair, his breath on my skin, did make sense. And for a minute, for a sweet minute, it made me forget everything else.

  It may have lasted a second, maybe a minute, an hour, or a year. The world seemed to freeze on a picture of us together and, when it started spinning again, we were both flushed and panting. We parted slowly. His arms tensed as he lowered me to the floor.

  “You know, don’t you?” He whispered into my ear. “What you mean to me. You must know. You have to.”

  He looked at me. His eyes were bright, expectant, and, even though we had just shared the most intense kiss of my life, somehow still hungry. I opened my mouth to answer, to tell him that I did know, that now I finally knew, but the words wouldn’t come.

  The door flung open, startling the both of us. I would have jumped if I hadn’t been pushed out of the way by a swirl of hands and black hair. I thought we had been ambushed when the blur jumped on Owen. Whoever blew my house up had found us, and they were going to take out Owen and then come for me. But, as the picture settled down, I realized that wasn’t what was happening at all.

  This wasn’t Ezra or Jiqui. This was a girl. And she wasn’t hurting Owen. She was hugging him.

  “I knew it wasn’t true,” her light voice said over and over again. “I knew you weren’t some turncoat. I knew you’d come back to me.”

  He didn’t have to say who she was. I knew. She didn’t have the bleach blond hair or the tanned beach body that I had once expected from her, but I could tell who she saw by the way she looked at him. She was the one in his memories; the girl with the black hair and familiar touch, and who she was made sense now.

  He pulled back from her and, looking as surprised as I’d ever seen him, said her name.

  “Merrin?”

  Chapter 12

  Perfect. Just Perfect

  Merrin, it was Merrin. How was that even possible? Somewhere along the line, I must have added Merrin to the pile of things Owen had made up to keep his cover. His cross-country girlfriend had just been a beard to dodge questions about why he wasn’t after any of the girls in Crestview, me included. Wasn’t she?

  Looking at her now, her dark shining eyes looking up at Owen, it was clear that she was decidedly not fake. Though, when she slid her hand along the small of Owen’s back, I sort of wanted her to be. He had kissed me, actually kissed me. After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, Owen finally told me he liked me, and that he had liked me for a long
time. And now, now she was here. And she had almond shaped eyes and perfect golden skin. She had hair like black silk and a body Well, I’m not a girl’s girl or anything, but her body was sick.

  And the worst part, the absolute worst part, was that she didn’t look anything like the sun kissed supermodel I had pictured in my head. No, Merrin was even more beautiful than that.

  But wait. Breakers weren’t allowed to date, were they? They were shoved together based on genetics or something, with no consideration to the way they actually felt about each other. So Merrin couldn’t be his girlfriend. Owen couldn’t even have a girlfriend. She could be his sister for all I knew.

  When she finally let go of him and settled beside me, I caught of glimpse of her backside in the mirror.

  God, please let her be his sister.

  “I don’t-Merrin, what are you doing here?” Owen’s face was a wide eyed blank slate as he looked from her to me and back to her again. She didn’t seem to notice. In fact, if she even knew I was in the room at all, she didn’t give any indication of it.

  “You didn’t think I would leave you here, did you; that I’d find out you’re back and not come? “ Her voice was light and airy. Her hand slid from the small of his back and rested inside his back pocket.

  Okay, she’s not his sister.

  “You’re here, so this is where I belong. I’m yours. You’re mine. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?” She whipped toward me, like her words were an accusation. Did she know? Had she seen us kiss somehow? Maybe that was her Breaker power, the ability to tell the last twenty lips you’ve touched. But her eyes didn’t hold any anger or harshness, and when she smiled, it didn’t look forced.

  “I’m sorry for the impropriety. I’ve just been waiting so long to see Owen,” she reached her hand out to me. I took it. “I’m Merrin; Owen’s perfect.”

  “Well, I mean, he’s pretty awesome,” I said, a blush creeping up my neck. “I’m not sure I’d say perfect though.”

  “No. I’m his perfect,” she repeated in a tone that made me think I should have already known. “His genetic match. His-what’s that other word they use-fiancÉ.”

  “Merrin,” Owen said, his eyes still wide. “I’ve been gone for two years. I-I figured you had, you know, found somebody else by now.”

  “Oh they wanted me to,” she turned back to him, her hands planted on her narrow hips. “Everyone told me you were never coming back. They said you were a turncoat; a disgrace to your family, a siege on your bloodline, and that I was making a fool of myself for holding on to you. Well, who’s the fool now? I knew you could never turn your back on us, on me; at least not intentionally. And I was right. Here you are.” She looked him up and down. “A little worse for wear, but’s it’s nothing I can’t work with.”

  “Merrin,I allowed myself to be manipulated. I am a disgrace to my family. When Echo told my father about what had happened, he wouldn’t even talk to me. He said he never wanted to see me again.”

  I watched a flash of pain run though Owen’s eyes. He had been hurt in all of this too. It took me too long to realize that.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself,” she chirped. “No one expects you to be perfect. Breakers as far back as the originals have had missteps while trying to accomplish the greater good. And as for your father, leave him to me. You know he could never resist my crÈme brulee. One bite and he’ll go right back to naming grandchildren.”

  CrÈme brulee? Grandchildren? She could cook and she wanted to start a family.

  I think I’m gonna be sick.

  “Oh my God,” I said to myself, pulling my hand away. “This isn’t happening. And you really call yourself his perfect?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” She shrugged.” We’re perfectly matched. It’s in our DNA. Shouldn’t you know this?”

  “I guess there are a lot of things I should have known,” I said, shooting a pointed look in Owen’s direction.

  “I thought she was gone,” he said and turned to her. “I thought you were gone. I didn’t think you’d wait for me. They told me they’d find someone else for you; someone better suited.”

  “Someone better suited than my ideal match?” Merrin’s brows rose. “And who told you this, the same people who lied to you for two years?”

  She took his hands in hers, something that sent a pinch of anger running up my arm.

  “You know me well enough to know that I don’t settle, and I don’t give up easily,” she said, and raised his hands so that they were pressed against her chest, against her very full, well-proportioned chest. “And I know you too. I had faith in you; faith that, whatever it was that took you away from me, would bring you back. And it did. You are the person I was born to be with, my other half in every way that matters. Why would I accept anything less than that?”

  “Because life has a way of laughing at your expectations.” Dahlia’s voice, still cold, still domineering, sliced through the room like a machete. She was standing in the doorway, arms folded. She wore a black blouse and matching pants. Her dahlia pin sat in its position near her neck. If possible, she looked even more irritated with me than when she had left. “And you’d do well to remind these two to address you by your field name. Perfect or not, it’s protocol in Weathersby.”

  “Your field name?” Owen asked. His hands were still in hers, still pressed against her chest. “You-you graduated? You’re a Breaker now?”

  “For almost six months. The Council of Masons even sent me to Crestview with Merrin to be their proxy.” she beamed. “And it’s Shine now. My Breaker name is Shine.”

  “It suits you,” he said, but didn’t look her in the face.

  He was right. It was in her face, in the way she moved. There was brightness about her, a lightness that seemed to come from the inside. She shone.

  “Now, if I might pull you away from your emotional reunion, we have things to do. Let my husband know that we’ve returned and we’ll need an audience with him in his office,” Dahlia motioned to Merrin. “Owen, Cresta; Echo’s office, five minutes.”

  “You’re Cresta?” Merrin’s eyes got wide as she looked me up and down, sizing me up like a piece of meat at a butcher shop. “Cresta from Crestview? That’s not possible. You’re just a girl, just a slip of a thing. There’s no way you’re the-“

  “Shine! Now!” Dahlia shouted. Merrin straightened up and hurried out of the room without another word. Dahlia just stood there, examining Owen and I. Her nose crinkled up and she rolled her eyes. “Five minutes,” she repeated. “And try to get ahold of yourselves. This room reeks of hormones and yearning.”

  ***

  Five minutes later, I found myself in Echo’s office with Owen at my side. He had spent the intervening time trying to apologize to me about kissing me and Merrin; the whole thing. But I wasn’t mad, at least not at him. The truth was, I wanted him to kiss me. I had for a while, whether I always wanted to admit it or not. And as for Merrin-Well, my monumentally bad timing wasn’t something I could blame Owen for.

  Besides, the thing that really irked me about the entire situation was what Merrin had said about that ‘perfect’ crap, and the fact that part of me thought she might be right.

  We found her sitting on one of the wooden chairs in Echo’s office. Casper was sitting beside her, looking at her like she was a piece of cream cheese pie. Echo was across from them, strumming his fingers familiarly across his desk. Dahlia stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders, shooting me daggered glances. Dr. Static paced back and forth behind Casper, whispering to himself. He stopped short when he caught site of us.

  “Very interesting,” he mumbled, looking at me. “Very interesting.”

  “Cresta, Owen, close the door behind you please,” Echo said, and motioned to a pair of free chairs. I tried not to look at him as I sat. I was too afraid I’d find some facial similarity that would prove what I didn’t want to be true; that Echo was my father. Was that what Merrin had found out in Crestview? Is that what had taken her so l
ong? Is that why that, even now, she was staring at me like I had kicked her puppy?

  “As you know, Dahlia took a team that included Shine,” he pointed to Merrin, who was still receiving the hungry end of Casper’s eyes.” To Crestview in order to get to the bottom of what happened to you and your mother a few weeks ago,” he started, his fingers still drumming. There was a distance in his voice that worried me.

  “A charming place,” Dahlia scoffed. “Maybe in a decade or two they might even get a movie theatre.”

  “Hey! That’s my hometown you’re talking about,” Casper balked.

  “You’re a Neanderthal?” Merrin made a face like she had just smelled rotten fish and leaned as far away from him as she could while remaining seated.

  “I guess that means we’re not going to have a June wedding,” Casper quipped, but I could tell from the sting that settled in his eyes that the barb hurt.

  I was about to say something. God knows I would have loved to, but Echo beat me to the punch.

  “Enough!” His fingers beat heavier against his desk. “Casper is our guest. As long as you are Shine, I suggest you treat him with the same respect that you expect.”

  I smirked a little, but tried to keep it to myself.

  “As I was saying, when Dahlia and her team made it to Crestview, they found that cleaners had already been there,” Echo stated.

  “Cleaners?” It was a good thing I wasn’t shy about asking questions, because that seemed to be all I’d done since getting to Weathersby.

  “Cleaners are like mental garbage men. They purge psychic remnants from places so that people like Dahlia can’t pick up on them,” Owen answered, leaning closer so I could feel his breath on my ear.

  “There are no people like me, young man,” Dahlia made her way to the front of the desk. “I’m singularly talented. It took a while longer than I expected, but I was able to gleam the truth of what happened, at least, as much as was there.”

  “Wait? You know who came after me? You know who killed my mother?” My body stiffened. I rose in my chair.