Take Me Tomorrow

by Shannon A. Thompson

  His words lingered because he wasn’t saying what I wanted him to, “That doesn’t make sense,” I finally argued. “You’re only plan is to get your sister out—”

  “Do you know why they killed my mother?”

  His question sliced through me.

  “She was the only one who had the exact ingredients memorized,” he said. “If we can’t make more, the drug will run out.”

  Phelps would win. Like my father said, he could kill all of us, but the war would go on as long as the people had the hope from tomo. Without that hope, they wouldn’t fight. They wouldn’t die for another generation’s freedom. They would forget about the freedom all together. It would die like a fairytale, a mere fantasy that was told at parties.

  “My sister has a photographic memory,” he continued, finally explaining Rinley’s purpose. “If we have any hope, it’s living in her head, and Phelps doesn’t even know it.”

  It wasn’t even about her life.

  “If she’s alive, we can live,” he finished.

  “But I defied it.”

  His knees bobbed up and down as if he were running. “I know,” he said, “but my hope isn’t the world’s hope.” He didn’t even care if it were a lie. “You’re also the only person I’ve heard of that happening to.”

  “So, what?” I questioned, “I’m special?”

  His tense lips spread out. “Of course you are.”

  A blush ran over my face, and he stood up, gesturing for me to join him. When I didn’t move, he spoke, “You wanted to know how tomo worked.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to take it.”

  His head hung back as he groaned. “I’m not giving you any,” he said, repositioning himself, but his words made it sound like he had some on him. He straightened up. “I’m going to show you.”

  In the darkness, his blond hair resembled a dim halo. His outstretched hand was impossible to leave empty. I grabbed his palm, and he pulled me to my feet. I held my breath and stared at the buttons of his shirt. The holes looked like little eyes, peering back at me.

  “Ready?” he asked, his voice rushed.

  I nodded, but I didn’t look at him until he laid his hands on my face. His palms were cold, but the pads of his thumbs were soft as he moved them over my eyes. When I shut my eyes, he spoke, “Sometimes you see it.” When he let me open my eyes, his lips were against my ear, “Sometimes you listen to it.” His tender voice traveled down my neck, and my nose brushed his shoulder. “Smell comes next.” He smelled clean and crisp, like a spring breeze as it crossed over a lake. I could see the photograph of the ocean from the Raleigh Region he had given me. It was still in my pocket. I imagined that if I knew what an ocean smelled like, it would be him.

  “But most of the time—” he paused, and his lips hovered over mine. “you feel it,” he whispered before he kissed me.

  He leaned against me or I leaned against him. I wasn’t sure. I could only feel his lips move across mine, light and careful, sweet and sincere. As his hand curled through my hair, my hand tangled into his shirt. His warm chest radiated through my torso, and any breath I had left escaped me. When he pressed his fingers into my lower back, he suddenly pulled away, laying his forehead against mine.

  We both gasped, and his chest moved up and down. I stared at my fingers, white from my grip, and I loosened my hold. He only dropped his hand from my hair once his lips kissed my forehead.

  He stepped away, leaving me cold and breathless, but his green eyes bore into me like he was inches away.

  “Get some sleep, Sophie,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For me.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My throat was tight. My mind was racing.

  Noah – Noah Tomery – had just kissed me. I had just kissed Noah Tomery. It wasn’t my first kiss, but it felt like it was. The kiss filled me.

  When I didn’t move, he chuckled beneath his breath and moved toward me. His arm curled around my waist, and he directed me to the couch. When he sat down, he pulled me down on top of him. He was too close to move away from. “Stay here,” he said, “Just sleep.”

  I moved my head into a nod, but my ear was against his shirt. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. I was pressed between the couch and his chest. For once, the warmth was comforting, but I didn’t think I could sleep. Not now. Not with his heartbeat in my ear. But the sound was soothing, and my eyes closed as it pounded away, soft like thunder rolling across approaching clouds.

  I was surrendering, and I was surrendering to a lot more than sleep.

  Goodbye

  I woke up to singing. The voice floated over my parted lips and entered me with desperation. It tore me from my dreams, only to drop me back in them, tugging just to push me back. I found him between a reality and a nightmare. His humming was a vibration of brutality. When I finally awoke, I was surprised I wasn’t in pieces, laid out in his open arms.

  My eyelids cracked open, and a soft orange light filled the living room. The bright, white carpet was as gorgeous as the falling sunrise must have been right at that moment. Even then, I couldn’t look away. I was too transfixed on the song I had never heard before.

  Show me the sun, expose me to waves, breathe me an ocean

  Far away, further, further, and further away

  Our war is one we cannot begin − but this sun will lead me

  Into the depths of you, into the depths of you

  Until then, my dear, until then, I say—

  Let these trees be my waves of blue

  The comforter fell off of me as I shifted my feet off of the couch. I stood, and the singing stopped. Noah was standing by the fire mantle. He held three purple flowers from the garden outside. Without acknowledging my existence, he laid the flowers next to the family portrait that had once been in his bedroom. It would stay on the mantle from now on.

  His arms collapsed to his side as he looked at the photograph. I imagined his family filling the room as he stared. Liam teased his siblings like any older sibling would do. Rinley would cry about being the youngest. Mrs. Tomery would comfort her with ice cream or music − perhaps she played the piano or the cello. Maybe one of the kids played the instruments. On rare occasions, they all sat around and played together, laughing and hugging and eating dinner. Rinley would be wearing that silly floppy hat. They would have stereotypical conversations about school and work, Mr. Tomery wouldn’t mention tomo, and Noah would be prided over his academic accomplishments.

  My chest sank for them. Noah had to miss them, even when his father ordered him around. He had to remember a naïve moment he must have had at a younger age, probably when he had braces. He might’ve laughed more then. He was probably less defensive, more open to talking, a boy with a real life that had choices and possibilities, hopes and dreams. A boy, not the man he forced himself to try to be.

  It was all gone now − disrupted by a war on drugs. He was gone.

  “My mother planted those flowers ages ago,” Noah commented, turning away from the photo to look at me. The color in his eyes had faded overnight. “Purple periwinkles were her favorite. I was surprised they were still here.”

  I had never heard of the flower before. “Your neighbors might have planted them.” Maybe they were loyal after all.

  “They must have kept the house in order,” he agreed, “before the tunnels were closed.”

  “Then, they closed them recently,” I spoke quietly, trying to mask my groggy, morning voice.

  Noah nodded, either pretending not to notice or actually not noticing at all. He wouldn’t look at me, but his face was lit up in the morning light. For once, bags didn’t hang from his eyes. He had slept.

  He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the painting. “I’m leaving this here.”

  “To let them know you were here?” I asked.

  “To say goodbye.”

  His last word clung to me.

  I stepped back and returned to the couch. As soon as I was close enough, I grabbed
the comforter and began to fold it. Anything to avoid him.

  “We should clean up,” I muttered, forcing a distraction into the conversation.

  Noah’s footsteps stopped me. They were closer than I thought he was, and his hand was wrapped around the blanket before I could turn around. He threw it on the couch, turned to me, grabbed my shoulders, and kissed me again, deeper than the night before. His hand whipped around my waist, and his other hand spread across my sternum.

  “Noah,” I exasperated as I pulled away, only to lean my forehead against his chest. My head bobbed as he breathed heavily. His hand tightened on my lower back, touching my skin.

  “We’re all going to be safe, Sophie,” he said as he laid his chin on my shoulder. “I promise. Broden − you − Lyn − your dad—”

  “You’re leaving.”

  He reached up to hold my shoulders. He leaned me back but lifted my face with a freed hand. “You’ll know the way out of here if anything goes bad.”

  I would not look at him. “Broden’s in jail.”

  “I promise, Sophie.”

  I ducked away from his touch. “I—I don’t know about this.”

  “You know about me.”

  I didn’t respond, my silence speaking for me, and Noah’s throat made a noise I didn’t recognize. He coughed to cover it up. “Miles and Lily are coming to get us,” he murmured, stepping halfway across the room.

  My chest was sinking and rising at the same time, a bobbing ship. “We should go, then.”

  “We should.”

  …

  “So, that’s it, then,” Miles spoke up as his red car rumbled against the morning silence. “We know where Rinley is.”

  My neck hurt as I looked from side to side, searching for the police that would surely jump out and catch us all in the last moment. Nothing happened. No one was here. Anthony hadn’t lied.

  “We need a plan,” Noah’s harsh tone mimicked a snarl, “and we need to go tonight.”

  Miles slammed on the brakes, and the car came to an abrupt halt. Everyone lunged forward, but the seatbelts yanked against our chests. Lily coughed.

  “Tonight?” Miles could barely repeat the word. “We don’t even know for sure that we will be able to find her.”

  “The file said she would be with my uncle,” Noah answered and looked out the window as if we weren’t parked on a side street.

  “You mean, your uncle that got blamed for everything?” Miles pointed out.

  I flinched at the mention of Noah’s uncle − Anthony’s father, a dead man, an executed criminal, someone who no longer existed.

  “She’ll stay close.”

  “So, what?” Lily asked, facing us. Her white hair sprayed around her face in crazy spurts. “Walk up to the house, knock on the door, and ask if Rinley is home?”

  Noah laughed loudly, unable to hold back his reaction. I bit my lip to prevent mine. I didn’t want to scream at him, but I was about to. He wasn’t telling them the truth. Rinley had the recipe memorized. She was our last hope.

  “Come on, Lily,” Noah didn’t use her full name. “My family had a plan. If any of us got left behind, get relocated before relocating yourself in that area.”

  “Great,” Miles grumbled, pressing on the gas again. “So, we don’t even know where she is exactly?” This recovery wasn’t going to go any smoother than our previous ones. “Why couldn’t you guys just have a meeting place?”

  Noah leaned back in his seat. When his arm touched mine, I scooted as far away as I could. He didn’t even flinch. “Hiding in Topeka on your own would get you caught and killed in a heartbeat,” he said instead.

  “Says who?” Miles snapped. “Sounds like another goose chase to me.”

  “Quit it, boys,” Lily interrupted. “We’re too close to fight like this.”

  Miles took a sharp turn, and Noah’s side was digging into mine. I closed my eyes as Miles drove onto a main road. His windows weren’t even tinted. He was doing it on purpose.

  “Miles,” Noah growled his friend’s name. “Get back on the back road.”

  “It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Miles asked, only looking at Noah in the rearview mirror. “Not being in control?”

  Noah’s knuckles turned white as his fingers formed fists. Everything else was still. The suffocating air felt as if it would explode into pieces like the Traveler’s Bureau, waiting to be studied by Phelps himself. My fingers traced up my neck, and I held my heart-shaped necklace. My hand cooled against it, the same temperature of Noah’s touch, moments before kissing me.

  I couldn’t look at him.

  “I need your help, Miles,” Noah spoke up after a moment. “Without Dwayne here, I can’t get on a train.”

  Miles forced a tight laugh. “A train?” he repeated. It was news to all of us, but Miles’ head bobbed up and down like he had been expecting it all along. “Of course you need a train. You needed one then, and you expect me to get you another one now,” he ranted, exposing just how much of a genius he was. Miles Beckett stole a train as a preteen.

  “It didn’t work last time,” he continued, but he didn’t dare to say Liam’s name.

  Noah didn’t either.

  Miles tapped the steering wheel and then, slammed his fist against it. The horn honked as Miles yanked the car toward the nearest back road. He cursed as the main street disappeared behind us. Lily watched me in the rearview mirror, wide-eyed and pale. I had to bet I looked the same to her. This was between the boys.

  Finally, after two blocks of driving, Miles pulled into my driveway. The tires rumbled over the ground with a loud crinkle. Lyn sat in the yard, her dark skin glistening in the sunlight as Falo ran around her, falling every few steps. She waved, and her tattoos stared at me as if to remind me of the portraits in Phelps’ mansion. The Brooklyn Bridge. It was tattooed across her chest. The dictator was everywhere I was, even at home.

  Miles parked, and Lily jumped out the car immediately. She wanted out of the drama as much as I did, but I forced myself to stay.

  “We’ll meet at the crest at twenty after eleven,” Miles said, glancing at the face of his black watch. “Not a minute later or I’m gone.”

  “Thank you,” Noah responded, grabbing onto Miles’ shoulder to shake it as if they were brothers. “I’ll see you then − and only you.” Noah looked over at me, his green eyes piercing. “Understand?”

  My jaw dropped. “Lily and I aren’t coming?”

  “Absolutely not,” Miles concurred with Noah. “We can handle this. You two can consider this whole ordeal over.”

  “But—”

  “No arguing,” Noah said harshly as Miles stepped out of the car. “This is our job, and we aren’t losing any more people.”

  I didn’t speak. I only glared, unable to fight back – yet.

  The two boys jumped out and whispered about the plan, but Lily and I were staying back. She glanced at me as she threaded her arm through mine. “Did they say we weren’t going?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  She huffed. “I don’t know why they think we’d ever listen to them.”

  “Me neither.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Coming this far, being a part of it all, only to be shoved back powerlessly as if we had never helped out at all. I wouldn’t accept it.

  “We’re going,” I said.

  “Of course we are,” Lily agreed. “They couldn’t do it without us.”

  The Code

  Lily tied her long, white hair into a tight knot before lifting the black hood over her head. She straightened out the sleeves and slipped her thumbs through two slits that kept the cloth from falling. Glancing in the mirror one last time, she nodded to herself before meeting my eyes in the reflection. “Ready?”

  The dark fabric she draped over my body felt like an ironic cape or burnt angel wings. She was as thin as a knife blade, but I wasn’t. I could barely breathe in her attire, and all I could think about was how humid the fall air would feel once we began to walk. Even th
en, I stared at myself in the mirror.

  “I like it,” I said.

  “I know.” Lily wiggled as if she was about to win another student achievement badge.

  We stood in her bright pink bedroom with clothes from Lily’s closet littering the floor. Considering we wore uniforms, her wardrobe was gigantic and completely unnecessary. Even then, she barely owned black. I was pretty sure that the sweaters we wore were the only black sweaters she had.

  “Those boys are going to die when we catch up to them,” she said after spinning around in a tight circle. She checked out every inch of herself as if we were meeting her crush – but we were meeting her brother. “I look good in black.”

  Our mission was officially a fashion show.

  When I had told her about the boys, she remained calm until they raided my father’s forgery. As they were preparing to leave, Lily told them I was sleeping over at the Beckett’s house – because she was too worried to be alone, of course – and the boys accepted it without question. In their minds, there was no way we would leave the house under Ms. Beckett’s protective eye. Little did they expect, Lily had a plan. She always had a plan. Just like Noah. The two probably clashed because they were so alike.

  “I still don’t see how we’re going to find them,” I grumbled, wiggling around in my tight pants.

  “Their watches,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes just thinking about the jewelry. “What about the watches?”

  “They’re synchronized.”

  “I figured that part out.”

  “But I know the code,” she said, spreading her fingers out as she counted. “If they said eleven twenty, they really mean nine o’clock.”

  My eyebrows rose. “You know the time?”

  “Please,” she started, “All I did was spy on those boys when we were little. I even know the markings.”

  “The markings?”

  Lily tilted her head, and her white bangs escaped her hood. “The ravens. The sun. The trees. The bridge. The rocks. The crest,” she repeated location codes I had heard from every one of the boys, places where they met up secretly under the cover of the night sky. “Which one did they use?”