by S. A. Beck
“Jaxon!” Loren called out when she made it to the gym. Otto looked up from the weight bench and smiled.
“Hey,” Jax said shyly.
“Get over here,” Loren said. “We thought you weren’t going to make it down this evening. Glad you finally made an appearance. Want to throw some punches with me?”
Jaxon spent the rest of the evening slap boxing with Loren, an event that once again drew a crowd and forced Jax to hold back her true strength. It was fun to get rough and physical, to play-fight with someone who wasn’t really trying to hurt her. As she bounced around the room, boxing and avoiding getting hit, she found herself getting more relaxed with the basement regulars, but Jaxon couldn’t keep her eyes off Otto.
“You’re a fast learner. You’re getting better already,” he said after the match. “Let’s get you hydrated. You’re sweating like crazy.”
Jaxon blushed when she realized he was right. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and grinned, waving away her concerns, but Jaxon stared down self-consciously. Her denim shirt was drenched, and her hair was all over her head, the wavy hair curling and frizzing in the humidity. She hadn’t paid attention to any of that while she was working out with Loren, but she was starkly aware of it with him. Otto beckoned, and Jax nervously followed him up the stairs.
“Don’t worry about how you look. You look amazing to me.” The way he said the words made the hairs along the nape of her neck stand at attention. Jaxon smiled, flattered but skeptical.
“Really?” she asked.
They exited the basement and crossed the foyer to the dining hall. He smiled and handed her a water bottle from the buffet table, then he led her out to the side patio. They sat together with Jaxon fighting the butterflies that threatened to steal her breath. Otto looked introspective and stayed mute, gazing at the horizon. She studied him.
Otto pointed at the faint first sprinkling of stars. “You ever wonder what’s up there?” Jaxon looked up and saw a crescent moon in the evening sky. She shrugged. What was to wonder? There was enough going on in her life down there. Otto gave a disparaging laugh and shook his head ruefully. “It’s funny, but I used to think there were other life forms in the universe just waiting for humans to get their crap together so they could beam us up… I don’t think they’ll ever do it. We got a lot of hang-ups.”
Jaxon shrugged again, staring at his handsome face. “I never really gave it much thought. When I was a kid, I was too busy trying to protect myself from malicious foster parents and messed-up living arrangements. That’s the stuff you ponder when you don’t have to worry about real life.” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the memories were hard to shake. She was glad she would soon be out of the system. Jaxon heaved a gusty sigh and dropped her gaze. When she looked up, she caught Otto staring at her. “What?” she asked.
“What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders. “Maybe they got beamed up. Maybe they had all their crap together, and they didn’t need me to muck up their travel arrangements. I don’t know.”
She smiled to take the sting out of her words. Otto reached across the back of the bench where they sat and pulled her closer. Jaxon stiffened, not used to comfort. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her down on his shoulder, resting his cheek against her hair. “I hope your future makes your past tremble, Jaxon Andersen,” he whispered. “I hope you live such a beautiful life that it makes up for everything that came before.”
The expression was such a delicate wish that Jaxon felt rare tears sting her eyes, and she quickly dashed them away. “That’s sweet,” she whispered. They sat in companionable silence for the rest of the hour allotted to extracurriculars. When it was time for students to come in at five thirty and get ready for dinner and bed, he released her and walked her to her room. His fingers, which were wrapped around hers, felt warm and natural. She knew there were other residents filing past, but she didn’t pay them any mind. She didn’t want whatever was happening between her and Otto to end.
“Well… thank you,” Jaxon said nervously as she fondled the doorknob to her room. “Thank you for all you’re doing to make my experience here wonderful. You’re a nice guy.”
“Not always. I like you,” he confessed, grinning. “I’m sure that has something to do with it.”
Jax giggled, suddenly looking at her feet. She inhaled deeply and gazed up into his eyes. “I like you, too.”
“I think I might like you more than I like fires…” The eye contact intensified by several degrees. Jaxon felt dizzy under his spell. “See you at dinner. Will you sit with me?” She nodded. When he turned around and walked off down the hall to the boys’ half of the house, he left her staring after him with her mouth slightly agape.
Jaxon opened the door and entered her room, her heart hammering. “Did he just say what I think he said?” she whispered to herself. She pushed away from the door to hurry to her closet to find something to wear to the dining hall. She was so wrapped up in romance that she had completely forgotten what had happened before, what had happened in the greenhouse. Her magic.
* * *
APRIL 16, 2016, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
9:25 PM
Anthony Hollis moved the cursor back to the start of the video clip. He played it again on double speed. In the clip, Jaxon entered the greenhouse. The supplies were on the table. The pots were empty. Before Jaxon exited the greenhouse, she hid the pots.
It was the director’s suggestion to monitor the girl. After all, she was having unsupervised time alone in the garden. She could be out there growing God knew what. She could be sneaking out there to smoke cigarettes or hook up with boys or any clandestine thing that was against the group home’s policy. Anthony didn’t believe she would do anything amiss, but he had to follow the director’s request and keep an eye on her, namely because if anything happened to Jaxon, Forever Welcome would be held liable.
It was Saturday night, and technically Anthony was off work. He had intended to take a quick glance at the surveillance video and get to bed. But something about the video from Wednesday—Jaxon’s first and only day alone in the greenhouse since she had started gardening as her extracurricular—wasn’t adding up.
He played the video again, slower, slower. He watched her plant the seeds. Anthony squinted his eyes to study the image closer. Then, his eyes widened as he caught a glimpse over Jaxon’s shoulder of the plants that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He shook his head in disbelief. “What the heck was that? What was she doing out there?” There was no way she should have had plants growing.
“I need to see this for myself,” he mumbled.
Anthony put on his shoes and exited his apartment on the third floor. He went down the back staircase that led from his corner of the house to the backyard, and he loped across the green grass to the secret garden. He ran out to the greenhouse, determined to see with his own eyes what Jaxon had planted. The rapid growth on the video had to be a trick of the light. He knew Jax had requested herbs, noting that they were quick and easy to grow, but herbs didn’t grow that fast.
Anthony powered on the lights and went directly to her hiding spot, having watched her on the video as she placed the pots beneath a shelf. When he pulled out the three small earthen pots, his heart skipped a beat. They were overflowing with fully grown plants, exactly as the video taken three days prior had shown, which was downright impossible. The pots should have been filled with rich, fertile potting soil, possibly a tiny sprout or two, but there was no imagining the leafy, fragrant lavender and spicy sweet marjoram. They were there.
What he had seen on the video had been real, not a trick of the light or sleight of hand. Anthony shook his head. “That can’t be. That’s not how it works. How on earth did she pull this off?” He struggled to get his cell phone out of his pocket. “Brady? Hello, dear friend. Listen, I need to send you a video, and I need you to tell me what you see when you look at it. Tell me I’m not losing my
mind.”
“What is it, Anthony? I’m in the middle of dinner. This better not be any of that Emoto nonsense.”
“S-stranger than that, actually,” Anthony stammered. “The girl I told you about, remember her? Jaxon? Well, I think… I think she’s got even more special capabilities than… humanly possible? I-I’m not really sure how to explain. You’ll just have to check the email, friend. As soon as possible, please!”
“Of course, of course, I will. As soon as I leave the restaurant, I’ll check it. Now, get some sleep. It’s rather late, and you sound like you need it.”
Anthony Hollis hung up his phone with shaking hands and placed the potted plants back in their hiding place. He hurried back to his room to compile the message to send Brady. How could he explain it? How was he to put into words that the girl with the genius IQ could make plants sprout out of thin air? There had to be a reasonable explanation.
Anthony sat back on his bed and contemplated the facts. He couldn’t run with the fanciful. He had to think logically. Jaxon must have secretly concocted some type of cell growth serum that resulted in the rapid maturation of plant cells. That had to be it. She was smart enough to do it, but even if that were the case, Anthony was equally stunned at the implications of such a scientific discovery. She was only sixteen. “She’s a walking marvel,” he said, a slow grin spilling across his bearded face. “She could probably get into any college in the country with something like this.”
He laughed, his head full of ideas on how to get her further in life. He had never had a more brilliant student, and Anthony intended to use every resource at his disposal to ensure Jaxon didn’t sleep on her gifts. He needed to call her into his office and have that chat again about her future. But first, he would email Brady with the evidence to make sure he wasn’t just imagining things. Anthony knew his colleague thought he was a little loopy sometimes, but there would be no refuting what was on that video.
As he hurriedly composed the email, he wondered if maybe the news should be relayed in person rather than over the Internet. Anyone could gain access to an email if the recipient was unwary. Hell, Brady might even take a notion to forward it to someone. Anthony had to act with caution. He could trust Brady, but he would have to insist his friend keep the matter strictly confidential. “For your eyes only,” Anthony read aloud as he typed. The last thing Anthony needed was some fertilizer company or research team trying to capitalize on Jaxon’s hard work.
He didn’t realize that—thanks to his method of communication—with or without Brady willfully sharing the details of the message, someone else was keeping a close watch on Jaxon Andersen, too. Someone with less than positive motivations.
* * *
APRIL 16, 2016, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
11:25 PM
Light tapping at her door woke Jaxon from a sound sleep, and she rolled over in bed to investigate the source of the noise. It was rare to be awakened in the night at Forever Welcome. She had a brief mental image of Otto and threw off her covers, reaching for a robe to see if it could be him, but it wasn’t. Jax leaned out the door and peered up and down the hall. No one was there, but something was on the floor. Written in scarlet-red lipstick and in tiny letters was a hateful poem—if it could be called that. Jax planted her hands on her hips and smacked her lips as she read the tasteless drivel.
Jaxon Andersen is diseased
She sleeps with every guy she please
Although she thinks she’s hot to trot
She’s really, really not
The longer she stared at the words, the more Jaxon felt her blood boil. She knew who had written them. Only Lizzie would be trashy enough to mark up the hardwood floor with a vile shade of red lipstick. Jax swallowed a scream. “This has got to stop!”
She marched into her bathroom and dug out a terry cloth towel and bar of soap, the only cleaning supplies lying around. She couldn’t let everyone get up in the morning and see what Lizzie had written. She wouldn’t give the girl the pleasure of getting that much attention. Jax got down on her hands and knees and started to scrub the floor. Her arms burned with the exertion and the strain of holding her anger in check.
She scrubbed in swirly circles until the soap suds were pink from the lipstick. Jaxon went back in her room to wash the towel and then go over the floor again. She bit her lip to keep from crying. She still hadn’t gotten Dr. Hollis involved because she wanted to fend for herself, but things were getting out of hand. Lizzie had vandalized school property. Who was to say someone wouldn’t notice some residual marking and think Jaxon had done it? It was right outside her door.
Over and over, she replayed visions of getting back at Lizzie, each creative idea more gruesome than the last. She wanted to smear her face with lipstick. She wanted to tear out her hair. Jax trembled with rage. When she was finished cleaning the floor as well as possible, she tiptoed down the stairs.
Jaxon crept to the basement to let off steam. There was no way she could go back to sleep after what had happened. The lights were off, and the exercise equipment was powered down. The basement was an eerie place after hours, without the other residents to add life and laughter. She hit the lights, and she ambled to her favorite part of the gym. She picked up the boxing gloves hanging from a hook next to the punching bag.
Jax slid them onto her fists. She could finally unleash her full potential. She didn’t notice the security camera slowly swivel to watch her as she started to throw jabs. At first, she gave the heavy bag a few light taps, warming up, blow after blow barely shifting it. As she considered all the things Lizzie had done to her since her arrival, Jaxon begin to hit harder.
“Think you can mess with me and get away with it? Unh!” Jaxon’s punch powered into the faded leather with a loud thwack. She hit it again. “Think just because you’re bigger than me, you’re better than me?” The punishing attacks caused the punching bag to jostle on its chain, sway, and shiver with the hits. She punched again. “You don’t know who you’re playing with, girl!” Jaxon spun around and kicked with all her might. Her shin connected with the bag, and the cement-weighted leather cylinder flew off its hook.
“Dang it!” Jax reached for it before it hit the floor, but it slipped out of her grasp.
The punching bag smashed into the wall with an explosive thump. Jaxon jumped, looking up at the basement ceiling and listening for approaching footsteps. She ran to the punching bag and hefted it up in her hands. She handled the hundred-pound bundle as easily as a light backpack. She slung it on her shoulder and was about to take it back over to the hook, hoping no one upstairs had heard the noise.
That was when she saw him. Otto stood at the foot of the stairs watching her with eyes round as saucers. He had a white-knuckle grip on the handrail. His pulse was visibly heightened, a throbbing vein at his temple. He looked as if it was taking everything in him not to bolt back up the stairs and get away from her.
“I was—I was—” Jaxon struggled to find an explanation for what Otto had seen. The bag rolled down from her shoulder and hit the floor with a loud thud.
Otto cautiously stepped down onto the black foam. He eased closer but not close enough for her to reach for him. He looked as if he didn’t trust her not to put a whipping on him as she had the punching bag. Otto warily asked, “How did you do that?”
“I, um…” Jaxon’s face crumpled. Why had he snuck up on her? She didn’t know what to say, and she liked him too much to think of him not liking her back, but there was no way anyone could witness what he had and see her as anything but a freak. She threw her slender brown hand to her forehead and blew out an exasperated breath. “Look, don’t tell anybody about what you think you just saw, all right?” She toughened up. The least he could do was give her the dignity of keeping her secret, even if he cut her out of his romantic picture.
“Do it again,” he ordered.
Jaxon looked up.
“Hit it again. I want to see what you can really do.”
“Why?” she sai
d forcefully. “So you can look at me like I’m some kind of circus attraction? Get real, Otto. Just forget you ever saw anything.” She hardened her voice and balled her fists. If she wanted to, she could really hurt him. She would never do that, but maybe if she made Otto believe she was a threat, he would keep his mouth shut.
At the sight of her tiny, trembling frame and her eyes glistening with tears, Otto walked closer, unafraid. “Stop it. I’m not gonna tell anyone, Jaxon.” He reached out for her hand, pulled off the boxing glove, and examined her knuckles. They weren’t even bruised. He looked at the punching bag and back at the slight girl who barely topped out at his chin height. “Show me again what you can do,” he coaxed. He wanted to know everything about her. She had him completely captivated.
Jaxon warily accepted the glove and put it back on. “If I show you this, you have to swear to me that this stays in this basement. You can’t breathe a word about this to anyone. Do you understand me? People can’t know that I’m a…”
“What?” he asked softly.
“A freak.”
He chucked up her chin and looked in her sparkling, ice chip–blue eyes. “Babe, from what I just saw, you’re not a freak… you’re the eighth world wonder.”
He tapped her fists and pointed her to the punching bag. She picked it up and mounted it back on its chain. Jaxon swallowed her fear. He was watching. She wanted to make a good impression. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. As her shoulder blades widened and she put up her fists, time slowed to a crawl for the girl who wasn’t anything like other girls. The white T-shirt and pixie-print lavender pajama pants swooshed forward in an elegant blur as her long, rangy arms shot out one after the other, fists connecting with the black leather with biting force.
