Perfect Pitch

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Perfect Pitch Page 15

by Alex Hayes


  Idris draws me out of the way of a customer eyeing the shelves behind us. “Dad’s got plenty of contacts. Heard him mention a lawyer friend, if Dean wants to go that route. He talked about the burden of proof, but the hardest part is breaking out of the cycle of abuse, finding the courage to do something about it.”

  I press into his side as a lady with a stroller pushes past. “You sound like an expert.”

  He smirks. “Remember all those speech competitions I entered? The topics were mostly about people who’d made it out of those kinds of relationships and survived. But for every success, there’s like a hundred failures. Tough odds.”

  I consider this. What I do know about Dean is that he’s determined and persistent. “Dean could be that one in a hundred,” I say with confidence.

  “Glad to hear it,” Idris responds, his tone bordering on icy.

  I nudge him, rolling my eyes. “And so are you. Stop being paranoid.”

  “Yes, dear.” He grabs the half-empty box of books and stalks toward the stockroom.

  For crying out loud. “Idris?” I follow him. “I wasn’t comparing you.”

  “Uh-huh,” is all the answer I get.

  Once everything’s cleaned up, we head out to his car. He catches the gleam off my ring as he opens the passenger side door. “You’re wearing it.” He strokes my hand, then leans in for a kiss.

  “And I still have the repercussions to look forward to,” I comment, clicking my belt as he slides into the driver’s seat. “Shri almost fell over when she saw it.”

  Idris chuckles. “Then we’d better corner your parents as soon as we get to your place.”

  I smile through the windshield. Mama and Papa will be happy about our engagement.

  I imagine a small ceremony on the back lawn with our parents, Mr. Scrim and a few select friends in attendance. I’m wearing a cream-colored wedding dress. Something simple and elegant that goes well with both human and Livran skin. Soft music and pure happiness surround us.

  “So,” Idris says, interrupting my fantasy. “What’re we doing about Dean and whatever he saw last night?”

  Yeah, that. I sigh inwardly. “What can we do?”

  “Tell him the truth.”

  My lips part. “Everything?”

  Idris presses the ignition and turns up the air. “Yeah.” He’s not kidding either, but his suggestion is insane.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” he counters.

  “Um, because Dean squealed about my telekinesis. Why would you want to trust him with the truth?”

  “Because he already saw you, Cadi. What else do you want to do? Let him think he’s crazy?” He gives me a hard look. “Seems to me he’s got enough crap going on in his life. Besides, who’d believe him if he said anything? The press would laugh him right out of town.”

  He has a point, but I sense an ulterior motive humming off him, and frown. Why would Idris want Dean to know I’m a lizard-skinned alien?

  His eyes light with determination as they study me, with a challenge.

  Oh, I get it. If Dean learns I’m from another planet, any interest or ideas he might have about me would go flying out the window. Which, on reflection, wouldn’t be a bad thing, except that he’d know a dangerous secret that could cost me everything. How can Idris not see that?

  Hurt and anger simmer inside me.

  Idris senses it, too. I can feel it from his crystal and see it in his face.

  “You’d seriously have me take that risk? Just to get rid of your competition?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Cadi. Jesus, that’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then what are you saying, Idris?” I’m so furious, I can’t hold back my tears.

  He sighs. “Cadi, love, calm down. You know, I’m beginning to think I understand your friend, Dean, better than you do.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I demand, my voice taking on this annoying quiver.

  “That I think you can trust him with the truth.” His hand drops over mine. “We have to trust some people. We won’t survive on this planet if we don’t. Dad, Marek, the Jacobsens. They’re all good people. Shri and Dean care about you, and I think they’re allies you need.”

  I need? Is he serious?

  He is. I can sense it. And he’s telling the truth, but I don’t get it. How could he possibly want Dean to know what I am, other than to make him turn around and walk away.

  Idris holds my gaze. “You said Dean was one in a hundred.”

  I hate it when people use my words against me. Especially, Idris.

  He tilts his head. “If you’re right. If you truly believe that, then we need him in our court.”

  He’s mad. Idris has finally lost it.

  “I’m not crazy,” he says, reading my mind, with the help of those damned crystals.

  “You sure sound it.”

  He lets out a soft growl. “He already saw your face, Cadi. He already knows. Put yourself in his position.”

  “Okay, I’d think I was seeing things, a trick of the moonlight, that’s all.”

  “Seriously?” He shakes his head. “He’s got enough stress in his life, the last thing he needs is to think he’s going crazy as well.”

  I bunch my fists. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell him.” And when he implodes, it’ll be your fault!

  26

  Dean

  “So has Brandon Williams got you on the right track?”

  Shri’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.

  I glance at her, where she sits beside me in the car, and nod. “I need to go through a list of questions and figure out where things stand with Mom.” I check the rearview mirror to make sure Ty’s not paying any attention. His earbuds are in and his head bounces to music. “Whether we can work through our issues as a family or not.”

  “And what about your dad?”

  “I’ve already written him off, which means nothing can be fixed with Mom unless he’s out of the picture.” I reflect on Brandon’s instructions. “There are a couple of chapters I need to read. Brandon said the assessment was straight forward, but I could call him with questions.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “Yeah, well, he said a friend of Cadi’s was a friend of his.” I laugh, sourly. “A friend of Cadi’s…” That friendship is stretching thinner with each passing day.

  Why did I ever think I could fix things between us?

  My thoughts roll back to this morning. Cadi and the lizard mask. Was it real or did I imagine the whole thing?

  I glance at Shri, so glad I have her to talk to about this drama. “I seriously think I’m losing it.”

  She cups her hands over her knees. “Losing it in what way?”

  “Imagining things.”

  “Does this have something to do with hurting your back?”

  “Something woke me last night. And like an idiot, I went to investigate.”

  She frowns. “Not sleepwalking then?”

  That was this morning’s story. “I saw someone. Figured it was Cadi…”

  Shri plops her head against her seat. “You really are obsessed with her.”

  Am I? “Obsessed with finding out what she’s hiding.”

  Shri lets out a tired sigh. “Maybe she isn’t hiding anything, Dean.”

  I cut her a sharp look and continue with my story. “So I followed this person through the woods. She led me to a cliffside, where she used telekinesis to move a massive rock away from a cave entrance.”

  “Massive, as in…?”

  “About the size of an elephant, and it just rolled to one side.”

  Her gaze grows more intense. “Then it had to be Cadi.”

  “Yeah. See?” Why did I ever doubt myself? “Then she went inside the cave, and I moved closer.” A breath shudders out of me. “I reached the entrance, and something came out.”

  Shri’s eyes grow round. “Something?”

  “God, Shri. You’re not going to believe this.” I swing my eyes to the road, then g
lance back again.

  Her lips are pursed, an eyebrow lifted. “Try me.”

  “The moon was bright.” I’m convincing myself now. “This person, same size as Cadi, steps out of the opening in front of me. And her face…” I swipe a hand across my eyes, like I could wipe that image away. “Dark gray or green. Hard to tell because it was still dark, but definitely the face of a lizard.”

  Shri slaps a hand over her mouth and belly laughs so hard tears roll down her cheeks. “Had to be a mask. She was getting back at you for following her.”

  I frown. “Yeah, well, the shock made me stumble, and I fell down the slope. That’s how I messed up my back. And she didn’t help; she ran away.”

  “Cadi wouldn’t do that,” Shri insists. “Not unless you’d freaked her out or she didn’t realize it was you.”

  “But that’s not all,” I add.

  Her eyes are pinned to my face when I glance her way.

  “As I headed after her, my back killing me…” Just thinking about how much I was hurting during that hike makes me cringe. “I heard a wolf howl.”

  “Holy shit, Dean, this sounds like a scene out of a horror movie.”

  I give her a long look. “You should’ve been there.”

  She shudders. “No, thanks.”

  “The howl turned into a growl, and I seriously thought I was done for.” I swallow. “Then she said my name. I know it was Cadi. She said my name. Then I blacked out. And when I woke up, I was lying on the back porch. I thought it was a dream. Or a nightmare more like. But my back was killing me, and there were pine needles stuck in my shoes.”

  The horror on Shri’s face sends a cold wind whistling through my larynx.

  “You’ve got to talk to her, Dean. For your own sanity, you need to find out what really happened.”

  “Yeah, like that’s gonna be easy.”

  My phone vibrates on the dash. An incoming call. A quick glance and my shoulders stoop. Mom. Consequences, she’d said. I really don’t want to know what she was talking about.

  27

  Cadi

  “Dean’s going crazy,” Shri murmurs, as we stand side by side cutting vegetables at the kitchen counter.

  Did he tell her about our adventure in the woods? Well, why wouldn’t he? Other than to avoid sounding like he was stark raving mad.

  I focus on chopping celery into neat squares. “His back must really hurt.”

  She lifts an eyebrow, gaze pointed. “You need to talk to him, Cadi.”

  I grab another celery stalk without glancing up. “Idris knows this amazing massage technique.” With his ability to control sound, he can perform deep tissue ultrasonic manipulation. But maybe Dean would think that was weird. I mean, a guy massaging another guy.

  Shri looks across the room at Ty, who’s helping Mama make lemonade. “If anyone’s going to massage Dean’s back,” she whispers, “it’ll be me.”

  Whoa. She couldn’t be much clearer than that.

  “So there is something going on between you two,” I whisper back.

  Shri sweeps a stack of sliced onions onto a plate. “Not while he’s obsessing over you.” She settles her hands on the counter. “Why can’t you just come clean with him?”

  I huff. “It’s got to be obvious by now that Idris and I are—”

  “Engaged?” Spying an unscathed onion, she sets about chopping it into molecular-sized pieces. “Yeah, and that’s something girls usually share with their girlfriends.”

  “Sorry. He popped the question on my birthday, and… it was unexpected.”

  “But you accepted. You’ve only known him six months. Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of commitment?”

  I can’t explain—not yet anyway—that I’ve known Idris all my life, that we’ve been promised to one another since we were babies, and that we’re psychically connected via the twin crystals embedded in our chests.

  “Yes, I’m ready. And I understand your concern. But, I guess I’m gonna have to deal with Dean before I can go there.”

  “Hallelujah!” She glances over her shoulder and drops her voice back to a whisper. “Please do because whatever he saw… Well, he saw it. There’s no point in keeping it secret any longer.”

  I could argue that. “You and Idris must have talked. You’re like two jaws on a vice.”

  She smirks. “Then consider yourself officially squeezed.”

  I can’t quite hold back my chuckle.

  “Cadi,” Mama calls on her way to the pantry, “there’s chili in the fridge. Would you put it on to heat?”

  “Sure.” I find the container.

  Shri pauses her tomato slicing to let me dig in the low cabinet in front of her for a pan. I set it on the stove, dump the chili and return to chopping potatoes for salad.

  Mama shuffles across the kitchen. “Now where did I put the salt?”

  “Over here,” I answer, sprinkling a measure over my chopped potatoes before handing her the shaker.

  Shri turns and sees Mama adding salt to a jug of water. “Salt in lemonade?”

  Mama grins. “Balances the sugar. Ty, how are those lemons coming?”

  Ty groans as he presses another lemon half into the manual juicer. “I’m almost done.” He looks down at the floor. “It’s getting kind of sticky around here though.”

  Shri waves a hand. “I’ll get a cloth.” She steps back as Mama passes with her jug. “Oh!”

  There’s a crash as the pan of chili hits the floor.

  “Oh, my!” Mama gasps.

  “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” Shri cries as she drops to the floor and frantically scoops the spilled food with her hands.

  I stare, opened-mouthed, then scan the kitchen for a towel.

  “Oh, Shri, be careful. It might be hot.” Mama offers a spoon, but Shri’s obsessively gathering vegetables and sauce into her palms.

  “Use this dishrag,” I say, crouching beside her. “Shri?” I nudge her.

  She looks up with tears in her eyes.

  “Oh, god. Was it hot?” I grab her wrists.

  Her hands are covered in red chili sauce. She stares at them like they’re not her own.

  That’s when I realize the spilled food isn’t what’s upset her. “Shri. What’s wrong?”

  She shakes her head and sniffs. “I’m okay. It wasn’t hot.”

  Idris strides into the kitchen and stops short. “Hey. What happened?”

  “The chili pan fell. She’s fine.” I draw Shri to her feet. “Wash your hands. I’ll clean up the rest.”

  She nods and moves to the sink.

  Idris tugs a roll of paper towels off the counter. “Here, babe.”

  Thanking him, I tear off a few sheets to wipe the floor.

  Mama puts her arm around Shri. “Are you all right, dear?”

  Water floods over her hands. “I’m fine.” She grabs the gardener’s soap off the ledge. “The chili was cold in the middle. It’s just the sauce making them red.”

  “Too many cooks.” Mama tuts.

  “Ty needed a cloth,” Shri mumbles into the sink.

  “I’m good,” Ty responds, taking the paper towel roll from Idris.

  “Sure you’re okay?” I ask, butting up against Shri to wash my hands.

  She bites her lip and takes a shaky breath. “Yeah. Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

  Shri’s not one to get flustered, so her reaction to the fallen pan seems odd. I meet Idris’s gaze over her shoulder. Seems he agrees.

  28

  Dean

  Leaning against the back porch railing, I stare at Mom’s latest message. You better be back tonight or else.

  She never had much creativity when it came to threats. Especially when drunk. She relies on that look, which doesn’t come across so well via text.

  No, what’s scary is the uncertainty. If she’d said or else meant this or that, then it would be a known quantity. Manageable. Not a mystery.

  I’ve always hated mysteries.

  The back door sli
des open. I look up from my phone as Pepper erupts from the house, followed by Ty.

  I pocket the device. “Hey, Tiger. Whatcha been doing?”

  “Making lemonade till the kitchen got too crowded. Shri knocked the chili off the stove and went kinda crazy.”

  I straighten, ignoring the nasty twinge in my back. Imagining Shri going crazy is near impossible; she’s the most level-headed person I know. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah. And the mess is cleaned up now.” Ty looks around. “You seen the baseball and mitts?”

  “In that basket by the side door.”

  “Oh, right. Wanna throw?”

  I wrinkle my brow. “Not sure I can, Tiger. My back’s not feeling so great.”

  “Okay.” He heads inside.

  When he returns, Idris is right behind him.

  “Let’s go over there.” Ty flashes me a grin. “Idris said he’d throw for me.”

  I force a smile and nod. “Great.”

  Idris gives me a doubtful look. “Don’t be so sure. There’s good reason I never made sports.”

  His admission pulls a genuine smile out of me. It’s kind of nice to know Cadi’s super confident, BMW-driving, musically gifted, son-of-Brandon-Williams boyfriend isn’t perfect in every single way.

  Done out of my precise pitches, Ty gets more exercise, running after Idris’s less than perfect throws, and I get a few laughs at his expense.

  I also get a rare moment to observe my brother interacting with other people, and realize just how much he’s changed. Since we got here, he’s grown like a sprout given sunshine and fresh water.

  Shri slips out the open back door, carrying a tray with glasses. “Wow. Have you been relieved of duty, or what?”

  I drop my gaze to the ground dramatically. “Even thinking about throwing that ball makes me cringe.”

  “Hmm. You’ll have to show me where it hurts later.”

  Later? I blink. “Is that a promise?”

  She laughs. “Here, take a glass of lemonade. Lighten my load.”

  I do. The drink tastes tart and sweet. “Wow! This is great.”

  “You can compliment your brother. He did the messy work. In the meantime, I’d better deliver these.”

 

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