Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (38 page)

“I’d hardly say we’ll be meandering around South America,” he said. “It’s just one country.” Off in the distance, headlights shined as a car approached. Jameson pulled at my sleeve and led me off the sidewalk into a thicket of bushes. We crouched down to make ourselves invisible from the street. He whispered, “Even if you’re not on the trip you can astral project, right? And spy on them from home?”

He had his arm around my back now, which made me uncomfortable. I asked, “How do you know about my astral projecting?”

“I just know,” he said, answering without really answering. “And I know Mallory doesn’t like it when you visit her that way, but Lover Boy Russ strings you along.”

I stood up and shook him off. The car had passed and the street was quiet now. A little too quiet. I wished I were home already. “What’s your point here, Jameson? Are you trying to make me feel bad?” I walked fast and furiously ahead of him, but he had those damn long legs and he was at my side in an instant.

“If anyone should feel bad, it should be me,” he said. “Why did you tell them and not me? And why didn’t you astral project to me? I thought we got along, Nadia. I thought we were friends.”

I didn’t say anything, just kept walking. It was true that I hadn’t told him about astral projecting, but not because I didn’t want him to know, really. He just had this snarky way of putting down other people’s accomplishments and I didn’t want to hear it. He could make objects move with his mind but I could travel anywhere invisibly, which was the coolest thing ever. Jameson would make it sound stupid though. I knew that much.

He didn’t know this, but I actually had once astral projected to him. I hadn’t made myself known though, so he wasn’t aware of my presence. This happened right after I’d discovered I could leave my body and travel anywhere I wanted to. Late one evening, I floated out of my bedroom, and traveled across town to his house. Jameson and his family lived in the rich section of town. I’d seen the exterior of his house when I did a search of his address online, but I’d never been inside. The outside reminded me of Scarlett O’Hara’s place in
Gone with the Wind
. White pillars stood on either side of a massive front door. Stone lions graced either side of the porch. The lawn was impeccable; the bushes sculpted. I’d expected the inside to match the outside, but instead I found his house to be cluttered and messy. And loud. Even though it was eleven o’clock at night, Jameson’s three younger brothers were still awake. One who looked to be about twelve was working on a science project on the kitchen table, some kind of contraption made out of pulleys and springs. The other two, close in age, but much younger (maybe six and seven?), chased each other around and around in a dizzying circle. They screamed and yelled and skidded on the polished hardwood floors. Meanwhile, Jameson’s mother, wine glass in hand, yelled at them to knock it off and go to bed already. It was chaotic.

All three of Jameson’s brothers looked exactly like him: pale skin, white-blond hair, tall and lanky. In a movie, they could have played Jameson at different ages. I froze looking at them, trying to reconcile this household with Jameson’s cool, intelligent demeanor. The kitchen sink was piled with dirty dishes; socks and other articles of clothing were draped over the furniture. Toys were strewn everywhere. My mother never would have stood for such mess and commotion. For once I appreciated the peacefulness of my own house. As the two younger boys came around again, their stocking feet sliding on the turns, Jameson’s mother put her wine glass down and swatted them as they went by. “I’ve had it,” she screamed, her face contorting in anger. “I mean it! That’s enough.” The boys didn’t even look her way.

Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I went upstairs and searched until I found Jameson in his bathroom, flexing his muscles in front of the mirror. He wore boxer briefs and nothing else. His arms and chest were more muscular than I would have guessed, like he lifted weights. I watched as he mouthed words I couldn’t make out and admired his own reflection. When he pulled the elastic on his waistband and stuck his hand down to cup a bulge I hadn’t noticed at first, I knew enough to go. Some things you just don’t want to see because they will be embedded in your brain forever. I never visited Jameson again.

Jameson tried again. “Aren’t we friends, Nadia?”

“Sure, we’re friends.” I just wanted to shake him off now, to walk home and go to bed. He was trying to manipulate me into doing something I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to spy on the Praetorian Guard. I didn’t even care about the Praetorian Guard, or The Associates for that matter. I didn’t have enough emotion to worry about the world. I only had enough emotion to worry about me and my needs. Simple needs, really. All I wanted was to talk to Russ in private and see if he’d cure my scars. And then I wanted to go on the trip to Peru and spend time alone with him. If only my face wasn’t so messed up, and I didn’t have to worry about how I came off, I knew I’d be a different person. I could be the true me. I’d lose the awkwardness and be able to say what I felt, instead of holding back. I could imagine Russ losing interest in Mallory and falling madly in love with me, the real me. We would become as connected physically as we were spiritually. I longed to feel his lips on mine and his hands running over my—

Jameson grabbed my shoulders and stopped me in my tracks. “So why didn’t you tell me about it then? Why was I the only one who didn’t know you could astral project? Why tell Mallory and Russ but not me?”

He made me feel like a kid who was in trouble. “I don’t know,” I said, exhaling heavily. “I wasn’t trying to exclude you. It’s just that sometimes you can be….” The words hung in the air, the silence looming.

“Be what?”

“Never mind.”

“No, just say it. What can I be?”

“You can be kind of a jerk, Jameson.” The words shot out of my mouth. “You’re mean, that’s what you are. A mean person. You make fun of me in your clever way. It’s all sort of underhanded, but it’s always there. I just didn’t want to deal with your snarky comments.”

His face fell. “I’m not mean. Why would you say I’m mean?”

What? “You don’t think your comments are kind of cutting and mean-spirited?”

“Not really. I know I kid around sometimes…”

“Okay, have it your way. You’re not mean. I just want to go home, Jameson, could you let me go?” I pulled away and turned.

“No, no, I want to know what you’re talking about. When have I been mean to you?”

I got the sense he didn’t have a clue. Was it really possible he’d been going through life being a know-it-all snide jerk and he had no idea? I whirled around. “Okay, you want to know. I’ll give you an example. What is it that you call me sometimes?”

“Nadia?”

I gave him a steely look. “Guess again. What do you call me when you think I can’t hear you?”

“The Grim Reaper?”

“Right. The Grim Reaper. Real nice, Jameson. And you think we’re friends. Do you think I want to walk around with my hood up and my face hidden? Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through for the past four years? My life has been hell. It’s bad enough that strangers make comments. I don’t need to hear it from people I know.”

Regret flashed across his face. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s not just that,” I said. “It’s everything. You can never resist making some smart-ass remark, and it comes off as mean.”

“I joke around a lot. I didn’t know you were so sensitive. Now I know and I’ll keep it in check when you’re around.”

Unbelievable. “Yeah, I’m the problem. I’m overly sensitive,” I said sarcastically. I lifted a hand dismissively and thrust it in his direction. “Good-night, Jameson. I’m going home now.” I fast-walked down the sidewalk, determined to be done with this evening.

Jameson knew enough not to follow, but he called out softly from behind me. “Good-night, Nadia. Think about the spying thing and get back to me.”

“Yeah, right,” I said under my breath. “Never going to happen.”

Nadia

Days passed in one long miserable string. I astral projected to Russ less and less, telling him that my mother was getting suspicious, and he willingly accepted that excuse. Maybe he was relieved he wouldn’t have me coming around bothering him every night. So many times I was on the verge of asking him if he’d be willing to try to fix my face, but every single time, he’d bring up Mallory right at that moment, squashing the opportunity.

“Does Mallory ever talk about me?” he asked, more than once. I barely spoke to Mallory myself. She was busy, always busy. Busy with her other friends, busy with her after-school activities, and assorted social events. I couldn’t blame her. That would be my life too, given the chance.

“No, she never talks about you,” I told him. Finally, after about the third time, I said, “Why do you ask?”

Russ hesitated. “It’s just...” He closed his eyes and I could feel him trying to decide if he wanted to share this with me. “It’s just that we went out one time. Not a date, really. More as friends. We went to a movie, and then it got kind of weird between us. I hope she doesn’t think less of me.”

I knew what this was all about. The kiss in the movie theater, the incident they discussed in the car. I said, “She hasn’t mentioned anything about that, so I’m sure you guys are fine.” I could tell he was relieved to hear they were fine. He was also glad I didn’t ask for more details.

He said, “You’re a good friend, Nadia. A really good friend.” And that’s when I knew that the categories had shifted. Mallory had once been his dream girl, unattainable, like a movie star to be admired from afar. I, on the other hand, had a different place for him. He’d had feelings for me, sure, but no attraction. I’d thought (hoped?) that eventually I could shift things in my direction but now I knew it was too late. The kiss had promoted Mallory to another level. Now he harbored a secret desire that someday she’d be his girlfriend. He actually thought he had a shot at it. Meanwhile, I was now firmly in friend territory and that wasn’t going to change even if my face improved. As far as Russ was concerned, I was no more likely a candidate for a romantic relationship than his buddies Mick and Justin. We were pals. I was a good friend.
A really good friend
. My fate was sealed.

“Thanks, Russ. I try,” I said, and changed the subject so I didn’t have to keep hearing Mallory’s name.

During all these visits, Russ kept me updated on the trip to Peru. They’d locked in dates, gotten their flight information, and Mr. Specter had shown them their fake-identity passports. They’d be traveling under different names so as not to arouse the suspicion of the Associates. While they were gone, Mr. Specter’s group, the Praetorian Guard, would take over their phones and computers from an offsite location, and keep up the normal level of usage so anyone monitoring it would think they were still home. It all smacked of spy movies, and I wished I could be part of it. To Russ’s credit, he didn’t play it up too much. In fact, he didn’t offer most of the information. I found out by asking. I think he felt bad that I was being left behind, the way any good friend would be.

A few weeks later, I was up in my room translating a passage from French when the doorbell rang. Odd, for my house. We never got drop-in guests. I got up and went to my window to look down. I couldn’t see who was at the door, but there was a gray four-door car parked at the curb. If it was someone taking a survey or selling something, they’d be leaving soon; my mother would see to that.

Downstairs I heard my mother’s voice but couldn’t make out the words. Then the screen door opened and shut, followed by the sounds of voices. My mother was letting someone into the house. I listened hard. It was two someones. A man and a woman. I heard their voices. The man said my name and my mother said something about how she was willing to listen, but that’s all she could promise. I went down the stairs to see what was going on and at the same time, my mother called, “Nadia! Nadia!”

“I’m right here,” I said, turning at the landing.

She smiled, her lips tight, and said briskly, “We have visitors.”

I pulled my hood up and followed her into the living room, where I saw Mallory and Mr. Specter, sitting on the couch, both of them perched nervously on the edge of their cushions. My mother had not been welcoming, was my guess. Mallory’s face lit up when she saw me. “Hey Nadia.”

“Hi,” I looked from her to Mr. Specter to my mother, unsure of what to do next.

“Well don’t just stand there.” My mother’s voice often sounded harsh when she was nervous, and strangers in the house made her nervous. “Sit down, Nadia!”

I sat in a chair by the window and Mr. Specter stood up to shake my hand as if we’d never met. “I’m Samuel Specter,” he said. “I’m a science teacher at the local high school, the one Mallory attends.” He gestured to Mallory who smiled and nodded. He continued, “I was telling your mother that I’m involved with a national honors program for high school students and that four Edgewood teenagers have been chosen to take an all-expense-paid trip to Miami, Florida to compete in a series of academic decathlons. Participating will look good on university applications, and if your team places or wins, you can receive thousands of dollars to be used for your future education.”

Miami, Florida was our cover? Who came up with that?

Mallory jumped in. “We were chosen, Nadia! Out of thousands of kids considered, you and I are two of the four from this are who were picked. It’s the second week of June and it lasts for ten days. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

Mr. Specter sat down next to Mallory and said, “So what do you think, Nadia? Are you interested?”

“Interested? Absolutely.” I glanced over at my mother whose arms were folded firmly across her chest. I wished my father was home to serve as a buffer. His trip to the hardware store had poor timing.

“Not so fast,” Mom said to me. “Mr. Specter has informed me that parents will not be allowed to go, since the students find their presence distracting.” She addressed Mr. Specter. “This will not work out for us. We have a family rule that Nadia never goes anywhere unaccompanied. Either her father or I are always by her side.”