Gifted (25 page)

He looks down at the ground and nods. “Does that make you think less of me?”

I consider this for a moment. “If I didn't know you, I might think less of you, but the way you describe life in the City, it sounds awful.”

He shrugs. “Like anything, there's an upside and a downside.”

“And an upside down?” I say and do a backward roll to crack the somber mood because I don't want to spend my only day off talking about everything that's wrong in the world.

“How'd you do that?” Aimery says with an astonished laugh. “I want to do it!” He flings himself backward and tries to get his legs over his head, but he gets stuck midroll with his butt up in the air. “Help! Help!” he yells, legs waggling like an upturned bug.

“You're caught now!” I smack his rear.

“Hey, stop. Come on.” He laughs and writhes around until I grab his ankles and flip him over so that he lands on his knees. He sits up with dried leaves and little twigs in his hair. I pull two handfuls of grass from the ground and toss them on his head.

“Aw, man!” he says, brushing them away. “Now I'm going to need another shower.”

“Payback!” I yell, and throw more grass at him.

“Payback?” he says, laughing and swatting at the storm I'm making. “For what?”

“For beating me with that pillow!”

“Oh, yeah?” He flings grass at me. “Two can play that game.”

I duck and roll then scurry behind the tree. “You have to be quicker than that!” I tease, popping out long enough to toss dried leaves at him, then hiding again before he can mount his defense. He hops up and chases me around and around the tree. We both run, hollering and laughing at each other like we're little kids again, until on the fifth time around he stops, spins on his heel to go the other way and I slam right into him.

“Ha!” He grabs me tight around the waist. “I got you.”

“No way, sucker!” I turn away and dig my feet in the ground and he steps forward, trying to stop me, but we get tangled up and fall, face first, him on top of me. He keeps hold of my body and we roll, my legs kicking up in the air, both of us laughing and out of breath. I like the way my body fits snugly against his, like we're two parts of one machine. Then we both stop and lie there on our sides, each with a shoulder pressed into the ground. His knees are tucked up against the backs of mine as if we've just woken from a long nap in the sun. We both breathe, his exhale hot on my neck.

“Do you surrender?” he says into my ear.

“Zimri Robinson never gives up!” I proclaim, but I don't try to get away.

“Then you have met your match,” he says like a movie voice-over. “Because Orpheus always wins.”

“Orpheus?” I wriggle and he lets go. “Who's Orpheus?”

He flops onto his back, tosses one arm over his face, and groans. “Oh, hell.”

“Wait a minute,” I say, trying to puzzle through what's going on. “Is that your name?”

“I was going to tell you in your POD this morning!” he says. “But then you jumped up and said we were going to Black Friday and … and … now I've ruined everything.”

“No, you haven't.” I reach out to touch his knee. “I understand. You ran away. You needed to hide. We all hide a part of ourselves sometimes.”

“Says the girl in the black mask?” he asks and peeks out at me.

“Says the boy who outed her and almost got her arrested,” I say back.

“Sorry,” he says, grimacing.

“So. Orpheus, huh?” I ask, trying to get used to his real name. “Wasn't he the guy in Greek myths who went to the underworld to save his wife?”

He nods. “He was the father of songs.”

“Quite a name to live up to!” I tease.

“You have no idea,” he says. “And, there's something else I want to tell you.” He looks at me from the corner of his eye then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “I'm the one who paid your grandmother's MediPlex bill.”

“What? Why?” I sit up on my knees, my heart beating in my ears.

He exhales, sharply. “Because I'm the one who found her that night on the road and when you said you didn't have the money to keep her in the MediPlex I realized that I did.”

“But I put on the concert. I took everybody's cash.”

“I didn't know about the concert until after I'd already paid the bill.” He shrinks back like he's afraid I'm going to punch him.

“That's so Plutey of you,” I say, arms crossed. “Thinking you have to come in here and help us poor dumb Plebes.”

“I don't think you're dumb. I never have,” he says.

“The only reason someone like me would need the help of someone like you is because people like you took everything away from people like me.” I pause and let that sink into his dumb Plute brain. “And I'm paying you back. You know that, right?”

“I don't want your money,” he says.

“It's not
my
money. It's the money from the concert.”

“No,” he says seriously. “I won't take it. I would have put the same amount in the box at the concert.”

“What?” I ask.

“I mean it. What I paid for your grandmother is what your concert is worth to me.”

I sit there, speechless, my heart fluttering like a bird in flight.

“In fact, you deserve more than that!” he adds. “Do you know how much tickets cost to see a live show at an arena in the City? Your show was a bargain and better than any Plute performance.”

My whole body feels liquid and warm. Slowly a smile spreads over my face. I crawl toward him as he yammers on but I'm not really listening to his words, only to the sound of his voice, which is a melody I want to sing. I am overwhelmed by his kindness and by his belief in me. Despite feeling badly that I've hurt Dorian, my feelings for him don't compare to how drawn I feel to this other boy, whoever he might be. It's as if Aimery/Orpheus and I have tiny magnets in our bellies pulling us together. He stops talking, mid-sentence, something about confessing more. Then he blinks at me with eyes wide and uncertain as I loom up into his face. I find the notes. I sing his song then press my lips against his and we both hum, our voices in perfect harmony.

 

ORPHEUS

I don't know
how long we sing-kiss beneath the tree. Our voices blend and balance note after note as we climb up and down the scale. It could have been for one second or forever. Like any good song, it's timeless and stays stuck in my head long after it's over.

“Whoa.” I blink when she pulls away.

“Was that okay?” she asks and bites her lip.

“Uh, yeah. More than okay.” I lean forward for another round but she shies away and moves beside me so we're sitting shoulder to shoulder in the grass. Two dragonflies zoom by in tandem. This time I don't freak out. Instead, I watch them soar up and get lost among the leaves.

“I think I've wanted to do that for a while,” she says.

“Me, too,” I admit, then I lean close to her. “Want to do it some more?”

She bumps me playfully. “Yes, but not here.” She points to Black Friday where people are still streaming out of the doors with their arms full of purchases. “Too many eyes.”

“Are you worried that Dorian will find out?”

She thinks this over then says, “Yes, I guess I am. I don't want to hurt his feelings any more than I already have, but that doesn't change this.” She points from herself to me and back at herself again.

“And what exactly is this?” I make the same gesture back and forth between us.

“I have no idea. I don't even know what I should call you now. Orpheus? Aimery? Which is it?”

I reorient myself so we're facing each other then I reach out and put my hands on Zimri's knees. I feel light-headed but I know if I want this to last, I need to come clean right now. “There's something else you need to know.”

“Okay,” she says and leans forward, ready to listen.

“My full name,” I tell her, then I stop to take a breath, “is Orpheus Chanson.”

“Chanson?” Zimri says and scoots backward. “Orpheus Chanson? As in Chanson Industries? That kind of Chanson?”

I nod and wait. Zimri sits there, stunned. My entire body feels as if it will melt into the ground, seep into the roots of the tree, and disappear if she rejects me. “I know I should have told you sooner.…”

“Good thing you didn't,” Zimri whispers.

“Why?” I ask, my stomach dropping. “Do you like me less now?”

“I don't know,” she says. “I'm trying to decide.”

“Listen, Zimri.” My hands hover in front of her because I'm not sure I'm allowed to touch her anymore. “I know this is a lot to take in and I haven't been completely honest but you should know there's one thing that's one hundred percent true.”

“Which is…?”

“This.” I point from her to me like she did only moments before. “Whatever this is, it's the most honest feeling I've ever had for anyone. That's the truth. And nothing will change that.”

Zimri laughs, surprising herself as much as me, then she shakes her head and I can see her fighting not to smile.

“Do you forgive me?” I ask.

“That depends,” she says.

“On what?” I plead.

“On how this kiss feels,” she says and leans in.

I dive forward, nearly knocking her down. When my mouth touches hers, when my hands find her shoulders, when I breathe her in, it's the way I've imagined every kiss should ever feel—but didn't.

When we pull apart, she sighs deeply and nods. “Okay,” she says simply. “I forgive you, Orpheus Chanson.” Then she stands up and holds out her hands to me. “Now let's get out of here.”

“And go where?” I ask as she pulls me to my feet.

“Well,” she says, taking a deep breath. “You should go to the housing office to find a POD. You're paying rent already, you know. It comes right out of your COYN. And I need to visit Nonda. And after that we'll figure out the rest.”

 

ZIMRI

I don't stop
smiling for the next hour. Not on my way to visit Nonda. Not as I sit beside her bed and listen to her berate me for keeping her in the MediPlex. “You're getting stronger and better every day,” I remind her, but she just sniffs as if insulted. I pat her hand and grin and keep on grinning until I walk outside again and see Orpheus waiting for me on the portico. I run to him and let him catch me in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a surprise for you!” he says. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the weird glove I saw him wearing on the river path once before. “Tati fixed my car.”

I clap my hands. “I knew she could!”

Orpheus lifts his gloved hand to his mouth and commands, “Pick up.” From the AutoTram lot, his car, still banged up but purring instead of clunking, glides toward us. “Open,” he commands, and the topside doors lift up like wings. “After you.” He bows like some old-fashioned gentleman.

Laughing, I climb inside and ogle the WindScreens all around that are lit up with maps, scrolling headlines from the Buzz, and video feeds from the City.

“Where to?” the car asks.

Orpheus looks at me.

“Joy ride?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“Chanson Industry headquarters,” he tells the car and we begin to move.

“Are you crazy!” I yell and grip the armrest by my seat.

“Crazy about you,” he says and flashes his cheesiest grin.

“You're kidding, right?” I ask.

“About what?” he says, being coy.

“Going to Chanson.”

“I'm entirely serious, Zimri.”

“Oh, no,” I tell him. “No, no, no, no. I can't go there with you!”

“I know I just sprung this on you, but I think it's a good idea. We don't have another day off for two weeks and—”

“You've lost your mind,” I tell him. “Your parents are not going to be happy if you show up with some Plute warehouse girl after you ran away.”

“I'm not taking you to meet my parents,” he says. “I want you to meet Piper McLeo.”

“Piper McLeo!” I shout. “She's one of the most powerful producers in the music industry! I can't meet her looking like this!” I motion to my baggy cotton pants, comfy shirt, and my funky orange trainers.

“First off,” Orpheus says, “she's an old family friend. And secondly, you look great! You always do. You have your own style. That's the whole charm of you. It's what sets you apart and makes you interesting and amazing.”

“You need to stop the car,” I tell him. “I'm not going with you.”

“Look, I get it.” He squeezes my hand. “You're nervous. You've never been that far from home and the City seems like a giant overwhelming place, right?”

“No!” I drop his hand. “That's not it at all. Once you get back to the City and see everything you gave up, you'll never come back here. Then what happens to me? I'll be stranded, far from Nonda without enough money to get back.” My breath comes in gulps and my head spins.

“That's not going to happen, Zimri,” he says.

“Why wouldn't it?” I demand.

“Because what I want most is right here, right now. Not back in the City. This is the only place I want to be.”

“Then why go at all?” I ask.

“My father's in Europe and everyone else thinks I'm missing or dead, so we can slip in unnoticed. Otherwise, the 'razzi will be all over me.” He slows the car to a crawl.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “Why are you stopping?”

“This is where we decide. Windows,” he commands and the screens all disappear so the world outside becomes visible.

He points to an old bridge with elegant arches trussed up by crisscrossing steel beams. The whole structure is propped up on concrete pilings from the days when shipping was meant literally. The river is calm and the sky is bright so the bridge appears to belong in two worlds, one up here with us and one down below the surface of the water.