Loop (17 page)

“Yes, Mimi, how could you never have mentioned him?” Her husband joined her.

Mimi’s mouth burbled open and closed like a fish. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked by Finn’s sudden appearance or by the parental admonishment. They were both firsts, for sure. I squeezed Finn’s (oh my, rather firm) biceps to warn him into silence. Too late.

“I’m Bree’s cousin. Only in town for a short visit.”

“You have a cousin?” Mimi looked at me as if this omission had been a personal slight. I could see the hurt build up behind her eyes. I was the worst person ever.

Finn waved off Mimi’s question. “Like fifth or sixth, twice removed … by marriage. Something like that.”

Mimi’s chin started to quiver.

Don’t you do it, Mimi. Don’t do it,
I pleaded to her silently.

It was too late.

“Ellison team hug!” Mimi and her parents swooped down on Finn and me and swallowed us up in a giant grizzly hug that knocked all the air out of my lungs.
Phhpt.
I blew away a mouthful of either Mimi or Mrs. Ellison’s gold-spun hair and staggered back. Thankfully, Finn looked more amused than annoyed.

Not that I cared one nano what Finn Masterson thought.

Mimi stepped away. Her voice went all squeaky like it does right before she starts crying. “It’s just so good to have you here because … because…”

Her squeaks trailed off, and she looked away.

A serious expression clouded Finn’s face. “Because it’s always good to have family around.” He turned to face me. “I was so sorry to hear about your mom’s accident.”

My first reaction was to toss on my Teflon smile as usual, but then I realized there was only one way he could have known about my mom’s accident, since apparently Future Bree hadn’t told him. He’d gone through my drawers, and he didn’t even have the decency to look sorry.

Mrs. Ellison reached out and took my hands in hers. “You know we keep your mother in our thoughts and prayers.”

“Thank you.”

“I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your mother’s situation,” Mrs. Ellison added, giving her husband a meaningful look.

“Mom!” hissed Mimi. “There’s no proof she tampered with her chip.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Bree. I didn’t mean … I only meant that if she
did
tamper with her chip … I mean, I wouldn’t blame her what with the situation with … I mean … oh, sweetie, I’m so, so—”

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. E.”

Sometimes, the well-meaning comments of the few nonShifters who weren’t up in arms about my mother hurt worse than the jabs of those who were. Of course, Mrs. Ellison was sympathetic to Shifters since she was married to one and had a Shifter for a daughter, but she still believed that Mom had purposefully tampered with her chip. Not that I blamed Mrs. E. Once the story broke and reporters latched on to the details about my father, it seemed like the obvious conclusion. But Mom’s chip wasn’t damaged at all. No scars. No signs of trauma. It had just stopped working.

And then her body stopped working.

I glanced back over at Finn. He was staring at me. I’d grown used to stares. Total strangers stretched their necks to see the girl from the news. People needed to believe my mother had done something reckless or ridiculous or romantic. Shifters needed something preventable. NonShifters needed something stoppable.

Finn’s stare held none of those things. And it threw me.

Counselor Salloway flitted into the room and announced dinner was served. The crowd surged and thinned as students with no family visiting filtered in to eat. The Ellisons moved forward. Finn paused by the welcome desk to fill out a name tag along with a handful of other people.

He waved the compubadge in the air. “Is there a pin or something to attach it to my shirt?”

At least he was wearing one.

I grabbed the tag away from him and slapped it against his chest. Finn’s face lit up like he’d witnessed a magic trick. Here I’d been feeling sorry for him cooped up in my house. He’d probably kept himself entertained watching the dishwasher. That and rifling through my stuff and plotting how to invade my school.

When I didn’t move for the stylus, he picked it back up. “Do you want me to fill yours out?”

“People know who I am.” I lowered my voice: “And people
don’t
need to know who you are.”

“It’ll make me stick out less if you’re wearing one, too.”

He had a point. I nodded my consent. Finn took extra care in forming the letters so they weren’t the same messy chicken scratch as his own. It was kind of sweet. Kind of.

He held the tag up. “So what makes it stick?”

“Body heat.”

“Oh.” With the tip of his finger and the lightest of pressure, he touched the center of the tag to my chest, right under the collarbone. I smoothed it the rest of the way down. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening to our conversation.

Because there was about to be a smackdown.

“How did you even know tonight was Family Night?”

“Your, umm, fridge told me this morning.”

I’d been back to the house only a handful of times in over six months. It had never occurred to me to reset the reminders. It had never occurred to me that Mom would have remembered to set the reminders in the first place. I imagined them going off every week, reminding nothing and no one just how alone I was in this world. And the single time someone
was
there to hear them, it was the one person I wanted to stay away.

“You took a Publi-pod to get here?” I asked.

“Publi-potty is more like it.”

Ha.
The initial charm must have worn off.

“What if you’d been seen?”

“I was seen.”

“I mean by people who could tell you’re from…”

“What? The past? I thought you said no one would believe it, that it isn’t possible.”

“It’s not.”

“Then how am I—?”

I shoved my hand over his mouth. “Not the place.”

He licked my hand. Licked it. I jerked it away.

“I can’t believe you—”

“Yeah, I know. Bugs the crap out of you when I do that.”

I got up in his face. “How many times have I had to tell you to stop?”

“Not you,” he said. “Remember? Future You.”

Wow. What were the chances of breaking every law of quantum dynamics
and
locating the universe’s most annoying person in one fell swoop?

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Starving. Those instant meals are technically edible, but…”

“I know.” I’d felt a little guilty about that, too. “I’ll try to figure out a way to get you some fresh groceries before you go back tonight.”

Finn stopped. “Go back?”

“Until next Family Night.” This was actually the perfect way to sneak him in. “I haven’t had time to recruit a transporter to solve the last piece of our problem.”

He moved forward until the tips of his boots touched the toes of mine. My name tag strained against my shirt, toward the competing warmth.

“What problem is that exactly?” he whispered.

“How to—” I took a step back to concentrate. “How to get you back where you belong.”

“Wherever you are. That’s where I belong.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want to finish your Captain Protector gig.” I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned with how you’re going to get home?”

And there it was. A flash, before Finn wiped his face of emotion. Worry. Homesickness. Something. He turned away before I could call him on it.

“How ’bout that dinner?” he said with a smile.

*   *   *

Family Night meals are always the best. Fruits and veggies come down fresh from Hydroponics. Trays stacked with plates and bowls fly to the tables the second we touch the order button on the menu. Even the lighting’s better. A million little twinkle lights floating in the air rather than the usual harsh solar tubes.

Finn ogled it all. This must have been what he expected of the future. I kicked him under the table when he became so mesmerized by the sauce dispenser he missed the punch line of one of Mr. Ellison’s corny jokes.

Toward the end of dinner, Mimi’s parents became more and more insistent about me joining them for a game of Yahtzoids. I shot Mimi a desperate look. She picked up on it at once.

“Let’s give Bree and Finn some time alone.” There may have been some Ellison under-table kicking, because both her parents got the hint at the exact same time.

“Of course,” said Mrs. Ellison.

“We’ll run up to the rec room now.” Mr. Ellison pushed his chair away from the table. “See you later.”

“Or … not,” added Mrs. Ellison.

“Thanks for understanding,” I said. “If I don’t catch up with you, have a good week.”

The dining hall had emptied out for the most part. I stretched out in my seat and cupped my chin in my hands. Finn entertained himself zipping the dishes away on the conveyor that ran down the center of the table. Dinner had actually been relatively pleasant. I forgot how nice Family Night could be when you weren’t by yourself. Maybe by next week I could figure out a way to talk Wyck into helping me without divulging who Finn really was or why he needed to go to the twenty-first century. This was all assuming Finn would Shift when I stuck him on a Pad. If he didn’t, we were yoinked.

I didn’t notice at first when Rab and Patrice stalked up behind me. When I saw them, I dipped my head low and concentrated on the last bite of my vegan flan.

“Have a good dinner, Tink?” said Patrice.

“Heard you were handing out safety tips. How to survive a forced fade.” Rab let out a guffaw, and they kept walking.

Finn looked up from the conveyor belt. “Did they just call you Tink?”

I nodded, keeping my head down.

“Is that your nickname—short for Tinker Bell?”

“Uhh, no.”

“So why did they call you that?”

I looked up, expecting curiosity or amusement. Instead, Finn looked frustrated.

“It’s hard to explain.” Plus, I flat-out didn’t want to. “Are you okay?”

“There’s so much she didn’t tell me.”

“Good. She wasn’t supposed to tell you anything.”

A movement over on the transporter side of the cafeteria distracted me.

Wyck and his brother, Den, sat in the corner sifting through a bag, likely full of items high in fat, sugar, and/or some other forbidden substance I craved on a regular basis. Not tonight, though. Tonight I wanted nothing more than to hightail it out of there without any uncomfortable introductions. I whipped my head around hoping Wyck hadn’t noticed me.

No such luck. Wyck swaggered over.

“For you, madame.” Wyck reached into the bag Den was holding and pulled out a chocolate bar. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

I tucked it away before a teacher could confiscate it, although Quigley was the only one who would be so evil as to take away a single piece of candy. “We’re not quite even yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He leaned against the chair next to Finn and handed over another morsel. “You’ve only gotten your first taste from me.”

Finn stiffened. The fork he had clenched in his hand screeched across the conveyor belt. Everyone within earshot winced.

“We’ll just leave it at ‘you owe me one.’” I yanked the fork away.

Finn hadn’t said a word, but when Wyck laid a hand on Finn’s shoulder he pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Care to introduce me to your company, Bree?” said Wyck.

“This is Finn Ma—”
Crap
. “Uhh, my cousin … my distant cousin.”

“Nice to meet you.” Wyck stuck out his hand and Finn took it.

“I think we’ve already met,” said Finn, squeezing Wyck’s hand so hard the tips of both their fingers went white.

“Sorry.” Wyck looked Finn up and down, bemused. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

“I never forget a face.”

“Guess I have a look-alike.” Wyck wrenched his hand away and shook it out. I shot Finn a dirty look when Wyck turned away, but Finn ignored me. His gaze was fixed on some random spot on the opposite side of the dining hall like he was trying to work out a Trig problem in his head. Then he seemed to shake it off and come back to his senses. He glanced at the name compubadge adhered to Wyck’s chest.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too. Wike, is it?”

“It’s pronounced ‘wick.’ Like dynamite.”

“Except wouldn’t that be ‘fuse’? You’re thinking of a candle.” Finn held his finger up like an imaginary flame. A puff of air escaped his cheeks.

Wyck guffawed and slapped Finn on the back. “Bree never told me she has such a clever cousin. Come to think of it, she never mentioned she had a cousin at all.”

Heh.
I let out a halfhearted laugh, but my shoulders tightened when Finn put his arm around them.

“
Distant
cousin,” I said.

“We’re regular Einsteins,” said Finn.

Wyck’s lips broke into an uncertain smile. “Umm, yeah.” He brushed his thumb against my chin and winked. “Catch you in class tomorrow, Your Hotness.”

With that, the brothers left to make their rounds with the verboten loot. When they were out of earshot, I grabbed Finn by the wrist and jerked him toward me.

“
What
was that?”

He shrugged in that maddening way. “I was making conversation.”

“Candles? Einstein? Why not make a general announcement? ‘Hi, I’m Finn. I’m from the past. Care to show me how a simple compubadge works?’” I thumped his badge with my palm, and it stuck tight to my hand. A game of tug-of-war between me and his shirt ensued.

Rip.

The shirt lost.

“If you’re done taking my clothes off—”

“I’m
not
taking your—”

“Calm down.” The order came out firm but not harsh. He put his hand on my trembling knee under the table and held it still. “I thought you said nobody realized it was possible for me to travel into the future.”

“That’s true.” The thumping in my rib cage subsided a little. It
was
Family Night. Nothing could be more natural than a visit from my cousin. Albeit one I had never mentioned. To anybody.

“Do you go on many missions with him?” Finn asked.