Loop (20 page)

I walked up next to him and pinned my hands down over his. His earlobe tickled my lips as I whispered in it.

“Not a chance.”

chapter 17

“SO I’M YOUR SECRET GIRLFRIEND?”
I plopped down at my vanity and took off the bracelet Mom had given me, so I could rub lotion on my hands. “Was this your plan all along?”

Finn didn’t answer, and when I turned around to look at him he was propped up, staring at my wrist.

“What?” I asked.

“Your bracelet.”

“What about it?”

“Sorry.” He shook his head like he was coming out of a daydream. “I’m finally getting to the point where I can separate you from Future You in my mind. But now you’re wearing her bracelet.”

“It was mine first.”

“I know. It’s just something I associate so strongly with her. She always had it on. And there you are. Wearing it.”

“My mom gave it to me. Of course, you already knew that.”

“I didn’t.” He flomped back down on the bed. “Anytime I asked you about it, you avoided my question. I thought it was some big secret.”

“Why would I keep that from you? It’s a bracelet.” I clasped it back on. “So can we talk about what just happened? Did you think you’d walk into my life, declare your undying devotion in front of my friends, and I would melt into your arms—your insta-girlfriend?”

“The only thing I was thinking was, ‘Oh, crap. How am I going to explain this closet situation?’” Finn sat up and fluffed the pillow, but it returned to my pre-programmed setting when he laid it on the bed. After two tries, he gave up and slammed his head back into it. “Plus, I was starving and Charlie had a candy bar. An honest-to-goodness candy bar. Not those twigs and seeds you’ve been bringing me.”

“Those twigs and seeds provide optimal nutritional balance for the physical and cognitive demands of an active Shifting lifestyle.”

Finn stared at me like I’d sprouted a third eyeball. He waited until I was done before he sat up and clapped his hands together. Again. And again.

“Bravo! Did they serve a helping of brainwashing with the twigs this morning or was it beamed directly into your brain via your microchip?”

“You don’t know anything,” I said. “You don’t know anything about me or this school … or my mom.”

“I know you can wolf down a big ol’ greasy order of fries in three minutes flat when you don’t think anyone’s watching. Without breaking a sweat about whether or not your nutrition is optimized. I know you chew on that little section of hair tucked behind your ear when you’re bored. And you have this weird fear of squirrels that defies all reason.”

“They have creepy eyes.”

He kept talking like he hadn’t heard me. “I know you’re addicted to movies like most people are addicted to crack cocaine. And”—he pursed his hand in the universal sign for “shut your mouth” before I had a chance to interrupt him again—“I know you have no idea what crack cocaine is. You have no problem defying this school’s authority as long as it’s on
your
terms. And even though you don’t want to accept it, I know you well enough to know it’s driving you as crazy as it’s driving me that we don’t know what an enigmatic grin is, much less how or why both of our mothers have mentioned it.”

Toward the end of his speech, Finn’s voice had settled into a heavy whisper. His eyes latched on to mine and held me there, as tightly as if he were embracing me with his arms rather than with a stare. His chest was heaving, and I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath either.

I looked away and broke the connection.

I … I didn’t have time for this.

Still, as much as I wanted to Shift him out of my life and pretend none of this had ever happened, that wasn’t reality. Reality was I had no idea how to get rid of him. Reality was ICE was scrutinizing my every move right now. Reality was if we got caught, if people found out what he really was, then hospital bills and Leto Malone would no longer matter.

Reality was I had no idea what to do next.

“So what now, Nancy Drew?” I asked.

“For someone who was born after my great-great-great-grandchildren, you sure make a lot of anachronistic references.”

I shrugged. “My mom had a thing for the twentieth century.”

Finn made a low rumbling noise and punched one of my pillows. Up to this afternoon, I would have described his behavior as go-with-the-flow. To the point of obnoxious, really.
Crash my Porsche? No problem. Suck me through time against all laws of physics? Just say when.

He wasn’t going with anyone’s flow now.

“What shimmied up your shorts?” I asked.

“You’re trying to tell me this trail of bread crumbs isn’t driving you berserk? Your mom loved the twentieth century. My parents were born in the twentieth century. Does that seem like coincidence?”

“It was a
century,
Finn. Do you realize how many people were born in those hundred years? Billions. More than any century before. Or since.”

He picked the pillow up and twisted it, ignoring me. “If only there was a way to track any overlap when they could have met. Maybe your mom went on a mission to my mom’s time.”

I chewed the edge of my lip. If I did find a connection, it could forever dissipate any doubts about my mother’s sanity. And any talk of her ending up in Resthaven. But if Finn and I got caught, ICE would yank their offer. She’d definitely end up in Resthaven.

Blark.
I wasn’t kidding anyone. Nothing gambled, nothing gotten.

“There is a way,” I said.

He dropped the pillow. “How?”

“The chip.” I pointed to the nape of my neck. “Every Shift is registered. It’s public record.”

One of the first concessions we made once we came out of hiding.

“So not only do they track you across space and time; they record everywhere you’ve been? Isn’t that invasive?” he asked.

“Better invasive than the alternative.”

“The alternative being…?”

I opened my mouth to answer but then snapped it shut. I couldn’t discuss this with him. It didn’t matter that he was in my time. He was still the son of a Shifter.

“Nothing. Look, just trust me. Chips are a good thing. For everyone.” I fed him the usual rhetoric. “They keep Shifters safe and allow us to control when and where we go. And they give nonShifters peace of mind that we’re not taking advantage of our ability.”

“Taking advantage? In what way?”

“Well, look at your family and your money and your art collection. I know your dad doesn’t bring the paintings back with him, but it’s still cheating.”

Some might even say stealing.

Finn shrugged. “He can’t hold down a steady job. There’s no way he could explain the absences. He doesn’t do anything illegal. He only invests in companies in the past if he believes in what they’re doing and sees positive results.”

“I know. But now that Shifters are out in the open, we can’t do stuff like that anymore.” The exact kind of stuff I’d agreed to do for Leto. Well, no. Leto was worse. He wasn’t investing in entrepreneurship or creativity. He was destroying them.

“So we can track all your mom’s trips?” Finn clasped his hands together. “Good. Let’s go.”

“
We’re
not going anywhere.”

“You’re right. You should go. I’ll write down the dates to look for.”

He pulled a journal and pen out of his pocket and started writing.

Clueless.

“The information is only available at the Central Infobank,” I said.

My words didn’t produce their intended shock-and-awe. He didn’t look up from his scribbles.

“Okay. How soon can you get over there?”

“Let me blink and teleport there.” I closed my eyes. “Oh, wait. I forgot. I can’t.”

“Actually, you kind of can. But I see your point.” He put down his pen.

The location wasn’t even the problem. Even if I
could
teleport to the Central Infobank, I couldn’t access any records as a minor. And it was a secured database. I’d need valid ID.

Finn sat back down and pulled me next to him. I was so spent, I didn’t even fight him. Neither of us spoke.

Time was not on our side. Time to think. Time to discuss. Time to plan. It was an odd feeling. I had long thought of time as an ally of sorts. As of late, it was more like a snake waiting to strike or strangle. Or slither away.

“I need you gone.” I knew it sounded cruel, but it was true. It would solve so much. I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about ICE discovering his presence.

“I’m not going anywhere until we follow up on this. You don’t even know how to get rid of me. That Pad thing didn’t work. And I’m not going near another one until we’ve figured out this clue.”

“Clue.” I snorted. More likely, a pointless Pod chase.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I realize the longer I’m here, the riskier things get for you. And the last thing I want is to put you in danger. I’ll leave…”

My face split into a triumphant grin.

“…
after
we find out what that saying means.”

I did still need to figure out how to even Shift him home. This way, I’d be doing something productive in the meantime.

“Deal.” I stuck out my hand. “I’ll try to figure out what an enigmatic grin is.”

“
We’ll
try to figure it out.”

“Fine. And, yes, the logical starting point would be researching my mother’s missions.”

“So it’s simply a problem of getting to the Central Interbase?”

“Infobank. And, no, that part should be fairly simple.” I ran my fingers over my head. “It’s a problem of hair.”

*   *   *

Oh my gosh, I was
not
doing this.

I closed my eyes and dipped my fingers a few inches closer on the second try, but no dice. It was too gross. Just. Too. Gross.

The door opened over on the student side of the locker room. My classmates’ chatter reverberated off the frosted-glass wall that separated the students’ side from the faculty’s—where I was currently crouched in the farthest shower stall peering down a filthy drainpipe. A single strand of hair clung to the side. I’d seen it once in a Mergie Hendrix movie. She had to impersonate a Canadian spy, so she snatched a hair the only place she could, in the shower—right before it would have gone down the drain, never to be seen again.

It wasn’t this icky when she did it.

It was now or never. Not only because of the threat of discovery posed by the students on the other side of the thick glass wall or a teacher walking in. The greater threat would soon be misted out of the inconspicuous spray nozzles that lined the edge of the pipe, leaving it as sparkling clean and hair-free as all the other ones. It was a miracle I had found this one.

Yep, now or never.

I gave the pipe one last inspection.
Blech. Never.
I pushed up on my hands to walk away. There had to be another way. The railing was slippery when I grabbed it. My hand smacked back down on the shower floor. The silver bracelet from my mother clanked against the tiles. The sound steeled me.

“Now.”

I plunged my hand as far as it would reach down the murky drainpipe, nearly up to my armpit. The tip of my middle finger grazed the edge and found the hair. Inch by inch, I pulled it up the side of the drain. The trail of sludge left in my finger’s wake grew thicker and thicker, but I didn’t dare move or reposition my hand lest the strand slip away. The lip of the drain posed a special challenge, how to get the hair all the way out without leaving a noticeable pile of pilge.

There was also the small matter of not heaving up the twigs and seeds I’d eaten for lunch. Keeping one finger firmly glued to the precious hair, I pushed the heap of glop down with the other hand. It was just in time, too. The sprayers released their cleaning concoction. All signs that the drain had ever been used evaporated before my eyes.

But I had the hair. Of course, if I was
caught
with the hair … Nope. Couldn’t think about that now. I was scared Shiftless as it was.

I got up to leave, then stopped with a jolt. Coach Black’s voice boomed over the speaker. It took me a second to realize it was over on the student side. “Break’s over, ladies. You’ve got three minutes to get back out here before I send in the tru-ants. With their stingers
on
.”

“They can sting my—” One of the girls on the other side of the wall must have enjoyed Gym about as much as I did.

“Speaker’s turned on two-way, Silvey,” Coach’s voice boomed again.

I was glad I hadn’t said it. I’d thought it. When I’d left after the first round of bruiseball, Coach Black had been under the impression I was headed straight to Nurse Granderson’s office with an aching shoulder. Coach might not take kindly to my detour into the faculty locker room. I wouldn’t last long with a bunch of tru-ants on the loose, though.

BZZZZZZZZZZ!

Aiggh.
I threw my hands over my ears. I could only imagine how bad it was on the other side of the glass wall with those things chasing the girls around like the student-seeking missiles of annoyance that they are.

Coach Black’s voice over the speaker was a blessed relief from the high-pitched, droning screech: “That was a warning, ladies.”

Some warning. But it must have gotten through, because the next sound I heard was their feet running toward the door. Then silence. Except for the whir of the ants hovering around in the girls’ locker room, clanging into lockers and bumping into bathroom stalls.

I took a tentative few steps toward the exit. Most of the ants had never had a reason to go on the staff side. It was unlikely they’d go on a manhunt for me here. Almost as if reading my mind, though, one of them zeroed in on my silhouette on the glass wall and began bumping against it like a bruiseball on the rampage. The tru-ant whined and whimpered, only a mild nuisance for the moment. But I needed to get out of there.

The exit was only a few feet away, but before I could reach the button the door slid open a few inches. Murmurs of a hushed argument drifted into the room. I bolted for the farthest toilet stall and pulled my feet up as the arguers entered the locker room.