Rewrite Redemption (12 page)

“Give me a break,” I said. I wondered how the Chihuahua knew Ipod was still around. It’s not as if Sam would bring it up. Her P.I., probably. Lex would be pissed. “Pat wouldn’t know concerned if it bit her in the butt.”

He just looked at me. He knew I was right. He didn’t realize that Ipod slept there virtually every night. We tried to make it seem like it was sporadic. We’d gotten away with our arrangement for years. Trust the Chihuahua to throw a wrench into things and get Sam all up in our business.

“Sam,” I said firmly. “Ipod’s our brother. We’ve grown up with him. He’s family. We could
never
think of him that way!” Now
I
blushed.

Sam just sighed and took another drink from his mug. He knew a little about Ipod’s situation, but not the whole deal. Not like I could just say, “Yeah, Ipod’s dad beats the crap out of him, and then I use my super power to heal him up.” Sam couldn’t handle my disappearing. Finding out that there was even more to my strangeness would freak him out for sure. And this focus on the issue was scaring me.

“It might be harder for Ipod,” he said. “Boys that age need…um, a certain amount of, well, privacy.”

“He can have
privacy
in the shower,” I said, certain that my face was beet red. I couldn’t believe I was talking about this with my father. “Jeez, Sam! Look, we’re the only family Ipod has. He’d never do anything to screw that up. Besides, it’s Ipod! Come on…he’s not like other guys.”

“He’s a guy, Autumn, trust me—”   

“It’s not a problem!” I interrupted, louder than I’d intended. I slammed my juice down hard and it splashed out on the table.

“Take it easy, Autumn,” He grabbed a bunch of napkins to wipe up the juice. “We just—”

“You don’t have to worry. It’s not like that with us…not at all.” I grabbed the napkins from him and finished cleaning up the mess. “Ipod lives in his head. You know that. Besides, there are studies that show when children grow up as a family, they don’t have, well, they don’t feel that way about each other.”

Lex found this out from Shrink Three. We’d tracked down some research on the net, knowing this time would come. We were prepared.

“Studies?” he asked.

“Yes, legitimate psychological research.”

“Okay then,” he said, obviously wanting to be done as much as I did. “So the studies…I mean, Pat…”

“I’ll email them to Arthur,” I said. “Besides, she’ll forget about it by tonight.” Which was good; because our studies said the phenomenon applied to kids raised together before they were six. We didn’t think anyone would actually
read
the stuff. We just needed to send some links to impressive sounding websites.

“Well, all right then,” he said, relief flowing off him like rain off a metal roof. I could practically hear it hitting the floor.

“Exactly,” I said.

“You want another Pop Tart?” he asked, nodding his head at the table.

I looked down and realized I’d been tearing my Pop Tart into little pieces instead of eating it. “No,” I said. “I think I lost my appetite.”

“You’re a good kid, Autumn.” He kissed me on the head. “I just worry sometimes.” 

He walked into the living room and I made my escape while I could. As awkward as that talk had been at least it was out of the way. We were safe for a while longer. The threat of losing Ipod scared me, to say nothing of thinking of him with that monster. There was no way I was going to let them break up my family, just because the Chihuahua was a bitch…no freakin way.

I was still hungry, but there was cereal at my real house. I curled up on the sofa with a book and a bowl waiting for Lex and Ipod to get home. I wanted to tell them about the talk. I wanted to tell them that we were safe again for a while as far as our living arrangement. But mostly, I was eager to hear what they found out about Constantine. I decided that tomorrow, I’d go back to school and see for myself.

Yeah, getting bold in my old age.

As if.

I didn’t catch her before school and I didn’t sense her energy all morning. I couldn’t believe I let my power slip the day before. Obviously, I’d scared the kid
.
It had to have been the first time she’d ever encountered another Editor, let alone get slammed by a wave of energy. For me to have let that happen—what a moron.

Smooth, move, Constantine.

She was probably freaked. I had no idea how she held it together in the first place. Being an Editor and not knowing it would be utterly bizarre. Sort of like someone slipping you acid and then not having a clue what was happening when you started hallucinating. Editors have really complex nervous systems that are extremely sensitive. It takes a lot of management, and I gotta say, skill, to deal with the energy. I wondered how she pulled it off with no training.

She attended school so she couldn’t be totally whacked. Still, I had no clue what the story was. I needed to tread carefully, curb my enthusiasm, and move slow. This was the one chance I had to fix my mess. I’d probably go the rest of my life without meeting another Shadow.

The morning crawled by. Finally, fourth period came. I was the first student through the door. The class began to fill. Kids wandered to their seats, talking in groups or sneaking a final text moment before the teacher arrived. A few hastily scribbled down the last few homework answers. I waited…not exactly patiently. Again seconds before the bell, in walks the blonde. And I think, okay, this is it.

But the blonde was alone.

Her walk said self-assured, focused, and don’t mess with me. She scanned the room, her eyes hesitating briefly on me and then moving on. Other than that small flicker, she ignored me. She sat down slightly ahead of me to my right. I assured myself that just because they arrived together last time, didn’t mean they always came together. I watched the door expectantly, but no frickin dice.

Damn!
I let out my breath and slumped in my seat.

I glanced at the blonde from time to time, but she seemed mesmerized looking at herself in a mirror. She didn’t turn my way even once, so I couldn’t make eye contact or anything. I needed to talk to this chick. I didn’t know what she knew. I didn’t know
if
she knew. When class ended, the blonde leapt up, but I was faster.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I tapped her on the shoulder.

She kept walking as though she hadn’t heard me.

I followed, determined to make contact. “Please?” I asked, as politely as I could.

She kept going for a couple of seconds. Then she slowed, hesitantly, as if she was considering whether or not to stop.

“I just wanted to ask if your friend was okay,” I said, to the back of her head.

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

I walked to her side and held out my hand. “I’m Constantine,” I said, looking her in the eyes with what I hoped was my trustworthy look. “I just moved here from Seattle.”

She looked at my hand and kind of smirked. “Shaking hands…what are we, fifty?”

She took it anyway and shook it firmly, as if establishing dominance. But I have big hands, and it just ended up being obvious. Didn’t faze her at all. In fact, I could tell that she thought it was funny. Well, she thought something was funny…me maybe? She almost slipped and smiled. There was somebody home, there. I could tell that immediately. You could see it in her eyes.

“Lex” she said, finally, folding her arms across her chest and cocking her head. “Well, New Guy? Spit it out. Tick tock, tick tock. ”

“What happened yesterday?” I asked, innocently. “Is your friend okay?”

She looked up at me suspiciously, arching her eyebrows, and biting her bottom lip. She hesitated for a moment, and then she said, “yeah…why?”

“It seemed like I scared her,” I said.

She shook her head. “No, she just…she’s just sensitive.”

“Sensitive?” 

“Yeah, to um…chemicals and stuff. You know…all the toxins and crap that they pump into the environment. They must have cleaned in there the other night and used—I don’t know—ammonia or whatever. She gets these wicked migraines from it. They hit her suddenly. Sometimes she passes out, and she didn’t want to do that in front of the class.”

“So it wasn’t me?” I was impressed with her off-the-cuff explanation. I grinned.

“No.”

“Really, because it seemed like it—”

“Not you, migraine.”

“She seemed fine until she saw me—”

“Get
over
yourself,” she interrupted, “nothing to do with you at all. She doesn’t even know you. How could it
possibly
have anything to do with you?”

I could tell that this was a chick who was used to winning arguments. I didn’t want to push her too far. But I couldn’t really ask what I wanted to ask, and she certainly wasn’t volunteering anything. “Well, I—”

“Look, New Guy,” she said, “forget about it.”

“If you say so. But if there’s anything I can do…”

“Not your problem. I have to go.” She resumed walking.

“Lex,” I called to her back. I had to take a shot at
something
.

She stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“What’s her name?” I asked as if I didn’t know already.

She hesitated a moment. “A.J., A.J. Jones.”

“Well, tell A.J. I hope she feels better soon. Tell her that the
trees
are in bloom, and smelling the blossoms…tell her it’s good for migraines.”

She turned, looked at me funny, and then hurried off. I followed several yards behind, trying to blend in with the crowd. She met up with a geeky kid on the sidewalk. They spoke for a moment and then headed across the street to the Pita Pit.

I circled around, so I could cross the street incognito. Peering into a window, I saw the two of them paying for their order. No A.J. The place was packed, and all the inside tables were taken. There was one table left outside. It was next to a huge box sign, sitting on the ground in front of the joint. Moving fast, I dropped down behind the sign, crossing my fingers, hoping they’d grab the table before anyone else.

They did—score! I could recognize her voice. Pulling out my phone, I leaned against the sign, “texting” so I wouldn’t look obvious to people walking along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, but don’t you think that’s weird?” Lex asked.

“Could just be a coincidence,” the guy said.

 “Right. With all the things he could say, he wants me to tell her that the
trees
are in bloom. He used the word blossoms. That is not a guy word. Come on…it means something.”

“Maybe.”

They were talking about me. It was a start.

“You know how A.J.’s pupils always look dilated?” Lex asked.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, his eyes, they’re like A.J.’s. His pupils are huge.”

“We have no evidence that her eyes have anything to do with her strangeness,” he said. “He was probably high.”

“His eyes weren’t red. Besides, I can tell if someone’s high. It’s a clue. You can be really stubborn sometimes, you know that?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He lowered his voice. “Still, I have to admit there’s something strange going on with this guy. I’ve been waiting till I was sure we were alone…”

“Spill,” she ordered.

“He has P.E. second period, like me,” the guy said. “His class was running track. I was on the bleachers, and, of course, I was focused laser sharp on him. You should see him run. He’s a machine.”

“What do you mean a machine…like a cyborg?”

“He’s not a cyborg. You watch too much TV.”

“Don’t give me shit,” she said sarcastically. “Even I know that a cyborg is more probable than time travel. Besides, I’m not ready to discount anything after last night.”

“Point made,” Ipod said. “Sorry, just fast, human fast.”

So they knew. I wondered what had happened last night. I hoped it wasn’t
my
fault. Sometimes energies can collide and trigger strange effects. I needed to be more careful.

Ipod spoke again. “Anyway, Rush Rove was shoving this kid around. I don’t know him…some freshman geek. Rove was threatening him with something. I couldn’t hear anything, but the kid looked like I feel when I see my father walking towards me. Anyway, Rove smacked the kid to the ground, just as the coach blew the whistle for people to line up for the 600-yard dash.”