Split Second (Pivot Point) (11 page)

“She could see two futures.” He said it in awe.

“I know. Divergence. But anything else?”

“Why? Can you do more?”

I started to say yes. I wanted to tell him, to tell an adult who might be able to help me understand. But as I looked at him and then at the box that surrounded us, I didn’t really think my grandfather would be able to help me understand much. “No. Just the two futures thing.”

I walked out of the box. Day had turned to dusk outside—pink clouds streaked the sky. I used to think the Perceptives made the sunsets more beautiful than they really were, but seeing the brilliant sunsets over the last few weeks made me realize that not everything beautiful was an illusion.

Back in the apartment, Trevor sat hunched over a newspaper. I thought he was reading it at first but then saw he was drawing on it. He stopped when he saw me and threw down the pencil.

“My turn in the box?” He said it with a smirk on his face. The kind that said he knew I wasn’t going to let that happen.

I smiled back. “Nice try.”

My grandfather slid the door shut. “Let me get you kids a snack before you go.” The hope in his eyes brought out the guilt in me.

“Okay. We can probably stay a few more minutes.”

He smiled and excused himself into the kitchen.

I sat next to Trevor on the couch and leaned my head back on the cushion, closing my eyes.

I could feel Trevor staring at me, probably waiting for me to explain to him what was going on. That was impossible, though.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. So I opened my eyes to tell him once again that I couldn’t, but he wasn’t staring at me. He was drawing again. Oh. Good.

He cleared his throat. “‘Man Rescues Infant. In a feat of heroism some like to attribute to a rush of adrenaline, a man in Dallas climbed five floors in under five minutes and rescued a baby from a building engulfed in flames.’”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s the article. In the paper. Your grandpa has the headline underlined.” He held it up so I could see. The only thing I saw was the head Trevor had drawn, its mouth wide open, eating the
M
in “Man.” He was a really good artist. I didn’t need to read the article, though. Maybe it was a Para, but not necessarily. Ordinary people did amazing things every day.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, you can do that. I saw you in the bookstore with my brother. You saved him.”

I stood and walked to the window, looking down onto the street. “Listen, whatever you thought you saw, you need to forget it, because it’s only going to cause both of us problems.”

“I can’t do that. I overheard some of the Lincoln High football players talking in the locker room a couple weeks ago—soothing emotions, tearing muscles—and I tried to explain it away. But then you come here from Lincoln High. And you can do that.” He pointed at me like “that” was something visible on my body. “And I can’t help but think what they said was true.” He rubbed his shoulder. “It’s personal. I need answers.”

No wonder why Trevor hadn’t been easy to deter. He had heard something unexplainable. My appearance had brought him an explanation. I looked at his shoulder, and thought about what Duke and his teammates had done. “I’m sorry about your shoulder,” I said, sitting down again. “Duke’s a jerk. But I can’t give you answers. It’s too . . . dangerous.”

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

My grandpa came into the room, carrying a tray of cut vegetables. I grabbed a carrot stick and took a bite.

“I grew these veggies myself using my own special fertilizer.”

I resisted the urge to spit out the chewed-up piece of carrot in my mouth. Trevor raised his eyebrows at me and mouthed,
His own fertilizer?
I tried not to laugh.

Trevor stood. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir, but I need to get going. Do you need a ride, Addison?”

I looked at my grandpa, then shook my head no. I didn’t need to hold Trevor up from his plans any longer. I could take the bus back. “No, I’m good.”

My grandpa held the platter out to Trevor. “Take some food for the road.”

His hand hovered over the vegetable tray. Finally, he settled for a couple of cucumber slices, which he immediately palmed. At the door, he fumbled with all the locks and left.

I watched him go. Then my gaze drifted to the picture Trevor had drawn on the newspaper. Was that article about a Paranormal? Was that the kind of story that would alert the Containment Committee? And why did my grandpa have the
article underlined? What if he brought other people here to the box to try to warn them with his crazy theories? He wouldn’t. Would he? If the CC thought he was harmless, that seemed like the kind of thing that might change their minds and bring them straight to his door. Or maybe he really had managed to evade them.

The toaster on the table started beeping. Nope, he was harmless.

My grandpa eyed it. “I think you should go after him.”

“Why?”

“Because he seemed upset.” He nodded toward the toaster. “And because there’s a Containment car downstairs waiting to intercept him.”

It may have been crazy talk, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I ran out the front door after Trevor.

Laila:
Self-torture sounds better without the word
self
.

It had been three days since my father stole my money. Three days since I’d seen Connor and humiliated myself. And for three days, I had been trying to talk myself out of having to face him again. But I had a theory—maybe I didn’t need to learn to advance my ability. Connor was a Healer. Maybe he could Heal Addie’s blocked paths. Reopen her mind to her memories. Maybe she didn’t need me to do it at all.

I decided I must be a fan of self-torture. Especially because the last thing in the world I wanted was to ask Connor for a favor. If it were anyone but Addie, I would’ve walked away by now.

Only he wasn’t at home or in his garage. I texted him:
Where are you?

He made me wait five minutes before he texted back:
Founders Park. By the metro
.

I drove the twenty minutes to Founders Park, stepped out of the car, and put my aloof face on. I liked to be in control of every situation I could. There were too many times my father asserted his power. I wouldn’t give up mine when I had a choice. Definitely not for a guy.

I walked past the statues that flanked one corner of the block. As the Compound started changing faster and faster, someone with too much sentimentality, in my opinion, had sanctioned that the oldest area of the city remain forever unchanged. Old cars, old houses, old streetlights, and statues of our founders. Essentially an entire city block wasted. Prime property sitting unused and antiquated. It had turned into a museum of sorts, mostly occupied by schoolchildren taking field trips—a practical study of the Outside world. And even schoolchildren didn’t care to see it. Most of the time it was all but abandoned, like now. Especially during school holidays.

I found Connor sitting on a park bench in front of an old transit car. “I haven’t been here since I was eight. I thought someone had gotten smart and torched the place. Guess I was wrong.”

He didn’t look over. “Funny.”

“I thought so. Was it the delivery or the subject matter that didn’t work for you?”

“More the insulting nature than anything.”

“I see.” I sat down next to him and studied the metal boxlike thing that used to serve as mass transit. I couldn’t imagine getting around like that. All smashed together with so many other people in your space. “I need a favor.”

“Are those the only four words you know?”

“Now that joke didn’t work at all, because I had already said many words before I jumped into the whole favor thing. If I had led with it, then maybe.”

He rubbed his eyes and stood. “The answer is no.”

“You haven’t even let me ask.”

He didn’t say anything and walked to the next display—a row of old motorcycles.

“What’s with your obsession with Norm things?”

“It’s good to be educated. You never know whether you’ll end up out there.”

“I will never end up out there.”

He got out his phone and took a picture of the motorcycle. “Are you Clairvoyant now?”

“No, but some things are nonnegotiable. Me living on the Outside is one of those. I can’t imagine always being surrounded by—”

“I’m half Norm.”

I started to laugh but then realized he was serious. “You’re half Norm?”

“My father is Norm, my mom is a Mass Manipulator.”

“Really? And you’re a Healer. That’s . . . amazing really.” Not just the fact that he was a Healer, which was rare, but that he
was so skilled in his ability. It didn’t seem diluted at all.

He raised one eyebrow and looked at me. “How did you know, anyway?”

“How did I know what?”

“That I was a Healer.”

“Well, my knee was bleeding and you put your hands on it and regenerated my skin. I know many people might not have caught on, but I’m pretty observant like that.”

“No. That night outside Mike Petty’s house. You were in the tree. You jumped on me and told me you weren’t worried because of my ability.”

I swatted my hand through the air. “Oh. That. Yeah, I didn’t know. I was hoping your reaction to my statement would give it away.”

He gave a frustrated grunt. “I’m stupid.”

“No. I’m just incredibly smart.” I drummed my fingers on my arm. “So back to my fav—” Wait. I couldn’t get past the fact that he was half Norm. “So your dad lives on the Outside then?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Huh,” I said in wonderment. I’d had no idea. “Were you worried you weren’t going to Present?”

“Will you just ask your favor so you can go?” He took several more pictures of the bike, then pocketed his phone. A streak of grease ran down the left side of his nose, and I realized he must’ve been working on his bike before coming here.

“How old were you?”

“When I Presented?”

I nodded.

“Twelve.”

My shoulders fell. Even a guy with half-Norm blood Presented at twelve.

“Your brother still not showing signs?”

“He’ll get there.”

“Is he using Face’s track?”

“Yes.”

His jaw tensed.

“Why?”

“No reason.” He reached over the barrier that was supposed to prevent people from touching the antiques and grabbed a set of keys out of the bike. “I wonder if it still runs.”

“They wouldn’t have gas near the city, even if it is historical.” I snatched the keys from him and climbed over the waist-high barrier.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing my theory.” I slid the keys into the ancient starting device and turned. Nothing happened.

“That’s not how you start a Norm motorcycle.”

“Well, come over here and show me how you start a Norm motorcycle, oh Norm expert.”

He jumped over the barrier and moved me aside by my hips. A chill shot up my back. He turned the key a notch, then used one foot to push down on a bar by his leg, then did something on the handle. There was a small purr of the motor, followed by silence. “Ha!” A smile lit up his face. “That was incredible.”

I laughed. “It didn’t start.”

“But it turned over.” He slid off the bike and gave it another appraising stare.

A smile looked good on Connor, and I couldn’t decide if it was because it was such a rare occurrence or because it lit up his whole face. I realized I was staring and forced myself to look away. “I’m surprised we haven’t been kicked out yet.”

“You’re kidding, right? This place is so understaffed it’s laughable. Plus, it’s sanctioned. They can’t even bring Para security systems here. They want to keep it pure.”

“But you’ve never tried to start the bike before?”

“No.”

“Too sacred?”

Instead of hopping back over the barrier like I expected him to, he walked deeper into the relics. Toward the back was an Amtrak train sitting on some rusty tracks. He gave me a smirk and climbed up through the open door.

“So, what is it that you need, Laila?” he asked from inside.

“I need you to restore Addie’s memories. If that’s even possible. I mean, you kind of owe it to her, since you almost ran her over and everything.”

His head reappeared in the doorway. “What?” But he didn’t wait for my answer, just disappeared again.

Was he honestly going to make me climb into that rusty old thing? Would it even hold the both of us without falling apart? With a grunt I reached for the vertical bar on the side and hoisted myself inside. He stood just inside the door, and I almost
swung myself into him. I stopped short. It was dim—only the light from an old light post glowed outside the single open door.

“I need you . . .” I stopped because he was staring at me intensely, and I didn’t understand why. I looked down to make sure I wasn’t subconsciously gripping his shirt again, but both my hands were at my sides like well-behaved children. My heart wasn’t playing the well-behaved game, though, and decided to beat out of control. When I looked back up at him, I realized where I had stopped my sentence and quickly added, “To help me. To help Addie.”

He took a step back and then seemed lost for a moment, like he didn’t remember what he was doing. I bit back a smile. Did I actually have an effect on him?

He finally sat down on a bed that folded out from the wall. This must’ve been a sleeper car. “Is she hurt?”

“No. I Erased her memories and she wants them back. You can do that, can’t you? You can reopen blocked memory paths, regenerate stagnant memories.”

“No. I can’t.”

“I know you can, so are you saying you won’t?” I actually didn’t know he could, but confidence in a suspected truth had gotten many people to admit many things to me.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“You’re kind of a jerk sometimes.”

“Sometimes? I was going for all the time. What more do I have to do?” He stood and walked deeper into the train. My heel caught on some sort of bolt on the ground, and I almost tripped.
I got my phone out to light the way and followed him. When I caught up, I grabbed hold of his arm and used it as support while I took off my shoes. I tossed them onto a seat. “Don’t let me forget those on the way back.”

He glanced at me several times as we continued walking.

“What?”

“You’re shorter than I thought.”

“I am not short.”

“I said shorter.”

“I always wear heels.” I sighed. He really wasn’t going to help Addie. “I guess it’s back to me advancing my ability.”

“What makes you think that you advancing your ability will result in restoring memories?”

His arm accidentally brushed mine, and my heart raced. Stupid, traitorous heart.

“The note. It’s a long story. It just will . . .” I stopped with a gasp. We had reached the front of the train, and the windows that surrounded us now looked out onto the river, across which shone the city lights. The tracks at one point must’ve gone across, but they were now a gnarled mess. The train rested on the last track, its progress halted by the water. We stood in the old, looking at the new. With Connor standing so close, the darkness surrounding us, and the lights streaking the water white in front of us, an energy began to build in the air. An energy that seemed to push against me.

“Have you ever tried to restore memories?” he asked.

“Nope.” I sat in one of the big chairs behind tons of knobs
and buttons. “But there’s no time like the present.” The only problem was, Connor was no help. I couldn’t Erase his memories and then try to bring them back. I looked around, then dug my phone out of my pocket.

I rested it on top of two knobs. “Addie’s house.” Immediately the directions to Addie’s house appeared, a red line showing the way. I lifted my hands and concentrated. A computer was different from a brain, but I could still feel the most active components. I shut them off and opened my eyes. The directions were gone. Awesome.

Connor sat down on the other seat. “You can Erase a computer’s memory.” He said it with such a flat voice I wasn’t sure whether he was impressed.

Now for the hard part. I tried to concentrate, force my mind to send out its power. A buzz started in my head, and I thought about how Addie was worried about me trying this. How she thought her ability had been damaged by pushing too hard. I shook off the thought. Other people advanced their ability all the time; it couldn’t be that bad. But nothing was happening. I gritted my teeth and tried again.

“You’re trying to restore its memory by advancing your ability?”

“Yes.”

“And you need some strong emotion?”

I paused. Strong emotion? I didn’t let the gasp that wanted to come out escape with the revelation, with the memory of just minutes before when I’d felt an energy building around me.
That was usable? So Connor knew more about advancing abilities than he let on. “Yes.”

“You must be off the DAA program then. If you’ve been using that, it’s not going to work.”

A lot more. “I am.” I swallowed hard. “Can you just . . .”

“Can I just what?” He turned toward me, his eyes meeting mine. They were electrified, like a lightning storm raged behind them. I needed to feel that energy. I swiveled my seat toward him, rested my hand on my knee and turned it palm up. That was as much risk as I could take. Now it was his turn.