Split Second (Pivot Point) (6 page)

“Trevor’s room.”

I stopped and jerked him to a halt with my abrupt movement. “Can you just bring your drawings out here? I probably shouldn’t go into your brother’s room.”

“Okay, wait here.”

“Waiting.” The hall was filled with family pictures taken over Trevor’s and Brody’s lifetimes. Not just formal ones, of them stiffly posing for a camera in a studio, but candid ones as well. Camping, boating, barbecuing. A lifetime of memories. Could those memories be gone in the blink of an eye if the Compound found out that Trevor might be onto something? Surely Scar-Face didn’t mean a complete memory wipe. He just meant the
memories about the Compound, about abilities. Didn’t he? I wasn’t ready for my memories to be wiped either from one little slipup. Trevor needed to believe I was completely Normal. How could I convince him of that?

Laila:
What’s that lame saying about a pen and a sword? It might be true.

The difference between Duke and other Mood Controllers was that Connor wouldn’t be anticipating Duke’s ability. And if, like the rest of the school, Connor still thought Duke was Telekinetic, then maybe it could work to our advantage. It was the first time in the last two weeks I was glad I hadn’t announced to the whole school what Duke was, like I had wanted to.

“What’s Connor’s ability?” I asked Duke as we drove to his house.

“I’m not sure. He was in a lot of Bobby’s classes, so maybe he can manipulate mass.”

The way he said Bobby’s name so casually made me flinch a little. As if Bobby was still just his neighbor and best friend,
not a convicted murderer. I cleared my throat and shook off the feeling. “I thought you knew everyone’s ability. Addie said you printed off some roster from the school computers.”

“Yeah, but I was only interested in certain abilities. I didn’t pay attention to the others.”

He was only interested in the abilities that would get him what he wanted—a look at his future. I tried to hold back the growl rising up my throat. “When you get home, look it up for me.”

“I would, but I destroyed that list.”

“Then get another one printed off.”

“One, it’s not as easy as you make it sound. And two, you’d have to fill me in on some more details in order for me to become that invested. Last time I schemed, it kind of blew up in my face. I’m sure you remember.”

He parked in front of Connor’s house and shut off the engine.

How could I forget, seeing as how I was one of the pawns in his scheme? My phone chimed, and I read the screen. It was from Eli:
Think of something
. I smiled. I had told him last night that if he asked me that one more time I was going to think of his death in vivid detail. I texted back:
Ha-ha. You wish you could read my mind from five miles away
. As much as the thought of him reading my mind at all bothered me, I really wished he would at least pick up on something here or there.

I looked over at Duke. “When did you Present?”

“I was twelve. Worst day of my dad’s life. He wanted a Telekinetic son. He got me.”

I wasn’t exactly the type that people opened up to, so I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “Whining makes you less attractive. Don’t do it anymore.”

He laughed.

I glanced up the drive. Once again, the garage door was open. Connor was tinkering around inside. The boy loved his bike. I took a deep breath and shook out my hands. I wasn’t used to talking to a guy without the safety net of being able to Erase whatever I wanted to when the conversation was over.

“So what do you want me to do again?” Duke asked.

“Trust. He needs to feel trust. Comfort. Ease.” I cleared my throat. “And a little lust never hurt anyone.”

Duke shook his head. “I don’t think he needs my help with that one. Isn’t that the one emotion you have control over?”

“He doesn’t like me. He’d rather date his motorcycle.”

“Is that a first for you?”

“Shut up. Just do it. And for the love of all that is living, try to be subtle about it.”

He leaned close to me. “If I remember right, you didn’t suspect anything.”

I shoved him back. “Stay out of my bubble, pretty boy.”

We got out of the car. I kept at least a foot of space between Duke and me as we walked up the drive and into Connor’s garage. He didn’t seem as surprised to see me this time. “I don’t give refunds,” he said, wiping at an already shiny piece of metal on his bike.

“I don’t want a refund. Just a friendly chat.”

“Hey, Connor,” Duke said, his annoying smile painted across his face. “Nice bike.”

I should’ve told him not to talk. To just stand to the side like the shiny little toy that he was. I didn’t even know why I bothered bringing him. Connor had probably mastered blocks for all the abilities, like he had with mine.

“Thanks,” Connor said, and I could’ve sworn his tone was a little less edgy than his original greeting. Maybe Duke would be useful after all.

I turned my back to Connor and mouthed the word
Trust
to Duke, who gave a slight nod.

“It
is
a nice bike,” I said. “Looks like she’s all fixed up from her meeting with the pavement. Addie told me what happened. Crazy. You’re lucky you didn’t hit her.”

“I don’t think luck had anything to do with it,” he said.

What did he want me to do, tell him he was awesome because he managed to avoid hitting my friend at the last second? I ran my hand along the seat, testing his reaction. When he didn’t flinch, I threw my leg over and sat.

“What do you want, Laila?” Connor asked evenly.

“Just what I always wanted.” I met his eyes. “Information.”
Come on, Duke, make him feel trust
. “What would it hurt? I won’t even mention where I got it from.”

“They’re not stupid. They’ll be able to make that deduction.”

“It’s not like I’m some narc. I’m a customer. A paying customer.”

“A partially paying customer.”

“I’ll pay you back. That’s not the point, though. The point is that I need help and I’m willing to pay for it.”

“Ability advancement. That’s what you’re after?”

I felt Duke’s gaze shift to me in the background, but I didn’t turn to look at him. “Yes. Just a name. I’ll figure out the rest on my own.”

He tilted his head at Duke, and for a second I worried that maybe he felt Duke crawling inside him, but then, without looking at me, he said, “Get off my bike.”

I used his shoulder, acting like I needed it for the task. As I did, I gave a quick glance back to Duke. I could tell by the set of his perma-grin and the intense look in his eyes that he was concentrating hard on his task. I squeezed Connor’s shoulder as I straightened up and then dug a pen and scrap of paper out of my purse. “Just a name.”

He grabbed the pen and paper and began writing. I tried to keep the heightened beat of my heart to myself, but it sounded like it was broadcasting to the ends of the earth.

“I will give you information on one condition.”

“Sure.”

“When you go, you take me with you.”

“Fine,” I said, even though I didn’t mean it. He handed me the paper and I looked at it. “This is just an address.”

“I’ll give you the name when we go.” And then he said, “Hey, Duke.”

“Yeah.”

Before Duke could even finish the word, Connor threw the
pen at him like a knife, end over end. It stuck into his shoulder for a beat before falling to the floor. “Telekinetic, huh?”

“Ouch,” Duke said, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Don’t ever try to mess with my head again,” he said to Duke, “or I’ll mess with yours. And believe me when I say you don’t want me inside your head.”

I grabbed Duke by the arm and left before Connor had a chance to change his mind. We headed down the driveway to the car.

“He drew blood,” Duke said, pulling his hand off his shoulder and showing me his bloody palm.

“Remember what I said about whining.”

“I didn’t even think it was working, but . . . he drew blood.”

I held up the paper. “But we got what we came for.” My ability was about to be maximized.

“You’re welcome.”

Addie:
Saving Norms from themselves is exhausting.

“Addison?” Trevor walked down the dimly lit hall. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi.” I whirled away from my intent study of his past, displayed in frames on the wall. “I mean, yes. I’m fine.”

“The bathroom is at the very end on the right.”

“Huh? Oh. No, I’m not looking for the bathroom. I’m waiting for your brother. He wanted to show me some pictures he drew.”

He looked over my shoulder to the door behind which Brody had disappeared and smiled. “He likes you.”

Trevor’s smile seemed so genuine that despite what Rowan
had implied, and how I had just witnessed the evidence of its use on Stephanie, it made me smile. “He’s cute.” I pointed to the bedroom. “Your brother.” I bit my lip, not knowing why I felt the need to add the qualifier to that statement. Of course I was talking about his brother.

Trevor looked at his hands and then back up at me, through his amazing lashes. “He doesn’t like a lot of people.”

“Well, I have a slight advantage. . . .”

“You saved him.”

“I was going to say that I know what the
Millennium Falcon
is, but I guess saving him worked too.”

He laughed. “
Star Wars
knowledge is a big advantage.” He tilted his head as if remembering something. “So you really were under the table at the bookstore reading comics.”

I scrunched my nose. “Yes, and just because your brother and I like the same books doesn’t make me immature.”

“No. I’m impressed. I . . .” He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to share whatever he was thinking. I remembered Stephanie saying he was private, so it surprised me when he continued. “I draw comics. Or attempt to.”

“You do? Online somewhere?”

“No. Nothing so public.”

“Wow, that’s cool.” How could he be impressed that I read them, when he wrote them?

“So are you moving to Dallas then?” he asked.

I took the hint—he was ready to change the subject. I’d have to ask him more about his comics later. “No. My dad lives here.
I’m visiting for the holidays. I just needed a break from things.” I regurgitated the story the Compound had approved, like I was reading it off a paper. For a minute I thought he would call me on it.

But he only nodded and didn’t ask for any clarification.

“Duke. I needed a break from Duke.” Why was I telling him this? That definitely wasn’t in my packet. Maybe because I wanted him to know I wasn’t a fan of Duke either. Maybe because he had just shared something personal with me. Maybe because I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about it. Even though I tried not to hold it against her, Laila had been a part of the heartbreak, and I didn’t feel comfortable talking to her about it. Probably because every time I tried she got this guilty expression on her face and couldn’t stop saying sorry. It was easier to talk to a total stranger—especially this total stranger, for some reason. “He was using me.” I hadn’t said that out loud before. It still hurt.

“For what?”

Oh crap.
Well, Trevor, he wanted me to tell him his future
. I couldn’t say that. So what might a Normal guy use a Normal girl for? My face went red as I thought of the main possibility. “Not for that. We weren’t . . . He just needed help . . . with his homework and stuff.” Oh my gosh, that was lame. I’d just made myself and Duke sound like total idiots. “He’s not a good guy.”

“No, he’s not. I’m sorry.”

“
I’m
sorry. About your shoulder.”

He rubbed his shoulder with my mention of it.

“And I didn’t know Duke was in on the whole cheating scheme until recently.” I was getting way off my script, but I didn’t think the Compound accounted for Trevor actually knowing some of the same people I did. It’s not like I could pretend they didn’t exist. But I should have avoided the subject altogether, because Trevor’s eyes went tense.

“In on it?”

“I mean, the plan, whatever that was.”

“To purposely injure people . . .”

“Right.” Warning lights went off in my head. I had just been talking about what Rowan said—the dirty plays, hitting after the whistle—but Trevor seemed to think I meant something more. What did he think he knew, exactly? And how could I make him unthink what he thought he knew? I suddenly realized why Laila was so quick on the draw with her ability. “They’re bullies. They need to grow up.”

He looked at me for so long I wanted to squirm under the stare, tell him,
Whatever you’re thinking is probably right. Someone intensified your injury by using an ability
. Finally, he said, “Duke can go—”

Brody burst out of the room holding a sketchbook. I held Trevor’s stare for a moment, trying to let him know that I understood how he felt about Duke. That I agreed. Brody tugged on my arm, breaking my gaze.

I looked at the drawing. “Wow. You are really good.”

Trevor tousled his hair. “He’s the best.”

The next morning I sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, my laptop open, flash drive plugged in, ready to start a session. But I had distracted myself with a pencil. I kept dropping it over and over again, trying to slow its path to the ground. Slowing down time didn’t seem to be about concentration, because no matter how hard I stared at the pencil, gravity still pulled it to the ground just as fast as always. I knew my dad wanted me to give my ability a rest for a couple of weeks, but the more I thought about that advice, the worse it seemed. I’d never taken a day off from exercising my brain from the time I was five. I just needed to work through this.

I stared at the pencil. Maybe it didn’t work because the pencil wasn’t in peril. That seemed to be the commonality in all the events where time had slowed around me. Bobby had said something about strong bursts of emotions advancing an ability. Maybe that’s when my ability was advancing—when my emotions were heightened.

I stood and walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and flipped on the garbage disposal. “Okay, pencil, your death is imminent.” I held the pencil, tip down, above the sink. Just as I dropped it, my dad walked in, and my heart doubled its beat. The pencil’s path to the sink slowed and I swiped it out of the air, slammed it on the counter, and turned off the garbage disposal. I cringed and kept my back to him. I should’ve just let it fall. Outside the window in front of me, a little girl rode by on her bike at normal speed. My head burst with pain. I leaned into the counter.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounded normal, and I let
out the breath I’d been holding.

Gritting through the pain, I grabbed a dirty plate inside the sink and ran the sponge over it a few times before I spoke. “Cleaning this plate.”

I turned off the water and returned to my computer before he had too much time to assess. Double-clicking on the brain icon, I settled in for some mind expansion, trying to ignore my pounding head.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” My mom had always warned me not to push my ability too hard too soon. She was right. I had obviously damaged something. This was not good. I loosened my shoulders and tried to relax. If heightened emotions were bringing out this ability, I just needed to learn not to let my emotions take over.

“Is your head still bothering you?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been resting your ability?”

“No, not really.”

He let out a frustrated sigh.

“I know. I will.” Starting now. My program filled the screen.

“What is that?”

“Oh, just a morning routine. Mom sent it with me.”

His face hardened for the briefest moment. “Is it a new one?”

“Sort of. I got it a few weeks before I came.”

“You’re not even supposed to have that here.”

“They approved it.” I pointed to the black stick in the computer. “That’s why it’s on a flash drive.”

“This isn’t resting.”

“I don’t really consider this work. It’s a part of my daily routine.”

“Have you been doing it every day since you’ve been here?”

“Not every day.”

“Can I see it?”

I pulled it out and handed it to him. He flipped it over in his hand several times and then held it up to the light. I didn’t understand what he was looking for, but then he said, “Can I . . . will you . . .”

I waited. My dad rarely hesitated on a sentence.

“I’d like to speak with your mother about this.” He pocketed the flash drive without asking my permission and pulled out his phone while he walked away. Nothing worse than parents just laying down the law without explanation.

I sat, frustrated for a moment, then followed after him. If he wasn’t going to tell me why he did that, I’d find out on my own. And by “on my own” I meant “eavesdropping.”

I pressed my ear to his closed door and advanced my hearing. He was midsentence. “. . . had discussed this. No more experimental programs. Let it go, Marissa, she’s developing fine.” Long pause. “No, but I want to. I still think we should.” Another long pause. “Of course she’ll be angry, but better now than later.” He grunted. “That’s not true. And if we’re going to talk about unfair advantages, I think you have them all, from her friends to her school.”

I was so lost, but that didn’t stop me from listening.

“No, I told you I’d wait, and I’ll wait. But we need to tell her soon. . . . . Stumble upon it? I don’t think so. I pulled some strings and got it moved into Pioneer Plaza just in case for some reason she ended up at the local cemetery with a friend.”

Cemetery? What was going on? I wanted to burst into the room and force my dad to tell me what he was talking about. But at the same time all my limbs were frozen with the thought that they were keeping something huge from me. The last time they’d sat me down, it was to tell me they were getting a divorce. I wasn’t sure I could handle their secrets on their terms anymore. My dad hung up the phone, and I backed away from his door.

I dialed Stephanie’s number and slipped into my room.

“Hi, Addie.”

“Hey.” I shut myself in the closet for the added layer of sound protection, not that I thought my dad would spy on me, but just in case.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. I have a question. What’s Pioneer Plaza?”

“Pioneer Plaza? Downtown?”

I fingered the sleeve on one of my hanging shirts. “I guess.”

“It’s a park that has all these bronze statues of cowboys and bulls. I think it’s supposed to be like a tribute to the pioneers who settled Dallas or something.”

What?
“Do you think you could take me there sometime this week?”

“I have cheer practice all week. I would take you after, but it’s probably not a good idea to go downtown after dark. How about next week?”

“Yeah. Okay.” But next week wasn’t soon enough for me. Maybe I could borrow my dad’s car and go by myself . . . and get lost and mugged and kidnapped. Well, maybe not those last two, but definitely the first one.

It took me a minute to realize Stephanie was in the middle of a sentence. I tried to catch up. She was telling a story about cheer and some girl named Lindsey. I was completely lost until she said, “So Lindsey thinks Trevor might still like me. What do you think?”

“Do you still like him?” I already knew the answer, but I wondered if she had admitted it to herself yet.

“I don’t know anymore. I don’t want to, but we have this history together, you know? And it’s hard to just erase history.”

“True.”
It’s actually very easy
, I thought. “You want my honest opinion?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I think you should give yourself some space from him. Let yourself live without him for a while. I bet you’ll realize you’re happier that way.” I didn’t want to say,
Because I saw the way he was with you, and it wasn’t promising
. That would’ve been heartless. But she had to feel it. One-sided relationships didn’t feel right. And she’d see that once she got into a healthier relationship where someone appreciated her more.

She sighed. “You’re probably right. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime.”

“I gotta run. My dad is calling on the other line.”

“From downstairs?” I asked with a laugh.

“Yes, he’s such a weirdo,” she said, laughing as well.

“Have fun.”

“Bye, Addie, and thanks again.”

I hung up and looked at the phone for a minute, then dialed Laila’s number. It had been a few days since I’d spoken to her.

“Addie. Hey.”

“My dad just stole my flash drive and is keeping a secret hidden from me at a park full of bronze bulls,” I said without a formal greeting.

“Whoa. What?”

“My dad is keeping secrets from me, and they have to do with a DAA program, a cemetery, and pioneer statues.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“If I knew that, they wouldn’t be secrets.”

“Oh, the secret kind of secrets. Why didn’t you clarify?”

I smiled. “I have to figure it out. Do you happen to still have Rowan’s phone number?”

“Rowan . . .” She trailed off, and I could tell she was trying to remember who he was again.

“You know, the guy whose memory you Erased.”

“Oh, Norm Rowan with the exceptionally good kissing abilities.”

“Too much information, but yes.”

“Yeah. Why? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“I don’t like him, but I’m going to see if he’ll take me to the fake bulls.” I hadn’t planned on asking Rowan; I had hardly talked to him at all. But he had offered to show me around town, and I decided to take him up on that.

“Good call.” Laila gave me Rowan’s number. “And since we’re on the subject, I’ve been thinking about trying to advance my ability.”

“Um, we weren’t on that subject at all.”

“Wait for it. It really does relate. Connor.”

“The guy who almost hit me with his motorcycle?”

“Yes.”

“What does Connor have to do with DAA programs and bull cemeteries?”

“Well, he has nothing to do with cemeteries, but Connor is the one who always sells me the black market programs.”

“You mean tries and then fails to sell you those programs.”

“Uh, sure, okay. I got Connor to tell me who the creator of these advancement programs is. Now I just need to meet him . . . or her.”