Pivot Point

Page 24

Duke, who’s standing behind me, slips his arms around my waist. “Are you nervous?”
I relax back into him, and his breath tickles the hair on my neck. I can feel his heartbeat against my back. “Not anymore.”
“Good. We’ll fix this. He probably just gets a kick out of scaring people. Especially pretty young girls.”
“I guess.”
Laila comes back out and motions for us to follow her to the living room. The cell phone is in her hand, and she scrolls through his phone book.
“Addie, put his number in your phone.”
“Okay.” I wait, phone ready.
She tells me the number, and I enter it into my contacts attached to the name Freakshow.
“More like Dead Freakshow, if I ever see him again,” Duke says, looking over my shoulder.
I elbow him.
“Okay, I’m going to put this back.” She leaves, and I stare at the numbers on my phone. This all seems so pointless.
“What’s wrong?” Duke asks.
“We have a number, but now what? It’s not like we can call him up and ask him to tell us all about himself.”
“No. But my best friend happens to know how to hack into computer systems. It’s one of the perks of his ability.”
“Really? Who?”
“Bobby.”
I groan. “Bobby? Are you serious? I don’t think we should share this with him. I don’t trust him.” I still haven’t told Duke about what Bobby did to me in my Search. I wonder if I should, if he’ll think I’m overreacting. It’s hard for people to understand how real my “memories” are. Laila’s the only person who knows what Bobby did … would’ve done … to me. The night I told her, she held my hand and asked me if I wanted her to wipe his memories and turn him into a drooling vegetable. I said no, but just the thought made me feel better.
Duke pushes a button on his cell phone, then spins it once before pocketing it. “Well, I trust him. And right now, we could use his help.”
“Right now?” I look at my phone. It’s past eleven.
“Yep, I just texted him. Bobby stays up late.”
Laila walks back out, and Duke says, “We’re going to Bobby’s to see if he can dig up any information on this guy.”
Laila’s eyes dart to mine. “We are?” She searches my face, probably looking for any signs of resistance.
I want to give them, but I just shrug and say, “Yes, I can’t think of a better idea, or believe me I would.”
“Okay then, let’s go.”
We pull up in front of Bobby’s house, and my blood runs cold. I’ve never been inside except in my Search. As I stare at the large oak tree in his front yard the memory of Bobby’s eyes boring into mine while we sat in his car comes into my mind. I remember wondering how we had ended up in front of his house in the first place when he was supposed to drive me home.
“My mom wanted to meet you,” he had said.
“Oh, okay.” But no one had been in his house. It was dark, and I felt uncomfortable. “Where is your mom?”
A smile crept onto his face, and he sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.
My instincts told me to leave, but his green eyes softened.
“Come sit next to me.”
I didn’t want to be rude, and the dance had been fun. I sat down, and his arm snaked around my neck, his hand instantly finding my collarbone, tracing a slow line along it and then lower.
“I don’t think so,” I said, grabbing his hand and using it to remove his arm from my neck, then hanging on to it for good measure.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like me?” His free hand went to my thigh, where his fingers dug into my skin.
“Ouch, Bobby. Knock it off.” I tried to stand, but he held on to my leg and pinned my shoulder with his.
For a moment I was frozen in shock, unable to believe what was really happening. His mouth found mine, rough and uncaring as his hand continued to travel upward. The sound of the skirt of my dress ripping and the feel of his hand brought me out of my shock, and I kneed Bobby hard. Holding together my ripped dress, I ran out of his house, my eyes stinging.
Now, in the car with Duke and Laila, those feelings are back. I try to push them aside as I step out of the car, not wanting Duke to think I can’t handle this. I can handle this. Bobby doesn’t control me. Laila must sense how I feel, because she’s at my side immediately, grabbing hold of my hand.
Bobby opens the front door before we even knock. I don’t like the way his eyes travel over me as if he, too, remembers the Search and enjoys tormenting me with it. But I know he doesn’t remember; only I get that privilege.
Bobby leads us into a back room, which I’m glad isn’t as familiar as the family room we passed. “I got started with the number you gave me. His name is Steve Paxton.” In the corner of the room, computers light up the wall.
“Your house is like a tomb,” Laila says. “Don’t you have sensors?” She waves her hands over her head, but nothing happens. “Bobby,” she says in exasperation, and he points at the wall. She finds a switch and flips it on. When the overhead light flickers to life, the breath I didn’t realize I was holding slowly seeps through my lips.
“It’s after eleven,” Bobby says. “It’s not like I traipse around the house with all the lights on. Especially when I’m the only one home.”
“So, what did you find out?” Duke asks, pointing to one of the screens, where a seedy-looking picture of Poison fills one corner of the monitor.
Bobby sits down at the desk. “Not much. He’s been arrested a few times for enhancers, but that’s about it. What exactly were you hoping to find out about him?”
“If he’s dangerous,” Duke says.
“He seems fairly harmless,” Bobby says.
So does Bobby, but I know what he’s capable of. “Are you sure? Is that the only place you looked?”
Bobby narrows his eyes at me. “I think the police station is a pretty good place to look. But I guess I can check the library to see if he has any outstanding late fees. Knowing you, that would help.”
“You don’t know me,” I say quietly.
“No need to be a jerk,” Laila says. “She was just asking. What about his address? Were you able to find that?”
“Yeah.” He pulls out a piece of paper from the desk drawer and writes down the address, then hands it to Duke.
“Thanks.” Duke slaps him on the back.
My eyes have found the screen again and can’t look away from the image of Poison. My mind goes back to the way he had forced me to step forward, held me there without hands. I don’t understand that kind of power. It’s nothing like my mom’s, who Persuades me to do things. If I try hard enough, and recognize what she’s doing, I can fight against her influence. But with Poison, I hadn’t wanted to move forward, and yet he made me. I was totally at his mercy.
“Did you want to hang out, or are you going to leave with your boyfriend?” Bobby asks. I look around the room and realize Duke and Laila are on their way out. I whirl around and head for the door.
“What did I do to you?” Bobby asks from behind me.
I stop.
“What did you see me do that changed the way you look at me?”
“I saw who you really are.”
“Then why did you come here tonight?” He sounds far away and small.
“Because for some reason Duke trusts you.” I run out of the room and catch up with Duke. He slides his arm across my shoulder and kisses my temple. I cuddle into him.
“So what are we doing now?” I ask.
“Surveillance.”
CHAPTER 22
phe-NO[R]M-e-non: n. someone who thinks his existence is an impressive occurrence
I’ve been staring out the window for the last two hours, even though Laila told me she probably wouldn’t get here until six, just enough time to freshen up and get to the football game. It’s been almost a month since I’ve been gone, but it feels like I haven’t seen her in an eternity.
When a truck pulls up in front of the house, I race out the door. She’s halfway up the walk by the time we reach each other. Neither one of us is a squealer, but we embrace and proceed to jump up and down screaming.
She pulls away.
I point. “You’re wearing sunglasses.”
“That’s because it’s insanely bright here. Crazy story. I stopped at a gas station, feeling mentally tired, and like an idiot I asked the guy behind the register if they had any Brain Food. He looked at me all weird, and I remembered that huge lecture we got before leaving the Compound about not letting things slip, so I Erased a minute of his memory.”
“You did not.”
She laughs. “Totally did. I thought I was going to have to zap the whole store, but there was only one other woman, and she was distracted putting this nasty-looking hot dog into a bun. There was a rack of sunglasses next to the register, so I grabbed a pair and bought them. Hopefully feeling them on my face will make me think more like a Norm.”
I smile. “Have I told you how much I miss you yet?”
“I miss you too. When are you coming home?”
“Come on, let’s get your stuff, and I’ll show you around.” I help her pull out a bag from the truck bed. “You rented a truck?”
“Yeah, sure, me and all my money. No. I borrowed this from that guy who rebuilds useless Norm crap.”
“Obviously not so useless after all.”
“Funny. That’s what he said when I was scanning over the rest of my monthly allowance if he let me use it. I mean, I know we can’t have Para-tech out here, but seriously?” She pounds the tailgate.
Inside my dad hugs Laila. “Good to see you again. How is life at home?” He grabs the duffel bag off her shoulder and slings it over his own. I smile, loving that my dad treats Laila like a daughter. I hope that in some small way it makes up for the fact that her father doesn’t.
“If I said fine, you’d know I was lying, so I’ll just say same as always.”
“Keep your chin up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go get ready,” I say.
“Where are you girls going?” my dad asks.
“Remember, I told you we’re going to the football game?”
“Oh, that’s right.” He leads the way down the hall, deposits the bag in my room, and leaves us to get ready.
“For an older guy, your dad is hot,” Laila says, staring at the door he just shut.
“Gross.” So much for thinking of him like a father.
“I’m just saying.” Laila moves her bag onto my bed, opens it, and pulls out several papers. “Tell me you love me,” she says, presenting them to me.
“What is …” I start to ask, but then realize it’s an alphabetical list of all the kids at school. Next to the names are their abilities. “You are awesome.”
“I’ve highlighted the football players,” she says.
I meet her eyes. “And?”