by Laura Winter
Despite everything in my body telling me to turn around, we followed them inside to a pristine living room, sitting on the couch as the two of them sat in the chairs opposite of us. Aidan kept his eyes locked on Clara, which only made me more antsy, but I did my best to keep a level head. Clara wanted answers, and if they were going to give them, I wasn’t going to stand in the way.
Richard cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, young man. I didn’t get your name.”
“Nate, sir.”
“Nate, I’m so thankful you’ve brought Finnley home. I’m not sure how you found her after all these months.”
“I don’t understand,” I replied.
“Finnley has a habit of running off when she has an episode.”
“Who is Finnley?” Clara asked, her mind spinning so quickly that her thoughts were making me sick.
“That’s your name, sweetheart. This is your house,” Richard replied, almost mechanically. “It’s okay. You’ll reorient yourself soon enough.”
‘F’, Clara whispered in her thoughts.
I shook my head and turned back to Richard. “What do you mean by ‘episode’?”
He took a breath and pressed his palms together. “Finnley has a brain tumor. Recently, her mood changes and hallucinations have gotten worse, and there seems to be more frequent and bigger memory losses affecting her. When she’s disoriented, she often runs away in her confusion. What is it she believes again?”
Aidan didn’t break his gaze away from Clara. “She has a recurring hallucination about a place called The Complex. Finn believes she has powers, but really she just hears voices. A symptom of the tumor and medications, unfortunately.”
Aidan’s look was starting to feel less like a loving stare and more like… lust? Maybe it was my anger and confusion about the situation, but the air around us was starting to feel thick. None of it made any sense. She was actually reading my mind and had telekinetic abilities. She had powers and a scar to prove it, not including our very clear telepathic connection. Were these men really that ignorant? Did she actually have a brain tumor that caused her memory loss? Or were they lying?
Clara stared blankly ahead, seemingly lost in thoughts I couldn’t hear. I turned back to Richard. “We saw on the news about Elizabeth. That was her mother?”
Richard frowned. “Yes. Ellie went to find Finnley, but it seems there was a man who had the same idea. I don’t know what happened, but if Finnley is having an episode and you don’t approach her the right way, her outbursts can get violent.”
There was the hole in Richard’s story. Clara had talked about the Blue Star causing headache outbursts like the library and the note in her desk. These people were lying.
C, we need to get out of here.
That’s not my name. They have the answers. I must have imagined the whole thing.
I tried to hide my surprise, not expecting her to fall for that lie as easily as she was. I needed to buy time to get her out of here, but how?
“So, Richard, I gather you are her dad,” I said, glancing over to Aidan. “And you are?”
“Her boyfriend, at least when she’s acting like herself,” he replied, his eyes still trained on Clara. The same thick air settled around us again, but it wasn’t just a feeling. I could see it, and I could see it pushing out from around his body. He had powers, and whatever they were, it wasn’t working on me.
Richard stood up and pulled my attention away. “Nate, I appreciate you bringing her back to us. I’m sure you have somewhere to be now, and we don’t want to keep you any longer.”
I kept myself planted in my seat, trying to find a way to delay or get us out of this, but all I could think of were stupid questions.
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I have a question. Cl—Finnley was so convinced that her powers were real. After what I’ve seen, are you sure they aren’t?”
“Real?” Richard scoffed, hiding a smile as he shook his head. “She hallucinates and loses her memory. There is a simple explanation. Now, if I can show you out, it seems Finnley is getting tired and we need to get her back on her medication.”
He remained standing, waiting impatiently for me to get up, but I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t leave Clara here with them, not when it was clear that the muggy air was part of a trick Aidan was using to keep her disoriented.
C, I need you to do something. We’re out of time.
Don’t you see? I made it up. The voices lie.
I couldn’t keep my promise to her because there was no other way to get her out the door. I grabbed Clara’s hand and sank into a shadow, watching the shock and anger on Richard and Aidan’s faces as I slid out of the house. I moved across the street, pushing Clara out of the shadow and onto the hood of the car. I popped out and slammed into the car with my shoulder before rolling off to the side. I forced myself off the ground, ignoring the pain in my arm as Clara remained limp on the hood. Scooping her into my arms, I shoved her through the driver’s door before jumping in after her.
Aidan and Richard ran out into the front yard, glaring at us as I drove away as fast as the car would go.
26
Clara
“Nate!”
I launched myself forward, regretting it immediately as my head split with pain. I needed to throw up, but the room was spinning so fast I had no idea where to go. I rolled off whatever soft surface I was on and landed on something hard.
“Hey, slow down.”
It was Nate’s voice, but there were a million echoes ringing through my head, banging against my already painful headache. He tried to get me to stand but my legs crumpled and I dropped back down to the floor. As I started to cry from the pain, Nate gathered me in his arms.
“Nate, my head. Make it stop,” I said, clutching at his shirt as he lifted me up. I’m not sure where we were going, but the movement made me sick. I shoved my head into his chest as hard as I could, hoping the pressure would help. I couldn’t have another explosion like the library. Not when Nate was here.
He set me down on a cold surface, and without letting me go, I felt the cold water from the shower pour over us. Nate sat still as he held me, letting the water roll over us and soak our clothes.
The pain started to die down. I’m not sure how long it took, but I slowly released the death grip I had on Nate’s shirt. His heartbeat pounded through his chest and against my cheek until I could focus again. I kept my eyes closed, afraid to open them and see spots or lose control.
“I’m so sorry, Nate,” I whispered.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked, his voice quiet and gentle as I focused on his heartbeat slowing down.
“I don’t know what happened. Everything they said was a lie, but for some reason, I believed them. How is that possible?”
Nate lifted his hand up and held my face against his chest. “Whatever Aidan did was making you believe them. I don’t know what power that was, but I could see it in the air.”
“But it didn’t affect you?”
“No… I don’t know why, but it didn’t,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I had to get you out of there.”
“I know,” I replied. I reached back and turned off the water but still sat there, pressed into Nate’s chest as I got the courage to open my eyes. I focused on the shower curtain, confused as to how we could be in my bathroom. As I reached out to touch it, I saw three of my hand so I pulled it back.
“You know,” Nate said, taking his hand off my face as he wrapped it through my fingers. “Your house doesn’t have doorknobs.”
I tried to hide my smile. “Yeah. How did you get in?”
“The door opened for me. I’ve seen enough crazy in the last two days that it didn’t even seem weird.”
“I think House is magic,” I replied, squeezing Nate’s hand. “I’m glad he likes you.”
“Well, I won’t say that exactly. I did carry you home unconscious. That’s probably why I keep walking into invisible walls.”
I started to push myself up slowly, bracing against Nate to st
and up. He grunted uncomfortably as I pulled my hand back, noticing the red blood around his right shoulder.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
Nate tried to shake it off. “I’m fine. I just got it when I threw us out of the shadows back there. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes it is. Come on, I think I can stand. I’ll help get it wrapped.”
Nate helped me up and I pulled out the first aid kit under the sink. I didn’t care that our clothes were dripping water everywhere, or that my shoes squished with each step across the floor as I sat Nate down in my desk chair. I looked over to the bed and saw the stack of dry clothes House had set out for him.
Nate struggled to peel the shirt away from his gash but eventually got it off as red blood started rolling down his arm. After dealing with my bloody arm twice, it was strange to see a normal colored wound. I dried his shoulder and wrapped it as best I could. The only other practice I had was on my own arm, and I was terrible at that too.
He pulled me into his lap, kissing along my neck as his arms wrapped around my waist.
I wiggled against him, feeling the stick of our clothes. “Do you need help changing?”
“Are you offering?” he asked, his breath tickling my skin.
I couldn’t bring myself to roll my eyes so I just stood up, bracing against the desk as he tried to balance me. The dull echo of my headache made everything but him blurry, but I could see how calm he looked. It was like we hadn’t just run away from two people who were manipulating me and like I hadn’t almost torn my room to shreds in an outburst.
“Don’t you have to get home to your dad?”
He frowned. “I don’t really think you should be by yourself right now.”
I shook my head. “He already doesn’t like me after our breakup, and now after this morning when he caught us together, I can’t stay on his bad side. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think you are, but you do have a point about my dad. I can’t break curfew if I want to see the light of day again.”
He stood up and walked over to the pile of clean clothes, laughing as he motioned for me to turn around after he caught me staring.
I made my way to the closet, balancing carefully. Whatever Aidan had done to my head was wearing off, but I still didn’t feel great. I threw my clothes on the ground in a sopping mess and changed into a big shirt, sweats, and socks. As I wrung my hair on the floor, House creaked in disapproval.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
I peeled the bandage off my arm, desperate to give it some air. It felt weird to wear a shirt without sleeves, even when I was home alone, but now Nate knew everything. After all we had gone through since the Blue Star, even since the volleyball game, we kept finding a way to be with each other.
Yikes, the volleyball game. All of those terrible emotions came back, but I shoved them down when I thought about that kiss. The last time we had kissed… before everything turned to shit.
I walked out as Nate was struggling to lift his arm through the sleeve of his shirt.
“Really?” I laughed. “There’s an easier way to do that.”
He sat, annoyed, as I pulled the shirt off and threaded it through his arms first so he wouldn’t have to lift them. He held onto my hips, not letting go even after I finished dressing him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
I placed my hand on his cheek, momentarily distracting myself as I saw the scar that I so willingly left out in the open. Nate didn’t seem to mind as he pulled it away from his cheek and traced his fingers around the cut.
I sighed. “I don’t think I am okay. I don’t know what my dad and Aidan were up to, but now I know that I was running away from them. And probably that guy in the clearing too. I think what bothers me the most is that I don’t know what side my mom was on. Was she trying to help me or catch me?”
Nate stood up quickly, letting my hand drop as he reached around my neck. He leaned down and kissed me, pulling me tighter against his body. My questions and worries melted as I relaxed into him. There were things I might never learn, but being here in this moment reminded me that I had something good again.
He pulled back, a frown on his face.
My eyes widened. “Did I do something wrong? What is it?”
“So, that guy said he was your boyfriend…”
I laughed and kissed him again, just as a text alert went off on his phone. One glance and I could see his dad was asking when he’d be home.
“You don’t have to worry, Nate. Everything he said was a lie. Even if I can’t remember who he was, he’s not my type.”
“Your type isn’t tall, muscular guys who look like they are Olympic athletes?” he asked.
“Nate, you’re my type. Do you have a type I should look out for?”
He laughed and kissed my forehead. “You’ve read my mind before and you know damn well what Glitch always thinks when he sees us.”
27
Nate
Clara spent the weekend cleaning up the library she had torn to shreds on Thursday night. It was hard not to spend time with her after a month apart, but my dad needed help around the house as he moved back in permanently. Part of me was glad someone would be here to stay, but it was going to suck having to follow all his rules. Even harder would be hiding my powers, the new mark on my palm, and everything that was happening to Clara. My shoulder being cut up didn’t help the situation either, especially as the bruise darkened around my skin.
Sunday night couldn’t come fast enough. I was actually looking forward to going back to school so it wouldn’t feel like a lockdown at the house. Since Friday morning, Dad hadn’t asked about Clara or even referenced her, but I knew it was going to happen eventually. Maybe he was just trying to cool off after finding us sleeping together.
He set the last two plates of leftover Thanksgiving food at the table and leaned back in his chair. “So, you and this Clara girl. You never told me how you guys worked it all out.”
“We talked through some stuff. I already told you nothing happened after that. We just fell asleep,” I replied, feeling the embarrassment creeping up again.
He smiled. “I’m glad you both figured it out. I’d like to meet her again under different circumstances. So, tell me a little bit more. What do you like about her?”
“A lot more than her height and purple hair.” I shoved a piece of turkey in my mouth, surprised I had said that to my dad.
He didn’t seem to mind. “It just surprised me, that’s all. I wasn’t prepared to find out my son finally had a girlfriend, or that you had gotten back together so quickly, especially after seeing you sulking around for a month.
“Wow, rude that me having a girlfriend is surprising to you,” I grumbled. “And if you must know, we share a lot in common. Same taste in movies, music, and our mutual tolerance of Glitch.”
He chuckled. “That’s a rare find indeed. But you’ve never mentioned her before this year. Where did all this come from?”
“We met the first day of school. She’s a new student,” I said. I regretted my natural reaction to shrug, feeling the pain shoot down my arm.
He leaned forward and set his fork down, looking suspicious, but not because of my arm. “Interesting. Transfer student?”
“Home-schooled. Why does that matter?” I asked, making a mental note to remember these answers so we could keep our story straight in the future.
“Just curious about her. I don’t want you getting sucked in with the wrong crowd,” Dad replied, studying me for a few extra seconds.
I instinctively gripped my right hand tighter, hoping to continue hiding the blue scar on my palm. “If anything, Glitch and I are the wrong crowd for her. Clara could have easily made the volleyball team and joined the popular crowd.”
I should have seen it coming sooner and prepared for the motion. Dad finished his water and stood up to refill it, pressing his hand into my cut shoulder as he walked by. I winced and let out a gasp, and this time, he noti
ced.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
“Just… sore from Friday. The three of us went out to throw a ball around,” I said. Shit, that was a nice save.
Well, it would have been if Dad hadn’t pulled the sleeve of my shirt up immediately and saw the bloodied bandage on my arm. He gripped my shirt tighter as I tried to wiggle away.
“Want to try again?” he asked, his tone suddenly angry.
“Dad, it’s fine.”
“Did that girl get you in some sort of trouble? Girls like that always mix with the wrong crowd,” he growled, picking off the bandage as he inspected the cut.