by Sarah Biglow
I looked up from the computer screen. “How did you find me?”
He stopped short of the table. “I ran into Declan who said he saw you outside. I took a guess you might hang around and the library is the safest hiding spot for someone who technically isn’t supposed to be here. If you want to be by yourself, I can go.”
I shook my head. “No, you can stay.”
Spencer was still apprehensive as he perched on the edge of the chair opposite me. I closed the computer so there were no distractions between us. “No offense, but your friends are kind of nosy,” I commented.
“Believe me, I know.” He studied the faux wood grain on the table, clearly trying to figure out how to say what came next. “There’s something you need to know. Tina and Declan would kill me if they knew I told you but … I can’t keep this from you. Not anymore.”
“Is this about what you went through when you started high school?”
“Yes,” his voice cracked at the end of the word.
I dragged the chair around to sit beside him and took his hands in mine. “If you aren’t ready, you don’t have to let me in. I can be patient.”
He let out a nervous laugh. “Part of me wants to keep it hidden forever. Part of you wants that, too. Keep the mystery alive. But you being in the dark is dangerous.”
How does he know that? “What do you mean, dangerous?”
Spencer swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “This is going to sound absolutely insane but hear me out. Tina, Declan, and I are different. We have these … abilities. Like superpowers. And I’m pretty sure you do, too.”
I waited for the punchline, for him to admit this was a stupid prank his friends put him up to, but the look on his face told me this was no joke. Deep inside I felt his sincerity.
“You’re telling the truth. So, what? You’re like the X-Men?”
“Kind of. We have no idea where these powers came from. Tina’s been trying to figure it out since we discovered them. So far she’s come up empty.”
“What can you do?”
He sighed. “I can read minds. I don’t do it to invade people’s privacy. Usually, I hear people in distress.”
His username suddenly made so much sense and I let out a giggle. “You’ve been trying to tell me that since we started messaging. Your username says it all.”
“Actually, I made that username before my powers manifested. As you know, I’m kind of a Patrick Stewart fanboy.”
“Oh, I remember,” I said, sobering up. “Tell what I’m thinking right now.” I tried to focus on something that would be nearly impossible to guess unless he was telling the truth.
Spencer looked up a half smile on his lips. “The first pet your dad bought you after your mom died was a goldfish when you were four. You named it Flounder after the fish in the Little Mermaid.”
My mouth hung open. “Oh … shit.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“How did you learn you could do this? Do your parents know?”
“It happened when I hit puberty. Suddenly, I could hear people in my head. No, my parents don’t know. And you can’t tell your dad.”
“Why not? If this is happening to me shouldn’t he know? Maybe he can help.”
“Help how? What could he do?”
“I don’t know. Control it? Get rid of it?”
“I don’t think it’s something you can get rid of,” he said, his voice falling to a hush.
“How do you know?” I pressed.
“I don’t. But it feels like it’s always been a part of me. Something I can’t change. Like the color of my skin or my eyes.”
“What if I don’t want to read minds?” I countered.
“I think your power’s different. Earlier, with Tina, you picked up on what she was feeling right?”
“Yes.”
“And you said when that thing happened with Jason you said you felt like you wanted to make him happy.”
“What are you saying?” I had an idea, but I wanted to hear him say it out loud.
“Maybe you can feel what people feel. Like … empathy.”
His words made sense, but I didn’t want this power. What had I done to deserve this burden? Without warning, emotions crashed over me like a tidal wave. Spencer’s relief at telling me, mixed with anxiety about my reaction, and fear about what his friends would say when they found out. There was also an undercurrent of worry as if he’d ruined things between us and would never find the right girl.
“Whoa.”
His smile faded. “You can feel I’m right.” He scooted back a little. “And I’m completely overwhelming you right now.”
“I don’t know what to do with this information.” I laid my head in my arms and took slow breaths.
“I can leave you alone,” he said.
I felt his leg brush mine as he stood up. “No, please stay,” I whispered.
“I’m hurting you. I can see it.”
I looked at him. “You can show me how to control it. Besides, you’re wrong.”
“About what?”
“This doesn’t ruin what we have. Whatever is happening, we have a connection. Maybe it’s these powers or maybe it’s that we really do fit together.”
Relief washed over him, and he sunk back into the chair. “I’d say you have no idea how I feel, but I’d be lying.”
I balled my hands into tight fists to try and keep the emotions at bay. It didn’t work. Without a word, Spencer slipped one finger beneath my chin and lifted my head, so our eyes met. I looked at him, committing every contour to memory.
“Breathe,” he murmured.
Inhale. Exhale.
With each exhale his torrent of emotions ebbed from the forefront of my mind until my feelings remained. They were no less complex, but I could sense they were mine.
“Better?” He had to know the answer, but I appreciated the pretense.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“What can Tina and Declan do?”
“I think it’s better if I let them tell you. Go down to the basement after classes are out. There’s an unused computer lab. It’s kind of our base of operations. I promise we’ll explain everything then.”
“I’ll be there.” I leaned over and hugged Spencer. A momentary spike of longing passed between us, but it faded as he pulled away and left me to come to terms with the fact that we were both living in a comic book.
Chapter Eleven
Spencer
Tina may still be pissed at me, but Marisol knew the truth, and she hadn’t pushed me away. The fact she had abilities like the rest of us was icing on the cake. Our powers complimented one another, and I could share all of myself with her now. No more hiding. Except you weren’t completely honest with her. I tried to rationalize I didn’t need to tell her about the ability to control people. I wasn’t sure that’s what happened anyway.
The basement hallways were nearly empty by the time I raced through them at the end of school bell and grabbed the chair that was likely developing a permanent imprint of my ass in the computer lab. Declan sauntered in through the hallway entrance, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
“You work things out?” he asked, not making eye contact.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Good.”
My stomach started twisting in nervous knots as the clock ticked on. Every second Marisol didn’t appear was another moment I worried she had been putting on a brave face for me and I’d never see her again. Finally, Marisol appeared.
“So, this is mission control?” she asked.
Declan paled. Sweat popped out along my hairline.
“You told her?” Tina’s voice rang out from the hallway.
All three of us turned to look at the blue-haired hacker. She stepped into the room, the door slamming behind her, and she marched to her usual spot. She kicked my chair for good measure.
“Only about what I can do,” I answered.
Tina appraised Marisol
who stood in the middle of the room, backpack slung over one shoulder. I held my breath waiting for our tech guru’s assessment.
“I’m not your competition,” Marisol said.
“Whatever,” Tina mumbled.
“You clearly have some sort of system going and I don’t want to get in the middle of that. But, if I … we all have these powers, I want to know why.”
“And what exactly is it you think you can do?” Tina snapped.
“I can feel what people feel. Like an empath. I know Spencer said his started in puberty. I guess that’s when I really started feeling things. But I didn’t grow up here. How could I have these powers, too?”
“Tina thinks there are others out there with powers,” Declan interjected.
Tina looked at me. I heard the question in my head. “Can we trust her?”
I nodded. “We have to stick together. Now more than ever.”
“Why exactly?” This was the chattiest Declan had been in a while.
“Because I think someone is after Marisol.” I looked at her, “your ex. He has to be here for a reason. And now, when you found those discs. It isn’t a coincidence.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Spence,” Tina said.
“You weren’t there. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more terrified,” Marisol said, sinking into one of the vacant chairs to my right.
“What’d this guy do to you?” Of course, Tina’s interest would spike at the tragedy of others. One more thing to make her feel more important.
“I … don’t want to talk about it. It’s a part of my life I wanted to leave behind me. He’s not supposed to be able to find me.”
“Well, have you seen him again?”
“No, but I have to believe he’s still out there.”
“If he’s after Marisol, that means he could be coming after all of us,” I commented.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. No one made eye contact.
“So, what exactly do you do with your abilities?” Marisol finally asked.
“We save people. It’s why I took off the other day,” I admitted.
“You go out there and fight bad guys? Wouldn’t everyone know about you?”
Declan reached into his bag and pulled out his mask. “Not if they don’t see us. Course, it only works if some people don’t go around exposing themselves.”
“A little girl had nearly been kidnapped and two guys in masks show up. How else was I supposed to calm her down?” I argued.
“Not the point, boys,” Tina interrupted. “We have a functioning unit. We decided to put what we could do to good use.”
“I want to help.”
“We don’t need your particular skillset in the field. Not when we’ve got Spencer as our human homing beacon and Declan is our muscle with hands of steel. And I coordinate things from here.”
“And what exactly is it you can do?”
Tina held out a hand and the nearby mouse leapt into the air. I rolled my eyes. “Just think of her like Magneto with a less tragic past.”
“Got it,” she said.
I eyed Tina. “I can hear people, but I don’t know why they feel what they do. Marisol would help calm people down.”
A part of me wanted Marisol out of harm’s way. Safe with Tina behind a computer screen and away from scary men with guns. And ex-boyfriends with creepy neck tattoos. But it wasn’t my right to bench her. If she wanted to join the fight, well we could use the help.
“You don’t know how to control your powers. You’d be a liability. Besides, I thought you were on some sort of treasure hunt with that book,” Tina scoffed.
“I am.” Something dawned in her brain, but it was there and gone too fast for me to catch it. “Does your mother ever use a nickname?”
“What?” Declan, Tina, and I chorused in unison.
Marisol pulled the book from the front flap of her bag and opened it to the title page with the inscription. “The person who was given this book, what if “Lena” is a nickname or a shortening of a longer name.”
“Longer name like what?” Tina sounded nervous.
“Helena.”
“Where’d you come up with Helena?” Declan interjected.
“Her mother.” Marisol gestured to Tina with the book. “I was looking on the library website and I noticed her name is Helena. Lena could have been a pet name for whoever gave this to her. And isn’t it strange she took over managing the library not long before Tina came along?”
“Why would my mother have some genetics book?” Tina scoffed.
“You could ask her,” Marisol suggested.
“God forbid you actually engage with her,” I snickered, earning myself a smack to the arm.
“My mother is a lame town bureaucrat. There’s not an interesting bone in her body.”
“How would you know? You never went looking,” I reminded her.
Tina rolled her eyes. “Okay, say you’re right and this was my mother’s. Why would she keep it somewhere people could easily find it?”
Marisol and I exchanged a glance. “We think someone who works at the library knew it was there. You had me get the books out of the return. Who usually gets them?”
“I don’t know. Probably Henry.”
“Why don’t we split up and do a little digging,” I said, hoping to stop Tina from lashing out.
“Let me guess, you and Marisol team up,” Tina drawled.
While I wouldn’t say no to alone time, it wasn’t the best division of resources. This mystery was getting more complicated and it needed all of us to untangle. “Actually, I was thinking you and Marisol go to the library and look around. See if there’s anything out of place. Talk to Henry and see if you can find out anything from your mom.”
“And what will you be doing?” Tina glared at me.
Marisol’s comment about Mrs. Boudreau’s management of the library stuck in my mind. Sure, there were plenty of places and statues in town dedicated to our founders. I’d always assumed the library had been there and changed hands. But, what if it hadn’t? “Declan and I are going to Town Hall to do some digging of our own.”
“We are?”
“Yes. Now, we should meet back at the library in a couple hours and see what we’ve discovered.”
Tina gaped at me. She was not used to being given orders. Well, she could suck it up because I wasn’t going to let anything else happen to Marisol. I pushed back from the row of computers and looped my backpack over both shoulders. I started for the hallway exit, waiting for Declan to fall into step. He trailed behind me until we were out of the room and down the hall, so our voices wouldn’t carry.
“When did you grow a pair, Sorano?”
“I guess I’ve never had something to fight for.”
“I know I should be offended but, I’m not.”
“You and Tina are great. But we aren’t friends. Not really. We didn’t choose to hang out together because we like each other. Tina forced us into this little collective.”
“You chose to stay and so did I. We could have walked away any time.”
I didn’t respond. This wasn’t an argument I was going to win. We stopped at stairwell leading up to the first floor and our way out of the building.
“So, where are we going?”
“Better not to say, in case someone is listening.”
“I thought head hopping was your trick.”
Me too, but the fact that Marisol had abilities, too made me realize that if something had made me this way, nothing said it hadn’t done the same to someone else.
“Trust me, okay?”
For his part, Declan kept his mouth shut until we were outside of the school, well away from our peers, and what I hoped was prying telepaths. I didn’t like the fact there could be someone out there with a power like mine who used it to harm rather than help. The realization was however, ironic. To the point I started laughing hysterically as we crossed Decanter Road.
“Are you having some kind of emo episode
?” Declan asked.
I stopped to wipe tears from my eyes. “You know, if there are evil versions of us out there somewhere, our lives are more like a comic book than I thought.”
My steel-handed partner-in-crime fighting considered my statement and rolled his eyes. “You’re a weird kid, Sorano.”
“I let my nerd flag fly, my friend.”
Having regained my composure, I led him down Decanter, hooked a left on Rosewood and before he had time to ask any more questions—or disparage my nerd cred—we’d arrived at our destination: Town Hall.
“What could we possibly find here?” Declan protested as I shouldered through the massive double doors at the front entrance.
“I have a hunch and I want to see if I’m right.”
“I’m going to need more information.”
I waved him onward down two flights of steps to the basement and the building permit office. The clerk at the front desk eyed us warily upon approach. Her gray hair hung around her face in loose curls.
“Can I help you?” Her nasally tone made my ears hurt. The slight downturn of her lips and the smudges under her eyes told me she didn’t want to help us.
“We were hoping to look at some old town building records. It’s for a school project.” I leaned over the desk, glanced back at Declan, and whispered, “It’s due in two days and my friend here is kind of a procrastinator.”
She looked over my shoulder at Declan, back to me, and said, “Records are not to be taken from the office. If you have to make copies, they are twenty-five cents per page. We close at five o’clock.”
“Thank you,” I said with a grin before dragging Declan inside.
“What did you tell her?”
“What she needed to hear to let us in. Come on, we don’t have a lot of time. We need to find any building permits or blueprints for the library.”
Easier said than done. The filing system was less of a system and more of a loosely affiliated hodgepodge. The drawers had faded dates handwritten on older labels, but there were huge gaps. By quarter of five, we’d opened half of the drawers and hadn’t found anything.
“Why couldn’t your power be finding shit,” Declan groaned, slamming a file cabinet shut, leaving a Declan shaped handprint on the metal.