Evolutionary Romance- The Complete Trilogy

by Sarah Biglow

  “Okay. Let’s see where it lines up.”

  “Well, of course that’s where it is,” Tina muttered and pointed to the spot on each schematic.

  I studied it but couldn’t quite orient myself. It was a fairly large space with no demarcation of what the room was used for. “Want to fill us in?”

  “It’s below the Restricted section. As in the place even employees aren’t supposed to go.”

  “Henry kind of yelled at me for going in there the other day,” I said.

  Tina nodded. “If you were going to conceal what was there before, you do it with a place no one goes.”

  “So, we know where the room is. What do we do now?” Spencer asked.

  I could hear the adrenaline wearing off from our little adventure. I also had a sneaking suspicion whatever painkillers Declan had passed to him were more than ibuprofen.

  Tina rolled up the blueprints and stuffed them back in the cases. “We go tomorrow and see what’s so special about this room.”

  “Tomorrow’s not gonna work for me. I’ve got to cram for a French final,” Declan said.

  “It’s the weekend. You’ve got time,” she answered.

  “I’ve got other stuff going on this weekend. You’ll have to count me out.”

  “Don’t you want to know what she’s hiding?”

  “A few hours ago, you refused to believe this was about your mom,” he snapped back.

  I didn’t need super powers to pick up on the tension rising in the room. “Look, this affects all of us and we should all be there. Why don’t we take the weekend and focus on school? We can regroup on Monday and check it out,” I said.

  Declan and Spencer nodded their agreement, but Tina squared her shoulders and met my gaze. The intensity of her look made the tiny hairs on the back of my arms stand on end. It could have been her magnetism acting up.

  “Can you wait a couple days?” I asked.

  She turned her focus to the boys but after a few moments, she exhaled, and I could see the fight go out of her. “Fine. But we’re getting to the bottom of this.”

  “We will figure it out together,” Spencer said with a dopey smile.

  “You’re high, Sorano,” Tina noted with a small smirk of her own.

  “I’ll take him home,” I offered.

  “I’ll go, too. Besides, your stalker is still out there and Spencer’s not in any shape to defend you,” she muttered as she hoisted her bag filled with blueprints onto her shoulders.

  “Don’t be such a bitch, Tina,” Spencer said, a grin still plastered to his face.

  Declan remained silent as he undid the latch to let us out the way we’d come in. I crawled out first and did my best to steady Spencer as they pushed him out feet first. He started laughing as he stumbled sideways into a bush.

  “Shh. Someone will hear you,” I whispered and clamped a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

  Tina followed and as we started to make our way through the neighbor’s backyards, I caught a glimpse of Declan easing the window shut again, a forlorn expression on his face. Like he hadn’t wanted us to leave. Or maybe one of us.

  “I know it’s not my business but, is there a reason you and Declan aren’t a couple?” I asked as we staggered three across through someone’s rose garden.

  “You’re right. It isn’t your business.”

  “I know why,” Spencer said in a sing-song tone.

  “Shut your mouth, Spencer,” Tina hissed.

  We made it back to the main road, but I had no idea where Spencer’s house was from here. Tina wasn’t interested in helping as she took off without a word, her vibrant hair quickly disappearing from view. It was still light enough out to read street signs.

  “I’m going to need you to help me out a little here, Spencer. I’m not sure where to go.”

  He looked around and shook his head. “My head’s fuzzy. Must be the pills.”

  We stood there with his arm draped over my shoulder for a solid five minutes before I decided on a course of action. One with a high probability of getting me in serious trouble with Papi, but it was the only thing I could see working.

  “Come on. I have an idea.”

  He didn’t protest as I led him the direction Tina had gone. We took the second left on Devon Street and marched side by side up the hill and down the other side until we reached my front door. Papi’s truck was gone as I’d expected. I breathed easier. Maybe I could get Spencer rested and clear headed enough to send him on his way, so I wouldn’t get caught with a boy in my room.

  “We aren’t going to get in trouble with your dad, are we?” Spencer said as I unlocked the garage and ushered him inside.

  “He is at work right now. Hurry up and get inside.”

  We made it to my bedroom and I set our bags in the corner. Spencer let out a low whistle. “I like it. It’s very you,” he commented.

  “Thanks. Stay here, I’m going to get some extra pillows and blankets.”

  Spencer sat with his back propped up against the side of my bed when I returned, a less dopey, yet still equally adorable, grin on his face.

  “What’s that look for?” I asked and spread the blankets and pillows out in front of him, doubling up so the floor wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

  “This has been one hell of a third date.”

  “I would not call what we just did a date.”

  He rubbed at his chin. “I don’t know. We shared a new, exciting experience.”

  I settled beside him. “I’m calling it now. Next time, we go to a movie and dinner, okay?”

  With his free hand, Spencer pulled off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. “This is going to sound so stupid, but I’ve never been on a fourth date with anyone before.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said.

  “I’m serious. Things never got past date three. Until I met you, I was sure I’d been cursed.”

  Embarrassment wafted off him in waves. To allay his uncertainly, I leaned over and kissed him. The memory of our last kiss washed over me but melted quickly into thoughts of our make-out session a few days earlier. Those doubts about whether our feelings were real or manufactured surfaced again and I pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. I chose to believe he was respecting boundaries by not probing my thoughts without permission.

  “You will think I am overreacting, but we both have these powers, right? They are linked to emotions in a way.”

  “Yeah. So, what?”

  “What if whoever made us this way also made us have this connection with each other? I know I only wanted to be friends until we met in person and then I could just feel that there was something more between us. What if our feelings are not our own?”

  “No one made me feel the way I do about you, Marisol. And even if they did, how is that a bad thing? I finally found someone I can be myself with. Don’t you want that, too?”

  “But if we were made to feel this way, how do we know this is real?”

  He looked away from me, and color burned in his cheeks. “The other night when we made out, it seemed like you changed your mind really fast. I didn’t want to say anything then because well … I had a beautiful girl making out with me but, did you really want to do that?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Was it something you decided you wanted to do, or did you feel … pushed into it?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but stopped to really consider his question. I had been feeling his emotions since we met in person and I had worried I let his feelings guide my actions. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. I haven’t told anyone, not even Tina and Declan, but sometimes I can influence people. Like mind control sort of. It isn’t all the time but, I think maybe I did it to you the other night.”

  The possibility that he’d made me do something against my will turned my stomach. I scooted away from him to put distance between us. He hung his head and studied his hands. “Why would you do that to me? You know wha
t I’ve been through,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  “It isn’t a conscious thing I do. I swear. And I would never do it to you, not intentionally. I am sorry if I pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.”

  He sounded sincere, but how could I trust anything he said? I could read his feelings but was that any different to him invading my mind and planting thoughts? He sniffled and winced as he lifted his left arm to wipe away tears. The bandage Declan had put on was beginning to stain red. No matter how I felt about him in the moment, I wasn’t going to let him bleed all over the place.

  I went to my bathroom in search of a first aid kit and rewrapped the gauze on his arm. We settled back on the floor with our backs propped against the pillows. There was still distance between us and I felt safer that way. Spencer studied his hands in silence and I couldn't gauge what he was feeling. I needed to get a handle on these powers before they drove me crazy.

  “I don’t have anything else like what Declan gave you, but I can give you some ibuprofen or something,” I offered weakly. "I still can't believe he shot you.”

  "It's only a flesh wound," he giggled.

  "I bet you never thought you'd actually be dodging bullets as a vigilante superhero," I said with a small smile.

  "Nothing that crazy happens here. It's why I let Tina talk me into this. Sure, there's the occasional kidnapper or mugger or whatever, but it's safe. And honestly, I’m kind of living my childhood dream."

  "This is why you don’t want to take over your parent’s restaurant," I replied, coming back to the first real topic of conversation from our first date.

  "I like helping people, but maybe there's somewhere else I could do it."

  "Like where?"

  "A counselor maybe?"

  "Have you told Tina you don't want to be out there in the danger?"

  He shook his head. "No."

  "You aren't scared of her, are you?"

  Color warmed his cheeks again and he gave me a sheepish smile. "You haven't spent a lot of time with her."

  "I didn't have to. It’s clear she's hiding a lot of pain."

  "She covers it well. I keep telling her she'd be happier if she admitted the truth to certain people."

  "She likes Declan but hasn't told him. Maybe she isn't ready to make that friendship into something else. If I were in her shoes, I wouldn't want someone else to dictate the right time to share how I felt."

  “I get that. I guess my life would be easier if she wasn’t pining after me and actually focused on him."

  "Do you get the feeling he likes her back?"

  "He likes her as a friend."

  "There's more you aren't saying."

  "It isn't my place to say. If Declan has secrets, they are his to keep. He'll share them if, and when, he's ready."

  "Well, I look forward to getting to know them both better if they let me." There was still a part of Tina's past I wanted to unravel, even if she objected.

  "Don't give up if they push back. I've known them a lot longer than you and there is still a lot they don't share with me."

  I couldn't blame them. Having these abilities was enough to make me want to keep to myself. Trying to navigate the currents of high school on top of that was treacherous. Spencer yawned, the stress of the evening catching up with him.

  "You should get some sleep," I prompted.

  He didn't argue. Settling onto his back, I draped an extra blanket over him before climbing into bed. I waited until Spencer snored softly on the floor creeping across the room to his backpack. I hadn’t said anything, but I had picked up on a thought from him back at the library when I’d brought up Tina’s father. I couldn't sleep without knowing if my theory was right.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Spencer

  Pins and needles roused me from a restless sleep. I opened my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. Panic jolted me to a seated position before yesterday's heroics came back to me. I shook my left arm to get rid of the feeling to find I'd started bleeding again.

  Wonderful.

  Marisol lay slumped over in bed, still asleep. I headed for the bathroom as quiet as I could and studied my reflection in the mirror. My skin was paler than usual, and I had shadows beneath my eyes. I bit my lip to keep from swearing as I maneuvered my arm free of the now crusty shirt sleeve. The gauze pad came away without much issue and I had my first real chance to inspect the damage done. I expected it to be horrible given the initial pain, but it just looked like a deep abrasion. I heard movement in the room beyond and I stopped mid-motion. Had her father found me?

  "Spencer?" Marisol called out.

  "In here," I answered, trying to be quiet.

  I heard the bed springs whine as she moved and appeared in the doorway. Her hair was a mess of curly bedhead. She shut the door behind her and waved at me to take a seat on the edge of the bathtub. I did as she requested and let her dress my wound. I would need to be more careful about how I slept until it healed.

  "How'd you sleep?" She didn't make eye contact.

  "Fine. What time is it?"

  "Six. Papi will be home in an hour. We'll need to get you out of here before he comes home."

  "What aren't you telling me?" I asked.

  "I don't know what you are talking about."

  "I'm a mind reader, remember. You don't want to tell me something about Tina."

  "Come on. I'll show you."

  I followed her back to the bedroom and she handed me the envelop that had been tucked in my backpack. She’d been snooping in my things. I wanted to be mad at her, but I’d been the one who’d gotten the information in the first place. She sat down on the foot of her bed, putting distance between us again. Our conversation from the night before returned to me and a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. I tried to push those thoughts away as opened the copy of Tina’s birth certificate.

  "I know you told me to leave it alone. That Tina had enough to deal with, but I just couldn't sleep until I knew, and I heard you think about the envelope yesterday," she said, as if she were the one reading thoughts.

  As expected, Helena Boudreau occupied the line for Mother. The name on the line for Father caught my attention. Clayton H. Kirkpatrick.

  "It's him, from the book."

  "Exactly. So, now we know Tina's mother was lying. We just have to figure out what she is covering up."

  "I guess we'll find out on Monday," I said.

  "If Tina actually waits that long."

  She wasn't wrong. Tina was not what one would call patient. But I was counting on her aversion to personal conflict to keep her at bay. "We can't share this with her. Not yet. She isn't ready."

  "Okay. I won't say a word."

  Sunlight dappled through her window, casting bands of light and dark on the carpet. I swore I heard a car engine rumble outside. Not wanting to get Marisol in trouble with her dad, I got to my feet and pushed my glasses onto the bridge of my nose. “I’ll see you Monday. Thanks for looking after me. And I know we left things in a weird place last night. So, whatever you want to do about us, I’ll respect it.”

  “I need some time to think about it.”

  With Marisol leading the way, we crept down the hallway and back to the garage. My mind must be playing tricks on me because there was no car in the garage or the driveway when the door slid up enough to let me out.

  I stepped into the early morning air and my breath clouded as I exhaled. It was colder than expected for late spring. I jogged all the way home. Along the way, I tried to formulate a lie to tell my parents if they caught me sneaking back in. I’d managed to concoct a story about last-minute cramming by the time I slipped around to the back of the house. Unlike Declan, my room wasn’t easily accessible from outside. I reached for the back-door handle and stopped, my senses picking up on anxiety from within the house.

  “He should be home by now. Where is he? Is he hurt?”

  My mother’s worry for my wellbeing made beads of sweat prickle along my hairline. No avoiding the confrontat
ion now. So, I walked in and darted up the stairs like a shot and managed to pull on a sweatshirt to cover the ruined shirt.

  “Spencer, do you have any idea what time it is?” Mom yelled from down the hall.

  I inched out of my bedroom to find my parents standing shoulder to shoulder in the hallway. The fact that they were both dressed at seven in the morning on a Saturday did not bode well.

  “I can explain,” I started, prepping the lie in my head.

  “Downstairs. Now,” my dad ordered.

  I trudged past them and back to the first floor. Their heavy footfalls trailed me until we sat in the kitchen. In my mind’s eye I saw myself calming Marisol down two days ago. There was so much my parents didn’t know. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them. I waited for the lecture but my mother busiest herself making coffee. My dad turned on the stove and pulled out a mixing bowl and ingredients for omelets.

  “You’re not going to yell at me?”

  Mom eyed me over her cup of coffee. “We are going to have a family breakfast and discuss where you were last night.”

  Dutifully, I set the table and waited for them to join me. Dad set a plate in front of me, but the thought of food turned my stomach and I only picked at it. I did my best to act normal.

  “So, where were you all night?” Dad’s tone was less accusatory than my mother.

  “Studying with some friends. We lost track of time.”

  “You were studying all night?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “You don’t call to let us know? We raised you better than that,” Mom said.

  “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I expected to be grounded through graduation, which would make my duties as a vigilante more difficult.

  “If you wanted to spend more time with your girlfriend, you could have told us,” Mom said.

  The forkful of food missed my mouth and I ended up with tiny welts in the side of my lip from the tines. “How do you know I have a girlfriend?” Saying the word now gave me no joy.