by Melinda Metz
“You said Trevor told you that you won’t die if you don’t connect to the consciousness. He said that was just what the beings of the consciousness wanted you to believe,” Isabel burst out. She jumped up and straightened the already straight row of books on the shelf over her computer.
“As much as I hate to admit it, we don’t have a lot of reason to trust Trevor,” Michael reminded her. “He said he’d gone through his akino without making the connection, but he also said he’d come to Earth to find me. He didn’t mention the part about planning to steal the Stone, or finding DuPris, or wanting to kill Max. So basically everything that came out of Trevor’s mouth could have been crap.”
Isabel whirled back to face him. “The rebellion against the consciousness — if it wasn’t led by DuPris, I’d join up in a heartbeat. Maybe Trevor was just waiting to tell you the truth about everything until he knew he could trust you.”
“If the rebellion isn’t more Trevor bull, maybe there is a way to survive the akino without making the connection,” Michael said slowly. “It’s not like you could rebel while being part of the consciousness. Look at Max. He’s a zombie half the —”
Hey, genius. That’s probably not exactly helpful to Isabel, Michael told himself.
“He is,” Isabel agreed quietly. “And that’s why I can’t join, even if it means . . .” She let her words trail off, but it wasn’t as if they both didn’t know what she was about to say — even if it means dying.
Isabel gave him a weak smile. “You should be thanking me,” she said. “I’ll be the lab rat. If I survive without making the connection, then you’ll know it’s safe for you to go through your akino without it, too.”
Michael’s stomach turned. This was just so wrong. He should be protecting Isabel, making sure it was safe for her.
“Don’t be such a guy,” Isabel said, catching the look on his face.
“I just . . . I can’t stand the thought of you —” Michael couldn’t continue. He stared down at the floor, trying to get a grip. If he let himself look at her right now, he’d totally lose it.
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Isabel asked. “I don’t want to be subjected to an intervention or something. Those are so last century.”
Michael nodded, eyes still on the floor. “You want me to stay? I can get the sleeping bag.”
“No, I’ll be all right,” Isabel told him. “It’s almost morning, anyway.”
Michael reluctantly stood up and turned toward the door.
“See you at school tomorrow,” she added.
Michael didn’t look back. He couldn’t.
Adam stepped out of the UFO museum and stared up at the sky. It was gray as cement and seemed lower than it usually was. He hated days like this. It felt like the whole world was part of the underground compound. It felt like the sun was just a figment of his imagination.
Seeing Liz would help. She was better than the sun. Adam knew Michael would crack up if he could hear that thought, but it was true. The sun made Adam feel extra alive, and so did Liz. But somehow Liz was the more powerful energy source.
He pulled the keys out of his pocket and stared at them for a moment before locking the door. It was an amazing feeling — having keys. It was like something actually belonged to him. And he belonged somewhere.
Adam was looking forward to the museum’s grand reopening. It would be cool to have people in the place. Adam liked crowds. He liked the feel of the edges of his aura blending with others’. He’d spent enough time alone to last him for the rest of his life. There was no place in the world more lonely than a Project Clean Slate cell. Yes, there were guards posted on him all the time, but that just constantly reminded him of the fact that he was really all by himself.
Adam put his keys back in his pocket, enjoying the weight of them, and wandered down Main Street. It was lunchtime, so nobody would think it was strange for a teenager to be out on the street on a school day.
He’d gone into every one of the little shops many times. He’d even started to get a kick out of all the alien souvenir stuff, which had freaked him out at first. But he didn’t feel like hitting them all again. He didn’t want to spend any more time under the gray sky than he had to. It gave him the wiggins. That’s what Michael called the creepy, pinpricks-on-theback-of- the-neck feeling-the wiggins.
A bus pulled up to the stop half a block away, and Adam ran for it. He made it just before the doors wheezed closed. “Target again?” the driver asked. Adam gave a sheepish smile. He did go to Target more than anybody else in town. There just wasn’t that much to do until school got out, and Target was cool.
When the museum reopens, maybe Michael will let me work there during the day, Adam thought. He could rearrange the molecular structure of his face and body so he looked like an adult. It would be his secret identity — like Clark Kent or Peter Parker. Adam shook his head. Another thought that would crack Michael up.
Except that Michael hadn’t been cracking up over anything since Trevor took off with DuPris.
Adam leaned his head against the window and stared at the strip malls and fast-food restaurants. When the bus pulled up at the stop in front of Target, he bolted off and raced across the parking lot so he’d have as little time under the sky as possible.
He felt better the moment he was through the electronic doors. Even the smell was somehow comforting — all different variations of clean and new. Adam headed for the long row of magazines, always his first stop. His gaze was snagged by the words on the cover of a women’s magazine: How to Send the Signal That You Want to Be More Than Friends.
He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was watching — even Adam the mole boy had figured out that guys shouldn’t be seen reading Cosmo — and found the article as fast as he could. He needed help with the Liz situation because the data he’d gathered so far were somewhat confusing.
Fact: Liz had kissed him. The kiss had been initiated by her. This was good.
Fact: Unfortunately, when Liz had initiated the kiss, she’d been in a state of complete emotional chaos. She’d had a fight with her papa that she thought had destroyed their relationship. This was bad.
Fact: The day after Liz had initiated the kiss, she had broken up with Max. This was good.
Fact: Liz had stopped looking Adam in the eye. This was bad.
Fact: Liz had almost stopped looking Max in the eye. Adam wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.
Adam started reading the article, hoping for some kind of guidance. “Try a red slip or bra,” the article suggested. “A flash of red underwear sends a major I’m-looking-for-some-lovin’ signal.”
He quickly skipped to the second recommendation. “Try dropping something, and take just a few seconds too long when you bend over to pick it up. It’s obvious, but guys are dense, so obvious is often necessary.”
There was no way this was going to help him figure out if Liz was or could ever be the slightest bit interested in him in a boyfriend kind of way. Adam slapped the magazine shut and stuck it back on the rack. He tried to push out of his mind the image of Liz Ortecho in silky red underwear that set off her dark skin. It didn’t feel right to think of her that way.
He quickly headed away from the magazines. His footsteps slowed as he spotted one of the toy aisles out of the corner of his eye. Adam knew he was way too old for toys. He knew that getting caught playing with toys in Target was higher on the humiliation scale than getting caught looking at Cosmo. But he’d never gotten to play with toys in the compound. Dad Valenti — Adam still cringed when he thought about how he’d grown up thinking Valenti was actually his father — had decided that toys distracted Adam too much from the experiments evaluating his powers.
Adam’s brain kept telling him that someone who should be in high school couldn’t play with toys, but his feet turned toward them, anyway, and in a few seconds he was sitting on the floor with a remote-controlled robot. He fiddled with the controls until he’d managed to get the robot to march t
o the end of the aisle and around the corner. He wanted to see if he could get it to circle all the way back to him.
He scooted around so he was facing the direction from which the robot should appear. It didn’t.
“The cow says . . . moo,” an electronic voice announced from the next aisle. There was a pause, then, “The rooster says . . . cock-a-doodle-doo.”
“Do you see a robot over there?” Adam asked. He figured it had to be a little kid playing with the animal toy, so Adam didn’t think he had to be too embarrassed.
The little kid didn’t answer. The robot didn’t appear. “The sheep says . . . baa,” the electronic voice stated.
Adam shoved himself to his feet and trotted around to the next aisle. What he saw stopped him cold. Max Evans was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the aisle, holding a brightly colored plastic toy.
“Max!” Adam exclaimed once he got over the surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Max pulled the string on the toy in his hand. “The duck says . . . quack,” the electronic voice said.
Adam hurried over and crouched next to Max. His eyes had that unfocused look they got when he’d made a deep connection to the consciousness — something else that gave Adam the creeps. He tapped Max on the shoulder. Max didn’t even blink. He just pulled the string again. “The cow says . . . moo,” the electronic voice obediently replied.
“Max, uh, shouldn’t you be in school?” Adam asked. He hesitated, then gave Max a hard slap on the back. Max started to pull the string again, but Adam pulled the toy away before he had the chance.
Max’s eyes fluttered, then slowly focused on Adam. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Adam shrugged casually, even though his heart was pounding from the weirdness of it all. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just killing time. What about you?”
A deep line appeared between Max’s eyebrows as he looked around the toy aisle. He rubbed his hands over his face. “I . . . man, I don’t even remember coming in here. We’re in Target, right?”
“Yeah.” Adam straightened up, then reached down and helped Max to his feet. “Are you going to, um, head back to school?”
“I guess I . . .” Max’s voice trailed off. He picked up a large, fuzzy teddy bear and started to stroke its fur. He lifted one shoulder at Adam almost apologetically.
“It’s a consciousness thing,” he explained. “Some of the beings want to know how it feels. I think I’ll stay here for a while.” He started sounding sort of sleepy. Maybe even drugged.
“Are you sure?” Adam asked. Max’s eyes had grown almost as glassy as the bear’s.
“Missing a day of school isn’t going to hurt me,” Max answered.
As Max started to drift off again, his words replayed in Adam’s mind. Before he could even blink, he had an amazing idea. A completely amazing, exciting idea.
Liz sucked in her breath as Max walked down the hall toward her. The intensity and focus she saw in his bright blue eyes was almost too much to bear. He was one hundred percent there. She could tell not even a fraction of a percent of his attention was on the consciousness or anything else.
It was exactly the way he used to look at her all the time. Liz had a wild impulse to run straight over to him and just hurl herself into his arms. But that wasn’t a possibility. She and Max weren’t together anymore.
Max smiled as he reached her, one of the smiles that made Liz feel like she was the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing girl ever born.
“Um, hi,” she said, an attack of shyness coming over her.
“Liz,” he whispered, leaning close, initiating a tiny tremor through her entire body. “It’s me. Adam.”
Liz’s heart slammed in her rib cage, and she backed away a step, feeling a little dizzy. “What?”
“I knew Max wasn’t going to be here, so I decided to, you know.” Adam made squishing motions in front of his face. “I wanted to see . . . the school. Is it okay?”
“Uh, sure. I guess.” She wanted to ask him where Max was and why he wasn’t in school, but she had a feeling she didn’t really want to know the answer.
“Why not? I’ll show you around,” Liz told him, struggling to sound like she hadn’t just been body slammed. “Come on.” She led the way to the cafeteria and pulled open one of the double doors. “This is the caf,” she said. “Do you want to get food? We could go sit with —”
“No,” Adam answered quickly. “I want to see the rest.”
Liz let the door swing shut and led the way down the hall. “These are the lockers,” she explained, letting her fingers trail across the green-painted metal, bumping each lock as she walked. “It’s where we keep books and stuff.” She paused. “This one’s mine.”
“Can I see inside?” Adam asked, all puppy-dog eager.
“There’s not much to see,” Liz answered. “But why not?” She began to dial the combination, messed it up, and had to start again. She wondered how long it would have taken her to figure out what was going on if Adam hadn’t told her he wasn’t Max. A few weeks ago she’d have known almost instantly. But lately she didn’t feel like she knew Max down to the bone the way she used to. There were even times where he was a complete stranger to her.
Liz pulled open her locker, revealing a neat row of books, a binder, and a stuffed alien wearing sunglasses that Max had given her as a joke.
“Is this your sister?” Adam asked, lightly touching the photo taped just under the one of her and Max.
“Yeah. That’s Rosa,” Liz answered. She looked into his eyes. “I never got to —”
This was too strange. She couldn’t have this conversation with Adam while he looked like Max.
“Come here for a second.” She pulled him up the stairs and down the hall to the little room where all the biology equipment was stored.
“What’s that smell?” Adam asked as she shut the door behind him.
“Formaldehyde,” she answered, her brain flashing on her and Max making out in this room, joking about how the smell of formaldehyde was a turn-on. “Could you go back to your regular self for a minute?”
Adam began the transformation immediately, without asking why. His hair darkened from blond to light brown, growing finer and silkier. His eyes turned from intense bright blue to leaf green, while his body grew a few inches shorter and lost a little muscle.
“Okay?” he asked when he’d finished. Liz nodded. “I never got to say thank you for convincing me to go and talk to my papa. You were right. We had this long, amazing talk about Rosa, and we hadn’t talked about her since she died. I told him everything, everything I’ve been wanting to say for years. How he doesn’t have to be afraid because I’m not Rosa and nothing bad is going to happen to me.” The words came out a little choked, and Adam reached out and gently touched her face.
He’s so sweet, she thought, realizing how much she’d come to count on Adam lately. How much it meant to her to have someone look at her the way Adam was looking at her right now — as if there was nothing more important in the whole world.
It felt good. It did.
But it didn’t feel the way it had when Max used to look at Liz that way.
Used to. That was the key. The Max Liz was remembering — that Max didn’t exist anymore.
Isabel spotted Alex hanging out in front of the gym with Steve Lydick, Doug Highsinger, Patrick Briscoe, and Josh Martinez.
They can’t be responding to Alex’s new gorgeousness, she thought as she headed toward them. But they had probably noticed that Alex had snagged the interest of pretty much every girl in school. Because of that, they’d probably decided he was worthy of their company. She rolled her eyes. Guys were such . . . guys.
“Miss Isabel,” a breathy voice called from behind her. Isabel turned, and Stacey bopped up to her. “If you’re thinking about going up to the guys, I thought you might want to borrow some of my blush. And maybe some concealer, too. I wish I had some foundation for you. But I don’t need it.”
“
Thanks, Stacey, but —”
Isabel blanked. Usually it was so easy to come up with the appropriate response to one of Stacey’s little digs, but today she was right. I do look like hell, Isabel thought. She’d spent fifteen minutes in a bathroom stall, using her powers on her face, and another ten in front of the mirror, touching up her makeup, and still she had akino face — grayish skin, dull eyes, lips that had started to crack a little.
“But what?” Stacey asked.
“But I’m fine,” Isabel muttered.
“You don’t have much time before you need to get ready for the game!” Stacey reminded her, bopping away without a care in the world.
Isabel didn’t bother to answer. She continued toward Alex, relieved when Stacey didn’t come along.
“Hey, guys,” she said when she’d reached the little crowd. “Can I borrow Alex for a minute?” Without a second glance at anyone in the circle, she took Alex by the arm and led him away.
“Oh, man, Isabel, too?” she heard Patrick complain. Even when I look bad, I look good, she thought with satisfaction.
“What’s up?” Alex asked when Isabel sat him down on one of the benches in front of the administration office. Isabel noticed him noticing Lucinda Baker as she strutted by.
“I heard you went out with Stacey,” Isabel said.
“Yeah.” Alex kept his eyes on Lucinda until she was through the main doors. “And?”
“And I don’t want you —” Isabel realized she sounded way too possessive. She reminded herself she was talking to a guy she’d broken up with. “Look, you are way too good for Stacey. You don’t even want to know the things she used to say about you.”
Alex tipped back his head and laughed. “This is just too freakin’ bizarre. Isabel Evans is jealous — of me and Stacey Scheinin.”
Isabel’s sallow skin suddenly felt incredibly hot. “I’m not jealous,” she snapped. Alex gave her a yeah-right look that made her blood boil even more, but she managed to keep her outer cool. “We’re friends,” she continued. “As your friend, I’m saying you could do a lot better.”