The Pentrals

by Mack, Crystal

  “I know what you’re doing,” I say softly, once we’re outside.

  “Excuse me?” Celestia answers, face bright with a smile. Her snow-white teeth are almost blinding in the sun, her luscious black hair glistening.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I repeat a bit louder. “I heard you, at the FreshView party, talking about keeping this town under your spell. You’re behind all the mirripulation, aren’t you?” My heart is racing, threatening to propel my body off the ground with its rapid thumping. But I steer myself into the street awaiting her response.

  Despite my accusation, Celestia barely flinches. She holds her smile, and tilts her head slightly upward along with one perfectly tweezed brow. “Did you now?” she answers. There’s a change to her voice, similar to when I overheard her that night. The sweetness is replaced with a bitter bite.

  I shake my head yes. Knowing her association with the Kellys, I do not want to reveal my hunt for Mary’s glasses, to share the scent of my search. Her dark eyes dart over my face, looking for a clue, but I keep my stare solid.

  Finally, she continues. “Well, good for you, Violet Rayne.” She takes a step closer, once again placing her arm around me. Celestia pulls me closer, traces of vanilla seeping from her polished dark skin. Is she really hugging me right now? She draws back, still smiling, and gives me a coy little wave.

  Celestia starts to slink away, Persons gaping in her wake. Before she is just out of sight, she turns back to me and adds, “But you don’t know the half of it, baby.”

  * * 26 * *

  The next afternoon after school, I slump into a chair in Mr. West’s room. My presence startles him.

  “Ah, Antares, greetings,” he says, closing the text on his holopane. He walks over, jittery limbs reaching for a chair. He is generally an anxious fellow, but today he seems even more on edge. “Any luck?” he asks earnestly.

  I sigh. “No. I’ve looked everywhere. It’s almost impossible to find something when you don’t know what it looks like.” I lean back, body weak in defeat.

  “I see, I see,” he darts his eyes away, wearing a look of concern. His foot obsessively taps on the polished tiled floor. Something is troubling him.

  “Mr. West, is there something you’re not telling me?” I feel like my chair could start wobbling from his nervous twitching.

  “Hmm? Oh. Yes.” He stands and starts pacing the room. “Last night, I made a quick trip to the Ether.”

  I perk up, hopeful for details about the place I came from. But he is struggling to express his thoughts. “And?” I coax.

  Mr. West clears his throat. “Well. The Class Fours, they are… not exactly pleased. With me. Or you.”

  My heart sets off like a machine gun. “What? Why?” I choke out.

  “They want evidence. Proof to my claim of mirripulation. I’ve been on this assignment too long, they say. Not meeting expectations. They think a different Class Three may be better suited to finish the job.”

  No. I don’t want someone different. Another Pentral may have an unknown agenda. Mr. West may not be the most competent partner, but he gets what is happening here. He’s seen the Reflections’ trickery with his own eyes. He won’t make a quick assessment just to find himself in the good graces of the higher-ups. I trust him. He cares.

  “I can’t do this without you,” I plead.

  “Well, subsequently, you wouldn’t.” He wipes a small bead of sweat from his brow. “Technically, you shouldn’t even be here. In Violet’s body. Class Twos are meant to prove their worth serving their Persons, not spending time interacting with others. You found a loophole the Class Fours want closed.”

  My knuckles are white from squeezing my chair. He continues. “They were going to take action against you. But I convinced them to wait. To let you help me.” He gives a weak smile. “Two heads are better than one, after all.”

  I piece together what he is trying to say. “So if you go, I go too,” I say quietly.

  “Yes. I’m… I’m sorry, Antares. But maybe this extra time, in human form, will give us more memories, more feelings to hold on to when we’re…” he trails off.

  “What?” I interrupt. “When we’re crazy? Chained to a wall for the rest of our existence?” Fury, that same violent emotion that got me here in the first place, propels me out of my chair. “No! I’m not going down like that!”

  Mr. West steps back, startled. He is so jumpy I think a feather could knock him over. “No, of course not. I don’t want that either. We still have time.” He rushes over to the vertical holopane hanging at the front of the classroom. After a few agile taps, a picture of Talline leaps from the glass, showing crowds of people laughing and dancing in the streets. “This weekend is the Festival of Light. The city will be celebrating its mirrored existence. The Class Fours are coming for their proof.”

  I watch the hologram before me. There are people everywhere, and so much light it seems like nothing would go undetected. How could these Pentrals just appear during the biggest event of the year? “Won’t they be seen?” I ask.

  “Trust me, they won’t be noticed. But we will.” He taps the glass again and the image disappears.

  The Festival is in less than 48 hours. Answers must be delivered if I’m to hold on to my sanity. But how will I find them? I’ve exhausted almost every lead on the glasses, tried every conceivable angle. Well, almost every angle. There are two Persons I’ve yet to corner, those closest to Mary, who would have known of her experiments. Due to the sensitivity of the issue, I didn’t want to confront them until I absolutely had to, but now I’m out of time. I have to talk to Thomas and Ben.

  “Mr. West, we’re not going to fail. I won’t give up.”

  A look of relief washes over him. “You have a lot of heart, Antares.” My heart? I hardly understand it. What it feels, why it beats. But I don’t have time to decipher it now. I just know I have to keep fighting.

  Mr. West places his hand on my shoulder and smiles. Unfortunately, his warm gesture does nothing but send chills down my spine, thanks to his icy touch. Sensing my discomfort, he quickly yanks it away, comically shaking his wrist in the air. “Sorry about that!” he laughs. “Can’t have you frozen now, can we?”

  Certainly not, I have places to go. Missions to complete.

  I head outside to the soccer field, where the boys are practicing. The sun is starting to set; Violet traces my steps in long, thin strides. The team is still running drills so I take a seat on a bench on the side lines, watching them sprint back and forth across the grass. Thomas, the team’s captain, occasionally stops to give the others instruction. He is generous with encouragement and makes effort to hang back, passing the ball frequently. Although he is clearly the strongest and most skilled player, he gives his teammates chances to shine.

  I think about what he said, about not being bothered by his Reflection. Thomas is so confident on the field, making no effort to be the star in practice. Perhaps he just doesn’t take his looks to heart, focusing more on his actions to build up his self-image. The more I watch him be selfless with his team, the more I understand why Violet loves him so.

  My eyes flit over to Ben, who is clearly not the best player but makes up for it in enthusiasm. Whenever he receives the ball, he passes it almost immediately, giving up his chance to score. Just like when he stood uncomfortably under the bright spotlight at the anniversary party, Ben seems happiest avoiding notice. However, he currently has my attention. Something in me stirs as I watch him play with his team across the grass. I’ve known Ben for years, just as long as Violet has, but there is something beyond a common familiarity in the way his body moves. It’s almost as if I can predict what he’ll do next, expecting him to bob and weave right on cue. It’s an intimate knowledge; I can’t explain where I picked it up. But the longer I’ve been in this body, the more I’ve been drawn to his.

  A voice from behind breaks my observation.

  “Here to support the team?” William Kell
y approaches, impeccably dressed in a pale gray suit. Even though there is plenty of room on the bench, he sits directly next to me, so close that our shoulders almost touch. I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling completely inadequate in my appearance. Surely he must know his attractiveness is intimidating—is it really necessary to sit so close?

  I smile nervously, nodding. Of course I can’t reveal why I’m really here, so I put on my supportive girlfriend face. “I just love watching Thomas play.”

  “He’s a great player. You should be proud of him, all that talent. I keep hoping his dedication will rub off on Ben.” He pauses, rubbing his palms together. “He’s been very scattered lately.”

  “Ben?” If anything, Ben has seemed more like himself since I jumped in this body, letting himself relax and show his emotions. “He seems okay to me.”

  “Well, he internalizes a lot. But I’ve noticed a change. He told me he’s been having visions, perhaps flashbacks to a different time.” Mr. Kelly’s eyes are on the field, watching his son practice his footwork. “You know, before we brought Ben home, he had a difficult life. Living without a permanent family, moving from home to home, he was lost. I worried, after Mary’s accident, that I’d lose sight of him again.” He squints his eyes, as if trying to pinch back tears. “He’s held on, but now, with these visions he’s mentioned, I’m afraid he’s seeing things he shouldn’t.”

  I think back to Ben’s description of the flashback he compared to my brush with déjà vu. About a beautiful blonde girl and how he felt like she loved him. It didn’t seem like his vision was anything traumatic or to be feared. Could this girl have done something to him? To harm him?

  “What could he be seeing?”

  “I don’t know. But I will find out.” He turns, and for the first time looks directly at me, eyes piercing into mine. “I always know what my children are up to.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, his words looming. Surely, he meant what he said as a sign of fatherly concern, of wanting to help his children, but his face is so intense, I wonder if there is something more behind his sentiment. The boys start breaking from the field, distracting me from getting a clear read of his face.

  “Looks like they’re finishing up.” Mr. Kelly stands. He tugs at his sleeves, and for a moment I think I see a small scar on his left wrist. A tiny, barely noticeable blemish marks his perfect body. But he moves before I can examine it closer. “Take care Violet.” He strides over to Ben, who is dumping water on his face. I give Ben a little wave, and he responds with a partial smile. I was hoping to talk to both him and Thomas at the same time, but it looks like Mr. Kelly is bent on bringing his son home. Disappointed, I watch as he heads off toward the parking lot with his dad.

  Thomas runs over to me, face flushed. “Hey,” he says. I kick at the ground, guiltily pushing my interest in Ben aside. I cannot let my unexplained attachment to him overpower my interactions with the boy I’m supposed to be in love with. Thomas sees my shamed face and misreads it as sadness. “What’s going on?” he asks with concern.

  This gives me the perfect opening. “I’ve just been thinking about Mary a lot.”

  He sighs, shaking his head. “Is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?”

  His assessment both surprises and disappoints me. This is the first time since jumping into my Person’s body that Thomas has made any mention of my behavior. Even Ben has pointed out my being a bit off, but Thomas has stayed true in his unwavering affection for me. But perhaps he’s been fooling himself, trying to believe that everything is okay even though he suspects otherwise.

  “I thought we were past this, Violet,” he continues. “You can’t run away and disappear every time—“

  “I know,” I interrupt. I’m not looking for a rehash of the art studio argument. “It’s just, I found out some things she never told me, and it’s been bothering me.”

  “Like what?” he asks.

  “Like, experiments. Projects she was working on.” I am purposely vague, seeing where he will take the conversation.

  “Ugh, her science stuff? I don’t think any of us could ever understand that part of her life.”

  “So, she never talked to you about it?”

  Thomas laughs. “No. Even if she did, it’s not like I could follow.” I search his eyes, looking for any evidence of his involvement. But they are as clear as the lenses that frame his face.

  It is pointless to question him any further. Like Violet and Ben, Thomas and Mary were friends, but did not share much of their lives with each other. The Alliance was the bond that held them together, not every personal detail was shared. I press my face into his sweaty shirt as he runs his fingers through my red hair.

  “Don’t disappear on me,” Thomas whispers, his chin resting on top of my head. “Whatever is bothering you, we can make it through together.”

  Oh sweet Thomas, I think. If only that were true.

  * * 27 * *

  Thomas gives me a ride home, spending extra time nuzzling my neck and running his hand up and down my legs. I’m distracted, uninterested in his advances. I guess my excuse about Mary has temporarily diffused any fear he harbored about his girlfriend pulling away, but I’m worried about the holes in my performance. I thought I was a fairly convincing Violet—if anyone should be able to duplicate her mannerisms, it would be her Shadow—but I guess more Antares slipped through than intended. Besides my interactions with Ben, I wonder if anyone else has seen cracks in my surface.

  When we pull into Violet’s driveway, there is an extra carpod parked out front.

  “Does your mom have a friend over?” Thomas asks, coming up for air.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think she had any friends,” I answer.

  “That’s not nice,” he says with a small frown. I wasn’t trying to be insulting, just stating a fact. How can someone make friends if she rarely leaves her bedroom?

  “I just haven’t seen her be social in a while, that’s all.”

  “Do you want me to come in?” He gives what is meant to be an innocent smile, but he’s not the only one clued onto tricks. Clearly, he wants this snuggle fest to continue upstairs, but if I haven’t convinced him of my loving ways by now, an extra make-out session will not make things right.

  “I’m actually pretty tired. All that time spent watching you run really wore me out.” I kiss his forehead gently, feeling the muscles in his face fall in disappointment. “See you tomorrow,” I say, trying to make a quick exit. But he holds onto me to for a moment longer before finally bringing himself to let me go. Something in his grasp makes me think he’s only truly comfortable when I’m nearby. As if when I wander away, I take his security along with me. The trust Thomas has in his girlfriend is not completely built on solid ground.

  I want to pose this to Violet, but when I walk inside I find Benjamin Kelly waiting on the couch.

  “Honey, you’re home,” he says in a sing-song voice.

  My heart jumps into my throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your mom let me in. She looks… great, by the way.” Ben rolls his eyes in sarcasm.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I saw you at practice and it looked like you wanted to see me.” He takes a confident step forward.

  “Um, cocky much?” I respond, trying to stand my ground, even though I feel weak in the knees.

  “Am I wrong?”

  He’s got me there. I did want to see him, but not for reasons he’d suspect. “Well, I did want to talk to you.”

  “Mmm hmm. About?” He inches closer.

  “Your sister.”

  “Oh.” Ben steps back, deflated, his smile tipping downward. Man, two boys shot down in less than ten minutes. Has to be some sort of record.

  “Come upstairs. I want to show you something.” This reignites his interest. He playfully raises an eyebrow and lets his curiosity catapult him up to Violet’s bedroom. Ben plops on the bed and sprawls ou
t on the white fluffy linens. The room is dark except for the constant blue glow of the room’s holopane. As I watch him get comfortable, I’m suddenly overcome with another pang of déjà vu, like if I were to lie next to him right now, it wouldn’t be the first time. Currently he’s still, yet in my memory he’s anything but, and I’m right there beside him. It seems so natural for him to be here, though I’m certain Ben’s never been up in Violet’s room. I take a minute to let the familiar feeling fade back to wherever it came from, then grab Mary’s journal from under the bed.

  I hand him the book, being careful not to touch his hand and set off the spark. I don’t trust myself after the vision I just had. “Read this,” I instruct.

  He hesitates at first, unsure of how to handle what is essentially an artifact. He thumbs through the pages, slowly trying to digest words from a page and not a screen. But he keeps at it. I watch his dark eyes scan his sister’s thoughts, his caramel-colored fingers flipping the creamy white parchment. I know the journey he’s taking through her entries has to be awkward. Brothers probably don’t give much thought to their sisters’ self-images, and it’s impossible to know how Ben’s Reflection has treated him. What does he see when he looks in the mirror every day? Will he be open to her theories of mirripulation, ideas this Pentral knows to be true? Or did Mary already confide in him and he’s currently reliving her quest? For my sake, I hope he does know something. He’s my last hope.

  Finally, he closes the journal shut. “God, she is annoying,” he declares.

  “What?” I laugh out of surprise. It’s not exactly the assessment I expected.

  Ben throws his hand up in mock frustration. “Even in a coma, Mary is more impressive than me.”