by Inara Scott
He didn’t protest. His arms loosened as soon as I drew back and untangled myself from his embrace. He fell back on the grass, looking at me and not saying a word.
I sucked in a deep breath and pulled my hair back from my face. My whole body prickled with heat. As I stood I kept my eyes on the imprint our knees had made in the grass.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.
“What? We shouldn’t have kissed each other? It had to happen sooner or later. I’m not the only one who felt that. I know I’m not.” His voice held a hint of anger.
“But it’s not right, Jack. It was just an emotional day, that’s all. Neither of us really wants this.” I gestured helplessly toward the ground where the weeds had begun to spring back into place. My lips felt soft, and the skin around my mouth stung a little from where it had been rubbed by the tiny hairs above his lip.
I was fairly certain what I said was true. Not one hundred percent certain, but close.
He jumped to his feet. Jack had this way of moving that was like a cat—graceful but nonchalant, as if he refused to expend too much energy on his movements.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean that. I think we should just be friends.” I spit out the words fast, mustering all the confidence I had.
“Friends?” he drawled. He looked at me, his eyes difficult to read. “Didn’t seem that way a few minutes ago.”
“I know. I should never have kissed you. I really just want to be friends, Jack. That’s all.” I tried to speak firmly. Jack had been through a lot, and part of me wanted to be the girl who understood him and cared for him when no one else did. But at the same time I knew I couldn’t take that on. Jack needed something from me, something I didn’t think I could give. I couldn’t make up for his dad, or his horrible childhood. I had to concentrate on getting my own head straight, and figuring out what to do with my power.
My power.
I had controlled my power. I had taken some part of the energy around me and used it to send those cans flying. The power didn’t have to control me. I could control it!
A thrill raced through me, momentarily drowning out my horror over what I’d done with Jack—and what Cam would think if he ever found out.
Jack’s mouth flattened into a thin, angry line. “You know Prince Charming doesn’t really like you, right?”
I froze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s working for them, Danny. He’s only being nice so he can keep an eye on you.”
“That’s ridiculous.” A knot of fear formed in my stomach. That was exactly what I had thought about Cam. That the whole thing didn’t really add up. That there had to be something else going on.
“Think about it. Why is he paying so much attention to you, a freshman? I mean, you’re cute and all, but look at the girls surrounding him.” In a second, Jack had changed from a cat to a snake, complete with hooded eyes and an evil, forked tongue.
“Why do you think he’s always warning you to stay away from me?” he continued. “They know I’m on to them. They don’t want me to lead you astray. Prince Charming’s just the bait they’re holding out to keep you deaf, dumb, and blind.”
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I had to stop to catch my breath. “You’re a horrible person, Jack Landry,” I cried. “I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for you, or let you kiss me!” I marched over and grabbed his arm, suddenly filled with righteous energy. “Get out of here. I don’t want to ever speak to you again.”
Jack didn’t move. When I touched him, he stared at me with eyes so full of anger and pain that I stopped, transfixed. Silence fell over us.
“What are you kids doing?”
The voice of a stranger startled us both. Jack jumped. I dropped his arm and whirled around in surprise.
It was Shelly Burker, my next door neighbor. Mrs. Burker was a solid woman of at least three hundred pounds, with an uncanny ability to move silently. Over the years I had learned the hard way not to underestimate her ability for stealth, or the enjoyment she took out of getting me into trouble. It was entirely possible that she had been watching us the whole time.
“Um, what do you mean, Mrs. Burker?” I asked warily.
She put her hands on her hips and fixed me with a cold stare. “You shooting off bottle rockets or something? I saw those cans go flying in the air.”
“I’m trying out for the football team,” Jack said. “I was working on my throwing arm. I guess I’ve got a lot to learn, huh?”
Mrs. Burker’s small piggish eyes examined Jack carefully. “Who are you, boy? You Tom Landry’s kid?”
I cringed when Jack’s normally pale skin turn even whiter. “Why do you ask?” he said tightly.
“I knew the man, that’s all. And you look like a carbon copy of him.” She turned back to me. “Does your grandma know you’ve got this boy at the house while she’s away, Dancia?”
I shifted from foot to foot as I tried to meet her gaze. “He was just leaving,” I said, glancing over at Jack.
Even though I wanted to stay mad at him, I was struck by a pang of sympathy. Jack must hate hearing people talk about his father. After spending his life running away from Tom Landry and the hurt he had caused, it would be devastating to walk right back to where he once lived—where everyone recognized Jack as his son.
Jack started to say something else, but the roar of Grandma’s Volvo drowned out his words. She pulled slowly into the driveway, barely missing Mrs. Burker’s wide bulk.
“Is that you, Shelly?” Grandma called.
“Yes, I was just talking to Dancia and her little friend.” She looked at me with a triumphant gleam in her eye.
“What’s that?” Grandma shoved the door open and got out leg by leg. With a great sigh, she heaved herself out of the seat. A scarf with blue and red flowers covered her white curls, and she wore a matching American flag sweatshirt and pants and her old purple rain parka. “Oh, Jack!” Her watery blue eyes turned up in a smile. “How nice to see you again. Are you staying for supper?”
He gave Grandma a little bow. “Thanks, Mrs. Lewis. It’s nice to see you too. But I think I better go. Lots of homework, you know.” He extended his hand to Mrs. Burker. “Lovely to meet you, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If you say so.”
They shook hands, and he raised hers up to kiss the back of it. She jerked it away, but a little gleam of pleasure shone in her eyes.
She watched as he walked down the driveway. “Impudent boy,” she said, “but I think I like him.” She put her hands back on her prodigious hips. “That doesn’t mean I believe a word he said.”
I wiped my hands nervously on my jeans, then appealed directly to Grandma. “Jack and I were messing around in the backyard. He threw some cans in the air. Mrs. Burker thought we were setting off firecrackers. But we weren’t, I promise.”
“Hmm.” Grandma turned to Mrs. Burker. “They weren’t bothering you, were they, Shelly?”
“I suppose not,” she admitted.
“Well, not much more to say, is there?”
Mrs. Burker sniffed but didn’t argue. “I’ll be getting along home, then.”
Grandma gave me a sharp look as Mrs. Burker sauntered away. “You two weren’t in the house alone, were you? I may like the boy, but I never said you could be taking up together when I wasn’t here.”
“Taking up together?” I played indignant, hoping my lips didn’t somehow give away what had been going on only minutes before. “Grandma, he gave me a ride home and I gave him a soda. I am almost fifteen, you know. Old enough to be in a house with a boy.”
She didn’t fall for my wounded-innocence routine. “I don’t care if he gave you a diamond ring. No boys in the house when I’m not around.”
I rolled my eyes and huffed, though I was just as happy to have an excuse never to let Jack in the house again. My lips felt swollen and tender when I ran my tongue over them. Grandma st
ared at me with a vaguely suspicious expression as I started inching toward the back door.
“I better get started on my homework.” I gave a forced laugh. “They really laid it on thick this week.”
Grandma studied me over the top of her glasses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up from school. Is everything okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”
I took a few steps back. “School was fine. Nothing’s bothering me.”
She chuckled. “You would say that if they had jabbed needles under your fingernails.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I had to suppress a smile. “It really is fine.”
“If you say so.” She shuffled over to the car and opened the trunk. “How does chicken sound for dinner?”
“Great.” My shoulders dropped with relief at the change of subject, and I hurried around the back of the car to pull out the grocery bags.
A tiny part of me actually wanted to tell Grandma what had happened, just so I could figure out if I had done the right thing by pushing Jack away. I was still smarting from the things he’d said about Cam, but I knew I’d hurt him as well, and that made it hard to stay mad.
I just couldn’t get my head around how quickly things between us had changed. I thought Jack knew how I felt about Cam, so I was safe. I thought we could just be friends, and not worry about all that boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. But now I’d done something I couldn’t undo. And I had a horrible feeling I’d regret it for a long time.
“You and Jack didn’t get into a fight, did you?” Grandma asked. “He looked a bit odd when I drove up.”
“Jack and I are pretty different,” I said, throwing the bags onto the counter as we entered the kitchen. “He’s had a hard life, Grandma. I’m not sure what to think about him.”
She sighed. “I wondered what had happened when Jack and his mama left the house. I think Tom was rough on that boy. He always struck me as an unreliable character.”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure what I could tell Grandma without breaking Jack’s confidence. “I think you’re right.”
“Well, you can’t fix that, Danny. You can’t turn back the clock.”
“I know.” It all seemed terribly sad. Jack and his mom, Jack and me. Nothing working out like it should. “He scares me a little, that’s all. Like he doesn’t worry about things he should, or doesn’t care about things the rest of us do.” I thought about it as I spoke. “It isn’t that I feel sorry for him, exactly. I just wish life could be different.”
“No sense wishing for something that will never be,” Grandma said, unexpectedly stern. “You take what life gives you and you do something good with it.”
Grandma did that sometimes. When you wanted answers, she forgot the question. When you wanted sympathy, she’d tell you to quit feeling sorry for yourself.
I knew better than to argue. “Sure, Grandma. Whatever you say.”
I TOOK the city bus to school on Monday. Grandma had a cold, and her arthritis made it harder to get going in the morning now that it was cold and damp all the time. I made her promise the night before that she’d call Mrs. Burker if she needed anything. I hated not being around to help her myself.
Meanwhile, I had my own problems to worry about. I spent the bus ride looking at the people around me, wondering if I was being followed. The guy with the dingy brown hat pulled low over his eyes—could he be after me? What about the woman with the flowered dress? Was that really a purse she was carrying? Was there something inside—maybe a gun?
The bus dropped me off at the parking lot about twenty minutes early. The lot was dark, and as far as I could tell, empty. I knew other people would start to arrive in a few minutes, but for now at least, I was alone. I stood there for a minute, shivering in the cold morning air. Then I kicked the gravel for a while and worried about seeing Jack and Cam. That didn’t do my nerves any good, so then I worried about my algebra homework. Finally I decided I needed something to distract me from what was to come.
I walked over to the misshapen tree at the far end of the parking lot and studied the limbs closest to the ground. Clumps of dead brown leaves hung from the end of the branches, rustling softly as a breeze passed through them. With a quick check to make sure I was still alone, I dropped my backpack, rubbed my hands together, and focused on a single large leaf.
Seconds later, my body was tingling and the leaf was winging its way to the ground. I stared up, and a second leaf sailed down beside the first.
Next I looked up at the branch. It was thin and swayed gently under a load of dead leaves. I focused on it, and with a satisfying crack, it snapped at the juncture with a larger branch, hung at a crazy angle for a moment, then fell straight to the ground in front of me.
I stared down with a now-familiar mix of triumph and fear. I still didn’t understand the power, but I was coming closer. After two days of practice I had learned to summon that familiar tingle whenever I wanted it. I was becoming more adept at reading the tangle of forces around me, though I didn’t know yet precisely what they were. I assumed at least some of what I was feeling was gravity—the gravity of the sun and the moon, and the gravity of the earth. So far, all I could do was nudge those forces, alter their balance as they acted on objects around me. But I wondered what would happen if I unraveled them, or accidentally set them permanently in some alternative direction. I didn’t think I had the ability to do that, but what if I did and just didn’t know it yet?
The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became. We’d learned last year in my social studies class that the atomic bomb worked by splitting some of the bonds in an atom. I didn’t remember exactly which ones, but I recalled that the bomb only represented a tiny fraction of the energy that could be released. If I severed some of those bonds, I could blow us all to kingdom come. That possibility alone convinced me to try harder to understand what I was doing, and made me desperate for someone to talk to about it.
My only option for that, of course, was Jack.
Or was it? Now that I knew about Jack, I couldn’t help but wonder again what was really going on at Delcroix. Because it was difficult to believe that it was just coincidence that the two of us, with our strange powers, had ended up at the same school.
Then again, we were different from the other kids at Delcroix. Esther and Hennie had incredible gifts, but they were right there, out in the open. Everybody knew about them. Jack and I weren’t like that. We didn’t have gifts like the other students’.
But we’re the ones Mr. Judan and Cam personally recruited. Why is that?
The familiar crunch of tires on gravel interrupted my thoughts. I spun around, hoping whoever was in the car hadn’t seen me playing with the leaves. They were still far enough away that I doubted they could see the sticks at my feet, let alone notice a few leaves dancing to the ground.
That car was the first in the series now turning in from the highway. The time for games was over. I meandered toward the center of the lot and let the crowd surround me.
Esther arrived about five minutes later. She found me with uncanny speed, and ran over, her chest and backpack bouncing in an uneven rhythm. “Why didn’t you call me this weekend?” she called out when she was still twenty feet away. “We were supposed to talk about Hennie and Yashir!”
“I had too much homework. Grandma didn’t want me to call anyone until I finished it.”
Esther stopped in front of me, her hair a foaming cloud of black around her head. “That’s okay, but we have got to get you a cell phone so we can text each other, at least.” She must have seen me looking at her hair, because she gestured toward it and grimaced. “I combed it. It’s like a nervous tic or something.”
We both laughed, and I tried not to think about how embarrassing it was to be the only kid in the entire school without a cell. Esther dropped her backpack next to mine and scanned the parking lot. “Have you seen Hennie?”
“Not yet.”
I wondered if I should broach the topic now, or wait until later
. I realized I should probably wait, but I was practically bursting. We only had one phone in the house, and the cord didn’t stretch to my room, or I would have called her over the weekend and asked. I just didn’t want Grandma listening in on my conversation.
“Esther, have you really kissed a lot of boys?”
“Well,” she said casually, still looking around the lot, “not a lot, but a few. Why?” She turned and gave me a sharp look. “Does this have something to do with Cam? Did he kiss you or something?”
“No, no!” I raised my hands in protest. “Definitely not. I was just curious, because, well, because I haven’t. And I’m just wondering. About kissing, I mean. In case it comes up in the future.” I sounded like an idiot, babbling nervously as her steely eyes seemed to pierce right through me.
“Sure, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, the truth is that it’s a little weird at first, but totally fun. You just wait. You’ll see.”
“What if you weren’t sure if you liked someone or not, and then you kissed him?” I realized this was a very risky question to ask, because it would subject me to further interrogation down the road. But if anyone knew the answer, it would be Esther. “Could you tell if you were meant to be together? By kissing him, I mean?”
This had been driving me crazy all weekend. If I was meant to be with Cam, why had I liked kissing Jack? I knew Jack wasn’t right for me, and I knew I couldn’t be the girlfriend he needed, yet I’d still made out with him in my backyard. Why? I could blame it on the power, which always left me a little giddy and overwhelmed, or on the fact that it was my first kiss and I was curious to finally see what all the fuss was about. But in the end it came back to me, kissing Jack of my own free will.
“Oh! Well, you know, I’m not really sure.” She frowned, as if surprised by this apparent hole in her encyclopedia of knowledge. “I’m not sure you always have to like someone to like kissing them. But when you do like them, it’s amazing. Like when I kissed Sam Hopkins for the first time. Wow.” Her face got all dreamy. “I thought I was in heaven.”