Two-Faced

by Melissa Pearl

  “Oh.” I forced a grin, suddenly aware that I was probably coming across as a freaking zombie.

  Piper’s face was beaming with pride. I whipped her mask off and saw an even brighter version of that expression.

  “Congratulations,” I choked out.

  “Hey, I’m sorry you didn’t get picked, but you know, if you want to get noticed, you have to show up on time.” Her pointed look was softened with a cheeky grin.

  I had to smile back. It wasn’t often she was that nice to me and I liked the refreshing mood change. Usually the only person to really make her grin was her boyfriend, Scott. It bugged me that the professor could do it, too.

  I wanted to warn her, tell her that I felt like the guy was shady, but what grounds did I have to stand on? I was the only person in this college to think the professor wasn’t what he appeared...even Eric thought he was golden and people really had to prove themselves to my boyfriend before he’d trust them.

  “Well, have fun.” I raised my hand in farewell. It was all I could do and say.

  Piper gave me another full-beam smile before clipping out of the room. As the door clicked shut, I gazed at the phone on her desk.

  It felt wrong.

  Running my hands through my hair, I decided I needed to unwind. Taking a shower would be the perfect way to do that. The weight of my day made my movements slow and clumsy. I had three issues swirling in my brain: Mason, Prof. Hoffman, and Connor.

  I couldn’t help feeling like it was my responsibility to deal with all of them in some way or another. I should have called the detective back and gone into every last detail of my final encounter with Liam and Mason. I should have been trying to wrangle my way into the special study group so I could keep an eye on Piper. I should have been chatting to Connor, seeing if I could peel back more layers and figure out why a guy who looked so innocent could be messed up in drugs. And if he wasn’t aware, then I really should have been trying to find out who was giving them to him.

  Yanking out my toiletry bag, I shoved it under my arm and flicked a bright blue towel over my shoulder. My three major problems swirled away as thoughts of Eric fell straight into the middle of my head, making everything scatter to the corners and feel insignificant.

  His resistance to hearing what I had to say was throwing me for a major loop. He was hiding something from me...or he wanted out, but just couldn’t find the words to say it. The idea of breaking up with him first whistled through my brain, but I didn’t think I had it in me to do it.

  I loved Eric. I wanted to make things work with him, which meant I either needed to drop this whole Connor thing entirely...or I needed to find the courage to ask Eric what his problem was.

  10

  Eric

  The waves were perfect, the air was clean, the rides were sweet...and I was struggling to enjoy any of it. How could I when all I could picture was Harvey’s dilated pupils and all I could hear was Mia’s voice screaming at me to call an ambulance?

  I wiped out, tumbling beneath the waves. Kicking hard, I propelled myself back up to the surface and gulped a mouthful of air before ducking beneath the next wave. Swimming for my board, I pulled myself onto it and paddled back out past the break. Pushing up, I sat on my board, my legs dangling in the water as I let in a memory from seven years before.

  I’d been going through my rage days back then, pissed off at my dad for not loving me enough to stick around, annoyed at myself for not being able to control anything. Lacey and Poppy’s dad had been gone just under a year and boyfriend number...whatever...had split after a row that could have been compared to a tornado. I’d held the girls tight as they covered their ears and cried.

  I didn’t know how I got attached to Harvey really. He was a senior, played football...everyone seemed to like him. He was one of the good guys. At least, I thought he was. I think he felt sorry for me, or something, when I got busted for beating up one of his bully teammates in the cafeteria. He took me under his wing, a snotty-nosed freshman, and made my first year of high school pretty damn awesome. His girlfriend Mia was smoking hot and we hung out with his team a lot. I felt safe...secure...until it all ended.

  “Try some, man.” Jonah held out the bottle to me, waving it so the clear liquid swished up the sides. The bonfire behind made the glass bottle glow, giving it a magical quality that I couldn’t resist.

  I pressed the bottle to my lips and swished it back. It burned like frickin’ fire, making me cough and hack.

  Everyone around me laughed. Harvey pounded me on the back while taking the bottle from my hands. He took a swig and then passed it on to Mia.

  I swiped at my watery eyes, my chest still burning as I brought my coughing fit to an end.

  “All right, man, your first taste of vodka. What’d you think?”

  I shot Harvey a dry glare that just made him laugh even harder.

  “But wait, there’s more to come.” Jonah stretched out his leg, digging into his pocket and pulling out a packet of pills. Popping one free, he shoved it in his mouth and beckoned for Mia to hand the bottle back. A few gulps later, he lowered the bottle and let out a loud whoop!

  “What the hell is that stuff?” Mia frowned.

  “It’s Adderall.”

  “What the fuck is that?” I mumbled.

  “It’s my little brother’s ADHD meds.” Jonah chuckled. “It’s a stimulant, man! Like a totally legal high. Try one.”

  He shoved it toward me. My first instinct was to refuse.

  If only I’d listened to my first instinct.

  The rest of the night had been a blur. In fact, it took me nearly two years to remember any of it properly. Harvey had died. Mom had had to collect me from the police station. I’d been hyper-drunk and in shock. She kept my numb self home from school for a week and slowly leaked out the information to me, gauging my reaction with each little snippet.

  When it finally registered, I’d lost it. That was when my rage kicked in big time. It didn’t matter how many times we shifted. No matter what school I moved to, I got into fights. I was a messed-up, angry little shit...until Gramps finally retired from the military and came to save my ass.

  Harvey’s death had come back to me in a nightmare. I was out camping with Gramps and I woke up screaming, “Call an ambulance! Call a fucking ambulance! Harvey!” They were Mia’s words. She’d screeched them in a high-pitched voice that was practically incoherent.

  Jonah had paced behind her with bugged-out eyes. “We can’t fucking call! The cops will get us!”

  “But he’s dying!”

  “He’s already dead!”

  Alcohol poisoning. That was what the doctor had said. Because of the Adderall, Harvey’s brain hadn’t known when to stop. He’d ended up hogging the second vodka bottle and paid for it with his life.

  A new set of waves began rolling in. They looked like a good ride, but I couldn’t take them. I remained numb on my board, rising and falling as the swells travelled beneath me.

  Thanks to Gramps and his magic, I’d managed to work my way through that night and then block it. I’d moved on, but now it was back again. Caity seeing that in Connor...I couldn’t let that be true. Not Connor. He was one of the good ones...like Harvey was. I couldn’t handle the image of him dead on a beach somewhere. I’d looked up to Connor for too many years. Caity had to be wrong about this...she just had to.

  11

  Caitlyn

  Eric had been quiet ever since picking me up. He was nervous; I didn’t need to read him to see that. He was worried I was going to prove him wrong. His grip on my hand was tight as we walked toward the stadium.

  Two home games in a row for the Bruins always brought a bigger crowd. It was Friday night and people were in good spirits. I glanced up at Eric’s strained expression. Well, most people.

  “So, how was surfing?” I brushed my thumb over his knuckle.

  “Yeah, yeah, good.” He sighed, turning to scan the crowd.

  I rolled my eyes and decided to give up. Er
ic wasn’t always in a chatty mood and it usually didn’t bother me. That night, it was driving me nuts!

  He wasn’t the only nervous one. I was pretty confident I would see exactly what I saw at the last Bruins game and if I did, I was really worried how Eric was going to react to it. Should I just lie and then figure this out on my own?

  The idea was appealing, yet I couldn’t go there.

  If I wanted to keep Eric around, lying was the last thing I could do. He already had trust issues, and I wasn’t about to add my name to the list of people who’d let him down in the past.

  I cleared my throat and flicked my ponytail off my shoulder. My hair was getting pretty long. I thought about cutting it, but last time Eric and I got hot and heavy, he murmured about how much he loved my hair and I decided to leave it long. Eyeing him out of the corner of my eye, I wondered if it even mattered now. Hot and heavy wasn’t exactly on Eric’s agenda anymore. It stung, big time, but I hoped once we’d sorted through this crap, we’d be rewarded with a make-up session that would lead to better things...if we weren’t interrupted.

  I turned my face away so he couldn’t see my grimace.

  It was not the time to relive that issue.

  We made it into the stadium easily and shuffled down our row. We were a third of the way up and aligned with center court. I liked the position. It’d give me a good view of the game and I felt close enough to really read faces, which was the only reason I came.

  Eric stretched his arm across the back of my chair and grinned down at me. I leaned forward and pecked his lips, enjoying the ease of tension in his smile. Lightly brushing the back of his finger down my cheek, he hit me with his ‘I love you’ gaze and my insides turned to putty. Squeezing his knee, I silently hoped I would see exactly what Eric wanted me to see. I needed that ‘I love you’ gaze in my life and I was petrified of losing it.

  A cheer went up as the players ran onto the court. I stood with Eric and clapped my hands. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. I was too anxious to make a sound. As the guys ran through their warm-ups, I studied faces, whipping off masks as fast as I could.

  I saw determination, nervous anticipation, guilt on one guy, pride on another. Connor looked alive and ready to play ball...but that was it. He looked ready to play ball, not hyper, not sweaty, not jittery, just focused and ready to bring his best game to the court.

  “So?” Eric nudged my shoulder, gazing down at me.

  “Um.” I turned back to the court, a little flummoxed. “They look fine...ready to play.”

  “No...weirdness?”

  I shook my head and couldn’t help a frown. In contrast, Eric’s smile lit like the sun and he squeezed me to him, kissing the top of my head. “Oh, man, I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” His eyes softened with sympathy. “I’ve been really torn over this whole thing. I mean, obviously I don’t want you to feel bad about being wrong before, but I really wanted you to be wrong.” He winced. “Do you know what I mean?”

  “I get it.” I forced a smile. “I’m glad Connor’s okay. I wanted to be wrong, too.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed me soundly on the lips before turning back to the game and clapping a little louder.

  It felt good to see Eric lighten up so quickly, but I was confused. Had I just been imagining it last game?

  Seriously? I was wrong?

  When it came to my special eyesight, I’d never been wrong before.

  Taking a seat, I watched the game with an agitated frown. Eric was fully involved, rising and cheering with each basket the Bruins made. I wanted to stand up and join him, but I couldn’t make myself do it.

  I’d been wrong. What if I was wrong about other stuff, too?

  Rubbing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to rein in my swirling emotions. I couldn’t decide how to feel. Relieved? Yes, because Eric was happy and Connor was safe. Disappointed? Yes, because it made me feel like a total loser. I thought the gift was bulletproof; that I would always see the right thing.

  Forcing my eyes back to the court, I watched Connor pass the ball only to have it intercepted. He raced after the Golden Grizzly, but the guy was too fast for him, rushing up to the hoop and ducking past the Bruins like a skittish rabbit. He pushed his way forward and dunked the ball, landing with a triumphant shout...and that was when I saw it.

  The Oakland player’s eyes were bugging out big time. Sweat was pouring from his skin as he jumped up victoriously and hustled back down the court.

  My lips parted as I scanned the rest of the Golden Grizzlies. There and there...and there.

  I reached out, about to grab Eric and tell him what I was seeing. But when my hand landed on his solid forearm, another voice cut through the air, making me swallow back my revelation.

  “Well, if it isn’t one of my favorite students.” Professor Hoffman chuckled as he shuffled down the row and took the empty seat beside us.

  “Hey, Professor.” Eric grinned, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

  I leaned past Eric’s shoulder and smiled politely. The professor grinned back and I whipped off his mask. The look was the same, and once again I felt disappointed. It was insane to be that way when someone looked normal and nice, but I already had serious doubts over my ability and I needed my gut feelings about the professor to be proven right.

  They weren’t.

  I sat next to Eric, listening in on the conversation with his teacher. They were chatting about the game, rising and cheering when they needed to. They both seemed completely enraptured by the sport. I didn’t have the best view of the prof, but I tried to steal glimpses whenever I could.

  He just looked like a really friendly guy enjoying an intense game of basketball. It was hard not to notice his good looks. No wonder so many students were enamored with him. His brilliant blue eyes and roguish curls oozed with a sex appeal that I hadn’t taken to in the past, probably because my gut had always pinched with warning when I was around him. That night, I could understand why the girls swooned.

  With a huff, I turned back to the game.

  The Bruins were playing their guts out. They had to to keep up with the Golden Grizzlies. The hyped-up Oakland players definitely had an edge. I wondered if they knew they were high...and I had to question why the Bruins were not the skittish ones. The high team had a huge advantage. They were faster, more pumped...were fueled by extra bursts of energy. I could sense the Bruins waning as the half-time buzzer rang. It felt like an Oakland win was inevitable.

  “Man, the Bruins are gonna have to work a little harder second half.” Eric shook his head as he took a seat.

  “Yeah, I love these close games.” The professor chuckled. “Although I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack soon.”

  Eric grinned.

  I peeled off my boyfriend’s mask, something I wouldn’t usually do, but I just couldn’t help it. His raw face showed me everything. His grin had a boyish admiration to it. He really did look up to the professor. It made me wonder if the guy reminded him of his Gramps or something. His expression was rapt as he listened to the professor’s story about when he used to play basketball in high school. It was a pretty funny story and he told it well. He looked genuine, as if he really liked Eric, and I was thrown for a loop.

  Why was I getting uneasy vibes before? Professor Hoffman wasn’t giving me any reason to mistrust him. Was I going insane? What the hell was wrong with me? My eyes were doing funny things and I didn’t like it. I’d lost my touch. Maybe the powers were wearing off...or I was outgrowing them or something.

  That theory didn’t feel right, but it was something I had to entertain.

  I should have been happy. I never wanted the gift of sight anyway. If I could get rid of it, then my life would be a hell of a lot easier. But there was a sense of loss that accompanied that thinking. Without meaning to, I’d developed a connection with the power. The idea of losing it was disconcerting.

  The players ran back onto the court, looking revived.
I eyed them carefully and figured the Bruins’ players had listened to some sort of rousing speech from their coach. He was steamed that the Bruins weren’t winning. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, his forefinger tapping his clipboard as he watched his players re-assemble. They looked fired up and ready to win.

  The other team was still hyper and jumpy. One tall guy with black corn rolls seemed particularly skittish. I watched him dance around the edge of the court, his eyes bugging out big time. I tried to peel back another layer and was surprised when it dropped away easily to reveal total paranoia. I leaned forward in my seat, watching him intently, putting the layers back on to compare. He was masking his fears well. I had to peel back a few thick layers to get down to the paranoia, but what I saw was frightening.

  Drugs. It had to be.

  I didn’t know much about chemistry and what different drugs did to the body, but I had heard a few freaky stories. I had to wonder what kind of drugs these guys were on, if I was the only one who could see the effects of them. They were obviously mild enough not to shine through, but not so mild they weren’t effective. I was totally intrigued...and a little scared.

  One thing I did know for sure was that I didn’t think I could let it rest. I had to find out more about what the players were taking...especially if they were taking it without knowing.

  I spent the rest of the game pretending all was well. I’d wait until I was alone with Eric to tell him what I’d seen. Although the professor was acting all nice, I still couldn’t ignore my initial reservations. From what I was witnessing on the court, I was confident I hadn’t lost my power.

  The stadium was pulled tight like a string ready to snap as we neared the final buzzer. There were two points in it. If the Bruins could get a three-pointer then they’d win the game. I held my breath as I watched them near the basket. The Oakland players were agitated, sweat pouring from their bodies. Mr Paranoia was getting worse by the second.