I shake my head and sniffle again. “Not anymore, probably.”
She rolls her eyes smiles. “Merrin. He does. Since he met you, he’s…peaceful. It’s been a while since I could say that about him.”
Leni’s cuff beeps. She answers it, then says, “Yeah. Okay.” She hangs up, leans in, and gives me a hug.
“Dinnertime?” I just realized it had gotten dark outside.
“Yeah. I’ll text later. You okay?” she says into my hair.
“Mmm hmmm.”
I head downstairs after smearing some concealer under my eyes, hoping to find some brownies or a candy bar or something. Mom and Dad sit at the kitchen island, talking quietly.
Mom looks up at me watchfully. I never know whether she is suspicious or worried or disappointed. All I know is that the look is always there, and it’s the reason we’ve never been close. I’ve never been able to figure out what she thinks of me, and there’s no way I can ask her. Especially not now.
“How are you doing, Merry Berry?” Dad asks, smiling. I know he’s trying to lighten the mood. His eyes crinkle upward, like it’s secret code for “Just play along.” But I don’t want to be in a good mood. I want to cry in frustration that they seem to know what is happening with the boys and I have no clue.
The part that causes the biggest ache in my gut is that they don’t seem to think I’m important enough to know.
“Merrin? Merrin.” Mom puts her hand on my arm, and I break out of my daze.
“Yeah, Mom?”
“Merrin, I’m going away for a few days, too. For an intensive study at the Hub.” Her eyes are a little empty, with huge circles underneath them. She’s not happy, not glowing at all like she was after her demonstration at the Symposium.
“Mom, you okay?” I still can’t summon that much affection for her, but I am worried. And what the hell is going on with half my family at the Hub? Half of Superior, it seems like?
“Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I’ve left some dinners frozen for you two.”
I look at Dad. Maybe he knows. Does he know?
Dad picks at his cuticles. “Dear, I don’t think this is the way to…”
Her eyes dart over to Dad, full of some weird look I’ve never seen in them before.
I can’t stand to look at either of them anymore. There’s only one person in the universe who will understand me right now, who knows me and my Oneness inside and out. So, almost without thinking, I head back to my room, pull on one of Elias’s sweatshirts, and call Elias.
“Elias, I have to tell you something.” After agonizing and pacing and burying my face in my Elias-sweatshirt-covered hands, I finally called him.
“I have to tell you something, too.”
I blow out a breath.
He continues. “First, I’m sorry. But you know that. I mean, I hope you do. But there’s something else. Dad freaked out at me about that whole backpack thing again.”
I suck in a breath. “Why?”
He’s silent on the other end, which I can’t stand.
“What did you tell him?”
There’s a pause. “Elias?” I say after a minute.
“Nothing about you. So don’t worry about it.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him I flew. Um, finally.”
“You what?” This makes me sit up straight. “Elias, what happens…what happens when he wants you to do it again?” My heart races with panic for Elias, how he’ll perpetuate this lie that he told on my behalf.
“I’ll tell him… I don’t know.” He sighs, so loud I can practically feel it puffing through the speaker. “I’ll tell him it fizzled or something.”
I have no idea what to say. I can think of a million reasons why that’s a bad idea, but I feel like it’s none of my business right now. Not after how we fought this morning.
“We could tell him. Together.”
“No. We’re not doing that. I don’t want you involved in… I just don’t.”
It sounds like he’s saying, “I don’t want you.” And I can see that, I really can, because of the way I reacted, screamed at him, accused him of not caring about me. Worst, didn’t trust him.
“Merrin.”
I don’t know if he wants me to answer or if he just likes to say my name. I’m hoping for the latter, but since I acted like such a freak earlier, I’m betting on the former.
“Yeah?” I say, after a long pause.
“I used to dream about flying.”
Tears well in my eyes, and a lump blocks sound from leaving my throat. I can hear Elias breathing on the other end. Waiting for me, as he always has. After a long minute, I finally say, “Me too.”
“I was dreaming about you, Merrin. I was missing you. Before I even knew you. Before…”
“Before you knew my name?”
“Yeah.”
“But you still knew that before you met me. Didn’t you?”
There’s a pause, and I can hear the rustle of sheets or blankets or something. He must be lying in bed. I guess that would make most girls hot and bothered, but I’ll never be able to truly separate my vision of what I’d like to do with Elias from a cornfield with the scent of autumn fires in the air.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Just a few years. I’ve been waiting for you to transfer to Nelson. Couldn’t believe it took you so long. And remember…you wouldn’t tell me your name for days. So, really, it could have been any random transfer I had a crush on before you finally broke down and told me.” He laughs shakily. “Besides, the dreams… They were even before then. I wish I could prove it to you, Mer. After that first time we flew together, I wouldn’t have cared if it was our last. After that, all I wanted was you. I wish you could know that. Wish you could know how much I…”
I can’t stand this anymore, can’t stand being angry with him but loving him so much that it hurts. I can’t stand not having anything to say. I can’t stand not telling him about the boys and not knowing why I can’t bring myself to get the words out.
I sigh. “Goodnight, Elias.”
“Goodnight, Supergirl.”
I dream of white rooms and cold air. My body doesn’t rest on anything, and I feel like I’m floating, even though my body feels heavy as usual. I can’t see the sky and I can’t feel the air moving at all. Something pinches my arm, and then I feel dizzy, and the dream turns to dark coldness. I can’t get warm under my covers.
I want Elias more than anything in the world, and I’m terrified, because even if I looked for him now, I know I’d never find him.
TWENTY-ONE
I wake with a start, my legs tangled in the sheets. My breaths seize my chest, quick in-and-outs, and I scan the room for something, though I have no idea what.
Not something. Someone. Elias. I want to be near him so badly it hurts. I fall back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling.
Then my cuff on the nightstand buzzes its notification that I have a message. I strap it to my wrist, squint away from it when its light glares at me the darkness. I blink hard, straining to see. Five missed calls. One message. I punch in the code and listen.
It’s Elias. His voice chokes out short sentences. “I’m not gonna be around for a while, Mer.” He takes in a sharp breath, and my heart wrenches. “I’m sorry.” And then he hangs up.
I feel like the entire world stops around me, like I have to work hard against its frozenness to blink or breathe or think.
What the hell? Where is he going? Are his parents transferring him to Super? That wouldn’t be such a big deal; I could still see him. Are they moving out of town?
I’m sorry, too. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things, and I’m a little ashamed. That clouds my thoughts so much that I can’t imagine what I’d say to him, especially over the phone like this, not in person. I’m not mad at him; now I just wish I could see him.
I’m still wearing one of his sweatshirts from bedtime — threw it on over the camisole, t-shirt, and long-sleeved shirt I was already weari
ng — because the smell of him is one of the only things that can calm me, even when I’m angry at him.
I toss on some jeans, socks, and my Chucks, and then push out the door in the dark, heading to my car even though it’s only 4:15. All the better — the next shift is probably just getting into the station or maybe grabbing their morning donuts.
I race the whole way to the VanDyne house. Elias’s car reflects blue from my headlights, and I sigh with relief.
I want to wiggle into bed next to him, wrap my arms around his waist, bury my head in his chest and forget the rest of the world exists. Whisper to him in the dark that I’m sorry, tell him we’re in this together, that we’ll figure out this whole stupid backpack thing and the Hub thing, and if we can’t, we’ll run away together, anywhere, anytime, just like he wanted, as long as we’re together.
I knock on the door right after I realize how freaking early it is, how normal people aren’t even awake at this hour. No one answers, of course. I run down the side of the house and start chucking gravel pebbles at Elias’s window. After a few minutes of that, there’s still no movement from inside. I know I’m definitely not supposed to be here, with his weird curfew and all, but still. Elias would know it was me, would open his window.
I hook my fingers onto the window sill and float up just a tad to peer inside. It’s still dark in there, but the blue glow of his alarm clock illuminates the room enough for me to see that his bed is empty.
My arms shake, so violently that I almost can’t hold on to the sill anymore. My stomach twists painfully. I dash all the way to the other side of the house, right outside the music room door.
I raise my palm up to the smooth black panel and whisper, “Hey, Rosie.” Just as I’m about to press my hand to it, I spot something sticking out of the narrow gap where the panel meets the house’s outer wall — a scrap of paper. I tug it out and unfold it with trembling hands. When I read what’s written there, my stomach twists even more.
M —
Knock knock.
— E
My heart stops, and I can’t fill my lungs. He’s at the Hub. Oh my God, they’ve taken him to the Hub, and they’re going to try to get him to fly.
I push my sleeve up to look at my cuff, but it loosened in my scramble to get dressed, and it flops off into the garden. I scrabble around among the plants, leaves scraping my arms, soil caking under my fingernails, trying to find it. But it’s dark, and under the shadows of the plants, I can’t see anything. Hot tears stream down my face. Finally, kneeling in the dirt, I find it and search for his call in the log. He called me at 3:30 AM.
“Dammit!” I scream at the house, at all the shit that Elias has gone through, at all the more he’ll go through on account of me. I slam my palm against the scanner, open the music room door, and streak past the drum set that two months ago I thought was the most awesome thing in the world.
I’m already in the hallway by the time Rosie has finished saying, “Welcome, Merrin Grey,” and my heart nearly stops. Why does the damn house have to announce every person who walks through the door?
“Rosie, go silent,” I hiss, hoping that command works.
I tear into the main area of the house. All the lights are off, except in the kitchen, like always. Frantically, I run my hands along the counters, looking for a note, a key, anything that will help me think of how to get to Elias, tell me what to do. Anything.
A sudden, loud, rasping noise startles the hell out of me, and I whip around, waiting to see Elias’s dad — or worse, some Hub official — waiting there in the for me. Then a pungent, familiar scent hits the air, and I calm down the tiniest bit. It’s the damn coffee maker, automatically starting to brew first thing in the morning. Like this is a normal freaking day.
Of course it’s not a normal day. The tears start up again.
Then it hits me. I have my cuff. I’m such an idiot. I’ll just call him, see where he is, at least let him know I’m trying to get to him. At least text him. I call first, jittery as I listen to the ringer once, twice.
Another sound makes me jump, a harsh trill from three doors down. Elias’s room. His freaking cuff is still here.
I run back outside to my car, barely able to see through the black after my eyes have adjusted to the house’s low light.
Just last night, Elias told me the very reason he’s gone now. The fear in his voice was of something real. His dad’s been waiting for him to fly, pushing for this.
Whatever he’d been letting them do to Elias there at the Hub, they think it’s working. They took him because they think they’ve finally made him fly.
They wouldn’t think that if he hadn’t lied to protect me. And we wouldn’t be in this situation if I’d really believed he was trying to keep me from harm instead of keeping me down.
Tears slip freely from my eyes now, as if they’re part of my face, a normal part of my being. My body doesn’t even react to them anymore, doesn’t heave with sobs. My determination keeps it from doing that because if there’s anything I’m going to do, it’s going to be the one thing Elias tried to do for me — save me. And I can’t do that if I’m doubled over my freaking steering wheel and weeping.
I swipe at my cheeks with a sleeve. I have to pull myself together — it’s all up to me now. I’m the only one who cares enough to try to do anything to stop what’s happening to Elias and to my brothers, whatever it is.
If I don’t find him, step up, and tell the truth, what are they going to do to him? What are they going to do to all the Ones? Will Daniel disappear in the middle of the night? Will Leni?
Just as I think her name, my cuff beeps, and I jump in my seat, swerving. I look down at the glowing screen and see Leni’s name there.
I hit the speaker button. “Hello?” I’m sure my voice sounds as panicked as I feel.
“Merrin?” Leni’s voice is a little gravelly. “Is everything okay? Daniel got this weird text from Elias this morning…”
“Wait. He texted Daniel?”
“Yeah, at like quarter to four. But it was weird. M will need you. Or something. Hold on.” Her voice muffles a bit. “Is that right?”
“Is he there?” I ask.
“Yeah, he, um…yeah, he’s here. Anyway. What’s going on? It had better be important for before dawn on a Sunday.”
“Where are your parents?” I ask, my mind racing. If I have the two of them, we might have a chance of getting somewhere with the Hub.
“Soccer tournament with the kids. I had to stay back for the cheerleading meet tomorrow.”
“Len?” I ask, my heart aching when I use the nickname only Elias uses for her. “How big of a deal is it if you miss that meet?”
“Merrin, you are freaking me out.”
“Just…get ready to go. Both of you. Okay? Drive by my house in half an hour, and I’ll explain everything.”
My thoughts run through my head in a loop — what I have to do, where I have to go, how I’m going to get there. I know Elias is at the Hub and that I have to get in and get him. My parents aren’t going to be any help. They’re all rallying around the Hub and its experiments, even Dad. Maybe they’re even pulling my brothers in with them.
Then a whole new panic strikes me. How am I going to even get in? I know if I can break into the Hub’s main entrance and if I have Leni and Daniel, somehow we’ll figure out how to find Elias, get him out of there. Maybe use their firepower or my One somehow. At this point, I don’t care how we do it — I only care that I see Elias again, in one piece. Hopefully get him out of there.
The only thing I have to my name besides my cuff is a few thousand dollars’ worth of rolled-up bills from summer jobs. If we’re going to run, we’re going to need some cash.
I kill the headlights a couple houses from mine and roll to a stop in front of it. Through our front window, I see a yellowish glow from deep inside. Mom must be up making coffee already. She likes to go for a run on Sunday mornings and needs a cup as soon as she gets out of bed.
I sneak around to the side door and duck beneath the windowsill, peeking up so I can watch Mom. I want to sneak in the minute she leaves.
She moves so slowly I can barely stand it. A slight whine escapes from my throat, and I realize that, while the tears have stopped streaming down my cheeks, I’ve started to bounce my knees, crouched like that, so that my whole body vibrates. I hold myself back from springing for the door handle the second Mom walks out of the kitchen and wait till I hear the front door slam.
I burst in, rushing to the mudroom bench in our front hallway where we’re supposed to hang our jackets and put our bags up every night. My chest squeezes when I see only three of the five hooks filled. Everything’s pristine without Michael and Max here to throw their stuff everywhere — not even a stray soccer ball in the corner. My heart flips a little when I realize I never told Elias the boys had gone to the Hub. Would that information have told him something? Would it have been a warning to him?
I shake my head. I can’t think of that stuff right now.
I grab my bag from its hook and step over to the hall closet where I hid my cash. I would have stuffed it in my sock drawer, like a normal kid, but Michael and Max would have found it there in five seconds — they’d never think to look in the family closet. As soon as I open the door, Dad’s work bag falls out, and his gigantic key chain clinks against the ground. I suck in a breath, waiting to hear him stir upstairs. After a few seconds, he doesn’t.
I stand on a folding chair, almost collapsing it when I step too close to the back of the seat. I curse, then regain my balance and stick my arm to the back of the high closet shelf, letting loose a sigh of relief when my fingers brush my old beat-up wallet.
When I pull my arm back out, my fingers brush a box. I curse at Mom for shoving boxes of junk all over the place in the name of keeping a clean living room. The folding chair creaks, and as I reach down to steady myself, I knock the box off the shelf, spilling its contents everywhere.
TWENTY-TWO
I scramble down from the chair and start to put everything back. There’s a bunch of random stuff — a faded movie ticket, a worn out twist-tie, a hospital bracelet so tiny it can only be from one of our births.
One (One Universe) Page 17