by Alicia Rades
“Mila, are you okay?” Carter says as he rests a hand gently on my arm.
The pounding in my head seems almost audible now and feels as if something is trying to escape. Pound, pound, pound on the side of my skull. The bustle of the city and the voices in the courtyard fade to near nonexistence as the pain takes over. It hurts so badly that a tear falls from my cheek. I hardly notice Carter guiding me down onto the edge of the fountain. I feel like I’m panting for air, but I can’t be sure.
“Mila, what’s wrong?” Carter asks, but his voice sounds hazy, like I’m in a bubble and he’s outside of it.
My head swirls, and I start to get hot like I’m going to hurl. Then, the world starts moving unnaturally. In what feels like slow motion, the fountain closes in on me. I’m briefly aware of the water as it envelops me, of the chill on my skin and the sting as I inhale and water rushes into my lungs, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t even realize what’s happening. For a moment, I feel strong hands grip my wrists. A man with dark hair pulls me out of the water, and that’s all I see before everything goes black.
11
I’m aware that time has passed, but I don’t know how much. I blink a few times until the bright lights above my head come into focus. I’m lying on my back, and my headache is completely gone. I look to my right to assess my surroundings and see that it’s dark outside the windows. I spot my watch on the table next to the bed I’m in, and I mentally tell it to bring up my GPS location so I can figure out where I am, but nothing happens.
I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better look at the room. It’s small with stark white walls, and there’s a door with a big window that lets me see out into a hallway. A hospital room? I can remember passing out, but I don’t recall how I got here.
Outside the door, I see a man standing with his back toward me, and he’s talking to a nurse. His hand is cupping the side of his neck the way it always does. After a moment, he turns and locks his gaze on me. A sweet smile forms across J.P.’s face.
“Why do you do that thing?” I ask as he enters the room.
He looks momentarily confused.
“With your neck. You always rub your neck with your right hand.”
Realization spreads across his face as he grasps what I’m talking about. “It’s just something I do when I’m nervous, Mila.”
“But you always do it. Are you always nervous?”
He moves across the room and pulls one of the chairs closer to my bed. He sits in it and adjusts himself quietly before answering. “Only around you.”
“Uh,” I glance around nervously. What does he mean? “What?”
“I do that around you because I’m always nervous around you.”
“You shouldn’t be. We’ve known each other for years.”
“I know. But you make it really hard to talk to you.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, honestly curious.
“It’s not just me. Everybody has a hard time talking to you because you shut them out.”
I recoil, a bit offended. “I don’t shut people out. People just don’t want to talk to me. In case you haven’t noticed, J.P., everyone hates me.”
“Not they don’t,” he insists. “You just don’t let anyone else in.”
Now I’m confused. What is he talking about? And how did the conversation so quickly turn to focus on my flaws? “Okay, name one time,” I challenge.
“Those girls at Ariel’s pool party. They welcomed you and probably would have been your friends if you didn’t run away right away.”
I’m stunned that he found an example so quickly, but I’m not sure if that counts. Those girls didn’t even want to talk to me.
When I don’t say anything, he continues. “How about me? Like you said, Mila, we’ve known each other for years, yet we still can’t talk to each other.”
I blink a few times because I don’t know what to say. Then realization hits me. “Hold on. I never told you about the girls at Ariel’s party.”
“Well, uh,” J.P. runs his hand on the side of his neck. Nerves, I guess? “You kind of did.”
“But I didn’t. I only told one person about that.”
“Yeah,” J.P. says. “Uh, me.”
“No,” I insist. “I only told Park—“ I stop midsentence.
Oh. My. God. But . . . How?
J.P. sees the realization written all over my face. He can’t hold back the crack of a smile that forms at the corners of his mouth. All I can do is stare at him, and he nods back.
“You’re Parker?” I ask in disbelief.
J.P. nods again.
I shake my head, refusing to believe it. “I don’t get it. You don’t even have the latest upgrade. How did you get in my head?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, avoiding my gaze. “All I wanted to do was finally talk to you. You wouldn’t talk to me face-to-face, so I had to improvise.”
“What are you saying?” I ask sternly so that he’ll look at me.
J.P. takes a few seconds to meet my eyes. “I’m saying that working at Mahone has its perks, I guess. It was easy to hack into the system, especially when the kinks on this version haven’t been ironed out yet.”
I nearly explode. “You purposely hacked into my implant and listened to my thoughts?”
“No,” he assures me, shaking his head. “I swear. The program isn’t built like that. I promise I could only hear what you wanted me to hear.”
“You always knew what to say, though,” I point out, fury still full in my voice. “Like the day of Ariel’s party, you asked me what was wrong before I even said anything to you.”
J.P. gives a bit of a laugh like it’s his little secret. “I have access to your data, Mila. We don’t store everything, but I can see things like your heart rate and what you’re searching online in real-time as long as you’re connected to your watch.”
“But you still hacked into it,” I accuse. “Just because you have access to some of my data doesn’t mean you should have access to all of it.”
J.P. sighs lightly. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry. I learned more about you in the past few weeks than I learned in all the years that we’ve known each other.”
I bite my bottom lip because I’m not sure how to respond. “But you didn’t have a right,” I finally tell him.
He shifts in his chair. “I get it if you’re mad at me, but like I said, I’m not sorry.”
In his following silence, I take a moment to think about why he did it. Would I do the same thing given the same circumstances? I want to be mad at him with all my might. I want to tell him to get out of the room. I want to pull the implant out of the back of my head. I want to—
Wait. The implant . . .
I reach up to feel the back of my neck, but it’s completely smooth. Suddenly, I’m more concerned about where my implant is than what J.P. did. A look of horror crosses my face, and I start to push myself up from the bed. Why am I in the hospital anyway? And what happened to my implant?
“It’s fine,” J.P. assures me. He rises from his chair and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Calm down.”
I lean back until my head touches the pillow again. “What happened to it?” I ask after a moment. I haven’t lived without my implant since I was six. Having nothing at the base of my skull is nerve-racking.
“They took it out,” J.P. explains.
“What? Why?”
“Your headaches are gone, aren’t they?”
I nod.
“I told the doctors about the beta test and your headaches. They—and your dad—thought it best to remove the implant for now. You’ll get the most recent approved version—the one you had before—after you get out of here. They figure the new technology coupled with your stress caused the headaches, but the version you had before should be fine.”
I nod in understanding. I’m a bit surprised he caught on to the problem since I hardly mentioned my headaches t
o him.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble?” I ask after a long silence.
“I probably should. Your dad is upset about the headaches, but he says he’s glad I pushed the limits. Now he knows we have to make the system more secure, even for Mahone’s own team. He says it’s our little secret for now.” My dad always did like J.P.
“You said my dad was here?” I ask.
J.P. returns to his seat. “Yeah. He and your mom have been talking with the doctors, and your dad had to report your headaches to Mahone since you’re a beta tester.”
“Am I the first case?” I ask.
“It looks like you’re the third reported one, but it seems like there’s only a connection with this current version and stress. We haven’t even rolled out this version to all the beta testers, but that’s probably getting put on hold anyway.”
I look out the window again at the dark sky. “How long have I been here?” I ask.
“A few hours. It’s pretty late. Well, actually, it’s early.”
I’m silent for a few moments as I mull over all this information and think of more questions I want to ask. “You were the one who pulled me out of the fountain, weren’t you? I saw you for a second.”
J.P. nods and offers a sheepish smile.
“I guess that makes sense. If you’re Parker, then you were supposed to meet me there.” I pause for a moment. “Why did you choose the name Parker, anyway? In my head, you told me your name was Parker. And it didn’t sound like you at all. What’s that all about?”
J.P. looks amused. “I told you my name was Parker because it is.” He pauses for a moment and watches as confusion crosses my face. “See? That’s what I mean. You’ve known me for this long and don’t even know my full name. Jason Parker Thompson. My dad’s name is Jason, too, so at home my mom calls me Parker. She never liked the J.P. nick name. And the voice? I figured I had to disguise it if you were going to talk to me. The computer helped with that.”
There are no words for what I’m feeling. I’m completely shocked while another part of me is almost touched by his gesture. He hacked into Mahone’s system and jeopardized his job, and possibly broke some laws, just so he could talk to me? It’s scary on one level and almost romantic on another.
As much as I want to chew him out for what he did, I can’t help but smile at him because for once in my life, I feel like I have a real friend. Then I realize something. “What about Carter? He was at the fountain with me.”
“He stuck around here for a while but went home a while ago. He wanted me to let you know he hoped you would feel better.”
“So, he was just there by chance, then?” I ask, still not sure why he wanted to talk with me at the fountain.
“That’s where he and his buddies hang out sometimes. I thought you knew that.”
“Oh, yeah. I actually did know that,” I said, remembering all the times I’d spotted him there while visiting my dad at Mahone.
There’s a long silence where neither of us talk. J.P. looks nervous, but he doesn’t rub his neck like normal. Instead, he stares down at my hand. “I want you to know,” he says as he reaches for it. His hands are warm and inviting as he touches it. “That I hope you feel better, too. And I don’t mean physically, although I’m glad your headache is gone. I mean, I hope you start feeling happier. Maybe this whole experience will get you to open up to people.”
Everything about this feels awkward for a moment, but then I find myself smiling because he has it figured out on so many levels. How is it that after all this time, he seems to know me better than I know myself? And who thinks of something like hacking into my implant just to talk to me? He’s right. I really did need someone like him to help me open up. I think of the way I was able to talk with him when he was in my head and how natural it felt. It was such a relief. Is that what it’s like to talk to everyone? Is that what it would feel like to talk with J.P. in person?
“Okay,” I agree after a long silence.
His face lights up.
“But on one condition,” I add.
His expression falls momentarily. “What’s that?”
“That I’ll open up to everyone. You’re not allowed to tell me when I can and can’t go to a party.”
He laughs as a huge grin forms across his face. “Agreed.”
I sit up in my bed and reach out to him. I pull him into a tight hug. It’s awkward hugging J.P., but if I had to hug anybody, I’d want it to be a friend like him.
“Oh,” he says, pulling away. “I got you something.” He turns toward the other end of the room and comes back with a plastic bag. There’s something brown inside, but I can’t tell what it is. He hands it to me, and all I can do is stare.
“Is this a—“
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” His hand runs along his neck again, but then he abruptly stops when he realizes what he’s doing. “Yeah, it is.”
12
When I come back to school, all eyes are on me again. This time, I know exactly why. I wear my dark hair up in a high ponytail, and it shows off the nape of my neck perfectly. This time I’m not different because I have a new implant. This time, it’s because I don’t have one at all.
I’ll get it put back in someday, but for now, things seem simpler and easier without it, and I’m not afraid to show that off proudly.
Carter catches up with me on my way to the cafeteria that day. “Mila,” he calls.
I turn to meet his gaze. He hasn’t met up with his group of friends yet, so he’s all alone.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. That thing at the fountain was freaky. Sorry I couldn’t stick around at the hospital, but I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, and then they told me I couldn’t be there when they removed your implant.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “Why were you with me at the fountain anyway?”
“Well, we never finished talking when you got sick that day. I just wasn’t sure if you were alright. I saw you there and figured I should check. I guess you weren’t okay, but it looks like you are now.”
I smile back at him. It’s amazing how much kindness he has shown me in the last few weeks. Whether he dated Ariel or not, he was right. Not all popular people are jerks.
“I am a lot better. Thanks.”
“That’s great to hear. I’ll see you around,” he says, like it’s an invitation to hang out with him. He starts to walk away, but then turns back. “Oh, and if Ariel asks like a jerk again, just let me know and I’ll talk to her.”
“It’s okay,” I start to say.
“I really mean it,” he interrupts.
I hope if something does happen that I’ll be able to handle it myself, I think.
My moment to test this presents itself as I walk into the cafeteria. I should have known that showing my confidence would hit a chord with Ariel. As I’m getting into the lunch line, a pain tugs at my skull. I whirl around to face my attacker. My hair falls down around my shoulders, and Ariel tightly grips my elastic in her palm. I can’t help but think of how childish she’s being.
“So your dad is working on that balance thing, then? Took the whole implant out to fix it?”
All I want to do is punch her in the face, but I take a deep breath because I know I can’t stoop to her level. I don’t know if she’s realized it, but the lunch room has gone silent again, and all eyes are on us.
“I know why you hate me,” is all I can say.
Ariel’s face contorts into a confused expression. She was hoping I’d retaliate more hostilely, no doubt.
“What?” she spits.
“I know why you hate me,” I repeat. “Some people say it’s because I’m prettier than you.”
A murmur goes around the room. I don’t know if they’re agreeing with me or not, but I don’t really care.
“But that’s not it,” I continue. “It’s because I wasn’t there when Toby died, isn’t it?”
“What?
” Ariel asks in disbelief. “He was just a dog, and that was, like, 10 years ago. You can’t expect me to still be mad about that.”
“Let’s just go, Ariel,” Trish says nervously as she pulls on Ariel’s wrist. Trish looks around the room at everyone staring at us.
“I saw the picture of him in your house,” I admit. “You loved Toby. You thought I wasn’t there because I was getting my implant, didn’t you?”
Ariel nods lightly. That’s why she always hated me for my implant. Ariel looks around the room like she can’t believe we’re having this conversation. “Okay, so I guess I was mad. We had a funeral and everything, and you weren’t there.”
“I don’t even recall you telling me he died,” I say.
“I vividly remember my mom talking to your mom on the phone about it, and then you just never showed up. Your family thought it was better that you got that implant than to be with your best friend in a time of need.”
I let out a breath of air in disbelief. “That wasn’t it at all! I got the implant the day before. I remember because the date on that picture in your house was the same day my mom broke her tibia.”
Ariel blinks a few times in shock. There’s a long pause where nobody makes a noise. “I’m so sorry,” she finally says. “I don’t know why no one ever told me. I don’t know how I didn’t realize.”
“I guess you never let me explain. You just stopped talking to me.”
We stand there in silence for a few seconds. It’s so quiet in the lunch room that I wouldn’t be surprised if you could literally hear a pin drop.
“Truce?” I offer, sticking my hand out to her.
She smiles nervously like she’s unsure. Eventually, she shakes my hand. “Truce,” she agrees. Whatever damage I did to her chance at homecoming representative, I think I’ve just redeemed her. The cool thing is that I’m perfectly happy with that.
Afterward, the chatter in the lunchroom returns. Ariel and I aren’t exactly best friends, but at least we understand each other now.
I set my food across from J.P. like normal, but today I scan the lunchroom instead of shy away from it. I spot some girls a few tables away and notice some empty seats near them.