by P. J. Hoover
Councilman Rendon tries to laugh. “Who here in the audience felt relief from the heat on Friday? Raise your hand if you felt the bubble disperse.”
Everyone in the audience raises his or her hand.
“If we relieve the heat, we are helping the environment,” he says.
Behind him, I see my mom stiffen. She glances away from the eye of the camera, and the council leader takes the next question. But as he talks, green the color of seaweed seems to ooze down him, starting at his head, until it covers him in a sheet of blackish fungus.
He pauses and shifts under the lights of the council chambers. Can he feel it? Can no one else but me see it?
I tap on the tube, thinking it’s a problem with the reception, but the color remains.
“How many missiles is the city equipped with?”
Rendon is about to answer when he presses a hand to his ear to listen to a private message. Then the greenish-black color oozes off him, sinking into the ground, and he returns to normal. Rendon smiles out at the crowd. “I’ve just been updated with a new count. The city of Austin has produced five fully loaded missiles. And as we speak, three more are under construction. We will use missiles as needed to keep the threat of the heat bubbles away. And I can guarantee you when other cities around the world see the success we’re having, they’ll be begging for our technology.”
Once the press conference is over, the tube cuts back to the global experts who rebut the use of the missiles, claiming the chemicals create instability and will cause a global disaster. It seems to me we’re already in a global disaster in every way possible. Shortages of crops are causing starvation on colossal scales, and most coastal cities are now underwater. Half of the population of Africa now lives in subterranean cities, growing food in massive underground hydroponics bays. But the experts claim the missiles will bring the end faster, if in fact the end is coming, and destroy all life on Earth, not just in Austin. I make a mental note to talk to my mom about it when she gets home.
The bell on the door rings, signaling someone’s come into the warehouse, and I snap my eyes away from the tube. I didn’t lock the door behind my mom, and she didn’t lock it either, which reminds me of how distracted she must have been. Still, I’m not expecting any customers. We do most of our business through mail order and corporate accounts. Except for the rare customer like Melina, who brought me the box yesterday. But at the door now is most definitely not Melina. A blast of heat pushes through the door when it opens, and the fans cut on to spread the heat evenly across the plants.
My heart gives a few extra beats when I see the guy there. I know even before he reaches the counter who he has to be. He’s just like Chloe described. No, even better. His blond hair is rolled into tight curls which fall around his sculpture-worthy face, and from the way he’s staring at me, I’m guessing he’s not here to ask about any plants.
He smiles when he reaches the counter, sets his elbows down, and leans toward me, swiping some dead leaves out of the way. “Hey, Piper.”
I’ve never seen him before, but when Chloe talked about him nonstop during our tattoo sessions, she swore he’d been here all year. I decide to pretend I’ve known him all along because I don’t want him to think I’m crazy. “Reese, right?”
He nods, and his arm muscles flex as he pushes against the counter. “I saw you and your friend talking in the library.”
I hold my hands at my side and attempt to remain composed. “Chloe was talking about you earlier today.” And Chloe had been the one going on and on about how awesome he was. But I don’t think he’s here to talk about Chloe either.
“Yeah, we have some class together.” His response totally matches his attitude.
“Physics,” I suggest.
Reese nods. “Physics.”
I dare myself to meet his eyes, and when I do, I find I can’t read anything about him. His irises are like ice; all I see in them is myself reflected back.
I inhale, and even above the fragrance of the entire Botanical Haven surrounding us, I can smell Reese. It reminds me of the thick, red wine I drink with my mom, dry with just a hint of sweetness, and it’s so strong I can just about taste it.
“Is your mom here?” Reese doesn’t bother looking around.
I shake my head, but at the same time realize maybe I shouldn’t admit to being alone. Reese looks like he could devour me. “She’ll be back any time.”
He seems to let his guard down. With his fresh smile, his scent fades until the plants in the Botanical Haven take over again. “She’s pretty controlling, isn’t she?”
“Maybe a little.” I manage a nervous laugh. When I hear it come out, I realize I’m kind of shaking, so I sit down in the chair behind the counter and try to get ahold of myself.
“My mom used to be like that,” Reese says. He pulls a stool up to the counter and sits on it, facing me.
Everyone always tells me this, but no one really understands. “I doubt it.”
Reese crosses his arms over his chest. “Seriously. There was this one time I was out with some friends, and when I got home, she grounded me for like ten years.”
His voice is helping settle my nerves, even if he is exaggerating. But I can’t get over the fact that we’re actually having a conversation. That for the second time in one day, a gorgeous guy has shown interest in me. A gorgeous guy that everyone else seems to know except me.
“Ten years?” I give him the obligatory eye roll which makes him laugh.
“Fine. Not quite ten years. But she flew off the deep end. Told me never to see those friends again. She threatened to have them impaled if they ever showed back up.”
It’s like he’s telling me the male version of my own life, and, for a second, I think he might actually be able to relate. “So what’d you do?” I ask.
Reese uncrosses his arms and sets his hands down on the counter, and he leans closer which makes my nerves start up again. “I ignored her. Snuck out behind her back.”
“I’ve never been quite that brave,” I admit, though the word quite doesn’t seem adequate.
“You should try it sometime.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand—”
“With me.”
My breath catches at his words. With him. He’s suggesting sneaking out with him. And I’m the worst friend in the world because even though Chloe told me she likes him, a horrible part of me deep inside wants to do it.
Reese hops off the stool and walks around the counter so he’s right next to me. The rest of the Botanical Haven seems to vanish around us until there’s only me and him and an intense silence, which increases with each passing moment. Yet I don’t pull away, even when his arm brushes up against mine and I feel the slick sweat on his skin. I don’t want to move.
“I’m not sure,” I say. There are a million automatic excuses running through my mind.
“We’re perfect for each other. I knew it the day we met.” He points at me. “You and me…we’re the same. Misunderstood. We’re like soulmates.”
Soulmates. The word hangs there in the hot air between us. I laugh at the thought, and Reese smiles in response. But I wonder if somewhere out there I do have a soulmate. Is it really Reese? Or could it be Shayne? Will I ever be able to find out with my mom controlling my every move?
“What do you have to lose?”
“My mom—” I start.
Reese makes a dismissive gesture with his hands. “Sneak out. Come on.” And when he says it, his eyes fill with an excitement that makes me think it might actually be possible. Like I could have a shred of adventure. With Reese.
I open my mouth, but I’m not sure what to say. Reese is still right next to me with our arms pressed together. I guess my body tenses up, because the next thing I know, he backs up and walks to the other side of the counter. I can almost see the gears turning in his mind.
“I never let being grounded get in the way,” he says.
I let out a breath now that the distance between
us has grown. I think about Chloe—how she suggested double dating—her with Reese and me with Shayne. I try to bring Shayne to my mind, but it’s futile. All that my mind seems to be willing to focus on is Reese and the thought of disobeying my mom. It’s a kind of freedom that tempts me every time I hear about other kids going to parties and hooking up and staying out all night. “My mom doesn’t let me date.”
“Who cares? What time does your mom go to bed?”
“Nine o’clock,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Perfect. Friday night. Sneak out once she’s asleep.” Then he gives me a final look, but instead of conveying adventure, his eyes are peeling me apart layer by layer starting with my clothes. I shift under his gaze, but don’t turn away. And then he turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
It takes me a good five minutes to be able to think about anything else. Reese is gone, and all that’s left are dead leaves scattered around my feet. I play the conversation over again in my mind, thinking I’ve missed some vital part of it. But it’s all there. Reese wants me to hang out with him—alone. And without even really meaning to, I think I’ve agreed. Which just can’t be. Chloe wants to date him.
I rub my hand over my arm again, feeling each Greek letter of the tattoo underneath, until Reese’s presence is gone. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and rub it on my shirt, and I grab a broom and a dustpan and start cleaning up the mess.
Chapter 6
Hallway
When my mom finally comes home, I start for the stairs. I want her take on the news conference from this afternoon. But I stop when I see her sniff the air and look around. Can she smell Reese? Just thinking about him draws the intoxicating scent back into my nostrils though I try to ignore it. She starts toward the counter, taking one slow step after another, eyes alert. Past where she walks, fresh dead leaves drop to the ground. Maybe it’s the news conference that’s got her upset. Or maybe it’s my tattoo. Or maybe she somehow knows a guy’s come over to visit.
After what seems like an eternity, she moves away from the counter and starts back to her work. I watch for a few minutes as she begins her routine, spraying leaves and packing in dirt. But she doesn’t say anything and doesn’t even call out to me. Maybe it’s not such a good time to ask her about the council meeting, so I tiptoe away. When she finally comes upstairs, she heads right for her room, shutting the door behind her. She doesn’t offer to comb my hair or even say good night. She’s never been this mad at me before. I’m sure she’ll tell me we’re moving in the morning. That I’ll be homeschooled until I graduate. That I’ll never see Chloe again. My eyes fill with tears.
I think about calling Chloe, but decide against it. I don’t want to tell her about Reese asking me out. Not just yet. I’ll tell her tomorrow in person. I get up and move to the window, looking out at the blackness of the sky. Even in the dark, the clouds are thick, and the promise of rain hangs in the air. Rain which is something we desperately need but causes flooding every time it comes because of the hard-packed ground.
Out back are greenhouses I spend hours reading and taking naps in. And our nearest neighbors are Randy Conner’s family a quarter of a mile away. But when it’s dark like this, the greenhouses and the neighbors fade into black, and it’s like we’re the only people in the world.
I lift the screen so it’s just me and the darkness, and I let the heat pour through me, inhaling the humidity. Wondering if another heat bubble will really come and suffocate the city.
And then I feel someone watching me.
I peer down into the darkness, but with the trees growing beyond control in our eternal summer, I can’t see anything. But I know I’m not wrong. Someone is out there.
My mind shifts to Shayne. He’d been pushed to the back of my mind when Reese was here earlier. But now, with the memory of Reese fading, Shayne begins to resurface. He’s a total mystery. I’ve spoken so little to him but have this burning desire to get to know him better. Like the red specks in his eyes hold secrets he wants to share with me. I want the eyes out in the darkness to be his. I want him to beckon me out in the darkness. I imagine he touches me, and I don’t stop him. I want to find someone I can be with forever, and I wonder if Shayne is the one. Or is it Reese? A shiver runs down me when I think about him, and I don’t try to force it away.
As quickly as it came, the presence vanishes, leaving me once again alone with the darkness of the night. I shake my head. Whoever was out there is gone. And I’m left with only my daydreams.
I head to my bed, but a slip of paper on the nightstand catches my eye. I pick it up, unfolding it, and then hold my breath.
I read the letter three times through until the paper is shaking so hard, I can’t see the words anymore. My father. He’s found us. He’s been searching for us since he broke out of prison, and now he finally knows where we are. He’s come into our house. Come into my room. He could come back at any time, even when I’m here. Dread punches me in the stomach as I think about it.
I fold the paper and prepare to head to my mom’s room and tell her, but I stop when my hand touches the doorknob. My mom isn’t talking to me. She’s upset about my tattoo. And if that upsets her, this letter from my father will push her over the edge. My pseudonormal life will end. Right here and now.
It frightens me way more than the letter from my terrorist father.
I tear the letter into tiny little pieces, wash it down my sink, and head to bed. I hope for sleep to take over, but my brain seems to have a different idea. I wish for dreams of mysterious guys, but my night is sleepless. Girls with empty eye sockets fill my mind. Heat bubbles smother the city. And when I try to imagine my father, he has no face.
The next day I walk into Social Sciences, but my heart sinks when I see Shayne’s not there. I head to my normal seat and sit down, forcing myself not to look at the vacant seat next to me. At least today, I’m on time; my mom hasn’t called me all day, which gives me a weird feeling of guilt mixed with independence.
I catch movement near the door out of my peripheral vision; it’s him. I stare straight ahead and pretend I haven’t noticed, which is about as easy as pretending I’m blind. My heart is pounding, but I look directly ahead.
Please let him sit next to me. It’s a silent prayer, and I’m not sure whom I’m even praying to, but whoever it is doesn’t listen. Shayne sits far to the left against the wall. My face burns, but I try to keep any sign of emotion off it. The last thing I want is him thinking I am looking for him, which I am; let’s face it. When I dare to glance over, he’s not even looking at me. Instead, he’s staring straight ahead with a look on his face like he wants to kill someone.
Mr. Kaiser starts the lecture by talking about the missiles. He’s been in contact with the members of the International GHC Committee who have conclusive proof that each time a missile is detonated, it strips a thin layer from the atmosphere. He tells us he’s written a letter to the city council and encourages us each to do the same. But given Councilman Rendon’s attitude, I doubt a letter will have much impact.
Mr. Kaiser then makes us come up with reasons why Earth is in a crisis state, but the sad fact is no one really knows. Sure, there are plenty of theories, but they’re only that. Theories. None are proven, and there are new ones every day. The fact is winter has stopped coming. Leaves never fall from trees. The earth is in a dying cycle of drought and flooding with sea levels rising around the world. I’ve heard summer used to be a good thing. But all I’ve ever seen it as is a death sentence for Earth.
It’s why my mom starts a greenhouse wherever we move. She says it’s her contribution to keeping the earth healthy. To keep the smaller species of plants from going extinct. To replenish them after the trees grew big and blocked their water and sun. To help preserve the big trees for when they eventually die out, too. My mom really does care about the earth. Sometimes, she talks like eternal summer is something the world should embrace, but at the same time, she does whatever she can to help things return to
normal. A normal that I’ve never known, since it’s been summer my whole life.
I manage to zone out for the rest of lecture, and blessedly, Mr. Kaiser doesn’t call on me. When class ends, I look toward Shayne, hoping he’ll be looking at me, but he’s already gone. He must have been the first one out of the classroom.
“Nice tattoo.”
I look up and see it’s Randy Conner. He’s standing there with his girlfriend, Hannah Reed, who’s got one hand wrapped around his arm and the other crossed over her stomach.
“Don’t tell me your mom really let you get one,” Hannah says.
“Not quite.” Randy and Hannah don’t normally talk to me; I never knew getting a tattoo would get me attention from the in crowd.
“No way,” Randy says. “You actually went behind her back?” Randy lives next door to the Botanical Haven. He of all people knows how overprotective my mom is. Four years ago, when we first moved in, he tried to come over and talk to me. My mom ended that before it started, threatening to peel the skin from his back if he so much as set foot near the brick fence. Needless to say, Randy never again came by to talk to me. And he told the entire school my mom was a psychopathic lunatic which, whether it was true or not, wasn’t cool at all. It certainly didn’t make starting at a public school very easy.
I nod, loving how his words reaffirm my rebellion. I did go behind her back.
“And you got away with it?” Hannah turns to Randy. “I want to get one.”
“Your mom would kill you,” he says.
Am I really not the only one in the world whose mom is overprotective?
“There wasn’t much she could do once I got it,” I say, and I realize the power of a tattoo. Unless I get cosmetic removal, it’s there to stay.
“Awesome,” Randy says. “But you’re not getting one now,” he adds to Hannah, and they move on out of the room.
I pick up my backpack and head for the door.
“Yeah, nice tattoo.”