Body Parts

by Jessica Kapp

  He stretches, and I think he’s going to reach out and put a hand on my shoulder, but he laces his fingers over his head. I can’t help but feel disappointed.

  “I know this isn’t what you expected when you left the Center,” he says. “I didn’t realize what I was up against until I freed Sasha. But I don’t intend for us to hide out forever.”

  He sounds confident, like he has a plan, but when I glance up at him, the details of his face are hard to see underneath the night sky. I want to believe him. I guess at this point, I really don’t have a choice.

  • • •

  “Didn’t sleep well?” Sasha asks, tearing apart a croissant and dipping the bread in some coffee that, if any clearer, would be tea.

  My head is in my hands, my elbows up on the table. Not only is last night’s dream plaguing me, I have an equal desire to throw up and drill a hole in my skull.

  “Headache,” I mutter.

  “Euphorium might help.” Ry drops a plate of food next to me. It smacks the table and I wince.

  “Her head hurts, moron,” Sasha says.

  I lift my eyes as she throws a piece of bread at Ry’s face.

  “Good morning,” says Gavin, his voice chipper as he sits. It makes my head hurt worse knowing I can’t enjoy his mood with him.

  Sasha and Ry answer back, and I release a hand and wave a little to let him know I heard him.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Gavin asks.

  “Headache,” Sasha says.

  I hear a bottle pop open and the clicks of pills as they fall on the varnished tabletop. “I’ve got you covered,” Ry says.

  “She doesn’t need drugs, Ry,” Gavin says with a gruff tone. I can’t tell if he’s concerned for my wellbeing, or if he’s worried about my ability to resist pills.

  Then I realize Ry is right.

  “Yes. I do.” I lift my head and the room sways until my eyes find a focal point.

  Gavin stares at me, his mouth open like he wants to object. I notice he has two plates of food. Breakfast for both of us. His lips flatten out to a firm line, a look of disappointment that makes my stomach twist.

  “I don’t want Euphorium,” I say quickly. “I started getting headaches when I stopped taking my medication.”

  “I thought you needed them for your heart?” Ry asks.

  “I—I do. I’ve been spacing them out. We’ve been planning a rescue mission. I didn’t want to bother anyone about getting me more.” I rub my temples. “It’s just a headache.”

  Only it’s not. It’s like someone’s taking a jackhammer to the inside of my skull. I stand slowly.

  I buried the pills in my pillowcase so I wouldn’t lose them, and my fingers tremble as I walk to my bed to sort through the hodgepodge of medication. The red pill is easy to spot, but the light-colored ones hide in the creases until I find them and dig them out. I can almost feel my headache subside from the residue of pills on my hand.

  An invisible vice-grip presses against my temples, telling me to hurry up as I search for mine. They’re mixed in with Ms. Preen’s drugs, and some of them look the same. Without being able to focus clearly, I’m not sure which ones belong to me.

  I find two that look alike, and hold one in each hand. One is flatter. But not by much. They could be the same. But what if they’re not? I’m on my knees, shaking, unsure what to do but ready to take whatever I can to make this headache go away.

  Flat pill or thick?

  I peer over my shoulder. Gavin is watching, his face slack. Ry talks wildly with his hands. Mary has joined them, her face alive with wonder.

  Right hand or left?

  Right. No, left. I swallow the pill in my left hand and choke it down. I hurry to pick up the rest of the pills and toss them back in my pillowcase.

  The room pulsates. My headache comes with me when I rejoin the table. I’m not sure how long I’m supposed to wait to see results. I’ve never gone this long without taking my medication. My chest hurts, and I hope that’s not a bad sign. I need to stay alive long enough to get my friends out of the Center.

  I fake a smile and Gavin pushes my plate of food under my nose. His eyes lack any spark of interest. He turns his attention toward whoever’s talking, and I focus on my meal.

  It’s difficult to chew. My headache should be going away. If it’s not, then I must have taken the wrong pill. I try to think of what kind of medication Ms. Preen would take, but my brain hurts, and all I want to do is reach into my head and massage it.

  I stand without finishing my food and make a beeline for the door. I’m hoping fresh air will at least keep me from passing out. Adrian has a new piece of equipment dismantled when I stumble through the hallway, and I grunt when he acknowledges me.

  My vision is fuzzy, and I struggle to get up the ladder. By the time I reach the top, the ringing in my ears has grown louder. I crawl into one of the open horse stalls and curl into a ball in the corner, begging the pressure in my head to stop.

  After a few minutes, the ringing is replaced by the sound of Ry and Gavin talking. They must have followed me. I try to listen to what they’re saying, and when I focus, it sounds like they’re right outside the stall. I hold my breath so they don’t hear me and peek over the ledge. Their voices are so clear.

  “She hasn’t been getting them from me,” Ry says.

  “How do you explain what’s going on?” Gavin says. There’s a thump and a vibration that echoes like a metal prong humming inside my ear canal.

  They’re walking now, their footsteps heavy. I flinch and press my hand against the stall door. It’s as if they’re walking on the walls that surround me. Everything sounds so close.

  “Keep away from her, Ry, I mean it.”

  “I’m telling you, I haven’t given her anything else.”

  “She’s not a client of yours. Stay. Away.”

  The pain rolls behind my eyes. I grip the stall ledge, mustering the strength to pull myself up. I’m compelled to stand through an insatiable urge to defend Ry—and more importantly, to defend myself. But I’m surprised to find the barn is empty.

  Bewildered, I make my way toward the hole and glance down. I can hear Adrian tinkering. More than that, I can hear him push buttons, the buzz and crackle of electricity, the turn of a dial as he searches for a signal. Tiny clicks that I know I’ve never heard before, even when I’ve stood next to him to watch him work. But that’s impossible. Unless…

  Unless my hearing has been intensified.

  I press my back against the wall. A mouse scurries out of my way, and as soon as I focus on it, I pick up the sound of little footpads against the dirt and hay. It’s incredible, and I shudder in nervous excitement.

  I look out at the forest, past the field. A flood of sounds pours in: birds in flight, nuts being cracked, a thousand bugs marching. I turn my attention back toward the barn. I hear Mary’s voice as she plays with her doll. Someone flips the page of a book. A utensil scrapes a bowl. A sneeze.

  Gavin’s voice emerges, and I try to block it out. It feels wrong to listen, but I’m not sure how to control what I hear. It’s impossible not to focus on him when he’s the person I want to hear most of all.

  He’s with Sasha, and they’re whispering.

  A bed creaks and I hear him sigh. It sinks into my brain as if Gavin’s mouth was pressed against my ear.

  “If that’s what she told you, then why don’t you believe her?” Sasha asks.

  “I do.”

  “Then why are you acting like you don’t?”

  Sasha has my back. I’m impressed.

  “You didn’t see how she looked when she came out of the forest with Ry. I’ve lost too many people to pill thrill. And she says she has a heart condition? That’s unheard of for a Center kid.”

  “You think she’s hooked on what Ry gave her?”

  “It was Euphorium, Sasha. I’ve seen what it can do to people.”

  “Then talk to Ry. He won’t lie to you. He loves you like a brother. A better brother than
the one he has.”

  “I already did.”

  “So you either have to trust her, or move on.”

  Gavin huffs. “There’s nothing to move on from.” My body stiffens.

  “You can pretend all you want,” Sasha says, “but she’s getting to you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The bed squeaks and two sets of footsteps clomp across the room below me.

  Her voice is louder and there’s a hiss in her tone. “Stop punishing yourself for my mistakes.”

  “I’m not.” The footsteps stop. He makes a low growl, and Sasha laughs through her nose. “All right, I’ll talk to her.” Only one person moves now, and by the sound of the rhythm, I’m sure it’s Gavin.

  The door to the hallway creaks, and my heart races. He’s coming to find me, and I’m on something that’s not my medication. A knot forms in my throat. I can’t let him see me like this.

  I dive back into the stall, bringing my knees to my chest while I hold my breath—and pray he doesn’t find me.

  Chapter 11

  I press my hands over my ears and wait, but even layers of skin and bone can’t block the sound of Gavin’s booming footsteps.

  “Tabitha!” He’s right outside the stall, and I grit my teeth as my eardrums throb. Finally, he clomps outside, calling out toward the trees.

  I want so desperately to answer, but fear paralyzes my mouth.

  After several minutes, he comes back inside and calls down to Adrian. “I’m heading to town to run errands. Keep an eye out for Tabitha.”

  I want him to know I’m okay, but if he sees me like this he’ll know I’m on something, and he’ll assume I got it from Ry.

  Car tires grind through the gravel, and I wait until the rubber connects with the smooth asphalt before sneaking out of my hiding spot.

  I need to stay away from the barn until this drug wears off. I wish I knew how long it’d take.

  There’s only one place I can think to go to speed up the process without being seen, so I head for the trail.

  I sprint as if someone is chasing me, running so hard it feels like my brain is bouncing around my skull. The pain proves to be too much and the headache forces me to slow. As I do, the forest sounds amplify: whistles and caws, crunches and burrowing. It’s like a symphony conducted by Mother Nature, something no one with normal hearing will ever get to enjoy. It’s a tragedy, really.

  It takes me twice as long to get to the waterfall as last time, but I can hear the roar of the water as soon as I focus on my destination.

  When I get to the meadow, I ignore the painful pounding of the waterfall and strip down. No one followed me. I would have heard them. I position my hands in front of me and dive in.

  The shock of the cold jolts my body, and I gasp when I resurface, taking in long pulls of oxygen before settling in a spot where I’m submerged up to my neck. The temperature seeps into my pores, penetrating my bones. I recall what Gavin said about the cold, how it makes the blood flow speeds up, protecting the organs first. I close my eyes and wait for the drug to release me from its grip.

  When my teeth start to chatter, I pull myself onto the bank and wring out my hair. The drug hasn’t left my system entirely, but the cold water had an impact, like someone turned down the volume.

  My head still throbs, as does the wound on my neck. I touch the scab tenderly and wince at how sore it is. It shouldn’t hurt so bad, unless I scraped it unknowingly. It’s hard to say because it feels like someone’s been throwing rocks at my head most of the morning.

  I get dressed and hit the trail. When I reach the field, I see Gavin’s truck. I strain to hear, but I can’t pick up on any conversations. The world feels right again, as unsettling as it might be.

  The barn is quiet until I lift the hatch. Laughter billows up from the hallway. Gavin’s is deep, hearty, like he’s been holding it in for weeks. It has a substance that I’ve never heard before.

  I climb down the ladder and find everyone standing around the kitchen, plus someone new. She’s standing next to Gavin. No, she’s leaning into Gavin. Sasha catches my eye, and I bolt for the clothing cabinet as if it’s the sole reason I came inside.

  I pull out a box of clothes and rifle through it. Maybe I’ll find something warmer, comforting. I see movement in my periphery, and I dig deeper. But what I need isn’t in here. We don’t have an invisibility robe. I’m cold. I’m wet. And I feel like an idiot for being excited to see him.

  “You okay?” Sasha stands behind me. She’s far enough away from the group no one can hear her. I pretend I can’t, either.

  “Tabitha?” There’s an edge of irritation in her voice.

  “What? I’m fine.” I continue to pick up useless articles of clothing.

  Did I think he’d replace the void in my heart? The longing to be close to someone, since I don’t have my Center friends or the loving family I thought I was joining? I don’t need anyone to fill that place, including Gavin. So I turn and push up my cheeks into a broad smile. It’s a fleeting effort, and Sasha eyes me suspiciously.

  “Do you want to meet our guest?”

  “Absolutely!” It comes out more enthusiastically than I intended and she steps back, brows arched.

  “Yeah, right. Well, come on then.”

  I try to put a bounce in my step; as if I don’t mind the way the girl presses her slim frame into Gavin’s body. As if I’m not unnerved by her perfect posture and radiant skin. She has a glow, and I’m not on Euphorium. Sasha glances back and rakes me over with her eyes. I walk normally.

  Mary breaks away from the group to greet me, wrapping her hands around my waist and walking to the table with me. What I wouldn’t give to carry Mary around in my pocket. I could take her with me everywhere I go, and anytime I felt an ache in my chest, Mary would be there to make my heart sing again. Maybe it’s better this way. Gavin is a distraction. My friends’ lives are at stake. Kids’ lives, Gavin would say. That’s what I need to focus on.

  When Mary lets go, she sits on the crate next to Ry. I move between them and lean across the table to shake the blonde’s hand, cutting the laughter with my body.

  “I’m Tabitha.”

  The girl’s eyes, blue and as big as walnuts, flash to me. Our hands touch and I gasp, retracting my arm as if I were about to pet a poisonous snake.

  Ry elbows me in the thigh. “That was rude.”

  I see Gavin glare in my periphery, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

  “You work at the Center.” My voice comes out like an accusation. I’m almost certain she’s the receptionist Ms. Preen snubbed.

  The room is quiet.

  “That’s right…” She keeps her hand out, waiting for me to shake it. Gavin shifts his stance.

  I suppress a scowl and take her hand. My grip is tight, and her nose scrunches when I squeeze her fingers.

  “So you two have met before?” Sasha asks. She makes no effort to hide her amusement.

  “Something like that,” I say.

  “Cherry is one of our inside sources,” Gavin beams.

  She’s named after a fruit?

  Cherry puts her hands on Gavin’s chest like she’s embarrassed, but her eyes tell a different story. I don’t trust her. Not. One. Bit.

  “Cherry played a role in getting you out,” Gavin says to me.

  I want to crawl under the table. This girl, whose beauty is so captivating I want to throw mud on her just to level the playing field, is supposed to be my savior?

  Her smile widens. “I was just doing what I could to help.”

  Mary’s chin is propped in her hands, basking in Cherry’s glow, entranced by the living doll in front of her. For a moment, I think about covering Mary’s undamaged eye, letting her see Cherry as a smeared image instead. I’m being petty and I know it. I have to figure out how to tuck my jealously down deep and lock it away.

  “Thank you,” I say, making sure to smile. I mean it. I am grateful. But when the words come out, there’s a bitt
er aftertaste. I don’t think saving me was her main objective.

  As if he can still feel the tension, Gavin offers to show her around.

  “Show me where you sleep,” she says in a low voice. She struts past me in a tight blue top that accentuates her eyes—among other things—and strappy heels that make my feet hurt when I look at them.

  I’m still staring when Adrian pokes me in the shoulder. “Want a donut?” he asks when I turn to him. He licks a bit of white powder from his fingers. “Cherry brought them.”

  Of course she did. I refrain from hinting they might be laced and instead shake my head. It’s only now I realize everyone else has left the table. In fact, Adrian and I are the only two in the room beside Cherry and Gavin. Behind me, I hear her laugh and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. It’s a sound that doesn’t belong here. Don’t they realize they’re harboring an intruder?

  Adrian closes the box of donuts and gets up.

  “Can I help you with anything?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant as I stand in his path. “Do you have something that needs to be put together, or maybe you just want some company?”

  He looks up at me with surprise then shrugs. “Sure. Grab some rags and meet me in the hall.”

  Gavin and Cherry are walking the perimeter of the room, and I hurry to the cabinet to grab what I need. I estimate I have twenty seconds to get the rags and get out of the room before they reach me.

  But I’m wrong.

  I block my face with the cabinet door when they approach. There’s a knock on the wood, and when I glance down I see Gavin’s shoes—ragged sneakers, just like mine.

  I peek around the door. Gavin stands with his hands on his hips, smiling. He’s so relaxed it’s disheartening.

  “Cherry says you had the fastest sprints at the Center.” He opens his body so that the three of us are in an awkward triangle. Cherry brings her perky breasts closer to him, and it’s clear I’m the odd angle in the isosceles. I can’t help but think she’s doing it on purpose. “And that you held your breath underwater for more than two minutes? That’s impressive.”

  How do I respond? I can’t think of the right words, so I nod and turn my face toward the inside of the cabinet. I grab a sock that will have to double as a rag and shut the door. “Gotta go help Adrian.”