Balancer

by Patrick Wong

  Glancing down the Web page, he was surprised to find the girls’ YouTube followers had now beaten the 500 mark — a huge increase in just a short amount of time. Given that there were at least thirty unanswered posts at the bottom of the page, Ben concluded that the pair hadn’t been online again that day.

  I wonder whether Nicole knows about the fish kill at Flour Mill Run?

  The WBN reporter’s newscast had been brief and to the point. The FBI was investigating a number of leads, including natural causes as well as bioterrorism. The reporter had been calm and breezy this time, which, Ben thought, was rather different from her excitable appearance following the animal carcass formation after the wildfire. Her casual attitude hadn’t reassured Ben, who’d been interested in the paranormal long enough to realize that two oddities in as many weeks wasn’t likely a coincidence.

  He Googled about animal formations and had to scroll through more pages than he’d care to remember to find theories on animal deaths and alien invasion. He thought he’d hit the bull’s-eye when he found a website all about animal sacrifices, and he made some hasty notes about how some ancient peoples believed animal sacrifices could heal a human. But could that mean there was someone lurking around Reston making animal sacrifices to help cure people and their pets?

  He added animal sacrifices to a cut-and-paste crib sheet he was assembling of all of the possible causes of the wildfire. Among the current headings were “bioterrorism,” “anarchist groups” and “common causes of wildfires.”

  Ben tidied up the document and read through it all again. Satisfied, he password-protected the file and attached it to a message he wrote on AmesAndNix.com. It simply said: “Nicole. Please read. The password is the note I wrote you in class. NewBenKenobi”

  He would now need Nicole to fill in the gaps of his research. After a deep breath, he pressed Send, scooped up the spaghetti to take down to the garbage disposal, and closed his laptop.

  He turned off the light in his room, hoping that by the time he got back from the party, Nicole would have replied — for her sake more than his.

  Pancakes of Friendship

  It was a warm September evening, and the leaves were just beginning to turn on the large cedar trees flanking the edges of the Wainwrights’ sizeable property. Oak Wood seniors had a tradition of back-to-school parties, and this one was turning out awesome by any standard. About fifty classmates were seeing off the summer by hanging out, dancing and joking. The music boomed at a respectful level through speakers wired up to the living room sound system, and laughs as well as shouts went up every now and then. Farther out by the deck, a few girls sat huddled together. One of them had been crying, and her friends were now trying their best to get her back into the party spirit.

  There were rumors of other parties going on across the neighborhood, but Reese Wainwright’s had seemed to Nicole and Amy to be the best bet. It didn’t hurt that Reese had the biggest pool or that her older brother was universally considered “hot.” Vaughn and a few of his friends were currently holed up in the fully furnished treehouse at the back of the Wainwrights’ large garden, there as a “responsible” presence in case of any trouble or accidents.

  Nicole watched her friend Reilly glide effortlessly past the pool and through the main throngs of partygoers, carrying two cans of soda and balancing a plate of loaded nachos before winding up at her side, beaming. She handed Nicole a drink and a fork and, after a slurp on her own soda, leaned closer with a conspiratorial look.

  “I think I saw them by the hot tub.”

  Nicole nodded, unsure of what face to pull, so she dug into the nachos. She should have been thrilled that Drake had finally gotten around to asking Amy out on a date. She’d certainly heard every single detail of how it had happened earlier in the day.

  Rather than feeling alone at the party without Amy, Nicole was relieved in a way. Truth be told, she was pleased to spend time with Reilly for a change. Amy could be so high-maintenance at times. Reilly was a return to normalcy and a welcome break from Elise and Charlie and being a hero.

  Just then, a shriek went up, and a tall, skinny blond boy — who Nicole recognized as her desk partner from English class, Dean — cannonballed into the pool, sending up a torrential wave of water. The large splash made a tremendous kerplunk! and saturated all those close by. Nicole felt the cold water hit first, and within seconds her pretty navy summer dress was soaked. Laughter rang all around her, and she felt her hair clip slide down her face along with a clump of chlorine-drenched wet hair. She suspected some of her mascara may have gone that way too, and she felt grateful, at least, for the swimsuit she’d worn underneath her clothing. Half-wet, half-dry, she imagined she looked hilarious, and when Dean surfaced, he pointed at Nicole and practically choked with laughter.

  Reilly had come off little better, but she still giggled at the sight of Nicole. Nicole spent a few moments reeling, then, without a second’s more thought, she handed Reilly her drink, flung off her dress and dived in after Dean. Reilly cheered, and Nicole could hear the delighted shouts of others as she powered through the water toward Dean with uncharacteristic fury.

  Nicole thought she would probably remember the next look on Dean’s face forever. Her friend turned and stared at her, wide-eyed and, unfortunately for him, open-mouthed. She launched at him with all of her might. Further furious splashing of partygoers ensued, the result of Nicole pushing Dean firmly down and delivering the dunking of his life. A few seconds later, when Nicole was satisfied he’d splashed about long enough, she released him to the cheers of her new fans. Dean gasped for air as he crawled out of the water and out of the spotlight. Nicole coolly swam back to the pool steps.

  Vaughn was waiting for her there, standing casually in board shorts, a loose-fitting cotton shirt and flip-flops. He threw her a towel as she climbed out of the pool and tried to stifle a grin when she thanked him for helping her. Nicole uttered a feeble apology for all of the mess. She could find no trace of disapproval on Vaughn’s face.

  She received some gentle punches on her arm, a few impressed comments and one or two high-fives as she made her way to the downstairs bathroom and the party got back into full swing.

  *

  Amy was waiting outside for Nicole when she emerged, a good deal drier and warmer than before. She handed Nicole a fresh soda.

  “Was I awesome?” Nicole accepted the drink and gulped it down. Dunking taller boys in pools was thirsty work.

  “Apparently you were quite awesome.” Amy’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Dean is so busted. Drake says he’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “So you and Drake, huh?”

  “I know. He cornered me and I couldn’t get away.”

  “It must have been such a struggle!”

  “Come on, Nix,” she appealed. “He wanted to talk about tomorrow night’s date and what we’re going to see and kind of … just talk.” Amy twirled her hair around her finger. “Do you know what he said? This is so funny — you’re going to laugh …”

  Nicole fixed a smile as Amy recounted Drake’s words — illustrating them with swooping hand movements — and she dutifully laughed at the punch line. It was quite funny, but it ranked with all of the other somewhat amusing things that Drake and his friends — and now Amy — found beyond hilarious.

  Nicole wasn’t giving Amy the type of reaction she was looking for. “What is with you tonight?”

  “Nothing. I’m just a little tired. It’s been a long week,” Nicole said.

  “Well, Drake and I are about to be headliners now, so you don’t have to worry about being the center of attention anymore. You should’ve seen the way those girls from P.E. class were staring at us earlier. This must be what it’s like being stalked by paparazzi!”

  Nicole laughed. This was another example of why she could never be cross with Amy for long.

  “Hey, look. There’s Dean. We should totally go over there and gloat,” Amy said. It was a peace offering, and Nicole took it wholeheartedly.


  The next couple of hours or so whizzed by. When Amy wandered off to talk with Drake some more about the “Saturdate” — surely now the most anticipated and organized date in history — Nicole found she didn’t mind at all.

  As night fell, a cooling breeze blew up, rustling the cedars and seeming to have a delightful chilling effect on everyone at the party. Toward eleven, Nicole found herself gathered in a circle with others on the deck, the music now playing low. A few candles were burning in storm lamps scattered around the last of the partygoers, who were draped in blankets and sipping hot drinks.

  The stars were bright that night, briefly reminding Nicole of the fateful evening of the wildfire. In fact, she was so busy craning up at the sky to locate Pleiades again that she lost track of the flow of conversation, and when she tried to rejoin it, she found she couldn’t catch on to the subject.

  She caught a yawn, realizing that she was actually really tired, and looked around to see whether she could spot Amy.

  Getting up, she offered Reilly her blanket and headed toward the house, with a pretty good idea of where she’d find her friend. Sure enough, the large, comfortable, terra-cotta-tiled kitchen yielded Amy. She was sitting on one of the counters, legs dangling, while Drake was busy fixing some pancakes.

  “Hey,” Nicole waved casually.

  Amy grinned at her, and Drake flipped the pancakes perfectly. “Nice swim earlier, Nix.”

  “Thanks, Drake.” She offered her best warm smile. “I see Amy’s got you in the kitchen already.” They both laughed. Amy pretended to kick Nicole, but was evidently basking in the attention.

  As Drake transferred the lacy, golden pancake to a warm plate and poured more batter in the pan, Nicole quickly got Amy’s attention and pointed at her watch. Her best friend silently gasped as though she had no idea of the time, even though there was a large vintage clock on the Wainwrights’ kitchen wall.

  “Guarantees a first date every time,” Drake said over his shoulder, twisting the pan to level the pancake mix, oblivious to the frantic sign language going on.

  Amy indicated down at Drake’s pancakes and shrugged. She flashed up ten fingers.

  Ten minutes? Nicole could probably wait that long. Though would it really be only ten minutes? Presumably there’d be some extended goodbyes involved. Deciding quickly, Nicole nodded and gave a thumbs-up, which seemed to please Amy.

  Drake flipped the pancake and turned back to the girls.

  “I can take Amy home if you have a curfew, Nix.”

  Busted! Nicole and Amy grinned at one another.

  “That would be cool if it’s not out of your way,” Amy said, as casually as she could muster. “Do you mind, Nix?”

  “Nope. You guys go enjoy your pancakes.” She gave Amy a quick hug. Gave a little wave to Drake. And promised to text Amy when she got in.

  After thanking Reese and saying her goodbyes to her friends in the circle outside, Nicole headed out to the farthest gate, where she’d left her car.

  It had been a mixed kind of night, and it seemed like a long walk to her car. The growing noise of the cicadas’ last summer songs intermingled with the gentle rise and fall of chatter and laughter from the party, which tumbled on behind her.

  As she started her car and made her way along the Wainwrights’ long driveway, Nicole felt a little sad at the state of things. She missed Amy riding along at her side, noisily deconstructing their evening. The spare room at Nicole’s house had been prepped for both of them, and her mom had promised to make them pancakes for breakfast.

  Nicole hoped things would get back to the way they used to be.

  Zero to Hero

  “Hold still.” Nicole clenched her eyes shut as Amy applied a final sweep of eyeliner. Jokingly, she wriggled around in her seat like an impatient child, which made Amy laugh.

  “There. You can stop wriggling now!”

  Amy sat back beaming, and Nicole picked up a mirror to look at the result. She was relieved at what she found. The light rose colors Amy had picked were pretty and — as Nicole had as requested — took the edge off her summer freckles.

  “Nix. This is TV. It could be our big break!” Amy had insisted on wearing a strappy top emblazoned with “AmesAndNix.com” in an attempt to bring more traffic to their website. She had been debating whether to wear her hair long or back ever since Nicole’s mom had received the call from National Network News about a possible Skype interview. Drake apparently preferred her hair down.

  It had been like this for most of Saturday afternoon and evening — the phone had been ringing off the hook after the Allerton family had given an emotional interview to WBN praising Nicole’s bravery, which was then echoed by the policemen and firemen who were at the scene. Word had spread about Nicole’s feats of heroism, and it had become the “feel good” story that was taking the nation by storm.

  It was almost too much for Nicole. She knew most girls her age would give up most of their prized possessions and sell their pet to get this kind of media attention, but she felt uncomfortable about it, and had only agreed to the interview because Amy had been beyond excited about the prospect of being on live TV.

  Nicole’s mom had only permitted the interview to be held in her house with her present. Nicole had also heard her demanding that, if she agreed to this one interview, the girls would be left alone.

  So, instead of getting ready for a day of shopping and hanging out, her mom had spent the morning prepping the living room for a Skype interview at midday.

  Amy was just scooping up her hair in a sparkly clip when Nicole’s mom knocked on the bedroom door and entered.

  “You girls ready?”

  “Are we ever!” announced Amy, scrambling to her feet.

  She smiled. “You both look great!”

  Nicole noticed that, despite her reservations about the TV interview, her mom had made a real effort with her appearance. She’d swept back her wavy black hair and added a little makeup to her pale, delicate features. Nicole was so used to seeing her either in her ER gear or slouching about in everyday clothes that she’d forgotten how pretty she could look.

  “Does dad know?”

  “Yeah. He’s watching from his hotel room. He’ll call us after.”

  Nicole was pleased. The National Transportation Safety Board, or NTSB, had claimed her dad for another month’s investigation, and he was currently holed up in a hotel somewhere in Oregon after a passenger jet had been forced to make an emergency landing. Nicole always remarked how unfair it was that other people’s emergencies called her dad away — and how she didn’t even get the right to complain about it because he investigated big crashes, often involving fatalities. Even if she felt upset that she wouldn’t get to see her dad for days at a time, she could always be brought to her senses by the reality that some unfortunate family had just lost a loved one forever.

  “The network emailed us their advance questions. They’re printed out downstairs. Go have a look,” Nicole’s mom urged. Nicole’s heart leapt at this turn of events, as she’d hardly slept at all out of fear of being cornered on TV. All night she had been tossing and turning, worrying about the sneaky questions a Network News anchor might ask about Elise’s “miracle recovery.”

  As Nicole made her way downstairs, she heard her mom call out to Amy. She glanced back to see that Amy was redoing her hair clip and the pair were talking quietly.

  In the dining room, Nicole found her mom’s laptop next to the printout of questions. A quick glance down confirmed that there was nothing other than the vague questions Nicole had expected, and she was relieved. After this, maybe she and Amy would be able to get back to normal and put all of the weirdness behind them.

  With her mom’s footsteps creaking down the stairs, the Skype program began to ring. Nicole pressed the answer button and the video screen appeared. Her heart pounded — almost as much as it had during the wildfire. But instead of the anchorwoman she was expecting, a hurried and tired-looking guy appeared.

 
; “Hey. You must be Nicole?”

  “Yeah. Hi.”

  “I’m Adam, the producer. We’ll get you live on air in about five minutes, OK? Anchorwoman Rhia Frazer will come say hi first. You’ve got the questions there?”

  Nicole’s mom sat down in the chair beside her as the producer continued his soothing patter, preparing both of them for how the interview would go and repeatedly assuring them it would be as easy as chatting with a friend.

  Time was ticking away, and Nicole realized Amy was still nowhere to be seen. She glanced around nervously — surely Amy wasn’t going to try to be fashionably late for their TV interview?

  Just then, the producer gave up his chair for Rhia, who offered a pristine smile. “Hi there. We’ve gone to commercial, so it’s almost time for you. How you feeling?”

  “OK,” Nicole answered. “We’re not quite ready because Amy’s still not here.” She looked at her mom, anguished. “I’ll go get her?”

  Her mom stared back at her, and from the expression on her mom’s face, Nicole realized that plans had changed.

  Sure enough, Amy eased into the dining room and leaned by the wall. She gave a thumbs-up to Nicole and did her best to grin, but Nicole knew her friend too well and could see she was trying to cover up what must have been bitter disappointment.

  Nicole looked back to the anchorwoman, who had heard all that had gone on.

  “Nicole, your mom wanted you on air for a maximum of ten minutes, and so I’m afraid we just needed you and your mom together. You were the rescuer, right?”

  “Sure, but Amy …”

  “It’s OK, Nicole. I explained,” her mom reassured.

  But it wasn’t OK. Not for Nicole. Amy was supposed to be with her — by her side and doing all the talking. They’d worked it all out.

  Nicole’s anxiety rose again.

  The anchorwoman looked across at her producer. “OK, we’re going live in a few moments. Nicole, Dr. Aaronson, are you ready?”