by K. T. Hanna
What I wasn’t expecting was for one of the study conference rooms to hold the majority of my friends—and my brother. Orion opened the door for me, motioning for me to enter the room first, and it was too late for me to back out once I’d realized exactly what I was in for.
This looked suspiciously like an intervention. And while I attempted to backpedal, Orion blocked the door, his face a pretty convincing thundercloud. This was what I got for trying to protect them?
Warning. Watch what you say in this room. Tread Carefully.
You sound worried, I directed at it, unable to mask all of my irritation. It wouldn’t do to lose control, even just a tiny bit.
I would hate to have to terminate your SC contract. Watch what you say.
Well, that sounded actually like it was pleading with me. Okay. I could do that. Still though, I wasn’t in the mood to play nice with my friends. What did they think they were doing? I crossed my arms and directed my best glare their way.
My brother spoke up first, his eyebrows raised and his tone as jokingly nonchalant as it always was when he was trying to get on someone’s good side. “What’s with that stance, Dare? You seem hostile, and I haven’t seen you for ages.”
“Hostile?” I almost spat the word out and had to take a deep breath to right myself again. “How else am I supposed to react when Orion escorts me to a room full of my closest friends, and my brother, looking like they want to chastise me? Not to mention—stop babying me. I’ll call in every now and again. Give it a rest Dav. If I was using drugs or drinking, I’d think this was some sort of intervention.”
At least Dav had the good grace to blush. I mean seriously, people. Electrical charge began to build under my skin. It prickled just underneath, like it was waiting to burst out the first chance it got. I fought against it, amazed at the calm I felt.
“We’re just concerned, Dare.” Orion let the door fall closed behind him as he gave me a wide berth before coming to stand in front of me. He was doing his best not to frown, but the lines on his forehead hadn’t completely smoothed out. “Since this accident, you’ve been avoiding us, or absentminded, or just not yourself. All we want to do is let you know we’re all here if you need us, no matter what.”
He had a point, and I knew it. Taking a deep breath, I gave myself a three count before speaking. “Look, I get it. But it’s amazing what getting electrocuted can do to your brain. I’ve had a lot of thoughts to deal with, a lot of realizations. I got lucky. Really lucky. But the whole experience shook me up. I didn’t want to take that out on you guys. You, of all people, should know I sometimes have a quick temper.”
I wasn’t precisely lying. After all, it did expand my brain so to speak, and I had a lot to deal with when it came to this program. Orion was trying not to smile, because he’d witnessed my temper more than anyone else there.
Cyan frowned, and for once her sparklines was absent. Somehow that made her hair appear duller than usual. “Still, though. You haven’t avoided me in the three years I’ve known you, until the last couple of weeks. We all love you, and we’re worried about you. That’s all.”
She sounded genuinely upset, and I regretted hurting her feelings. But I also didn’t. It had only been two weeks. Give a person some time to deal with a near death experience people. While I didn’t have control, keeping them at arm’s length was better for all of us. Not to mention if I let something slip they’d be terminated.
We don’t kill civilians.
What?
To kill civilians would negate the purpose of the Second Chance program, which is to protect human life and the earth in their cohabitation. We only activate the program should the cause of death be useful to our goals. The only person who will suffer if you were to breach your contract is yourself. Since you should have died, it doesn’t violate the don’t-kill-civilians directive. Short term memories are easy to alter. That is all that would happen to these people you hold in such high regard.
That was a mind-blowing statement and a half. Was I supposed to ask specific questions? They really needed to reevaluate their orientation into the program. Because the amount of shit it hadn’t told me was ridiculous. It should be easier to protect them this way. Watch my tongue. Don’t let them see anything odd.
It was so easy to forget that time didn’t stop and let me discuss shit with my newly-acquired inner voice. No, while I was conversing with SC, my friends had been talking to me and I’d failed to respond.
“Sorry. Could you say that again?” I tried my best to appear contrite, and I wasn’t sure how successful I was. It made me wish Cyan’s friend Sam was here. I’d never met anyone who could diffuse situations so easily. Neale, Levi, Cyan, Dav, and Orion were, and they all appeared concerned by my inattention.
Neale sighed and crossed his arms. Even in lecturing mode his eyes never lost that twinkle of kindness. “We want you to talk to us, tell us what’s going on in that head of yours. I know how much the pressure of winning in sports can pile up until you feel like you’re going to explode. I’m always willing to listen unless I’m actively playing. You should know that.”
And I did. Although his choice of words made me have to bite my tongue. “I know. I’m sorry.” My left arm began to pulse, like it was reminding me how much had been left behind, how much had really changed. That as much as I might wish it to, nothing could ever go back to what it was.
I barreled on before anyone could choose to interrupt, clutching at my left arm to try and get the throbbing to abate. “I’m okay, seriously, and I don’t plan on staying just ok. This whole scar deal is not what it’s cracked up to be. And how I got it, I’m still dealing with that, and you have to let me. You need to understand that it’s not something you can assist with.”
I could see relief in all of their faces at my finally speaking to them. Every one of them except Orion. He side-eyed me from where he stood, his entire body rigid with disbelief. Had I slipped up somehow?
It was working on the others though. I did need more time, and more space to think. Only it was about how to exert control, and just what SC did, and how everything really fit together. They were right in that I’d become withdrawn, but I really hoped they could understand why.
Dav rolled his shoulders and pushed his brown hair out of his eyes. “You know mom worries. You’re the youngest, it’s a burden, but she just needs to hear from you.”
I held up my hand. I still wasn’t even sure why he was here. “But I’ll check in as time allows. I’ll even text her more frequently. But stop tracking me, that’s not okay.”
“I get it.” Dev appeared a bit sheepish, but concern still peered out from under his shaggy eyebrows. I didn’t think my big brother would ever stop trying to protect me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be heavy handed. The accident worried us, especially since you didn’t really tell anyone.”
That’s what I got for being the responsible one. Always on time, always organized, organizing everyone else, not to mention my grades and track history. But that was just it. I worked for everything. It didn’t come easy. I trained until I could run like the wind all day and night. My grades came from studying. It was going to take so much effort to maintain the latter with these stupid assignments.
But now, everything was different. Maybe not for him, but it was for me. I was stronger, faster, more capable of taking care of myself than ever before. They just had to let me.
“I mean it, Dav. I just...it’s been a lot to take on my plate, and I need some space.” I deliberately met his eyes, and he flinched. I’d never made him flinch in my life.
This is necessary to maintain your cover.
Thank you, Sherlock.
A slight shiver of resentment spiraled down my spine, and now I’d probably pissed off the SC system. Because that was exactly how great my life was going today. The pins and needles under my skin began to ache.
Cyan walked around
the table and placed a hand on my shoulder, locking her bright eyes onto mine. Some of her sparkle had returned. “Just because you’re the responsible one doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help sometimes.”
Which was precisely why sometimes I just didn’t want to be around Cyan. Her ability to look into people and see what was up with them was close to scary. Empath was what she called herself. I secretly thought she might be half-witch. “Thanks. I’ll remember that. It’s nice to hear you say you’re there, even though I kind of knew it. I just need some time for me.”
Even Levi smiled this time, not that he’d said anything anyway. Excellent. I was finally getting through to people.
“Thanks, guys. Really, there’s no need to worry.”
Neale jumped the table and slung an arm around my shoulder, giving me a brief hug mostly disguised as using me as a resting stop. “Stop worrying us, Dare. We worry about our friends.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.” I disentangled myself from his grip and gave him a smile and fist bump, ignoring the sparks fighting for attention in my mind. “Thanks.”
Levi appeared to have chosen to walk around the table before saying goodbye. Probably the best idea since jumping the table like Neale had done would only result in dear Levi faceplanting the floor in a spectacular fashion. Hell, he almost tripped over his own feet on the way around the table anyway.
“Trust me, I know how irritating it can be to think no one understands you. But even if we don’t understand, we’re still here for you.” Levi smiled and gave me a quick hug.
He’d been a hugger as long as I’d known him, and they were never intrusive, just a sharing of gesture that, when used correctly, could replenish and not steal. I’d not expected his words to be so wise, though.
Dav stopped in front of me before leaving. “Look. I’m here when you do want to come and see someone. I’m always here for you. Hell, I drove two hours for this. I always will. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know. And ditto.” I smiled and gave him a real hug. Family was an exception, and Dav had one of the best hugs I’d ever experienced. But I pulled away and looked him straight in the eye. “Just let me grow up now.”
I watched them file out of the room, my heart slightly bitter. They’d meant well, but damn, it had only been like twelve days. My friends cared. Seriously cared. As long as I watched my mouth, they’d be fine. Unless they saw something they weren’t supposed to. Like if they kept spying on me.
Irrational anger went away with a few deep breaths. I knew instantly I had to be better about dealing with it immediately, because otherwise it fed my ability, which gobbled it greedily, expanding it for later consumption.
I let the pent-up breath whoosh out of me in a sigh, only to realize that someone still stood behind me, and they were tapping their foot impatiently. Slowly, I turned around to find Orion standing there, leaning against the huge table with his arms crossed. His face told me not to dare lie to him because he’d know that I was.
“You’ve got them fooled, you know,” he said to me in that deeper version of his voice that told me just how pissed off he was. His feet were planted firmly on the ground letting me know he wasn’t going anywhere until we sorted this out. I resisted rolling my eyes.
“Fooled about what?” I fished, to see what it was that he actually knew.
He raised an eyebrow. “Fooled them into believing that the accident wasn’t really a big deal. You’re secretive now. You come and go at odd hours, and lately you’ve eaten out a few times. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you started selling drugs, because you’ve changed, and your lifestyle has changed, and I need you to trust me.”
“Drugs? I didn’t realize you thought so little of me.” Anger stirred in my stomach and began to climb up like it wanted to exit through my mouth, pulsing and crackling the whole time. “I’m not doing drugs, nor am I selling drugs. You should know me better than that.”
“But do I?” His answer was so fast on the heel of what I’d said that I wondered how he timed it so well. What hurt the most was that he said it at all. “You used to tell me everything. We’ve always been super close. But now? You don’t even eat with me, you don’t have lunch with us, and I haven’t seen you at any of our study sessions since you had that damned accident.”
“It’s been twelve fucking days, Orion. It might take me a tad longer to get over, oh, I don’t know, being electrocuted?” The words were out of my mouth so fast, I didn’t have time to bite them back. And it felt so much better with them out there. Frustration partially expelled without blowing up anything. Win for me.
He eyed me, like he was processing my words because he hadn’t thought of that aspect. “No. There’s something you’re not telling me. And even if you share it with no one else, I don’t understand why you won’t tell me.”
He was genuinely upset, and I hated that I was the cause of it. But I couldn’t tell him. Even if I wanted to, the system would literally shut me down. I just wanted to live, and it was going to take me more than two weeks to figure out how I was meant to juggle SC and a super power, while maintaining my life.
“I’m sorry,” was all I could think of to say, and it didn’t seem to placate him even slightly.
“Fine. It’s fine.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I get it in ways you couldn’t possibly understand. I’m still here, and I always will be. But I won’t forget that you don’t trust me enough to tell me whatever is on your mind. Shutting me out like this isn’t good—for either of us.”
The scowl on his face was unfamiliar to me, and he pushed himself away from where he stood, heading for the door. He didn’t even give me a hug, and I could feel the waves of anger rolling off him—directed at me, for the first time in my life, and I found it fearsome.
Orion and I had never fought. Not in as long as I could remember. We’d known each other since we were three, if I believed what our mothers said. Two months apart, we’d basically been thrown together as soon as the Majors moved in next door. Orion was a middle child of five, while I was the youngest in our family, but we didn’t care what our siblings thought of one another. All we cared about was having someone who was always on our side, because in big families, you needed to have someone on your side. Even in my earliest memories, Orion was always there. We studied together, we played together, we joined sports teams together. At least until we hit middle school, anyway. Orion wasn’t the most athletically-inclined person. In middle school he joined the science club and set himself on the road to academic greatness. Me? I joined the athletics club—running, to be specific—and never looked back.
My grades were a result of determination on both mine and Orion’s parts. We’d been talking about going to college together, about pursuing dreams. I wanted to compete in the Olympics as a long-distance runner and work my way toward a Cyber Security masters so when I retired from competition, I could do the other thing I loved. Computers were my entire life. Building them, learning how to code, how to create our own virtual worlds—it was expression at its finest and allowed a measure of freedom my brain only seemed to find in running otherwise.
Orion entered medicine. Cancer stole his father when he was twelve, and he’d decided on his career choice three days afterward. Medical research and the cure for cancer. Noble, but sad at the same time. That it took losing someone to cement the idea only hurt more.
I never thought he’d give up on me so easily. After such a history, what was two fucking weeks? Was I right to be so angry at him? I wouldn’t give up on him after two weeks of weird behavior. Sure, I’d be worried, but not angry. Our friendship meant a hell of a lot more to me than that. But apparently, I’d read him wrong.
Trembling, I lowered myself to the floor, not caring that no one was in there with me anymore, only caring about the tenuous thread my friendship seemed to be dangling from. Only aware of the way my blood seemed to boi
l, the way anger began to seep into my skin.
I attempted to take steadying breaths, focusing on the memory of my mother’s voice. The force inside me ebbed a bit and I allowed my mind to rest for a moment. If I’d died, none of this would be a problem right now. My friends would be mourning me instead of overly protective of me And I’d be oblivious, being dead and all.
I let myself fall back onto the carpeted floor, trying not to think about what had been on this carpet, how clean it was or wasn’t. Fine. My body zinged as I sat back up and stretched. I couldn’t let this fuck up my own track record. But my hands itched like I had ants crawling beneath my skin and I shuddered, releasing a small amount into my body. The pick me up leant me a bang of energy, but there was still more waiting to overflow. I looked around the room frantically to try and find a power outlet.
Spying one over by the entrance I took the few steps to it, listened for a moment to make sure no one was walking outside, and placed my fingers against the sockets. I could still vaguely remember my mother telling me not to play with the plug-ins as a child, using her typically Australian expression for the device. My defiance, even as an adult, brought a smile to my face. I did so hate wasting this energy, but I didn’t have anywhere else to send it right now.
Focusing on the tips of my fingers, I willed the electricity that was flitting around in my body, trying to overflow, to gather at that point. When I thought most of it had, I released the pent-up energy.
The lights in the room flickered more severely than they’d done last time, down to a point they almost turned off multiple times. It took several seconds for everything to settle. But I didn’t care because the release it gave me was worth it. It allowed me to clear my head, to usher in reason over my obstinance. My skin buzzed this time, feeling alive, and for just a moment I was invincible. It was all I needed to kick myself out of that funk.
Screw this shit.
I shook myself off before exiting the room and heading to my lecture. I had bills to pay and shit to do, and I was so over all of this guilt I felt at being alive, at being different and not being able to tell anyone. Not to mention the amount of practice I was putting in to get this ability crap under control.