Pretty Monster

by Somers, Jill

  Dash stood. Quinn snuck a peek back over at Reese, who was watching them. He seemed curious, but not upset. She appreciated that.

  Dash and Quinn headed outside, picking up a walk without a direction in mind.

  “Look,” Dash said, “you should be in class. If you came here to talk about—”

  “It’s not about that,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t… Trust me, it’s not. It’s actually about this kid named Rory. Do you know her?”

  “I think so. The one who skipped class with you today? Electric abilities?”

  “That’s the one,” Quinn said grimly. “She talk to you lately?”

  “Yeah—just for a few seconds, though. She was so nervous, I kind of shrugged it off as a preteen crush or something. She said something about wanting my help with her abilities.”

  “It wasn’t a preteen crush. When she came to me this morning, she looked terrible. Like she hasn’t been sleeping. Like she’s afraid. I took her out shopping to try to cheer her up, but it’s more than her being in a bad mood. I think she does need you, Dash. Would you be able to help her?”

  “Not very easily,” he admitted. “I couldn’t take her into my class, if that’s what you’re asking. Savannah would never allow it. And I couldn’t help her in any kind of public place, either. There are rules about that kind of thing here. Again, all Savannah.” He rolled his eyes.

  “What sort of rules? Specifically?”

  “Well, really they’re just rules for me, and if I break them, I lose my job. Basically, they state that I teach who she tells me to teach, and no one else.”

  “And she has that kind of power?” Quinn asked, disgusted. “Just with, what, the wave of her hand?”

  “She can do whatever she wants, Quinn. She’s in charge around here.”

  Quinn sighed, frustrated. “But your classes—the way you run them. Rory says it’s different from the way they run power tech for kids. She says that Savannah watches those classes. Why doesn’t she watch yours?”

  “It’s complicated. She lets me do it my way because she expects me to report back to her about everyone’s abilities. She thinks having a record of who does what is necessary for Siloh’s safety, or something like that.”

  Quinn’s mind raced. Did this mean Reese had been right all along—that Savannah and Dash really were spying on Siloh’s inhabitants? “Do you do it? Report back to her?”

  “Yes and no,” he said uncomfortably. “I give her just enough… Not everything. Look, Quinn, this conversation is inevitably going to lead us to the same conversation I told you we couldn’t have. I can’t go there. Not yet.”

  She felt like she was always playing catch-up with him. Figuring him out. Waiting for him to tell her more. It was maddening, and yet consistently intriguing.

  “Look,” he said, stopping and turning to face her. There was encouragement and truth in his eyes for the first time that day. “Back to Rory. You don’t need me. She doesn’t need me. She has you.”

  “Me?” she repeated doubtfully. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “The same thing I do. Work with her. Engage her. Test her limits. Help her find them. Help her know them. Nine times out of ten, someone struggling with controlling their abilities really just needs to use them more, in a safe environment.”

  She had a feeling he was right. And yet… her, teach someone?

  “Give it a try,” he said. “If you find you’re not helping, or that she still needs more help, give me a call. I’ll do what I can. Okay? Do you have my number?”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “No,” she said, reaching for her phone, “but very smooth there, Dash. Slipped that right in.”

  He accepted her phone with a sarcastic look, programming his number in and handing it back to her. She pocketed it, grin fading as silence set in. The confusion that had brewed in both of their minds after the kiss was back; she could sense it.

  She half expected him to turn around and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “Have you gone to see him yet? Drax?”

  She shook her head. She hadn’t yet worked up the guts to actually face him. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

  “Actually, he does. He told me this morning in the medical wing.”

  She gaped at him, completely thrown. Drax wanted to see her? After what she had done to him?

  “Everyone involved in the YA training understands the risks, Quinn,” he told her. “Things happen. Mistakes are made.”

  “Usually not ones so intentional.”

  “You didn’t intend to hurt anyone but yourself,” he said, looking at her pointedly. “Which, frankly, is almost more concerning.”

  “There’s your first mistake,” she said, reverting back to the same line she had given Trent once. It was a line she had used for years, almost like a security blanket. It reminded both her and them that she needed no one but herself. “Don’t waste your time being concerned for me, Dash. It’ll more than likely drive you crazy.”

  His response was something no one had ever thought to say back to her. It was so simple, so straightforward, and yet so fearless.

  “Maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  And before she could respond, he turned back away from her and headed for the building.

  She stood there for a moment, not sure how to feel or what to think. She glanced past Dash and into the building. Through the glass she could see Reese sitting there, watching her, smiling politely. He gave her a wave. It didn’t seem to be the wave of a liar. Then again, it didn’t have half the passion of any exchange she’d ever had with Dash, either.

  Once again, she found herself wondering which brother was lying and which was telling the truth.

  • • •

  Knowing that there was no chance she’d make it to any class but power tech that day, she headed for the medical wing. She sent a text message to Rory as she walked, asking whether she would be free to meet up that Saturday for some practice. Rory responded almost instantly. Yes!

  It was easy to find Drax’s room in the medical wing; it was the only one with lights on. There were several visitors surrounding him when Quinn entered, Pence and Charlie included. Guess I’m not the only one skipping. She thought back to her own time there, and how Charlie and Haley had been there with her, and decided that maybe they weren’t as strict on attendance as Savannah and Reese had let on.

  Drax was still bedridden, though he looked better than she had feared. Bruised, certainly; swollen; but there didn’t seem to be anything broken.

  He smiled when he saw her, which surprised her right off the bat. What was wrong with him? Who smiled at their attacker?

  “Quinn,” he said, lifting a hand to wave her over. He winced slightly at the move, but said nothing of it.

  “Hi,” she said weakly, coming to join Pence and Charlie next to his bed. Both of them smiled politely enough at her, but she had a hard time believing it was genuine. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel great, actually. I know it sounds crazy, but I mean it. Quinn, I had no idea I could withstand something like that until then. All this time, I’ve been thinking I’d be virtually defenseless if something happened to us. Now I’m feeling just the opposite, and it’s thanks to you. Well, you and Haley.”

  She blinked. This certainly wasn’t what she had been expecting. It made sense, in a strange way. But she still didn’t deserve his kindness.

  “Drax, because of me, a tree fell on you. You could be dead. Don’t you at least hate me a little?”

  “Nope,” he said brightly, and then his expression grew more serious. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? For us to hate you? For us to distrust you? I could tell you were a lone wolf the moment I met you, but you’re just going to have to learn to deal with people around here caring about you, because I’m pretty sure we all do.”

  Quinn stared at him dubiously, turning her gaze toward Pence and Charlie, who both nodded in agreement.

  “You might be the most forgiving peop
le in the world,” she finally said, “but I doubt everyone feels that way about me. Not Haley. Not any more.”

  Pence and Charlie exchanged a look, and she inferred with a sinking heart that she was right.

  “Haley was hurt,” Drax said. “Hurt in a different way than me. But it’s within your right to practice compulsion during power tech. She knows that.”

  “She does,” Pence agreed. “I think more than anything she was just hurt that you avoided her afterwards. If not for Dash letting her know that you were okay, she would have thought you’d run away.”

  Quinn didn’t mention that running away had been her intention initially.

  “You should talk to her,” Drax said. “Class is almost over—you could meet her in your room. Talk it out. You both deserve it, Quinn. You’re good people, and you clearly care a lot for each other.”

  Quinn had never been good at ‘talking it out,’ but she knew he was right. “Okay,” she said, heaving a sigh. “I’ll go.”

  “Good. By the way… We’re having another party. This weekend.” He winked at her. “It’s for me this time.”

  • • •

  As Drax had predicted, Haley was already in their room when Quinn got back. She didn’t say anything when Quinn walked in, but she did look up at her. Quinn recognized that sad, disappointed expression. It was the same expression she had seen written all over the faces of the people whose hearts she had broken back in the real world. I’ve never been in love, she had told Dash. But people had been in love with her. Kurt included.

  “Look,” Quinn said, swallowing. “I’m sorry.”

  She had known, of course, that it wasn’t enough—wasn’t what Haley was looking for—but it was hard for her. With all those boys whose hearts she had broken, she hadn’t had to apologize. She hadn’t had to work things out with them. She had just moved on, gone somewhere new, started over. Again and again.

  Besides Kurt, of course. Kurt had always been the exception.

  “It was stupid,” Quinn continued. “I was angry at Dash over a conversation we’d just had. All I wanted when I compelled you was for you to attack me so I could, I don’t know, prove myself. Prove that I was tougher than him. Than all of you. It was selfish and stupid. But if I had known that it would hurt Drax…” She trailed off, casting her eyes downward.

  Haley gathered her thoughts for a moment. Finally, she spoke.

  “What is it with you and Dash?”

  This was Haley’s question? Of all the things Quinn had just said, of all the pain they had caused Drax, this was what she wanted to know about?

  “What… what do you mean?” Quinn stammered.

  “I mean, we knew about you before you ever got here. How you were with men. How they couldn’t shake you. Couldn’t win you over. Couldn’t have any effect on you whatsoever, from what we could tell. And then you came here, and our theories were confirmed. You barely blinked at Trent. But then, with Dash…”

  Quinn said nothing.

  “It was like your own rules flipped on you, all of a sudden,” Haley said. “I mean, that first day in the cafeteria, and every day since. You said you were wrong, didn’t you? That you didn’t really know him?”

  She had said that. She still didn’t really believe it, but she didn’t believe that Dash was lying, either. Why would he? What could possibly be his motivation for telling her that he didn’t remember her?

  “I guess,” she mumbled. “I don’t know. What does it matter?”

  “I like Dash. Really, I do. But between him, and his brother, and his mother… they’re all just… a bit of drama. And for someone like you, someone who’s a ticking time bomb, ready for the next thing to set her off… I just want you to be careful, Quinn.”

  This conversation was starting to remind Quinn of the ones she had just had with Drax and Dash. Conversations that should have been about her concerns for others turning into conversations about others’ concerns for her.

  People on this island really were too forgiving.

  Quinn was faced with two options. The first was to actually put a little trust into their friendship—to open up to Haley. The second was to do what she always did and shut her out.

  All of her instincts told her to shut Haley out. Her instincts had been trained ruthlessly for a decade to trust no one; they couldn’t change overnight. But it was about more than that. It was about getting Haley to forgive her. And for the first time, forgiveness mattered more than instinct.

  She opened up—as best she could.

  “Look… I know I’ve been letting him get to me more than I should. But it’s not what you think. I mean, yeah, I’m a little emotional when it comes to him. But the ticking time bomb thing—that’s just… me. That’s just my temper. The Drax thing could have happened because of something Angel said, or Trent, or whoever, if they’d picked the wrong thing to say.”

  She liked to think this was true, even if it wasn’t.

  “So, you don’t have feelings for him?” Haley asked. Point-blank.

  Quinn had to admire Haley’s no-bullshit personality. She didn’t sidle around things. She wasn’t subtle. She was who she was.

  “Sure, I do,” Quinn managed, only because she knew Haley would know if she was lying. “But that doesn’t mean I’d trust him as far as I could throw him. And it doesn’t mean I’d ever let myself really fall for him. It just means…” She considered her word choice carefully. “It means I’m infatuated with him.”

  Haley nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer for now. “Fair enough. That’s sort of how I feel about Trent, I guess.”

  Quinn knew for a fact that it wasn’t how Haley felt about Trent. The way Haley looked at Trent was pure, embarrassing adoration. The look of someone who had been ignored for too long.

  But, of course, she wouldn’t say any of this to Haley. Besides, she stood by her initial opinion: Haley was way too good for Trent.

  “Have you ever thought about finding someone else?” Quinn asked. “I mean, I know your options are kind of limited here, but maybe Tommy?”

  Quinn still wasn’t sure what Tommy’s abilities were. She had never had a single conversation with him. But he was in the YA, and he seemed nice enough. Quiet, maybe. Certainly a more sensible option than Trent.

  “I don’t know,” Haley said, frowning. “Tommy’s a nice guy, but I don’t think I could ever really be at ease, dating someone who could be invisibly spying on me at any given moment.”

  So that was Tommy’s ability, Quinn realized. It made sense that she hadn’t ever caught notice of it; it was the opposite of noticeable. She was impressed; she had never managed to render herself invisible.

  “Just promise me you’ll give it some thought,” Quinn said.

  “Okay. I guess this weekend would be a good opportunity for me to talk to him. Drax tell you about his party?”

  Quinn had almost forgotten. As Drax had pointed out to her before she left, she had spent much of the last party—her own party—on the roof, ignoring the majority of the guests. She had a feeling that if Dash made another appearance, that was exactly where she would be again. But she didn’t tell that to Haley, who was worried enough about her as it was.

  “Yeah, he did,” she said. “We should make it a good one, shouldn’t we? ‘We’re Glad You’re Alive’ themed?”

  “‘We’re Glad You’re Alive and Sorry We Almost Killed You.’ I think we should make a banner.”

  Quinn smiled, glad things were back to normal. “Absolutely.”

  • • •

  As the week came to a close, things mostly went back to normal—whatever ‘normal’ was on an island full of deviants. Drax recovered quickly, returning for a half-day of classes Thursday and a full day Friday. Dash continued to pair Quinn and Haley together in power tech, and Quinn didn’t dare attempt to compel Haley again.

  Dash was back to mostly ignoring her, but he wasn’t as rude as he had been when he was upset with her. If anything, he just seemed unsure—unsure of what to s
ay, how to act, even what to make of her. Every once in a while, she would catch him watching her—whether she was reading his book, blasting Haley’s tree roots with fire, or just staring off into space, thinking about Kurt. She would lock eyes with him, and for a split second that honesty would return—the feeling that, if she wanted to, she could compel him. And with that feeling, the desire to do nothing of the sort.

  Finally, the weekend came, and with it, the promise she had made to Rory: that she would help her control her power. A promise that she had intended to fulfill around ten or eleven in the morning, but one that came knocking a lot closer to eight.

  She groaned through Rory’s loud banging, tossing off her covers and glancing at herself in the mirror. She had thrown on a tank top and pajama shorts the night before. They didn’t look like daytime clothes, but she cared less and less each day about how anyone perceived her. Besides, the longer she spent focusing on her appearance, the louder Rory would knock.

  She decided that her pajamas were fine, opened the door, and followed Rory out to the practice field.

  She watched the girl as they walked, trying to gauge whether she looked better or worse than she had the last time they’d talked. Certainly not better, she decided. Same weathered expression, deep-set eyes, and limp hair. Her spirit still seemed subdued.

  “Tell me again,” Quinn said, forcing herself to engage the girl despite her own mental exhaustion. “What exactly has been happening to make you ask for help? You’ve been unintentionally hurting others? Yourself?”

  “Not myself; not the abilities themselves, anyway. But others, sometimes. Mostly in my sleep—I’ll kind of electrocute the whole room, bust it up pretty bad. They had to switch my roommates. They gave me this girl who’s got this weird, rubbery skin. The electricity doesn’t bother her.”

  “So, they know that you’re having these problems, but they haven’t done anything to help you? Who have you talked to besides me?”