“Except without any evidence,” I reminded them. “No physical proof that anything ever happened.”
“Who’d ever guess that the safest town in America is a virtual prison?” Jackson angrily observed, staring out at Barrington down below.
“Our own parents knew all this and kept silent.” Oliver cringed.
“Money makes the world go round, guys,” I cynically stated, thinking about my dad. “Depressing, but true.” Was that why my dad cooperated with Cochran? Just for money? That didn’t seem like the dad I knew and loved. Or did he have some other reason? Whatever the truth, I felt sick and betrayed.
“Why us?” Oliver shook his head, clearly undone by all the revelations. “Why are we the only ones who’ve changed? I mean, Nica just moved here. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Actually, I was born here too,” I confessed. “My mother moved away with me when I was two.”
“Even so. Most kids in this town were born here,” refuted Jackson, “and except for Maya, I think we might be the only ones.”
“We may not know why it’s happening to us,” I interjected, “but it seems more than possible that Bar Tech is involved.” I then turned to Jackson. “But you’ve suspected that for a while, haven’t you?”
Jackson nodded and ran his hands through his hair, obviously struggling with something.
“Does it have to do with Dana’s disappearance?” I asked delicately, hoping it would open the door for Jackson to confide in us.
“Yeah, I think it does,” he admitted somewhat reluctantly. “Dana had been interning at Bar Tech for a few months. Thought it would look great for college, working at a big Fortune 500 corporation. Anyway, next thing she’s hanging out in Cochran’s office a couple days a week after school.”
“How did that happen?” I asked, taking a seat next to Oliver on top of a large rock outcropping.
“Apparently, Chase mentioned something to his dad about Dana interning at Bar Tech. He called her in for a general meet and greet. She wasn’t expecting anything other than a hello, but she obviously impressed him enough that he gave her a shot.”
“To work in his office?” I sounded a bit skeptical.
“Dana was like that—she impressed everybody,” Oliver interjected.
Of course she did, I thought, as a little mocking voice snarked in my head. It was obvious that Dana had been Miss Perfect. Everything I was definitely not, nor could ever be. Suddenly I felt ashamed. I couldn’t believe I was feeling jealous of a missing girl I’d never met. I tried to redirect my focus to the here and now. “So what exactly was Dana doing for Cochran?”
“Mostly bullshit office stuff. E-mails, phone, answering correspondence. Nothing major. But then one day something happened. She wouldn’t say what it was, but she was acting really weird. Paranoid. When I pressed her about what was wrong, she shut me down. Insisted she couldn’t talk about it.”
“But you’re positive it had something to do with Bar Tech.” I always had the feeling Jackson knew more than he was letting on. And now he was finally coming clean with us.
“Absolutely,” Jackson affirmed without hesitation. “All Dana would say was that she’d been in the office late. Cochran had just returned from some secret Asian trip. She accidentally overheard him talking to someone about some classified government research project.”
I locked eyes with Jackson. I didn’t need much prompting to believe that the secret project Dana had found out about was connected to what was happening to all of us.
“What happened then?” Oliver chimed in, perched on the edge of the rock, riveted.
“The pulse happened,” Jackson replied sadly. “Dana showed up at my house late that night, after curfew. She was a mess. Had skipped school that day and hadn’t been able to eat or sleep. She was convinced that Cochran knew about what she’d overheard. Because he’d been asking her all sorts of questions that day.”
Jackson paused a beat, steeling himself with the memory of that night before continuing with his story. “Dana and I were in my car. I was trying to calm her down. I thought she was exaggerating. Then all of a sudden . . . wham . . . it hit. Like a sonic boom, only so close my body was literally vibrating from the force of energy.”
“What did you guys do?” I pushed, wanting to hear the full story.
“Nothing at first,” Jackson said. “We sat there, stunned. Not saying a word. Then, after a few minutes, when there were no alarms or fire trucks or sirens, I assumed it was just some weird lightning storm. So I drove Dana back to her house. Then I came home and went to sleep. Next morning everything seemed okay. Except for the frantic message I got from Dana on my way to school.”
“What did she say?” Oliver inquired with an awful sense of foreboding.
“Just that she was freaked out because Bar Tech Security had shown up at her house, wanting to question her. But that I should meet her in the quad at school before first period.”
“And she never showed,” I added somberly.
Jackson shook his head, confirming the fact. “I should’ve taken her more seriously. I should’ve done something.”
I really began to comprehend how much pain and guilt Jackson had been carrying around the last seven months.
“When did you know that Dana wasn’t making things up?” I asked. “What changed your mind?”
“When bolts of electricity shot out of my fingers and nearly killed my neighbor’s dog,” he admitted solemnly, looking at his hands as if they were deadly weapons. “The day that Dana . . . disappeared . . .” Jackson continued, “I went down the rabbit hole and didn’t want to come out. The next time the pulse hit, I became angrier and angrier and my powers grew stronger and stronger. Which only left me feeling more and more isolated and out of control. Then you arrived.” He stared at me meaningfully, as though he really cared about me.
Oliver noticed the look. I looked away, my face burning up from embarrassment, not knowing what to say or if this was the right moment to say it.
“Is there any doubt now that Bar Tech’s fingerprints are all over this? That they’re deeply involved in what’s happening here?” Oliver asked, looking at Jackson, then at me.
“None,” I responded, secretly thanking Oliver for changing the topic. “And that’s the reason you both have to promise not to say anything to anyone. We’ve got to protect Mrs. Henderson.”
“What about Maya?” Oliver asked. “Doesn’t she need to know?”
“Eventually,” Jackson asserted. “She’s dealing with enough crap right now.”
“Yeah. Chase is suspicious enough as it is,” I concurred. “No need to make it any harder on Maya than necessary.”
We all nodded and silently agreed to keep things confidential. What we had discovered was incredibly explosive. Who knew what the repercussions might be if it the truth got out? Or what might happen to us?
• • •
My dad came home early from the hospital that night. Luckily, I’d made it back from our clandestine rendezvous minutes before he walked through the door. I was already holed up in my bedroom pretending to be doing homework when Dad appeared at the door.
“Hey,” I said, barely looking up from my books.
“Feel like sushi?”
“Sure,” I replied with a tight smile. “You know what I like.” Then I buried my head back in my books, not wanting to reveal how disappointed and betrayed I was really feeling about him.
Dad suddenly tossed my coat at me. “C’mon, we’re going out. My treat.”
I hadn’t planned on this. “Can’t we just get takeout? I’ve got so much work.” I was in no mood to have to go out and be social with my dad. I didn’t think I could cope with my paranoia and with his prying questions.
“Nonsense,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up to my feet. “An hour won’t kill you.”
My father gave me no choice. I had to go. I swallowed down my anger and got into the Prius, hoping I could make it through dinner with my dad without making a
scene.
• • •
Dinner at Sushi Roku surprisingly turned out to be a welcome distraction: an island of family normalcy in an otherwise crazy universe. We sat at the sushi bar with a dozen other people, enjoying delicious sashimi and green tea ice cream. Dad was in a particularly talkative mood, asking all about how school was going. He was so sweet and caring that I couldn’t reconcile that this was the same man who was sharing medical secrets with Chase’s father. I’d been feeling so distant from him and upset that it was actually comforting to just be his little girl again and let him be my father again. If only for one night.
As we left the restaurant and walked out to the car, my dad started asking me about Chase. I was thrown. It was completely out of the blue.
“What about him?” I replied warily, wondering where this line of questioning was headed.
“Are you guys hanging out at all?”
“Me and Chase?” I laughed. “Hardly, Dad. What made you ask?”
“His father invited us over to dinner in a few weeks,” he responded pointedly. “Said you two met in town.”
“Oh, yeah. I’d almost forgotten.” I played it down, when the truth was I hadn’t forgotten a thing about my disturbing run-in with Chase’s dad that afternoon. “What did you tell him?”
“That I had to check my schedule,” he answered evasively as he got into the car. “Anyway, I thought you didn’t like Chase.”
“He’s okay,” I answered noncommittally, sliding into the passenger seat. I wasn’t about to tell my dad what I really thought about Chase and his creepy father.
“Then you won’t mind if I put it off for a while,” he announced as he started the engine.
“No,” I answered, relieved but also troubled by the conversation. Was my father deliberately trying to keep me away from Chase and his family? I hadn’t a clue, which only fueled my already simmering paranoia.
When we got home, I discovered that I had left my cell phone on the floor. A phone call had come in when I was out to dinner. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. I checked voice mail, but whoever called hadn’t left a message. Curious, I called the number back, and it went directly to Mrs. Henderson’s voice mail. I wondered what she wanted and started to leave a message but decided not to. Better to talk to Mrs. Henderson in person the next day at school.
• • •
I had forgotten that there was a big football playoff game the next afternoon, so the entire school was energized and focused on winning. First thing in the morning, the marching band was assembled in the quad playing a hip-hop version of the school anthem, cheered on by the student body. It was altogether too loud and too much spiritedness for me to deal with at seven forty-five a.m.
Especially since my mind was still replaying the disturbing details of what Mrs. Henderson had told me the day before. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I felt a bit guilty about breaking my promise to her and telling Oliver and Jackson about the incident. Not that I didn’t think they had a right to know, because they did. It was just that Mrs. Henderson had gone out on a major limb to confide in me. Maybe I was being naive, but I trusted her. I wanted to come clean and tell her the truth.
As soon as the lunch bell rang, I hurried down to Mrs. Henderson’s office. I was prepared to make a full confession and reassure her that we’d protect her identity and never betray her. I was also more than a little curious to find out why she’d called me last night. Her door was open, and I poked my head in, but she wasn’t at her desk.
“May I help you?” The voice came from behind me.
I spun around to see a pleasant but frumpily dressed woman in her fifties standing before me. “I’m looking for Mrs. Henderson. Is she at lunch?”
“Mrs. Henderson is not in today,” the frump said, as she walked right into Mrs. Henderson’s office.
“Oh? Is she sick or something?”
“Actually, Mrs. Henderson is no longer here.”
“What?” I stared at her, confused and thinking that I must’ve misheard what she said.
“Family emergency or something.” She revealed this fact with just the right touch of compassion. “I’m Mrs. Balato, by the way. I’ll be taking over for Mrs. Henderson.”
“Taking over? How long will she be gone?” I leaned against the door, trying to steady myself and process the information. My stomach felt queasy. I was afraid I might be sick on the frump’s clunky olive-green pumps.
“Not to worry. I’m a quick study,” the frump replied, confidently patting the stack of student files piled high on the desk. “I’ll be up to speed in no time.”
I turned and staggered out of the office as Mrs. Balato called after me: “Wait, dear! What’s your name?”
Next thing I knew I was aimlessly wandering the school halls, trying not to let my paranoia take over and cause me to flip out. After all, maybe Mrs. Henderson really did have a family emergency. That could have been the reason she called last night—to tell me why she wouldn’t be in school today. Before I jumped to any whacked-out conclusions, I needed to find Jackson and Oliver and tell them what happened.
No sooner did I reorient my internal GPS and head directly for the quad than Chase came barreling down the stairs.
“Nica, hey,” he shouted with a big smile, stopping in front of me. “Just the girl I’m looking for.”
“Sorry, Chase. I don’t know where Maya is,” I barked back, charging up the staircase past him.
“No problemo,” he replied, using the full extent of his Spanish-language skills. “ ’Cause I was actually looking for you.” Chase stayed on my heels, taking two steps at a time.
“Can’t this wait? I’m kind of in a rush,” I answered back, barely holding it together.
“It’s about Maya’s surprise party,” Chase announced. “Annie said you volunteered to help out.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Just text me what you need me to do.” What I needed was for Chase to leave me alone so that I could find Jackson and Oliver and tell them about Mrs. Henderson’s mysterious departure from school.
“Why is it I always get the feeling that you don’t like me?” Chase suddenly had this hangdog expression on his face.
“I like you,” I responded, wondering why the most confident guy in school needed reassuring. “I just don’t have time to soothe your wounded ego right now.”
“Ouch!” He snickered. “Guess I deserved that.” He politely held open the stairwell exit for me.
“Sorry,” I relented, acknowledging that he was trying not to be so intolerable. “Didn’t mean to be so harsh.” I breezed through the door past him outside to the quad.
“Prove it,” Chase challenged, like we were about to have an old-fashioned duel.
“Prove what?” I scanned the courtyard, half listening, hoping to locate Oliver or Jackson among the lunch crowd.
“That you like me,” Chase declared, flashing a flirtatious smile. “Make it up to me.”
“What are you talking about?” I snarked dismissively, when I saw Oliver waving me over to an empty table.
“Come over to my house after today’s game,” Chase said suggestively. “So we can get to know each other better.”
I stopped in my tracks and shot him an incredulous look. “You’re not really dumb enough to be hitting on me, are you?” Then I waved back to Oliver.
Chase shrugged audaciously, exuding a hefty dose of jockish swagger. “Is this ’cause of Jackson? ’Cause FYI: Dude’s still hung up on Dana, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“No. Actually it’s because you’re a total jerk,” I proclaimed with a sweet smile. “Not to mention Maya’s my friend.”
“She won’t mind,” he asserted.
“Well, I do.” I shook my head in disbelief and anger before marching away from Chase and heading directly over to Oliver.
“You stood me up for Mr. Perfect?” Oliver quipped as I arrived.
“Don’t even go there,” I snapped back in a foul mood.
&nbs
p; “Easy does it, Cujo,” Oliver chuckled, throwing up his hands defenselessly. “Don’t bite my head off.” He could see I was about ready to boil over. “What’s going on?”
I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the parking lot, far away from the other kids. Once we were safely out of everyone’s earshot, I let loose.
“Mrs. Henderson is gone,” I announced ominously.
“What do you mean, gone?” Oliver looked at me expectantly.
“No longer working here as of this morning,” I announced skeptically. “Some kind of family emergency.”
“Holy crap,” Oliver murmured. “Does Jackson know?”
“Not yet,” I replied, shaking my head. “I just found out myself.”
“Have you tried calling her?”
“No,” I confessed, feeling a bit foolish. “I was so spooked I didn’t know what to do.”
Oliver was right. I had to call Mrs. Henderson directly and find out what happened. I took out my cell phone and quickly dialed Mrs. Henderson’s number. I immediately got an automated recording: “This number is no longer in service . . .”
I hung up and stared at Oliver, pretty shaken.
“Well? Did it go to voice mail?” Oliver asked hopefully.
“No. Her number has been disconnected.” I was practically trembling, and I could see that Oliver was now worried too.
“How could anyone know she talked to you?” He looked around the lot nervously. The usual contingent of Bar Tech Security vehicles patrolled the school grounds.
“We passed a security car yesterday,” I whispered, as the blood drained from my face. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, even though Mrs. Henderson got anxious. Then she tried calling me last night. But I was out to dinner with my dad.”
“Did she leave a message?” Oliver’s eyes grew wide with worry.
I shook my head. “I didn’t leave one either. I figured I’d see her today. Oh my God, Oliver . . .”
“Let’s not go crazy just yet,” he commanded as if suddenly he were my dad. “Maybe she really did have a family emergency. Maybe her husband got sick.”
“It’s possible,” I nodded, desperately wanting to believe Oliver.
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