by Ellery Kane
I sighed.
“You stay away from Emovere now, honey.” Both feet were out the door, and he was gone.
CHAPTER FORTY - ONE
THE FACE IN THE MIRROR
“LEX, MAY I COME IN?” I heard my father’s muffled voice from outside my bedroom door. I took a look in the mirror, smoothing my hair and dabbing my lips with gloss. I hadn’t told my father yet, but I was going to see Quin.
“Yes.” I tried not to sound annoyed.
“I wanted to—” My father stopped mid-sentence, appraising me. “You look nice. What’s the occasion?” He was accustomed to seeing me in T-shirts and jeans, my standard uniform. The last time I wore this silky green top, I was standing in a corner in my school gymnasium my junior year, waiting in vain for someone to ask me to dance. I hoped it would bring me better luck tonight.
“Thanks, Dad.” I avoided his question, but I suspected he deduced where I was going.
“I wanted to have a chance to talk.” He took a seat at my desk chair. “I seem to be saying all the wrong things lately, like this morning. But leaving like you did, that’s not like you—at least not the Lex I know. You must’ve been pretty angry with me.”
“I guess I was.” Maybe I still am.
“You were right. I did leave you and your mother. I know it sounds like I blame her. Sometimes I do, but the truth is I had my own demons.”
I raised my eyebrows, suddenly intrigued. Demons—my mother’s word.
“I’m guessing your mother never told you.”
I shook my head. “She hinted at something but … no. What were your demons?”
My father hung his head. “Ambition. Pride. When I was your age, my parents were very demanding. They had sky-high expectations of me. I guess I was sort of a disappointment. But your mother—she was amazing, so smart, so driven.” My father pointed to the awards on my desk. “You’re like her in that way, kiddo. It’s embarrassing to say, but I felt jealous of her success.”
I nodded with understanding. My mother was larger than life. Still, I never imagined how my father must have felt, wilting like a weed in her shadow.
“Just before I left, things got really bad. My career was floundering. Your mother was distant, immersed in her research. I was reaching for straws, trying to grab hold, and I did something foolish. I wrote an article—an exposé—about Zenigenic. I went behind your mother’s back. I used information she told me in confidence. When I decided to write that article, I destroyed our family.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, astonished by my father’s revelation. “How come I’ve never heard about it?”
“It was never published. I lied about the source of my information, somehow thinking I was protecting your mother. She didn’t see it that way, of course. For so long, I felt ashamed. I didn’t think you’d want me as a father. I know I let you down.”
I wanted to reassure him, but I couldn’t find the right words, so I made him laugh instead. “I always assumed Mom drove you away. She could be so infuriating sometimes.” We both chuckled.
“It’s never just one person’s fault, Lex, when things fall apart.” My father walked over to where I stood in front of the mirror. “Look,” he gestured at my image. “That is my little girl, my pride and joy.”
“Dad, please.” I watched my cheeks flush pink.
“You know, your mother was my first love. I was so young, but I fell head over heels, and I wouldn’t change it, even now, because I have you. But I didn’t know myself, Lex. I was still becoming who I was going to be. I want you to have that chance too.”
My father stood behind me, one hand on each of my shoulders. The eyes I always thought were my mother’s suddenly looked a lot like his. “You owe it to her.” He pointed his finger at my reflection.
CHAPTER FORTY - TWO
LAST KISS
AFTER MY FATHER’S SPEECH, I was surprised he didn’t protest when I asked to go to San Francisco to see Quin. When he insisted I let the Van Sant security team drive me, I couldn’t really argue. I’d won a major victory.
As I rang the bell at Edison’s house, the ding strummed my tightly wound nerves, my thoughts an endless stream of contradictions. I hope Quin answers the door. What if Quin answers the door? Please let someone else answer the door.
The same uniformed woman who greeted us on our first visit silenced my quandary with a welcoming smile. “Hi,” I croaked. “I’m here to—”
“Lex?” My stomach flip-flopped at the sound of Quin’s voice. Glimpsing myself in the window, I suddenly felt awkward, childish. Why did I wear this? I chastised myself—I was trying too hard.
Before I could speak, I heard the guttural roar of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway behind me. I turned just in time to see the graceful driver dismount, swinging her skinny-jeaned leg over the seat. I stared, already knowing. Emma had arrived.
“Lex?” I turned back to the door, just realizing I never answered him. “What are you—” Quin looked at me quizzically, “doing here? You look amazing.” I’m so glad I wore this.
“Hey, Q.” Emma’s voice was smooth and strong, borderline flirtatious.
“Q?” I scowled at Quin. No one but Max called him that. He shrugged back at me with a contrite smile.
“Is this who I think it is?” Emma seemed to be talking about me. “The infamous Lex Knightley?”
I was afraid to look at her. I stared at my feet, sneaking a glance at hers—short black boots tucked into tight gray jeans. Finally, I had no choice. She was standing right alongside me, both of us facing Quin. Up close, Emma was striking—small but intimidating. Her single braid, now dyed black, was like a raven’s feather in her bright blonde hair.
“Hi.” I tried to muster a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
“You look so familiar,” Emma said, her green eyes, cat-like, studying me intensely.
“I don’t think we’ve met.”
“You must just have one of those faces.” She took a step toward Quin, rubbing his shoulder. “I wish I could blend in like that.” Her tone was sickeningly sweet, sugar laced with arsenic.
“Yeah, it’s a real blessing,” I bit back. “I should go,” I said to Quin, as I watched Emma make her way inside like she owned the place.
“I didn’t know she was coming,” Quin said sheepishly. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Awkward,” Edison teased, surmising the situation as he sauntered down the staircase. His eyes traveled from Quin to Emma to me.
I smirked at him. “Not at all.”
“In all fairness, I did warn you that he was a ladies’ man.” Edison winked at me.
I watched Emma circle the living room, casting off her black leather jacket, tossing it onto a chair. She never took her eyes off Quin.
“What is your tattoo?” I asked, eager to distract her.
“Which one?” She beamed at Quin, displaying her dimples. “I have a few.”
“The feather on your shoulder.”
Her cheeks deflated. “It’s in honor of my mom and sister. This is the date they died.” She traced her arm with her finger. “When I was a little girl, my mom used to tell me this old Indian legend. When you find a feather, it means someone who’s gone is sending you a message.”
I nodded, feeling a surge of empathy. It was short-lived. “Do you have any tattoos, Lex?”
“No.” I suddenly wished I did. Both Quin and Edison watched us from the foyer. Edison’s amusement was apparent. Typical Quin, his expression was unreadable.
“I figured. There are two kinds of people in this world—those who have tattoos and those who don’t.”
“Well, that’s genius,” Edison said, silencing Emma with his scorn. He met my eyes and giggled. Sometimes having a sarcastic jerk on your side was a distinct advantage.
“Quin, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” I asked.
“Oh,” Emma’s bright red lips formed a small circle. “Am I interrupting something? Should I go?”
Yes, definitely. We both looked to Quin, awaiting a reply that seemed more like a choice.
“It’s okay,” he answered. “But I need to talk to Lex for a few minutes.”
I followed Quin up the stairs in silence. “Let’s go to Edison’s room,” he suggested. A persistent flutter in my stomach began at the thought of finally being alone with Quin. As soon as he shut the door behind us, I grabbed his T-shirt and pulled him to me, kissing him with urgency.
He kissed me back, but it was different, like a struggle, a civil war. His hands were pushing against me, pushing me away, but his lips were insistent. Finally, a victor was declared, as he moved an arm’s length away from me and sighed. “God, I love kissing you.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I stepped toward him and kissed him again, softly. He let me, but it felt totally wrong, like kissing someone else. The butterflies in my stomach died, all at once. That was it—our last kiss.
“Lex, I’m glad you came. We need to talk.”
“Okay.” I could already feel tears welling in my eyes.
“I think we should … take a … break.” He mumbled the words.
“A break? What does that even mean, Quin?”
He took a deep breath. “I just feel overwhelmed. This thing with my dad—it’s really bad. I’m sure Edison told you. They have a lot of evidence against him, and with all the media attention, the D.A. just filed a motion to expedite the trial. It’ll probably be granted.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I need to focus. And I’m not sure you’re the best thing for me right now. We just keep fighting. Besides, maybe I’m not the best for you either … genetically speaking.” His sarcasm felt harsh, like a scolding.
I wanted to argue with him, but it was an unwinnable battle. It would only prove his point. “Do you still love me?”
“Of course.” He put a gentle hand on my hip, then let it fall away, back to his side.
“How do you take a break from that?” He didn’t answer my question. Instead, “I hope we can still be—”
“Don’t say it.”
“Friends.” He said it.
“So this isn’t just a break?” I asked. I couldn’t breathe. Quin’s words ripped me at the seams. “It’s a breakup.”
He avoided my eyes. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Maybe.”
“Is this because of her?”
“Who? Emma?”
I glared at him. “Uh, yes, Emma. The blonde. Downstairs. The one who’s lining up to take my place.”
Quin shook his head. “This is not about Emma. It’s about you and me.”
In that moment, as strange as it sounds, I thought of the first boy I kissed—the only boy before Quin. His name was Zach. Exactly one day after our kiss, he broke up with me, if you can even call it that. “I think you like me too much,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that made complete sense. I remember standing outside his house, trying not to cry. Just one kiss, only one—still, it felt like the collapse of the world as I knew it.
Now, looking at Quin—after at least five hundred days’ worth of kisses—it was like watching the end of everything.
I bit my lip, willing my tears away. “Fine,” I said coldly. “But when you change your mind, don’t come knocking on my window.” I was the first to walk away—I had to be—out the door, down the stairs. The instant the cold air hit my face, I ran. I wanted Quin to come after me, to chase me, but I knew he wouldn’t. The hardness in his eyes, just like Zach’s, told me that he’d already decided. It was over.
CHAPTER FORTY - TWO
SOUL MATES
SOMEONE CHASED ME AFTER ALL.
“Hey, Lex, wait up!” Edison called. I heard his rapid footsteps behind me.
I waited until the last possible moment before I turned around, steeling myself. I will not cry.
“What happened in there?” he asked, touching my shoulder.
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“Come sit with me.” He gestured to a bench near the sidewalk. Head hung, I walked with him. “Quin’s not himself right now. You know, his usual cocky, bone-headed self.” I smiled a little at Edison, trying to convince him that I was okay. “He’s already lost his mom. Now, he’s got his dad back, and he’s about to lose him again.” He sighed. “I hate to admit it, but I totally get where Quin is coming from with that one. And the Prophecy thing—he pretends like it doesn’t bother him, but you and I know different.”
“What about Emma?” I asked.
“What about her?”
“She’s…” I wasn’t sure how to sum her up, but I knew one thing. “She’s Quin’s type.”
Edison guffawed in disbelief. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Alexandra Knightley, you are Quin’s type. Trust me on this one. Sure, Emma’s hot—she’s got the whole mysterious, tattooed, biker-chick thing going for her.”
“Exactly,” I interjected. “Thanks for making my point.”
Rolling his eyes, Edison continued, “I wasn’t done yet. I know her. The Guardians recruited us around the same time. I don’t know how she lasted till the end. She was even more pathetic than me.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, she was too busy batting her eyelashes to show up on time for anything.”
“That’s comforting.”
“My point is she’s not smart. She’s not nice. And most importantly, she’s not you. If Quin can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “Although, they both have tattoos, which apparently makes them soul mates.”
In spite of my heart, which was cracked deep down the middle, I laughed.
CHAPTER FORTY - THREE
NOW WHAT?
MY DAD WAITED UP FOR ME. I was actually kind of glad. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, reading my eyes.
The word no was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. Maybe it would never be as easy with my dad as it was with my mom, but I wanted to try. “Yes, as long as you promise not to say I told you so.”
“I promise.”
“Is Max here?” I felt guilty I hadn’t checked in on him sooner.
“Sleeping,” my dad replied, pointing toward the guest room.
I headed down the hallway toward my room. “There’s one thing I want to do first,” I called back to him. I shed my silk top and gave it the burial it deserved—balling it up and throwing it in my trash can. Some clothes are just plain unlucky. I slipped on my Columbia T-shirt.
“Much better,” I said to Artos, rubbing his head. He parted his mouth, revealing his tongue in a canine grin. Without warning, I started to cry. I hadn’t thought of it before, but Quin would probably take Artos.
“D-ad.” I choked on the word in between sobs.
“Are you okay, Lex?” I knew my father was already in mid-stride, heading straight for my room.
“I’m okay,” I mustered. “But can we talk about it tomorrow … ?”
His voice came softly from right outside my door. “Of course, whenever you want. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I grabbed my journal, pulled back the covers, and crawled into bed still wearing my jeans.
October 17, 2042
I stared at the page, unable to write the words. Maybe my dad was right. Without Quin, who was I really? I could hardly remember that girl. She seemed a forgotten acquaintance, someone I used to know, a paler, less-exciting version of myself. When I met Quin, it was like my life finally figured out how to get good. And now what?
Quin broke up with me.
It was the best I could do for tonight.
CHAPTER FORTY - FOUR
EXPOSÉ
THE NEXT MORNING I found my father in the garage, wearing his glasses, rifling through a box marked—no surprise—Dishes.
“Morning, sweetie. Are you feeling okay?” He barely looked up, his head buried in a file folder.<
br />
“I’ll live.”
Answering me with an affectionate grin, my dad patted the stool next to him. “There’s something I want to show you, if I can ever find it.” He pushed the box toward me. “Start looking,” he instructed.
“Uh, Dad, what exactly am I looking for?”
“My article,” he answered. “I deleted it from my computer—couldn’t bear to look at it—but I know your mother kept a hard copy.”
What is all this stuff?” I asked, flipping through a folder of handwritten notes.
“All my research for the Zenigenic piece. Hard to believe it’s been nine years.” My father paused to look at me. “I guess I’m getting old,” he joked.
I smiled a little. “I can’t believe you wrote that article without telling Mom. She must’ve been furious.”
“Not one of my finer moments,” my dad admitted. “I know it was a long time ago, but I was thinking maybe there’s something there that can shed light on that secret facility you found.” Though my dad didn’t say it, I suspected part of his plan was to distract me from Quin, and I was grateful.
We were halfway through the box when we found it.
“Dad … I think … this might be…” I was staring at a typewritten page with the title Corruption And Lies: The Truth About Zenigenic.
“That’s it!” My father was giddy. “I can’t believe it! Great title, huh?”
“Guess you weren’t going for subtlety.” I scanned the first few paragraphs, then said, “You certainly didn’t pull any punches … listen to this.”
“How do you want to feel today? has become a slogan for the masses, most of whom are completely unaware of the potentially lethal side effects of emotion-altering medications (EAMs),” I read aloud. “Zenigenic Corporation amassed its fortune manipulating research outcomes and capitalizing on the ignorance of the consumer.”
“Keep reading,” he encouraged. “A few paragraphs down. All the intel comes straight from your mom.”
“According to an anonymous source directly involved in the development of Emovere, Zenigenic’s highest-grossing EAM to date, a significant percentage of subjects experienced withdrawal or rebound symptoms after using the substance just one time. These findings have been hidden from the public and, in fact, are counter to Zenigenic’s media message, which describes Emovere as a harmless anxiety inhibitor.”