ExtraNormal (16 page)

He ran trembling fingers through his hair. “I…I don’t like sneaking around.”

“But if you had to choose…”

“I’d do anything to be with you.”

 “Then you just have to trust me,” I whispered. “And let it be…”

He stared straight ahead. Tapping the steering wheel. I squirmed. Eventually he opened the door, walked around the car, and opened my door. He held out his hand. When I stood in front of him he pulled me close. “This conversation isn’t over,” he whispered. “But for now you need to get to bed. Maybe you’ll make more sense in the morning.”

I approached the house slowly and mechanically. Mom apparently hadn’t been able to sense my emotions ever since Everett’s party, when my em-field started fluctuating. But I was no longer fluctuating, so I had no idea what would happen next. Now that I was more determined than ever to stay, my entire emotional day would probably be laid bare before her. I could just go to bed without waking her—assuming she’d actually fallen asleep—but that would only make her suspicious. I paused on the front porch and wished I could block every emotion I was feeling except my excitement for the beach. I pulled up the memory of riding a wave. The thrill…

I gasped. I couldn’t be sure, but it almost felt like I had launched the emotion forward—the way I would a stream tunnel. I released the door knob and sat on the edge of the concrete steps. I opened another memory—eating the hot dog—and pushed it to the forefront of my mind. The pleasure of those spicy juices in my mouth settled nicely into my mind, pushing my anxiety to the rear.

It was an unproven theory, but it seemed as though this new em-field pattern of mine allowed me to manipulate my emotions to only show the ones I selected. If that were the case, it would explain so much about adults. Like how they always seem to show the emotion that best suits their needs.

That insight should have made me mad—to think that the entire adult population might be keeping a secret that huge from children. But I was too excited to care.

I practiced for several more minutes before stepping into the house. All was dark except the light of the television. Mom paused it with the remote. “How was it?”

I pulled up a memory of just me and Becca in the water and threw the emotion forward. Holding it there, I stepped into the room and sat on the edge of the couch across from Mom. “It was so fun.”

“Oh, I can tell. You must be feeling better.”

“Yes.” I sighed with relief. “Much better.”

Mom turned off the television. “So what was the best part?”

I sat back on the couch, concentrating on that single memory, keeping it forward. “The waves. You have to let me take you sometime. You can actually ride them to shore.”

“Come tell me.” Mom patted the couch seat.

I told her every exciting thing I could think of about the day. She told me about her work. We talked longer than we had, probably in years. And she seemed clueless that anything was out of order in my life. I went to bed feeling better than I had in days. And slept more soundly.

School was a different place when I returned the next day. Not that the school itself had made any changes. But I had, in many ways. Pleasant smells and tastes were intensified. Unpleasant ones were more tolerable. I moved more swiftly and surely. Thought more clearly. Even the correct words came easily.

But each new discovery was bittersweet. It reminded me that my life had been permanently altered. And probably not for the better. And that I didn’t know what damage I may have done to Jesse’s life.

I ate school lunch for the first time in a week. Real food. With real friends. Camille and Serena seemed excited to have me back, though Lacey was still so caught up in Everett Excitement that she hardly seemed to notice that I had been gone. The cafeteria buzzed with plans for homecoming. I rushed through my meal, saying as little as possible, so I could find a tree to sit under and stream with Geery before class started. I fingered the bracelet on my wrist as I opened the stream. It had been days since I’d even noticed it.

Geery streamed.

I replied, sitting on the bench of an empty picnic table.

I stretched my legs on the bench and put my face up to the sun.

Bringing my face down, I scanned the school campus, which looked so new and different, even more than on my first day.

Everett came out of the cafeteria and stood watching me. I stared right back, squinting my eyes at him.

Geery groaned.

I smiled to myself, but didn’t bother to think of a response.

I turned my back on Everett.

How I wished. But with his fair skin, black hair, blue eyes—there wasn’t a chance.

I didn’t respond.

Geery sighed.

In sixth period, Jesse paused near my desk. The emotion was too profound for words. I glanced at Dr. Alison, who was chatting with Everett. Dr. Alison stood and started in our direction. I put my head down and closed my eyes. I might be able to deflect my emotions, but Jesse couldn’t. All Dr. Alison had to do was step near us to sense our connection.

Jesse continued on his way before Dr. Alison reached us, his disappointment trailing behind him. I let out a sigh of both relief that Dr. Alison hadn’t gotten close and sadness for Jesse and the confusing situation he was in. I tried to stay focused on recording Dr. Alison’s lecture. I hadn’t been able to manage it last week and figured my chances of staying on the planet were directly related to how pleased Mom was with my investigative skills.

Midway through Dr. Alison’s lecture, Mom broke through with an urgent message.

I kept my gaze on Dr. Alison, who could easily spot a student streaming.

My mind raced with possibilities through the remainder of class. I started my work shift as usual. But when Jesse saw how anxious I was he insisted on helping me get my work done then driving me to my corner. We rode in silence.

“I know I invited you to my backyard,” I said when he pulled his car to the curb. “But maybe tomorrow.”

He just nodded, resigned to his fate of remaining confused about our relationship.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I continued.

He gently placed his hand at the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. “Promise?”

I could feel both love and hurt emanating from his fingertips. “I promise,” I whispered, suddenly gripped with fear over Mom’s surprise and what it might mean to that promise. I pushed open the door and ran from the car, not slowing until I approached Becca’s house. I stood under the tree in the neighbor’s yard and caught my breath. It was stupid to worry. Mom didn’t even sound upset. I pushed my anxiety and feelings for Jesse to the back of my mind, pulled my curiosity to the fore, and approached the front door.

And while I wasn’t sure what to expect, it definitely wasn’t the tall, handsome man who greeted me.

“Mirishka!” Dad opened his arms wide.

“You
must
speak the language,” Mom said in a cheerful but disapproving tone from the back of the dark room.

“Mira,” he repeated, smiling broadly.

“Daddy!” I gasped. “I don’t understand.” Without waiting for a response, I stepped inside and fell into his embrace. I rested my head on his chest, heard his heart pumping, and breathed him in.

He stroked my hair affectionately. “The distance was too difficult.” With his arms still around me, he pulled me along in three eager strides to the couch—where Mom sat—Dad and I dropped onto the couch, drawing Mom into our circle—our arms and legs wrapped around and through one another. It was like diving into a pool of deep affection. Part of that feeling was familiar, like an old blanket I’d grown up with. Yet there was an element to it I hadn’t before recognized for what it was.

 “It’s been harder than we expected,” Mom touched her forehead to Dad’s. “Being apart.”

I nodded, blinking back tears at the sight—and feel—of my parents together again. I understood what they were going through better than I could let on. We sat for a long while, enjoying the feeling of being together.

“So how did you get here?” I finally asked.

“I took a sabbatical. Only temporary.”

 “I never planned to be away from home as much as I have,” Mom said, still looking at her husband. “So it made sense to bring him here. To keep you company.”

“I see,” I said. Just starting to really see.

“If anyone asks why I’m suddenly residing here,” Dad said, “just tell them your parents are working on their marriage.” He winked at Mom.

“Human relationships are so complicated,” Mom added. “They’ll probably let it go at that.”

“And…how long will you be here?” I asked, doing my best to think only about my excitement for our reunion.

“Just two weeks.”

I stirred within our tangle of arms and legs. My time with Jesse was counted in hours, not days. With Dad as my new companion it would be counted in minutes.

“So,” Dad said, pulling his arm away from my shoulder. “I can’t tolerate the anticipation another moment. Your mother has promised me an outing in her
Saab
.” He said the word as if it were magical. Then stood and pulled both of us to our feet. His enthusiasm made it possible for me to push away my worries. I followed them to the garage, climbed into the backseat of the fancy sports car, and settled into the lush interior. Dad spent several minutes studying the car—the engine, the tires, the windshield wipers—before getting into the passenger seat. He then inspected the steering wheel, seatbelts, radio. He was still kneeling on the seat when Mom pulled out of the driveway.

“Look at that lamp post!” he exclaimed. “Oh! And that Betula alba…exquisite.”

“Please just call it a tree.” Mom glanced his way.

He didn’t appear to notice. “Look! A mail receptacle. Can you believe they actually inscribe correspondence and physically transport it? It is so…
quaint
.”

“Sweetie, you really need to sit down and put on your seatbelt. You’re going to attract attention.”

Despite the jubilance that I couldn’t help sharing, I was relieved when we got home. So Dad could show his enthusiasm in the privacy of our house. Mom was never more than a foot away while he examined the appliances—even taking apart and reassembling a clock radio. His zeal was literally contagious. But as the evening wore on I began to worry about reaching Jesse. If I didn’t stop him he would come by in the morning to pick me up.

I slipped into my room while my parents prepared dinner, opened my top dresser drawer, and pulled the corner of the paper towel with Jesse’s number written on it. It seemed like so long ago that he’d left it for me. Could it really have just been a week? I punched the numbers into my cell phone. After several rings a woman answered. “Hello?”

The pleasant voice startled me. I pushed the red off button. Why would an adult female answer Jesse’s phone? Shaken, I sat on the edge of my bed and considered the situation. Dad must have boarded the transport shortly after my dinner with Mom. The one where I’d thought I’d been so clever. I grabbed the pillow on my bed and held it to my chest. Sure Dad would have jumped at the chance to come to Earth. But what if he really came because they’d figured everything out? I gasped and squeezed the pillow. Maybe he came to take me home.

I tried the number a second time with the same result.

After a sleepless night, I arose before daylight, got my emotions enough under control to say goodbye to Dad, then walked to the corner of Palm Avenue and Kinbrae. Jesse looked surprised when he saw me standing by the street light waving him down.

“The phone number you gave me isn’t right,” I said as I climbed into the car.

“Huh?”

“Some woman answered.”

He looked over his shoulder to check merging traffic and grinned. “That would be my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. It’s my home number.”

“Why don’t you have a cell phone?”

He shrugged. “Used to have one. But I haven’t really needed it…for a while.”

“You haven’t needed one?”

“No. But I can get one.” He touched my cheek. “What’s wrong? Why did you come to the corner?”

“That would be good,” I said. “If you had a phone.”

He put both hands on the wheel, his brows knitted together. “Okay, I’ll get it figured out. But what’s wrong?”

“Why haven’t you needed one?” I asked.

His gaze darted from the road to my face. “A phone? Are we still on that?”

“Yes. You need a phone in case I have to reach you. And why won’t you tell me where you were last year?”

“What are you talking about? I thought you said that didn’t matter to you.”

“It doesn’t. I just need to know more about you. I want to know everything.”

“Yeah that would be something, wouldn’t it? No secrets?” There was an edge of anger to his voice. Until he turned and looked at me—saw that I was about to burst into tears—and his voice softened. “Mira. What’s wrong?” He touched my cheek again with his finger.