Now That You're Here (Duplexity, Part I) (4 page)

Over at her dad's place, she reaches for the door, but I stop her. “You believe me, right?”

“I don't know what to think,” she says. “But I do know you shouldn't have to stay where people give you black eyes.”

She knocks twice and opens the door. I follow her inside. The place is spotless. Like a picture from a magazine. Leather couch and chairs. Glass coffee table. Bookshelves lined with hardcovers. Her dad sits in the far corner under a reading lamp. Thinning hair. Glasses. He stands when he sees me. He wears slippers with business casual.

“Dad?” Eevee says. “This is Danny.”

I extend my hand. “It's nice to meet you, Mr. Solomon.”

He gives me a once-over, then shakes my hand. His grip is strong, like a warning. “Call me Sid.”

“Did Mom call?”

He nods. “Danny, will you excuse us for a moment?”

Eevee follows him to the kitchen. I can hear their voices but can't make out what they're saying. The books on the shelves are all statistics, statistics and more statistics. There's one about the brain. And another book on statistics. Finally, they walk back into the room.

“Have a seat, Danny.” He motions to the couch and sits again in the chair in the corner. Eevee sits across from me.

“Are you a friend from school?” he asks.

I clear my throat. “I met her at the—”

“English,” she says. “Danny's in my English class.”

“Then you're a sophomore as well?”

My brain is running on empty. Eevee gives a small nod and I stammer, “Y-yeah. Yes, sir. Sophomore.”

He takes a hard look at me. “I'm sorry to hear you're having trouble at home.” He continues to scrutinize. Deciding if I'm trouble or not.

I sweep the hair out of my eyes. Try not to look like a freak. “Thanks. It's…uh…”

“No need to divulge.” He holds up a hand. “You're welcome to stay here. If you can follow the rule. Eve, will you please tell him the rule?”

She angles her body so he can't see her roll her eyes. Keeps her voice straight, though, and says, “My actions will not have a negative impact on myself or others in this home.”

“Thank you.” Sid leans back, crosses his arms. “Does that sound reasonable, Danny?”

Is this guy for real? “Yes, sir.”

“Then we're agreed. You may stay in Eve's room.”

“Oh,” she says. “I thought he'd stay on…” She looks at the couch.

“Most people don't have the luxury of two bedrooms to call their own.”

She nods.

“Will you show our guest the way?”

She stands, so I stand, too, and follow her past the kitchen to the hallway. She pushes open the first door on the right. “Bathroom.” And the next door on the left. “My room.” She holds it open for me. “I mean,
your
room.”

I stop before going in and look at her. Same dark hair. Same eyes. Same girl, but so different. A gazillion thoughts tumble through my brain, everything I should say to her, but all I get out is “Thanks.”

Her head tilts to the right and she smiles. “We can talk more tomorrow.” Her voice sounds tired or sad. Can't tell which.

“Sounds good.” I walk into her room.

She starts to leave, but turns back. “Don't touch anything, okay?” I nod. And with that, she's gone.

Don't touch anything? There isn't much in here to touch. The place hardly looks lived in. The bed takes up most of the space. Gray comforter and pillows. Black dresser in the corner. Matching nightstand and silver lamp. A poster of Einstein, which seems unusual for a teenage girl, but whatever. The closet is pretty much empty inside. A couple of shirts on hangers. Jeans folded on a shelf. There's nothing really
her
about the room.

I peel off the jacket and toss it on the bed. Kick off the shoes and my feet feel ten pounds lighter. I stretch. Sit on the edge of the mattress and rub my banged-up knee.

What now? If I were home, I'd play some Carnage or hang out with Germ.

Germ. Where was he when all that happened? Did he get hurt, or worse, caught? Is he lost somewhere in this crazy place like me?

I jump to my feet, keyed up all of a sudden, and pace around the room. Feels like the walls are closing in. What if Germ needs help and I'm stuck here? Wherever here is. I can't just sit around. I need answers.

The nightstand beside the bed has a single drawer. I pull it open. Inside, there's a journal and a pencil.

Einstein's eyes are on my back.
Don't touch anything.

The cover has that drawing of a naked guy in a circle with his arms stretched out. What do they call him? Venturian Man? The art makes me think of Eevee. Her red dress and killer heels. Hair up off her shoulders. The way she smiled. The way her body felt against mine.

It's like she doesn't remember.

Just as my fingers touch the journal, there's a knock at the door. The pencil rattles as I slam the drawer shut and I'm off the bed, standing at attention.

“Danny?” Mr. Solomon—Si
d—calls through the door. “Would you like something to eat?”

I shake out my hands. Clear my throat. “Yeah. That'd be great.”

Sid and I sit at the kitchen table, eating pita chips with hummus and working on a crossword.

“Five-letter word for ‘meticulous.' ”

I shove a loaded chip in my mouth and make a thinking face. “Meticulou
s…meticulous…” Maybe three brain cells are working on the clues. The rest are working out how I got here. Either way, I'm coming up with zilch.

“Fussy.” Sid pencils in the boxes. “F-U-S-S-Y.” Takes a swig of his kale juice. He's an oddball. Nice. But weird.

“So you have Ms. Fischbach, too?” he asks.

“What?”

“For English. Eve is always complaining about that class.”

I fake it. “Yeah. It's pretty awful.”

“Well, I'm glad to know she has a friend in there.” He doesn't sound glad. “Are you good at English?” He looks at me over his glasses.

“Pretty good.” I don't have to lie this time.