Rewrite Redemption (8 page)

“A.J.” She grabbed my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. “Chillax. Shrink Four, ‘Instead of freaking out, assess the situation and make a plan.”’

“Right,” I said. “I know that. I just—”

“Hey…scary to be you, sometimes.”

“Yeah, right?”

She leaned against the tree, and I sat back and put my head on her shoulder. I could tell the wheels were spinning, because she pulled out her phone and started playing Angry Birds. She said that helped her think. I waited, knowing she’d take charge. It made me feel safe when she did that. I didn’t wait long.

“You go chill in the tree house,” she directed, exploding another space pig. “Will you be okay by yourself until school is over?”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“Because, if not, I can always call Arthur and use the ‘cramps excuse’ to get out of my afternoon classes.” Arthur was the Chihuahua’s assistant. He handled all things Lex, from parent/teacher conferences to paying our grocery bills and Lex’s very generous allowance, which she split with Ipod and me. Lex had him wrapped around her little finger.

“No,” I shook my head. “Don’t skip over this. Save it for when we really need it. I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” she said, tossing her phone in her bag. “I want to get another look at him. As soon as Ipod and I get home, we’ll figure it out. How is it now?”

“Smoother. I’m okay, just a little dazed and confused. It was the surprise that threw me. What did the guy look like? Did he seem—I don’t know—scary?”

“No, not that I remember. I was busy watching you run out of the room.”

“Great. I bet everyone else was too. Lucky me.”

“You kind of blew rule six out of the water,” she said, laughing.

“I blew about four rules out of the water. How can I ever go back to that class?”  

 Just then Sam drove up. He started to get out of the car, but Lex yelled at him that we’d be right there.

“Be careful,” I said.

“We’ll deal with this,” she said. She tossed my bag in the backseat, while I got into the front with Sam.

He looked at me intently. “You okay, Honey?”

“Hi, Sam,” Lex said, before I could answer. “It’s just a girl thing. She’s okay.”

“Thanks, Lexie,” he said, visibly relieved. “Come on, Autumn, let’s go home.”

“Be careful!” I mouthed to Lex as we drove away.

“I got your back,” she mouthed back at me.

I knew she did. I could tell that she’d realized
something
was going on. She hustled back into school, looking right and left as though checking for—I don’t know—vampires or Voldemort or something. She was fearless but not stupid. She always believed me. Not that I was necessarily right about things, but that I was telling the truth, no matter how freak-show it got. I really loved her for that. No matter how screwed up my life was, at least I had her on my side.

As for the rest of it? I didn’t know
what
to think.

I became a one man/one goal detective agency, immediately snagging her name from a girl on the way out of class. If I couldn’t meet her then, I could at least track down some info. She’d definitely left the campus. I couldn’t pick up even a hint of her energy. I wasn’t too worried. I figured she’d be back the next day.

I crossed the street to Jalino’s. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with the lunchroom scene. I had to figure out where I fit here at Boulder High before I’d tackle that. Besides, I couldn’t argue with pizza. The minute I walked in the door, I knew the pizza would be kick-ass. It smelled really good. The place was a little crowded, but no big. I was okay just standing there, smelling it.

I paid for my slices and headed for the creek behind the school. It was cool how the creek ran right through the upscale town. The sound of the flowing creek was soothing, and even though there were other kids around, everything was mellow. I had to admit that it was a sweet lunch spot. I scored a tree, flopped down, and pulled out my tablet.

I cued up last year’s online yearbook and searched for her name. No surprise—photo unavailable. There was nothing else. I found the blonde quickly in the junior A’s. Her name was Alexandra Archer. She was seriously hot, and from what I could gather, popular. She was in the drama and debate clubs and had several miscellaneous shots. She was laughing in every one of them.

I couldn’t find an online profile for the Jones kid which was telling in itself. No web presence at all, which sucked, but didn’t surprise me. It was the same for freshman year. Obviously, she stayed off the grid—smart. I kept my own online stuff really generic. Mostly, it was just band shots and stuff like track and snowboarding.

So far, no good but no big. I had some serious hacking ability at home. The Guild relied on the younger Editors to deal with all the high-tech equipment, which gave me access to programs that weren’t on the market. I figured I’d find out more when I could tap into that.

I kept my radar up all afternoon, but I picked up nothing, not even a blip. I didn’t see the blonde again either. After scanning the usual spots and finding nothing, I headed home. As far as moving forward with the plan, the day was a bust. But for the first time since the accident, I had hope.

At that point, it occurred to me that there was probably some rule about reporting a Shadow to the Guild. I immediately pressed delete on that option. I wasn’t about to let the Guild loose on some innocent Shadow kid. No, this little lottery ticket was going to stay my secret, at least until I got her to help me. Besides, I’d been known to break a few rules now and then. I was already on the black list.

And the Shadow was my one chance to get off it.

Sam steered the Subaru, looking at me anxiously and smiling his sweet Sam smile. I patted his arm and leaned back on the seat with my eyes closed. At home he shuffled me inside, lugging my book bag. I hit the john and then I headed to the tree house.

Once inside, I leaned against the trunk and soaked up calm, leaving my mind blank. After a few minutes, I replayed the morning to see if I’d missed anything that was only obvious in hindsight. I’d picked up a little something as we’d approached the school that morning. “It’s happening again,” I had told them.

“You sure?” Ipod had asked. “Well, at least we know it’s related to something or someone at school. This is the second time in the same location. Not necessarily conclusive, so pay attention. Make notes. We’ll figure it out.”

After a brief locker stop we took off for class. By third period, I was getting used to it. I had no explanation but it didn’t feel threatening. I mean, it was wonderful not to have to deal with the usual sensory overload. I felt really good. So I concentrated on class stuff and shoved it to the back of my mind. As for Ipod’s request, there was nothing to note.

So I almost forgot until that massive wave tsunamied me in Spanish.

I didn’t like unpredictability when it came to my strangeness. My jumping back had been fairly stable for the last couple years, and I wanted it to stay that way. It was hard enough in grade school when I only jumped back every few months. But when I hit puberty, things went wild for the better part of a year. The first month I jumped back twice a week. It was terrifying because I had absolutely no control.

At first I didn’t stay long—maybe fifteen minutes—but the stress of it wore me out. Then about once a month I’d have an extended trip. Once I was gone for almost two days. That time I thought it was permanent, but eventually, I got sucked back home.

So, there at the tree house, after what happened at school, I was going a little crazy trying to make sense of these new developments. I certainly didn’t want a replay of that horrid year when everything was so out of control. I didn’t mind the soothing energy or the lack of the static. It had been great to feel okay at school, and I hoped that part was permanent. But soothing energy was one thing. The sensation that hit me in Spanish was something else entirely. Not that it felt bad, but….

I tried to relive the feeling since Ipod would expect details. What would have happened if I hadn’t bolted the minute it touched me? I shut my eyes and savored what had scared me earlier, the feeling that had thrown me completely off course.

But
that
was a mistake.

The tingle started at my back and torso and moved to my arms and legs. It began slowly and then escalated fast, flowing off my fingertips.

No!

I took a deep breath and tried to stop it. It didn’t help. I heard Ipod and Lex talking as they came into the yard, tinny voices in the distance like a bad cell connection.

“You up there, A.J.?” Lex called.

As soon as she spoke, I felt the tingling ramp up like the volume on the TV. I had just enough time to grab my survival pack and get into position so that I didn’t hit my head when I passed out. With Ipod at her heels, Lex lunged into the room. They couldn’t see me. But I still had a bit of consciousness left.

As I faded away, I heard Ipod say, “Well, this can’t be good.”

And then nothing.

Devon and my mom were gone. A note said he had a doctor’s appointment. I was alone in the house—most excellent. I cued up some music, taking full advantage of the fortuitous, empty-house moment. I kicked off my shoes and turned it up loud, losing myself in the beat. There were possibilities now, and that changed everything. In the never-ending battle between glass half-full and glass half-empty, half-full had the upper hand. I wanted to hold on to it as long as I could.

When I came to a good riff, I couldn’t help but do a few steps in socks on the hardwood floor. I was in a surprisingly good mood, given I hadn’t really gotten much info yet and lived in depression central. Maybe the combination of the empty house and the hint of possibilities were doing something much needed to my brain. Or maybe my mom was spiking the milk with happy drugs. Probably it was the hit of energy I’d received from the Shadow.

I made a sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and took everything to my room. I might have even smiled as I opened my laptop—detective work—something I was good at. Since she didn’t seem to have much of a high school record, I decided to go earlier. After checking Google Maps, I scanned for the nearest middle schools, finding her at the second one. I wormed my way into her records.

Autumn Juniper Jones, only child of Samuel Jones, an environmental scientist. Father teaches online classes for the University of Colorado. Mother, Simone Jones, deceased.

Whoa, lost her mom. So the kid had a screwed up life…something I knew about. Her grades were average, varying from quarter to quarter, but her test scores were sky-high. Okay, smart, but doesn’t apply herself. No surprise—been there, done that.