Split Second (Pivot Point) (13 page)

Addie:
Liars suck.

As I walked into the house, I was so angry my eyes were hot. A note on the counter announced that my dad had gone out to pick up some dinner. Every minute he was gone, my anger intensified.

“Hey, baby,” my dad said when he finally came home.

I wanted to scream,
Guess who I saw today?
I started to but stopped myself, my throat tightening. The only way I would ever be able to forgive my father was if he told me the truth without being cornered. I needed to hear from his mouth about my grandfather still being alive. So I’d give him a chance to come clean on his own.

“I brought us some food.” He held up a bag of what smelled like Chinese food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh.” He got down a plate and unloaded the boxes from the bag. “What have you been up to today?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He had the nerve to sound irritated that I wasn’t being completely honest with him.

“How’s that whole ‘getting Grandpa’s grave moved here’ working out?”

“Like I said, it might take a while.”

“Really?”
Like, you’re waiting for him to die?

He stopped midway through scooping some rice onto his plate. My anger was seeping out, despite my intentions. “What’s going on, Addie?”

“Nothing. I’m tired.”

I left him with his Chinese food and went to my bedroom. My phone, which was sitting on the dresser, chimed. The text was from Stephanie.

Hey, Addie, guess who called me just now?? Trevor. He asked me to winter formal. Eeeeeh
.

I stared at that message. My heart clenched. What was wrong with me? That’s exactly what I wanted to happen when I opened my mouth and said,
You should ask Stephanie to winter formal
. So why had I hoped he wouldn’t listen to me? Why did that text hurt so much? I typed:
Are you sure you’re ready to give him another chance? Didn’t you say he had issues?
My finger hovered over the Send button. With a sigh, I erased the text and instead wrote:

That’s great, Steph. Call me tomorrow
.

My room seemed extra cold that night, and I pulled the blankets up to my chin. Still, a shudder went through my body as I thought of that text from Stephanie; as I wished I had let the almost-kiss future play out so that Trevor had that memory too and not just me. He wouldn’t have asked Stephanie to the formal if he had that memory. I rolled onto my side and groaned. I tried to think of something else, anything else, but I could almost feel his breath on my lips. I traced my lips with a finger. What was wrong with me? Why was I so drawn to Trevor?

I sat up suddenly, grabbed my phone off my dresser, and searched through the text messages. It took me a few minutes to realize Laila hadn’t texted me the news about the letter I wrote myself after coming out of my Search. She had told me. What had she said? She said I wanted her to restore my memory. I had thought it was because I had found out some of the secrets my parents were keeping from me. But what if it was something different I wanted to remember? Or someone?

An overwhelming desire to have my memories restored so I could figure out why I wrote that note filled my entire being. How could I do that? My mind scrolled through options and then just as quickly dismissed them. Did I know any other Memory Erasers who were more advanced than Laila? Even if I did, they were hundreds of miles away. The only abilities that were here for immediate use was my own ability—useless.
And my dad’s—even more useless. I threw myself back on my bed and closed my eyes. But then they popped open with a thought—my grandpa. He was a Healer. Could he Heal my mind? Reopen the paths?

My head whipped over to my digital clock. Two a.m. Way too early to go running to his house. This was going to be a long night.

After showering and dressing for the day, I strode with purpose to the living room. It was Saturday morning; my dad would let me use his car. I opened my mouth to ask him as much, when I saw he wasn’t alone. Two men in jeans and polos sat on the couch. I thought they were new neighbors or something until they stood and I saw the scar down the side of one man’s cheek. I froze.

“Addison,” Scar-Face said. “Good to see you again.”

“Why are you here?” I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but I was worried. Last night I’d discovered my grandpa alive, and now the Containment Committee was in my living room. Had I done something wrong?

“Addie, this is Agent Farley and Agent Miller. They are just making a routine visit from the Compound. They’re the agents assigned to the greater Dallas area.”

Routine visit. Did my dad believe that or was he playing along? He would know if they were lying. “Oh. Hi. Good to see you.”

“We wanted to stop by to see if you had any questions. If you were adjusting well.”

“I’m fine.” I hovered in the doorway, not wanting to commit to the room.

“We understand you’ve become friends with a Trevor Davis.”

My heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t about my grandpa. This was about Trevor. Great. He must have talked to the wrong people. Was he telling others about what he had overheard in the locker room? “Yes.”

“It seems Trevor has learned some Compound secrets. Has he come to you with those?”

“No.” I stopped myself in case one of them was a lie detector. “I mean, he said something about our football players deliberately injuring him, but I told him it wasn’t true.” There. Now nobody, not even my dad, could claim I’d lied.

“That’s good. We wanted to make sure you were firm in your cover story and that you were upholding your contract.”

“Yes, I am.”

My dad moved to the door, almost as if he were as anxious to see them leave as I was.

Scar-Face nodded, then handed me a card. “If you have any questions, like your father mentioned, we’re stationed in the area.”

That seemed like a threat. “So there are a lot of Paranormals in Dallas?”

“There are a few in Dallas. But we cover a large area of Texas.”

A few. As in three? My dad, my grandpa, and me? I looked at his card, then put it in my pocket. “Okay, thanks.”

When they left, my father and I had a silent standoff. I wasn’t
letting him out of his lie. He still needed to come clean. I wondered if he would now. But all he said was, “Be careful.”

“Did they come here because I messed up somehow?”

“Not necessarily. But watch yourself. Stay away from this Trevor character. They have a lot of power when it comes to protecting the Compound.”

“Protecting it from me?”

He smiled. “Not from you. But from everyone else.”

By that I knew he meant the Norms. As if Trevor had the power to single-handedly destroy the Compound. I sighed. I guess in a way he did. They all did. If they told people, if our secret could no longer be contained, we could be in danger. But Trevor would never do that. If he knew how important it was to keep it secret, he wouldn’t talk about the Compound. My chest tightened. “They won’t hurt him, will they?”

“Hurt who?”

“Trevor.”

“Of course not. They’ll do their best to keep him safe and us safe. It’s their job.”

I nodded. He was right. They’d dealt with Norms for hundreds of years. They knew what was best. “Can I borrow your car?”

“For what?”

“To drive.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see a friend.”
To get my memory back
. My dad handed me his car keys without further questions.

Laila:
Talked to your mom lately?

“Eli, be my guinea pig.”

My brother looked up from his bowl of cereal. “That’s not really a stellar sales pitch.”

“Come on, I need your help.”

“What exactly would I have to do?”

“Just let me Erase this conversation from your mind and then try to restore it.” I’d tried to do it on my phone in my room for half the night, but it hadn’t worked once since the train with Connor. I had tried to re-create the feelings I’d had when he was there, by thinking about him. I even forced myself to think about kissing him. It didn’t work. Maybe I needed a human subject to try it on. And so here I was, asking Eli.

He took another bite. “Yeah, whatever. Just five minutes.”

“Of course.” I raised my hands and Erased five minutes of his memory.

I started to conjure up images of kissing Connor before Eli even came back to full awareness. The feel of his hands on my waist. My fingers in his hair. A slight buzz of energy pressed against me. But it didn’t feel as present as it had the night before.

“What do you want?” Eli asked.

“I need you to be my guinea pig.” Maybe I could try different emotions. Like the anger I had for my dad or the love I felt for my brother. This time went no different. I kicked the chair and made Eli jump.

“What’s your problem?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m ticked.”

“Obviously.”

“I’ll be back later.” Time for plan B. I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and left.

It was weird standing on Addie’s front porch without the excuse of seeing Addie. I knocked on the door and looked up at the retina scanner so it would announce who I was to her mom inside. A few moments later, the door slid open.

“Laila.” She seemed genuinely happy to see me.

“Hi, Mrs. Coleman.” I paused. She probably wasn’t going by Mrs. Coleman anymore, but I had no idea what her maiden name was. “I was hoping you could help me.”

She stood aside, gesturing for me to come in. “How have you been?” She led me into the living room.

“Good, thanks.” I wanted to straight-out ask Mrs. Coleman how to control my advanced ability better. She knew how. She worked for the Department of Ability Advancement. That’s what they did—helped people advance their abilities. But I was almost certain she would say no. Because she also made sure people under eighteen didn’t push too hard. And if I tried to beg, then she’d know what I was after and she might not fall for my other idea. My stupid idea. But I was desperate.

“What can I do for you?”

I put on my best pleading face. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“I can get you a program to help with that.”

“No. I mean, I think that would just mask the problem, but I don’t think it would solve it.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I want to see Bobby Baker.”

There was a long pause. Not necessarily one borne out of shock or disbelief, but a silence that seemed to be filled with her trying to assess my motives. She was correct to assume I had them. Mr. Coleman’s lie detecting made it hard for me to hide my scheming from them. But now, with him gone, I was pretty sure I could fool Addie’s mom.

“If I see him, see that he’s just an average guy, maybe he wouldn’t haunt my dreams.”

“Bobby’s brain patterns are being studied right now to help create the best recovery track.”

“They aren’t wiping him?” I didn’t mean to say that so loudly, but it surprised me.

“He’s a minor. We’ve had great success with total brain rehabilitation.”

How exactly did they qualify “great success” with a crime rate so low? Most people like Bobby were cured long before they reached that level of madness. So it had worked on one other murderer, years ago? “He’s at the DAA then?” Even better. Here I thought I was going to have to ask her to use her Bureau connections in order to see him, but she could get me into the DAA any day.

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” My disbelief was apparent in my voice. I thought it would take a lot longer to talk her into that. Maybe even some tears.
Okay?

“Did you want to go now?”

Was I not the only one with an agenda here? I wasn’t going to question her willingness. I jumped up and made a beeline for the garage.

“Just a word of warning,” she said as we made our way through the halls of the DAA. “He’s being housed in a room that cuts off access to all abilities. Yours will be unavailable as well.”

We came to yet another security desk, and she palmed the pad and directed me to do the same.

“Visitor for Bobby Baker,” she said.

We went through a door flanked by two cameras, their lights blinking.

“His room is also monitored twenty-four/seven.” She gave me
a sideways glance with that statement, as if saying,
Watch what you say, because you will be heard
.

We stopped in front of a thick door, and she slid a panel aside, revealing a window. And there he was, sitting on a bed. My heart seemed to freeze for a moment. I hadn’t prepared myself for this. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. It was a big deal. He had almost killed me a few short weeks ago, and I guess I hadn’t fully processed that. The completely Healed cut on my neck seemed to itch with his presence.

My breath was shallow, and I tried to suck in some air without letting it show how much he affected me. I threw my shoulders back. Bobby did not have control over me. I was stronger than him.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She pressed a button on the keypad next to the door. “Bobby. You have a visitor.”

He looked up and met my eyes through the glass. I held his gaze, refusing to look away. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, no shoes. Small circular devices were attached to his temples. He swung his feet to the ground but didn’t stand.

Mrs. Coleman entered a code on the keypad, and a glass partition lowered from the ceiling, effectively cutting his room in half. Then the door in front of us slid open. I didn’t move. I had to remind myself why I’d come. I needed to control my advanced ability. Bobby knew how to do that. Or at least he had known. Mrs. Coleman had said they didn’t do a complete wipe on him, but did they do a partial one?

“Do you want me to go in with you?” she asked, reminding
me I hadn’t taken a single step forward.

“No, that’s okay. I got this.”

“This door will remain open. I’ll be right here.” She pointed to a workstation at the end of the hall, fewer than ten feet away.

“Sounds good.” I took my first step forward.

Bobby still sat perched on the side of his bed with a semi-amused expression on his face. “Laila.” His voice was perfectly audible on this side of the partition. Clear, precise, confident. Just like it always had been. He still had his memories fully intact. “Welcome to my home.”

A metal chair sat in the corner on my side, and I hooked it with my foot and dragged it as close to the barrier as possible to prove to him he didn’t scare me. “Hey there, Bobby. How’ve you been?”

“What do you want?”

“I needed to see you here. Helpless.” My head started to hum a little, and I remembered what Mrs. Coleman said about the blockers in this room.

“You’ve seen me. You’re free to go.”

I reached forward and ran a finger down the glass. “It must kill you to know that if only you could use your ability, you’d be out of this room in less than a second.”

One of his eyelids twitched. “I hear Addie might be my neighbor soon.”

That sentence stopped my finger midway down the glass. “What?”

He just smiled his creepy smile, showing me his statement had hit the mark.

Just then I heard voices in the hall. Unable to advance my hearing, I could barely make them out.

“This is getting awfully close to warning her, Marissa.”

“Laila sought me out. I haven’t said a word to her.”

“Good, because this has to happen without interference for the deal to be valid. One word from you and we’ll enact the Threat to the Compound clause and bring her in here.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows at me. “Like I said.”

“What did you say to them?”

“Why do you assume it was me?”

“Because you’re a lying psychopath.” Mrs. Coleman said I was being listened to, so I made sure not to say anything that would indicate I’d heard the conversation in the hall. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

I so didn’t want to say this, but I hoped it would be vague enough for anyone listening and specific enough for Bobby. “Become the master.”

The smile that took over his face reminded me why I hadn’t wanted to say it. But he got the reference. “If only you had been a better student before”—he knocked on the glass—“this. Now it’s too late.” He lay back on his bed, dismissing me.

“Bobby. Be a good citizen.”

He just laughed. His laugh was very unnerving.

Mrs. Coleman poked her head into the room. “Everything okay in here?”

I stood. It was obvious Bobby wasn’t going to help me. “Yes. I’m ready to leave.”

After he was locked up and we were leaving the building, I said, “I thought you were going to fix him. He’s still completely deranged.”

“Right now we are just gathering the data. Then we fashion the program. It’s an enlightening study for us. We can pinpoint brain patterns and hope to be able to prevent this in other children in the future. It may be against his will, but Bobby is being a good citizen.” Her use of the word made me realize she had heard everything we had said. Did she know I had heard her as well?

“Where are we going?” I asked as she turned right instead of left on Main Street. “Isn’t home the other way?”

“I just had a small errand to run on this side of town. Is that okay? It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.”

We came to the large tunnel that ran beneath the river separating old town from new. I hated this tunnel. Avoided it at all costs. Not just because it went under the river, but because it marked the beginning of Founders Park—our preserved piece of history. So I always expected this tunnel, its engineering centuries old, to collapse at any moment. I watched the mounted lights go by, noting how different they were from the updated part of the city. Suddenly, Mrs. Coleman stopped the car and instructed its flashers on. Then she turned toward me.

“I need you to warn Addie when you see her. Not over the phone.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“Just tell her to be careful. Not to show her hand. They can’t know Bobby affected her in any way or they will lock her up. They think she has a piece of Bobby’s ability now. He said it went both ways when he tried to take a part of her ability.” She was talking fast, and I found myself watching her mouth so I wouldn’t miss a word. “They fear him. The first serial killer the Compound has had in over a hundred years. We thought the programs had cured that mind abnormality long ago.”

“Addie is nothing like Bobby.” It was apparent she’d wanted me to hear that conversation in the hall.

“I know.” She glanced at the clock on her dash. “Tell her to get back on the program I sent with her. It’s suppressing any advancement in her ability. Keeping her safe.” Mrs. Coleman stepped on the gas and peeled through the tunnel fast, obviously trying to make up the few minutes we had been at a standstill. “I’m glad you came today. It would’ve been too obvious if I had sought you out,” she said right before we exited. The sun blasted the window as we came out of the tunnel. She laughed. “And that is why I will never own a dog.”

I blinked. Oh. Right. She was making up a story for the tunnel. “I’m glad you didn’t hit it,” I said, doing my part. I swallowed and looked out the side window. Addie’s mom was hard-core. I had no idea.