Twice Shy (13 page)

There was a small spot of drama before lunch, when Mrs. Weller saw Jake selling oranges to the noobs for five bucks a piece.
Serves him right. They're jaded, not stupid.
The oranges were confiscated, and Jake was marched off to the principal's office.

Ani had just survived another period of polyhedron proofs and was working on her homework when the announcement hit that all eighth graders were to report to their busses. As Suicide Twin #1 said her goodbyes, Ani caught Mike's eye and smiled. His eyes flicked away.
I thought....

Feeling like a plague victim, she went back to her homework. A few minutes later, Mr. Gursslin's phone rang. "Yes?" A pause. "She is. I'll send her right down." He hung up the phone. "Ani? You're wanted in the office." Everyone looked at her. Everyone except Mike.

Why would they want me?

"Why?" she asked.

Mr. Gursslin shrugged. "They didn't say. There's only a minute left. Go ahead and take your books." She packed up her stuff and limped out of the room, left foot dragging across the tile where she couldn't quite lift it.

When she got to the main office the secretary told her to sit. "Mr. Bastian will be with you in a moment." The bell rang, and she endured the curious stares of walkers-by, student and teacher alike. She'd never been inside the principal's office. Her stomach erupted in butterflies.

A few minutes later Mr. Bastian's door opened. Jake emerged, red-faced, his mother right behind him. He kept his head down as she badgered him with whispers, and if he noticed Ani he made no effort to communicate.
Oh, shit.

Mr. Bastian stood at the door in a blue, single-breasted suit. Five-eight or so, he was lean, clean-shaven and almost bald even though he couldn't be more than forty. She usually saw him smiling, and his current guarded expression was unnerving.

"Miss Romero, my office, please."

Her mind raced.
I don't know what you're talking about.
She got to her feet slower than she had to and dragged her foot more than necessary.
It wasn't me. He's lying.
Step, drag.
I'm in pain and under stress and made a bad decision.
Step, drag.
Yeah. That last one is pretty good.
She got to the doorway and looked into the eyes of her mother, red-faced and furious, at the principal's conference table. The butterflies grew claws and teeth.
I'm doomed.

As Mr. Bastian turned to escort her to the table, her mom gave her a wink.
Or not.
He pulled out a chair and she sat down, feeling better already. She winced as she scooted forward and let out a tiny grunt of discomfort.

"Miss Romero," he began. "Do you know why you're here?"
Because my friends are idiots?

She looked at her mom, who gave her the barest of nods, and crossed her arms for effect.

"Am I in trouble?"

He glanced at her mom, then back to her. "Yes. Do you know why?"

"Does it have something to do with Jake?" She didn't have to fake a scowl.
That jerk ratted me out.

"Yes, it does. If you tell the truth, it will speak well for you."
And if I could lie with a straight face I'd deny everything.

She locked her eyes on her mom.
Maybe he'll think I'm afraid of looking at him.
She let out a huge sigh, put her head in her hands, and mumbled.

"Last week Jake asked if I could score him some booze. I took two bottles of vodka from the liquor cabinet and gave them to him."

Her mom uttered a disappointed "Oh, honey!" that she had to admire.

"Jake is an idiot and brought vodka-soaked oranges to school today. Mrs. Weller caught him, you put two and two together, and here I am."

"That's correct," he said.
Duh.
He touched her hand to get her attention, and she jerked it out of his grip. "Do you know that distributing alcohol on school grounds is a felony?"

She crossed her arms again, trying to look as sullen as possible while her mom glared at her. "Sucks for Jake."
That wasn't a lie.

"I wasn't talking about Jake," he said. "Anyone involved could face expulsion as well as jail time."

Her eyes widened and she looked at her mom, then at him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—I didn't bring anything onto school grounds. I gave those bottles to him at the gravel pit. Ask him. Ask Fey—Tiffany." She winced.
Oh, shit. Don't kill me, Fey.

Her mom jumped to her rescue. "You have no evidence that my daughter had anything to do with that alcohol coming to school."
Go, Mom!

He frowned at her. "Sarah, she gave alcohol to a minor—"

"Who's older than I am!" Ani retorted.

"—which is also a felony." He looked at Ani. "Ani, will you excuse us for a moment?"

Her mom's lips tightened as Ani got up and lurched out of the room. A boy sat on the bench next to the secretary's desk, mumbling to himself. Mr. Bastian closed the door behind her.

Her mom's voice was muffled but audible. "I'm on-board with reasonable disciplinary measures for this, Geoff, but if you try to have my daughter prosecuted things will go very, very badly for you."

"Have you forgotten that I'm your boss?"

"Have you forgotten basketball sectionals last year? Prescription narcotics? A directive not to report it? 'It would be bad for school morale if this got out.' That's what you said, wasn't it?"

The boy looked at Ani, his eyes wide.

Ani had to strain to hear Mr. Bastian's reply. "You're treading on dangerous ground, Sarah. You have no evidence that conversation ever took place."

There was a pause. "I carry this with me everywhere I go. Would you like me to play it back to you?" If he replied, Ani didn't hear it. "I will accept five days of in-school suspension, and no police. It's reasonable."
Especially since I didn't do anything even vaguely in the jurisdiction of the school.
Pretending misery got easier every day.

"Five days out of school," he countered. "All drug and alcohol cases get out of school suspension."
Except sports teams, apparently.

"No superintendent's hearing, no cops, and I stay home to supervise my daughter, who has been through so much lately. And it doesn't count as personal time."

"It's a deal. Now get out of my office."

*  *  *

"Oh, my God that was incredible!" Ani said as she got in the car.

"Don't smile," her mom said. "People can see us."

She stared at her feet and concentrated on the pain in her hip. "I can't believe you let the basketball team off the hook for being high."

"I was ordered to, and besides, it gave me ammunition I might someday have to use." She started the car but left it in park. She turned ferocious eyes on Ani. "You're my baby girl."

"I know, Mom." She looked back down at the floor and tried not to smile. "It's a good thing you recorded that conversation."

Her mom scowled as she put the car in gear. "It's a good thing he doesn't know I didn't."

Chapter 16

Five days of out-of-school suspension plus the weekend gave them seven and a half days of research time. They stocked up on groceries to minimize interruptions and headed to the basement. Her mom was focused on something "promising"—it was Ani's job to fetch equipment, turn dials, and of course donate skin, muscle, and whatever other cells were required. Her hip bothered her, and she felt like Igor, shuffling about the laboratory to fulfill the whims of Doctor Frankenmom.

She spent the night in the bath, got up, and went right back to work. Ani got a lot of reading done as her mom prepared solutions, fiddled with tissue plastic and glass plates coated with agar or collagen or something called Matrigel, tinkered with settings, and looked through microscopes. The printer spat out images from the electron microscope, viruses attacking cells and cells regenerating under chemical treatment. Used samples went into the biohazard incinerator. Her mom spoke into the recorder, and Ani transcribed the notes onto the computer—even if she didn't understand half of what she typed.

The next night they were testing another serum with the same appetite suppression, but with better healing power. Her mom thought it might be enough to repair some of her more delicate tissues—sweat glands, tear ducts, salivary glands. "If this works, you might be able to cut down on baths to once, maybe twice a week," her mom said.

Ani beamed. "Oh, man, that'd be awesome." She lurched her way upstairs for some audio books. When she got back, the 'just in case' room was prepped. She looked at the recliner, the leather and metal straps, and she started to shake.
Dylan's lips were warm and soft on her forehead where he had pressed the gun barrel. He kissed her eyelids, her cheek, her neck.

Arms wrapped her from behind, warm and comforting. "It'll be okay, sweetie. He can't hurt you now." The reassurances didn't help. At last, her mother sighed. "I'll bring the cot down, sleep right outside the door. Would that help?"

Ani leaned her head into her mother's arm and smiled. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, sweetie. Now get in the chair, please."

Ani shuffled forward, each step harder than the last, but she made it. Once Ani was strapped in and gagged, her mother injected her with the serum, a sharp pinch followed by nothing. A warm glow suffused her, enveloping her in its comforting softness. Her mom, fuzzy and indistinct, asked her the same questions she always asked.

"How do you feel, honey?" Ani widened her eyes and lolled her head back and forth.

Her mom spoke for the camera. "Subject is experiencing intoxication." Her voice sounded too deep by an octave and too slow by half.

"Any discomfort?" Ani shook her head, setting the world to swimming. She couldn't even feel her hip.

"Trouble thinking?" She nodded, rocking the planet, and her mom turned to the camera.

Her stomach lurched. A stabbing pain wracked her abdomen, shattered through her body. The world drowned in blood, and she drooled at the meat in front of her.
Right there. Closer. Closer.
There was something in her mouth. She chewed at it, pushed it with her tongue, but it wouldn't dislodge. She moaned in frustration.

The meat came closer, and she could smell something more, something better.
Brains. Delicious brains.
She snapped and struggled but couldn't move. Couldn't eat. She howled in rage and despair as the meat moved behind her. She could smell it, almost taste it, so close.
So close.
But not close enough.

She pulled, her muscles straining against the metal cutting into her skin.
Brains!
Choking on her own saliva, she screamed against the gag. There was a prick at the back of her neck, and the world faded to red, and then to black. And then silence.

*  *  *

Her eyes fluttered open.
Where am I?
She looked around. Propane tubes, brick walls, an IV in both arms. She looked up at the hole in the ceiling, black and forbidding, and then out through the tiny window in the door. She craned her neck for a better look and felt a pinch in her spine just below her skull.
Auto-injector.

Out in the lab her mom was on her knees, her head in her hands, shaking. Broken glass littered the floor beside the overturned table. Her notebooks lay scattered.

Ani heard a hiss behind her and felt a warm rush as fluids injected into her brain. She tried to fight her eyelids, but they closed anyway.

*  *  *

When she came to, her mom sat in front of her, reading a book. The door was open, and there was no sign that the lab had been trashed. Everything was neat, tidy, labeled.

"Hi, Mom." It came out a wordless mumble through the bite guard.

Her mom looked up and smiled. "Hey, honey. Welcome back." She closed her book. "How do you feel?"

She thought about it.
Alone. Sad. My hip hurts. Disappointed. Not hungry, though.
She shrugged.

"Any discomfort? Trouble thinking?"

She shook her head.

"Hunger?"

She shook her head again.
A little sick to my stomach, but that's just nerves.
Her mom got up, moved behind her, and undid the strap on the gag. She pushed it out of her mouth with her tongue.

"Ugh. My jaw hurts."

"I'm not surprised," her mom said behind her. "You spent the past forty hours trying to chew through steel-reinforced leather."

Ow.
"What happened?"

Her mom stepped back in front of her, shined a penlight into first one eye, then the next. "You had a bad reaction. I flushed your system and started you back on gamma-seven. How do you feel?"

"Pretty normal, I guess."

"Good. Now open your mouth."

She opened her mouth and her mom swabbed her cheek with a Q-Tip, placed it into a receptacle, and walked back into the lab. She spoke over her shoulder. "We're going to leave you strapped down another twelve hours or so, just to be sure. That should give me time to check your saliva, make sure you're still not contagious. Music?"

"Sure, Mom."

"What do you want?" she asked, sitting at the perfectly-arranged and organized lab table.

"How about Billy Joel?"

"Billy Joel it is."

*  *  *

She didn't realize that they'd missed the January roller-skating party until she was waiting for the bus.
Damn.
It felt weird going back to school on a Thursday. She got on the bus, expecting stares, and was surprised by the complete lack of reaction. Nobody seemed to care that she was a miscreant, a criminal given the harshest sentence a principal can hand out. It was almost disappointing.

The bus pulled up to Fey's house as Fey argued with her mother. She stormed aboard, saw Ani, glared at her, then sat in the front. Ani grunted.
I guess I deserve that.

By the time she got off the bus, Fey was gone. Ani went to her locker but Fey wasn't there either. Jake was, with an apologetic shrug and downcast eyes.

"Ani, look," he said as she grabbed the handle to her locker and kicked the bottom to pop it open. "I didn't have a choice. I told them I stole it from the liquor store—what's a misdemeanor on top of a felony, right?—so they drag me down there. The guy says, 'I'm not missing any vodka,' so they know I'm lying. I didn't have a choice."