Tempest

  I turned around and ran back toward the bus. Dozens of little heads were watching me through the windows. I trudged up the steps and shook the rain from my hair. All the eyes had moved from the windows to me, standing in the aisle. Holly’s gaze locked with mine for a second, but I stepped right around her and slid into the seat next to Adam.

  I felt a twinge of guilt when Holly took an empty spot, alone, without asking any questions. And I knew she wanted to. The way everyone was staring, it must have been quite a scene.

  “What was with the kid you were chasing?” Adam asked.

  I had to look away from him. “Nothing … she just looks like someone. False alarm. No big deal.”

  Adam leaned his head closer and spoke again after a minute of silence. “She looks like Courtney, right?”

  I sighed but finally conceded by nodding. “It’s stupid. I know.”

  “It’s not stupid. It happens to people all the time.” He drew in a quick breath before whispering, “Wait … you don’t think … hmm … it’s an interesting theory, but way too many logistical problems.”

  “Just forget it,” I said, before he could drill me with questions. “Please.”

  There was no way around it. My twin sister was dead. Four years later and it still haunted me. She still haunted me. Mostly because I missed her so much.

  When we were filing up to get off the bus, Holly waited for me and stepped in my path. “You okay?”

  I stared at her eyes, which were full of concern, then shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

  Her face fell and she turned her back on me. “Nothing … never mind.”

  Okay, so I totally sucked at the personal, boyfriend shit. Holly never came right out and said that, but I knew she was thinking it.

  I took her soaking-wet backpack off her shoulder and threw it over mine. “So … you want to come over … maybe dry off before we go out anywhere?”

  She jumped off the last step and onto the sidewalk before facing me and smiling. “Sure.”

  I wrapped one hand around her blond ponytail and squeezed water out of the end. “I think you’re going to need a blow dryer.”

  She reached up and rested her hands on my face, her light blue eyes turning serious, like Adam had a few minutes ago. “Are you sure you’re okay? What were you—”

  “I’m just a little bit of a freak sometimes. That’s all.” I forced a grin and turned her shoulders toward the front doors of the YMCA so we could get out of the rain.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2009, 6:00 P.M.

  Tonight, me and my sidekick are implementing a plan that has been in the works for a while: stealing my medical records from Dr. Melvin’s office. Adam’s convinced we may find something in there to indicate why I’m such a freak of nature. But seriously, does he think “Crazy Time Traveler” will be stamped on the outside of the folder?

  I’ve spent the last week observing Dr. Melvin’s erratic and very inconsistent schedule. Basically, he’s always working. Except two nights ago. This experiment will involve a two-day time jump into the past (my current record), and some very scientific and devious maneuvers.

  Adam’s on his way back from MIT now and is probably pulling out his hair, trying to come up with all the formulas beforehand. I’ve done my part, writing down my goal, and now I just have to rearrange my plans with Holly. Adam’s trips home have been so last-minute since school started that I keep canceling on Holly. But she’s totally busy with classes and some kind of dancing team. She’ll probably be relieved. Besides, I can still make it to dinner, just not the movie … Speaking of dinner. Shit! I’m already 15 minutes late …

  More data entry later.

  OCTOBER 29, 2009, 9:30 P.M.

  Okay, so maybe Holly didn’t take the change in plans as well as I thought she would.

  “Come on, Holly, open the door.”

  Two girls zipped past in bathrobes, giggling.

  I turned back to Lydia. “She doesn’t want to see you,” she sneered. “This is exactly why I decided against men. I’ve been telling Holly for nearly a month that she needs to do the same.”

  I fought back the urge to shout at Holly’s eternally angry roommate. Her arms were spread in front of the door, blocking me. Like I might try to knock it down or something. “Lydia, don’t you have a Sylvia Plath Fan Club meeting to go to?”

  Music started playing from the other side of the door.

  “You’re just darling, Jackson. Now I’m really not giving you my key.”

  I banged my head gently against the wall next to the door. “Please let me in.”

  “Don’t forgive him. He’ll just screw with you. Again and again,” Lydia shouted.

  Okay, I am seriously going to strangle this chick.

  A door flew open behind us and I turned to look at the girl standing with a thick textbook cradled in her arms. “Jackson, I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to study. And Lydia, please shut up. No one cares about your angry men-hating rants.”

  The music coming from Holly’s room cranked up even louder. I turned to Lydia and shouted over the noise, “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars to hand over your key and disappear for the night.”

  I waited for her lecture about violating the dorm rules or some shit about women giving up the metaphorical “keys” in life.

  To my surprise, her dark eyebrows lifted and she said, “Make it two hundred.”

  I opened my wallet and pulled out a credit card and thrust it in her hand. “Just take this.”

  She dropped the key onto the floor in front of me and took off down the hall. I sighed with relief.

  “Thank you!” the girl behind me said.

  I snatched the key from the floor and held it to the doorknob. “Hol, please talk to me.”

  The only answer I got was the chorus of a Pink song. I put the key in the door and opened it slowly, expecting to see Holly standing on the other side, waiting for me. So she could steal the key and shove me out again.

  A red shoe flew across the room and slammed into the wall above the window. I stepped inside and shut the door before glancing around the room. Holly’s feet stuck out from the closet along with the ends of her blue bathrobe.

  I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me come in, but then again, maybe the shoe was meant for me. Wouldn’t be the first time a girl had thrown a shoe at me, but for Holly, it was a bit out of character.

  I had to dodge a brown sandal as I crossed the room to turn off the stereo. As soon as the music stopped, she quit digging through her junk, crawled out of the closet, and stood right in front of me.

  “I have good news,” I said, attempting to smile, but it didn’t quite go with the mood. “Lydia’s actually willing to turn off her angry-girl mouth for the right price. She won’t be back until tomorrow.”

  “Seriously? You paid my roommate to leave?”

  There wasn’t even the slightest hint of amusement on her face. A knot formed in my stomach.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?” Just by saying this I had admitted that I knew it was more than just canceling a movie. Very stupid on my part. I reached out my hand, but her arms stayed folded over her chest.

  “You’re always hiding stuff from me, running around with Adam like a couple of little kids.”

  “Are you jealous? I know he was your friend first, but maybe we can work out a schedule.” Bad. Very bad. The absolute wrong thing to say. I cringed, waiting for her to shout or grab another shoe to launch in my direction.

  She turned her back on me and walked over to her desk, sifting through a pile of papers. “Fine. You’re right. It’s no big deal.”

  It would have been impossible to insert even one more drop of sarcasm into her voice. And it hit me like a gust of icy air. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to come up with something decent to say. Or to decide if I should run. Instead, I went for a change in subject. “Did you … lose something? You were digging through the closet?”

  “Yes. One of my memory ca
rds.” She slammed a book against the desk, her back still to me. “I really need to study, okay?”

  I snatched a couple of shoes from the floor and tossed them back into the closet. “Well … maybe I could help—”

  “No,” she said quickly before hitting the power button on her computer monitor. She let out a breath and her shoulders relaxed. “Seriously, Jackson, just go so I can get something done. Please.”

  The sarcasm had dropped from her voice, leaving only an exhausted and slightly exasperated tone. She was giving me an easy way out of this argument. But curiosity took over and I opened my mouth again. “Hol, why are you so pissed?”

  She shook her head a little. “I’m not … mad at you.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Then what…?”

  What do you want from me? I had started to say, because I really didn’t know. But the words got stuck in my throat when I saw the drop of water fall onto the piece of paper in front of her. I took a couple steps toward her and she turned around, giving me a one-second glimpse of her tears before she leaned her head against my chest, hiding her face. “You never tell me anything … It’s … it’s like you have this whole other life and I can’t be in it.”

  Hearing the tears trembling in her voice hit me harder than I expected. I should have run when I had the chance. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t mean to push you away. I’m … I’m sorry.”

  Holly ducked under my arms and flopped down on the bed, her blond hair spilling around her. She groaned loudly. “I hate that I can’t stay mad at you.”

  I released the breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding and lay down next to her, burying my face in her neck. “I thought you said you weren’t mad.”

  She slapped her hands over her eyes and pressed down hard. “I was mad. Past tense.”

  “Does this mean we get to have makeup sex?”

  She cracked a smile, then her mouth formed a thin line again. “Only if you promise no more secrets … ever.”

  Not possible. No way.

  She sat up and I glided my fingers up and down her back. “You’ll cave either way.”

  She turned and raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

  “Okay, I promise.”

  “Liar.” She laughed and pulled my shirt off, tossing it over the lamp. “Lydia’s going to be such a bitch tomorrow.”

  I pulled her back down and loosened the tie on her robe. “She’s at least two hundred dollars richer, so there’s nothing to bitch about. And when is she not angry?”

  “Never. But thank you for one night free of feminist lectures.”

  I leaned over and whispered, “Consider it your makeup gift.”

  She wiggled out of her robe. “Do I get anything else?”

  “Like a new car?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “A pound of that really expensive nondairy chocolate?”

  She kissed the length of my neck. “You know what I want.”

  I groaned loudly. “Not a chance.”

  “Please.”

  “You’re turning me into a complete freak. Or worse—a chick.” I made the mistake of turning my head. One glimpse of the tears still drying on her cheeks and I caved. “If you tell anyone, I will kick your little ass. Got it?”

  She mimed zipping her lips, then snuggled up to me. “Do you think you can manage a British accent this time?”

  I laughed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll try.” Adam and my medical records could wait.

  “Okay, on with it.”

  I rolled my eyes, then took a deep breath. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness…”

  My ninth-grade English teacher always made us recite Dickens while standing in front of the class. I hated it. For Holly, I didn’t mind too much, but I’d never tell her that.

  “Do you think he did the right thing?” Holly asked after I’d recited the first few pages.

  “You mean Sydney? Getting his head chopped off so the woman he loves can be with another man?”

  Holly laughed and her lips vibrated against my chest. “Yeah.”

  “No, I think he’s a complete moron.” I kissed the corner of her mouth and she grinned at me.

  “You’re lying.”

  I pulled her closer and kissed her again, ending the discussion that would inevitably lead to spilling out more secrets than I cared to share.

  “You weren’t aiming those shoes at anyone earlier, were you?” I asked in between kisses.

  She leaned over me, her hair forming a yellow curtain around us. “I didn’t even know you were in here.”

  “Okay, good, because that red shoe had a really pointy heel. You could take someone’s eye out with that.”

  She laughed really hard and then kissed me again before whispering in my ear, “I’ll save it for all my other boyfriends.”

  * * *

  I woke up early the next morning to Holly’s alarm buzzing loudly in my ear. Blond hair tickled my nose and a big chunk fell right in my mouth. She slammed her fist into the snooze button before mumbling, “I set it so you wouldn’t miss your eight o’clock lab.”

  “I can skip it today.” I pushed her hair from my face and kissed the back of her neck. “Go back to sleep.”

  She pulled my arm tighter around her, then muttered something nearly incoherent, but it sounded like, “Tell me a secret.”

  This was Holly’s favorite game. I usually responded with a random and stupid remark like “I used to have a crush on Hilary Duff.” But after last night’s argument, I owed her a little better than that.

  I touched my lips to her ear and whispered, “I’m crazy about you.”

  I could practically hear her smile right before we both drifted back to sleep.

  * * *

  My eyes opened again two hours later. This time to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I reached for my jeans and yanked a T-shirt over my head before shaking Holly. “I think Lydia’s back.”

  She groaned and grabbed her robe from the floor, and then opened the door. Two men pushed past her and strode into the room.

  “What…?” Holly said, grabbing the sides of her robe and tying them tight.

  One of the men, the shorter one with red hair, slammed the door shut. “That’s him,” he said to the other man.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  The shorter one looked right at me. “Are you Kevin Meyer’s son?”

  My heart rate sped. Something had happened … When was the last time I’d seen my dad…? Two days ago, I remembered. He’d been out of the country since.

  “Is he … okay?”

  Holly drew in a breath and moved closer to me, squeezing my hand. I could guess the theories spinning through her head: company plane crashed into a mountain somewhere, leaving the CEO’s only child without a single living family member. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

  The taller of the two men reached into his jacket and flashed a badge, too fast to read it. “You need to come with us.”

  Cops … maybe FBI? Investigative reporters? Or maybe my dad’s pharmaceutical company was being charged with money-laundering or some other scandal. My dad and his clan of business advisers had drilled into me, on many occasions, the lengths reporters will go to get information for a story. And the quick flash of the badge, not letting me really see what it said …

  I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Jackson, maybe you should—”

  I held my hand up to silence Holly before turning my eyes back on the men. “What paper are you with?”

  The two men looked at each other and the taller one shrugged before uncertainly saying, “Newspaper?”

  I raised my arm and pointed at the door behind them. “Get out. Both of you.”

  Holly slowly sidestepped behind me without turning her back on the intruders.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Holly inching backward towar
d her dresser, reaching for something. A cell phone? Pepper spray?

  “Are you currently involved with any government agencies?” the short one asked. “Have they approached you with information?”

  These dudes are seriously pissing me off. I quickly scanned the room for a makeshift weapon, and slowly reached for a tall floor lamp.

  Before I could open my mouth to speak, one of Holly’s shoes flew across the room and hit the shorter man on the side of the face. His head snapped in her direction. I could see a heel print burning bright red above his eye. I felt the blood rush to my face as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Channeling Carlos Beltrán, I swung for the fences. The lamp’s glass shade connected squarely with Holly’s shoe print. He crashed backward, his body slamming against the door. A shard of glass had opened a good-sized gash above his left eye.

  Crouching low, with his arms spread wide, he dove for my legs. Instantly my feet went out from under me, smashing me facedown into the tile floor.

  The other man stepped over our tangled bodies as he advanced toward Holly. Holly inched backward with her right hand behind her back.

  “Just cooperate, and no one will hurt you,” the advancing man said to Holly.

  Before he could complete the sentence, she revealed her right hand. Her clenched fist erupted in a well-aimed stream of pepper spray. “Get out of my room!”

  “Fuck!” he shouted, leaning over and rubbing his eyes.

  Holly darted around him and ran toward the door.

  The short man and I both scrambled to our feet. While he was distracted by his partner’s screams, I followed Holly to the door.

  From behind me, I heard, “Freeze! Don’t move!”

  I turned in time to see the short man’s hand plunge into his half-unzipped jacket. His hand emerged, tightly gripping a semiautomatic pistol. He aimed directly at my head with only one eye, his vision obscured by the flow of blood.

  I sucked in a breath, knowing I was in over my head. Defeated. Holly’s hands froze on the knob, her back now pressed against the door.

  The tall guy held up one hand and kept the other one over his eyes. “No … not yet. Only if he jumps.”