I stood and walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and flipped on the garbage disposal. “Okay, pencil, your death is imminent.” I held the pencil, tip down, above the sink. Just as I dropped it, my dad walked in, and my heart doubled its beat. The pencil’s path to the sink slowed and I swiped it out of the air, slammed it on the counter, and turned off the garbage disposal. I cringed and kept my back to him. I should’ve just let it fall. Outside the window in front of me, a little girl rode by on her bike at normal speed. My head burst with pain. I leaned into the counter.
“What are you doing?” His voice sounded normal, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Gritting through the pain, I grabbed a dirty plate inside the sink and ran the sponge over it a few times before I spoke. “Cleaning this plate.”
I turned off the water and returned to my computer before he had too much time to assess. Double-clicking on the brain icon, I settled in for some mind expansion, trying to ignore my pounding head.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” My mom had always warned me not to push my ability too hard too soon. She was right. I had obviously damaged something. This was not good. I loosened my shoulders and tried to relax. If heightened emotions were bringing out this ability, I just needed to learn not to let my emotions take over.
“Is your head still bothering you?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been resting your ability?”
“No, not really.”
He let out a frustrated sigh.
“I know. I will.” Starting now. My program filled the screen.
“What is that?”
“Oh, just a morning routine. Mom sent it with me.”
His face hardened for the briefest moment. “Is it a new one?”
“Sort of. I got it a few weeks before I came.”
“You’re not even supposed to have that here.”
“They approved it.” I pointed to the black stick in the computer. “That’s why it’s on a flash drive.”
“This isn’t resting.”
“I don’t really consider this work. It’s a part of my daily routine.”
“Have you been doing it every day since you’ve been here?”
“Not every day.”
“Can I see it?”
I pulled it out and handed it to him. He flipped it over in his hand several times and then held it up to the light. I didn’t understand what he was looking for, but then he said, “Can I . . . will you . . .”
I waited. My dad rarely hesitated on a sentence.
“I’d like to speak with your mother about this.” He pocketed the flash drive without asking my permission and pulled out his phone while he walked away. Nothing worse than parents just laying down the law without explanation.
I sat, frustrated for a moment, then followed after him. If he wasn’t going to tell me why he did that, I’d find out on my own. And by “on my own” I meant “eavesdropping.”
I pressed my ear to his closed door and advanced my hearing. He was midsentence. “. . . had discussed this. No more experimental programs. Let it go, Marissa, she’s developing fine.” Long pause. “No, but I want to. I still think we should.” Another long pause. “Of course she’ll be angry, but better now than later.” He grunted. “That’s not true. And if we’re going to talk about unfair advantages, I think you have them all, from her friends to her school.”
I was so lost, but that didn’t stop me from listening.
“No, I told you I’d wait, and I’ll wait. But we need to tell her soon. . . . . Stumble upon it? I don’t think so. I pulled some strings and got it moved into Pioneer Plaza just in case for some reason she ended up at the local cemetery with a friend.”
Cemetery? What was going on? I wanted to burst into the room and force my dad to tell me what he was talking about. But at the same time all my limbs were frozen with the thought that they were keeping something huge from me. The last time they’d sat me down, it was to tell me they were getting a divorce. I wasn’t sure I could handle their secrets on their terms anymore. My dad hung up the phone, and I backed away from his door.
I dialed Stephanie’s number and slipped into my room.
“Hi, Addie.”
“Hey.” I shut myself in the closet for the added layer of sound protection, not that I thought my dad would spy on me, but just in case.
“How are you?”
“I’m okay. I have a question. What’s Pioneer Plaza?”
“Pioneer Plaza? Downtown?”
I fingered the sleeve on one of my hanging shirts. “I guess.”
“It’s a park that has all these bronze statues of cowboys and bulls. I think it’s supposed to be like a tribute to the pioneers who settled Dallas or something.”
What? “Do you think you could take me there sometime this week?”
“I have cheer practice all week. I would take you after, but it’s probably not a good idea to go downtown after dark. How about next week?”
“Yeah. Okay.” But next week wasn’t soon enough for me. Maybe I could borrow my dad’s car and go by myself . . . and get lost and mugged and kidnapped. Well, maybe not those last two, but definitely the first one.
It took me a minute to realize Stephanie was in the middle of a sentence. I tried to catch up. She was telling a story about cheer and some girl named Lindsey. I was completely lost until she said, “So Lindsey thinks Trevor might still like me. What do you think?”
“Do you still like him?” I already knew the answer, but I wondered if she had admitted it to herself yet.
“I don’t know anymore. I don’t want to, but we have this history together, you know? And it’s hard to just erase history.”
“True.” It’s actually very easy, I thought. “You want my honest opinion?”
“Yes, of course.”