Resilient (23 page)

I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Adam and I are the same, and that I don’t have to hide what I am from him anymore. But it doesn’t feel the way it should; it doesn’t make me relieved and happy. I think of the nightmare I had with Adam in it, where he was being tortured. I can still hear his screams in my head.  It felt real, like a warning—now this Stevens guy is telling him to stay away from me. He’s trying to protect him. He knows what’s after Adam. I wonder what else he knows. What does my uncle know? He feared for my life, too; Uncle Henry knows someone is looking for me, and it’s not just a reporter looking for a story. 

*                            *                              *

This morning, I decided that I need to get out of town—I’ve been meaning to visit Grandma for a while now, and I need to see Uncle Henry.

I turn onto Grandma’s street and pull in her driveway. This place looks exactly the way it did seven years ago. She lives in a subdivision made particularly for senior citizens. She moved here after Grandpa passed. The land along the streets is well-wooded and there’s a clubhouse for entertainment. Grandma used to take me to play bingo every Wednesday night during my summers with her. She took the game, which gave away big prizes, seriously. She won an oven once.

Before I can knock on her front door, Uncle Henry opens it.

“Hey!” he says, and gives me a hug. “She’ll be happy to see you!” His unconcealed emotion tells me he’s relieved to see me and to know I’m safe.

We walk inside and Grandma is sitting in her favorite wooden rocking chair. It used to belong to my grandpa. She says she feels closer to him when she sits there.

“Livia!” Grandma stands up. I rush to her side, and she hugs me. It feels so good to be with her—she’s so happy to see me that I feel bad for not coming to visit her sooner.

We walk into the kitchen, and on the table is lunch: it looks like Uncle Henry went out and bought everything he saw. 

“So, Livia,” Grandma says, “tell me about your new house, your new school, and your friends. I heard you even have a boyfriend now.” She puts a few pieces of cheese on a napkin and places it in my hands.

“Oh, I love the island and I do have a couple friends. But not a boyfriend, not anymore.” I feel the pain deep inside of me. I haven’t seen or talked to Adam since Friday. 

“What happened, dear? Why was it over so soon?”

“I just didn’t feel like I could be myself around him.” I look at my uncle when I say that, and I know he understands what I mean.

“Oh, that’s no good. You will find someone who will love you for who you are, and that’s the only way, Livia. You have to always be yourself.”

Grandma and I hang out together while Uncle Henry makes sure she has everything she needs before we leave. He’s coming home with me because it’s closer to the airport and he needs to be back in New York in the morning. I hear him while he goes over the list for the fifth time.

“Mom, please listen to the nurse and don’t skip your meds. It’s important that you take them every day, on time.” As he tells her, she winks at me. 

“Don’t you worry, son. I’ll comply with everything, if I want to be around for a good long time to annoy you!” 

Too soon, we say our goodbyes, and I promise to visit again before long. “It was great seeing you, Grandma.”

“And it was wonderful to have you over, Livia; you are as beautiful as always.”

I kiss Grandma goodbye, and Uncle Henry and I drive back home.

In the car, after listening to him chat about our current president and the economic crisis, I can’t take it any longer.

“Uncle?” He is driving and won’t meet my eyes. “Last weekend at the country store, the man you were talking to in the parking lot…” His emotions begin to shift, so I trail off. I can tell this is a sensitive subject, which only proves that there is more to it than what he admits.

“What about him?”

“Do you know him?” 

“No, why?” He’s too quick to answer. 

“He followed me and Adam that night.” 

“What? What did he tell you?” His overriding emotion, which he is trying to shield, is an intense anger.

“He was trying to get Adam to talk to him, but Adam sent him away.”

“Livia,” he sighs.

“What aren’t you telling me? I empathized with the guy. He didn’t seem to be a bad person. He had a strong need to protect Adam. He feared for his life and Adam’s. And he was hurt; his eye and his hand.”

“Then he was probably trying to protect Adam.” 

“But why would he need protection?”

“I don’t know what kind of trouble Adam is involved with, Livia.  Maybe you should stay away from him.”

“The last time you were in my house, you feared for my life—you, too, wanted to protect me from some kind of danger.”

“The convent incident concerned me. People were asking about you, and they shouldn’t have been. That has nothing to do with Adam or this guy.”

“So you think there are people after me?” I ask, trying a different approach.

“I don’t think so, but it won’t hurt to be careful.”

“Why don’t we just tell the police?”

“There’s nothing to tell; nobody has threatened you in any way, and besides, what would we say? That someone might be looking for you because they know about your abilities?” 

“Who would be looking for me, though?  And how would they know?”

“Livia, there’s no one looking, okay? I think you’re reading in too deep.”

“I think you know more than you’re telling me.”

“I’m not keeping anything from you,” he says calmly, as if he’s trying to pass off an aura of serenity that isn’t present within him.

He is just feeding me more lies, and as horrible as it is, I don’t feel like I can trust him either, so I don’t say anything about Adam and me sharing the same abilities. I know he’s trying to protect me from something or someone, but I don’t want him to think he should protect me from Adam. 

If anything, I could have to protect Adam from my uncle. I don’t know what his reaction would be if he knew, and that scares me.

“The other day, at my house,” I start again, “why were you trying to keep my father from helping me?” 

“That’s ridiculous!” he snaps. “I just don’t want to see your father frustrated by leads that don’t take him anywhere. He’s a busy man already.”

“My DNA changing doesn’t seem like a dead end to me.”

His hands tighten around the steering wheel, and it’s a long moment before he replies, “I understand that you’re going through a difficult time, Livia, but that doesn’t justify you throwing stones at someone who has always been there for you.”

I don’t say anything else for the rest of the way home.

*                            *                              *

It’s Monday and I’m dragging myself out of the house to go to school. That’s the last place I want to be right now.  I don’t want to see Adam or be close to him; it scares me to think that I might be bringing danger into his life. 

As I drive to school, I decide to stop the car in a dead end road and wait for the first class to be over. That way I avoid seeing Adam, and I don’t have to attend to Ms. Creepy’s class. The face of Ms. Johnson flashes in my mind and a cold sensation follows suit, crawling up my spine. Could she be the one who is after Adam and me? That would make sense; she’s always shielding her emotions. Anyone doing that consciously must probably know about us. 

I get to school right as the bell rings and I hurry to get my book out of my locker. As I’m locking it back up, Ms. Johnson passes by me, giving me her usual piercing stare; she points her index finger at me. “You weren’t in my class.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry. I woke up late.”

“Is that so? Well then, you can make it up to me at detention this afternoon. Be here at precisely two forty-five.”  She walks away before I can complain.

*                            *                              *

On lunch break, I meet up with Brianna and sit with her and Matt. I’m relieved that Adam isn’t here—one less thing to deal with. 

“Have you talked to Adam since Friday night?” Brianna asks.

“No.”

“Livia, I was there. I saw Lindsay getting closer to Adam, but I also saw him pushing her away.”

“I think our problems are way beyond Lindsay at this point.”

“He was devastated after you left, honestly. I’ve never seen Adam that upset over a girl.” Brianna smiles. “I think whatever it is, you two need to work it out,” she proposes, taking a bite of her sandwich. I look at my plate and I push the tray away. I’m not a bit hungry today. “Next weekend is homecoming. I’m sure he’s planning on asking you to go with him.”

“I don’t think so, Bri.”

“He was nominated for king!”

“And you for Queen,” Matt says. “And you’ll be the most beautiful queen this school has ever had.” He kisses Brianna’s cheek.  For a moment, I’m jealous.

“We don’t know if I’ll win,” Bri says, but she’s confident. “So Livia, will you think about giving Adam a second chance?”

“It’s just not a good time for me and Adam right now, Bri. It’s not that I don’t believe him.”

“It happens.” Matt says, taking a bite of his pizza.

“It’s a shame; you two make a beautiful couple.” Brianna lets her lips curls into a melancholy sulk. “But I don’t think it’s over; not for him, anyway.”

Before my next class, I head to the library to get some books to take home. Reading keeps my mind off things. I walk into the library, but I stop short when I see Adam and Kyle on a computer. I sneak behind them, hoping they don’t see me. I hurry down to the biology aisle, desperate for a book on human genetics. I want to look into it again and do some more research—my parents and uncle have that territory mapped out already, but who knows? I might find something they overlooked. 

If only Adam knew more than I do, then he could be of help. But from what he said, he has no clue why we have these abilities and, for now, I have to avoid him.  I have to keep him safe.

I take three books with me; they are big, but I can get through them by the end of the week. I open the door to leave the library, but just as I do, a strong pang like an electric shock spreads through my left arm, and I drop the books on the floor.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” a male voice says, and it takes me a moment to realize that someone bumped into me. I recognize him from the football practice last Friday. He’s the coach’s new assistant. Brianna was right: he’s very good looking. Tall with bright green eyes, lean but strong, and his head is shaved. He’s already kneeling to get my books, but offers me his hand to shake.

“Hi,” he smiles. “I’m Daniel.”

“I’m Livia.” I shake his hand and a vision flashes through my mind at the contact.

It’s raining and he’s soaking wet, standing in front of my building in New York. He keeps tapping his hand against his leg, anxious, waiting for someone. A black Lincoln approaches and honks. He walks towards the car, pulls the door open, and glances at the building one more time. He didn’t find who he was looking for and disappointment overtakes him. 

I stand, frozen, staring at him. This is the second time I’ve gotten a visual picture when touching someone, but this time it was so much clearer, as if I was watching a movie. And, in a way, I was in it. 

“Here,” he says, returning my books.

“Have I met you before?” I say absently.

“No, I don’t think so.” His brow furrows as he watches me. “Hey, on second thought, do you need help with those?”

“You probably just remind me of someone,” I say, pulling the books closer to my chest. “I’ll see you around.” I wave goodbye and walk out the door. I glance back once—he is entering the library, and Adam is staring out the doors, right at me. 

*                            *                              *

It’s 2:40 p.m. when I enter the detention room. I’ve never been in detention before. I guess there is a first time for everything. I sit down and wait for Ms. Johnson. Hardly a minute passes before the door opens and Adam walks in. 

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“I was late for class. I was waiting for you at the school entrance this morning, but you never showed.” He sits in the desk next to me. “Why are you avoiding me? You can’t really think that we’re safer apart.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, but I don’t say anything.

The door opens again and Ms. Johnson walks in. “Adam, your seat is over here.” She points to a desk closer to her. He looks at me and rolls his eyes. “I want you both to read the poem in Chapter Eight and analyze it. You must write at least a full page. You have forty-five minutes.”

This shouldn’t be hard; I’ve already read this entire textbook. I start writing my paper and I’m done in less than thirty minutes. I walk up to the teacher’s and hand in my response. Ms. Johnson keeps her emotions shielded as always, but today the shield is oscillating more than usual. Even so, I can’t find a loophole, and wonder how she keeps her defense so solid.

 “You’ve completed the paper far too quickly,” she says as I gather my stuff.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t I do what you asked for?” I ask.

Adam frowns at me.

She looks at me now and a slight smile surfaces. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

“I was just replying to you,” I say. She and Adam look at me, puzzled. “You just told me that I finished too quickly.”

“I didn’t say a thing,” she says, and now I’m the one confused. I look at Adam for support, but he shakes his head slightly. 

“Your work is impeccable,” Ms. Johnson continues. “I don’t recall the last time I saw someone interpret poetry as easily as you do. It’s like you truly understand what the writer was feeling.” She looks at my paper and then back at me. “How do you do it?”

“I just think about what I read,” I say, and she nods.

“I was going through your school records. Both of you.” She glances from me to Adam. “You have one of the highest GPAs in the school, Adam. And you too, Livia, on your transcript from New York.”

“I study a lot,” I say. 

“Do you? Or does it just come naturally to you—like a photographic memory or some special ability?” She lingers on the word ability and my stomach cramps. I look at Adam and he’s staring at me, a hint of anxiety in his eyes.