Still Point (33 page)

“She's been helping us out, keeping the FBI informed,” the president said.

I stared at my mom. “Since when?” I asked her.

“They hired me as an agent a few years ago,” she told me.

“To spy on Dad?” This was crazy.

The president smiled. “Wives make the best spies,” she said. “She's been an agent for two years now, recruited at my request, when I took office. I've never been a huge fan of this digital education system.”

Justin leaned back in his chair and laughed. He ran his hands over his face. “Your mom is an agent? This is too awesome.”

I was too surprised to laugh.

“We found the evidence we needed,” the president said. “Vaughn's been drugging students and using them as psychological experiments. He's killed hundreds of kids in the last year alone, but he covered it up with other medical illnesses.”

“You found the trash lab?” I asked.

“We owe that to your father. He discovered the first one, and we've confiscated six more. They were using passenger cars to make the drugs, the same ones transporting students to the DCs.” Her eyes met mine and softened. “I still respect your father and everything he was trying to do,” she said. “He created a wonderful system that we'll still keep as an alternative. But it's time to have other options.”

 

I sat with my mom in the lobby. She had brought me my favorite pair of jeans, soft and worn in, and a camouflage T-shirt from the riots that spelled
DS Dropouts
over the front. It was a luxury to be in my own clothes again. It made my life, no matter how changed or chaotic, feel closer to normal.

“They're releasing Joe today,” Mom said. “Want to come to the hospital with me and pick him up?” I nodded. “He's going to live at home for a few months.”

“You'll get to know him again,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “I need to be more careful what I wish for,” she said. “Wishes aren't always granted the way you expect.” She pressed her fingers over the cuff of her blouse. “They're having a memorial for your dad and all the victims at Waterfront Park, in two weeks,” she said, squeezing my hand, but I was still too shocked to respond. It hadn't sunk in that my dad was gone. The accident was still a blur. Even the protest felt like a faded memory. My mind refused to see my dad's pale skin as my last memory. I was already forgetting, and only remembering his strong, confident eyes. How impressionable they were. How on the rare occasion when he did smile, it was the most beautiful expression.

“And Justin,” my mom said. “What will he do?”

I looked down at my feet. “We haven't talked about it yet. He'll probably be traveling a lot, helping to coordinate new face-to-face schools.”

“How do you feel about that?” she asked me.

“I think it's great,” I said with sincerity. “It's who he is. It's what he lives for. He literally wants to change the world. He's more like Dad than I realized,” I admitted.

“Yes,” my mom said. “He is.”

A door swung open down the hall, and I looked up to see Justin walking side by side with the president. Assistants trailed them, and bodyguards led the way. I wasn't surprised to see it; even in street clothes, Justin fit right in. He had the same determined stride and confident arch to his back. I felt like I was watching a commercial on leadership.

My mom stood up and told me she'd wait for me outside.

“We have a driver taking us home,” she said.

I nodded and stood up to meet Justin. His face was beaming. He was in his element, flying at top speed, finally in an atmosphere he was designed for.

The president shook my hand. “What's next for you, Maddie?” she asked.

“College,” I said. “Computer law.”

“Good,” she said. “We need people like you keeping technology in check.”

“I'm hoping they can be face-to-face classes,” I hinted, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“That's what we're working on.” She looked at Justin. “Speaking of work.”

I smiled because I had seen this coming.

“I want someone like you on my team. I need help coordinating these face-to-face schools. You have the kind of following we need to get this up and running.”

Justin was nodding in agreement before she even had to ask.

“It's what I want to do with my life,” he said without hesitating. He caught my eye and smiled, one of those smiles that's so alive, when he's at his best, when life is a ten.

“When can you be on the East Coast?” she asked. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Before he could respond, she answered for him.

“I want you to start as soon as possible. Why don't you sit in on a phone call I have with the education commissioner today? We can't waste any time. If we're going to bring back face-to-face schools, it needs to happen now, while the issue is hot.”

“Of course,” he said.

The president was interrupted by an assistant, and she walked away with him, signaling that she'd be back in a few minutes. An office door closed behind them.

Justin turned to me. His eyes were intense. He pulled his hands through his hair, his signature move, indicating that he was overwhelmed.

“This is happening really fast,” he said. He was looking at me but he wasn't. I could tell that his thoughts were jumbled. I wondered if the room felt like it was moving under his feet, like it felt to me.

“I can't wrap my mind around it yet,” he said.

I nodded. “It's not every day all your dreams come true,” I said.

He studied me, and his eyes were so serious, so intense on reading mine, I had to look away. I knew what he saw, and I felt so idiotic for being sad.

So, this was how it ends, fast and final in a brightly lit room where digital canvases stretched above us depicted arched ceilings and sun rays streaking through fake-sky windows. The cream marble tiles shined under our feet. It looked like a fairy-tale ending, and instead I was getting the nightmare. The curse doesn't lift. Cinderella's slipper doesn't fit. The sleeping princess never wakes up. The end.

Even though the ceiling looked like it arched three stories high, the room felt claustrophobic. Something heavy pushed down on my shoulders. I needed fresh air. I needed to walk. I hadn't been outside in more than a week.

Justin looked at the door the president was about to walk through, and back at me.

He took a step closer, like if he studied me hard enough, he could draw out the words he wanted. “How do you feel about the East Coast?” he asked.

I forced the placid smile into place. He had to do this, and I could never let him doubt it. How could I say those two heavy, awful words to my best friend? The one responsible for waking me up, for putting me on a path that changed my life from a one to a ten?

“I think you'll thrive anywhere,” I said.

“That's not what I'm asking,” he said. “How do
you
feel about it?” The perfect lines of the tiles below my feet were starting to blur. He lifted my chin but I couldn't meet his eyes. Mine were brimming with tears.

“I have to go back home,” I said. “I don't want my mom to be alone. My family needs me right now.”

His hand dropped from my chin and squeezed my shoulder.

“Look at me,” he said. I stared into his brown eyes, dark and intense on mine.

“I know you told me that I come first,” I said, “but I'm not going to let you pass this up. You need to do this; you owe it to all of us to take this job. So don't even think of turning it down for me.”

“Then come with me,” he pressed. “I want you to come with me. I'm asking you.”

“Justin,” the assistant called out to him and waved him into the office doorway. “We're ready for you.”

Justin said he'd be right there, and turned back to me. Everyone wanted Justin. Everyone needed him.

“We have to talk about this,” he said.

“I'm leaving with my mom in a few minutes,” I said, and pointed toward the entrance.

“So your answer's no?”

I gulped in a deep breath. I felt my fingers opening and I knew I was slipping. I let myself fall, and there was something so natural about it. It was so much easier than fighting to hold on.

“We want different lives,” I said. “I want more of a middle ground.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “And you say you do too, but you're a fighter. That's what I love about you. That's why I fell in love with you. I don't want to hold you back.” I swallowed. “But I know that's your first love. That's where your heart is. I don't want to be the one who's always getting left behind.” My voice was unsteady. Truthfully, I didn't want to end up like my mom.

Justin's mouth dropped open when I said this. He was registering words he knew were true. He searched my eyes.

“Is that the only reason?” he pushed.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not blind, you know. I saw the footage.”

My lips tingled at the memory of Jax's kiss. “I didn't start that,” I said.

“You didn't stop it, either. It looked pretty mutual.”

I glared up at him. “Maybe I wanted you to get mad,” I said. “Maybe I wanted you to focus on me, to walk away from your mission for two minutes and put me first. But you let it go, didn't you? Because it was great publicity. It helped your cause. So, what's more important to you, Justin? Me, or the cause?”

His hesitation confirmed my decision.

“I'm coming back for you,” he promised.

His eyes were stubborn. But that's the problem with water. We don't wait. We keep moving. If you don't join us, if you don't keep up, we move on. If you don't hold tight to us, we slip away. It's one of our strengths. Maybe Justin would come into my life again, like streams joining in a wide river after solo runs. Things can split apart and come back together—nature proves it. People can too; scars are evidence. It's written everywhere.

His eyes started to glisten. I had always been afraid Justin would break my heart. I had never imagined I'd break his. He inhaled deeply, and when I was about to say those two words, he held up his hand.

“Don't,” he said. “I know what you're going to say. Can you give me one more chance? Just let me figure things out with this job, and then we can talk?”

I looked down the hall. “You shouldn't keep the president of the United States waiting,” I said, and tried to smile but couldn't. It was all I could do not to cry.

I turned away first because I couldn't look into his eyes. I couldn't let him see mine flooding over with tears. When you grab hold of one thing, you ultimately have to let go of another. Our fingers have spaces between them, just like life, and things fall through. Part of my life was ending so a new part could begin. But first you have to let go. You have to open your fingers and let slip.

I walked down the hall and stood in the entryway for a couple of seconds. I was caught inside another still point, where my next step would change my entire course. I waited to feel a pull back to him. I waited for regret to settle in and make me turn around. But instead, I felt something closer to peace. I knew exactly what I wanted. It's who we are in the still points that defines us.

O
NE
W
EEK
L
ATER:

C
ORVALLIS,
O
REGON

 

My mom was arranging roses in a vase on the kitchen table. They were the first blooms from a real plant she'd bought a few days earlier. Her therapy was working outside. She had already torn up the entire backyard. She had tilled the ground. It was her way of starting over.

The breeze from the open window pushed the smell of roses through the room. My mom's cheeks were as pink as the petals. Her eyes were light.

“You look really good,” I told her, and sat down at the table.

“Being outside so much helps,” she said, and pulled up a seat next to me. “I hope you're not worried about me,” she said. “I want you to go up to Portland. You need to get settled, too.”

I nodded. “I know. I'll move up at the end of the summer,” I said. “Somebody needs to stick around and bug Joe.”

She smiled.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

She looked out the window. “I'll be okay, Maddie. I've accepted what happened. It still hurts, but life is supposed to hurt. Too many people think life is supposed to be easy and perfect all the time. But there is always some hurt. It's part of being alive. You have to accept it's a piece that every single person carries. It's what makes us human.”

I studied my mom. I'd always known she was smart and loyal and sentimental and loving. I'd never realized she was brave.

I looked out the window and I could feel her eyes on me.

“Have you talked to any of your friends?” she asked.

I shook my head. I hadn't even turned on a computer since I got home. We stayed away from news channels. I was afraid to hear what the media was saying about my father and the riot. I couldn't take any criticism right now.

“How's Justin?” Mom asked.

“Busy,” I said.

“You know, your father really liked Justin. We've always loved his family.”

I nodded. “I think I wanted Dad to accept Justin so badly because then I would know he accepted me,” I said.

“He always accepted you, Maddie. You're his daughter. It took a little more convincing for him to accept Justin. Your father just wanted the best for you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

 

I walked into the living room, where Joe was watching a movie.

“Hey, Kissing Bandit,” he said.

“What did you call me?” I asked, and sank into the couch next to him.

He paused the show.

“Why didn't you tell me you dumped Solvi? Congratulations, by the way. I always knew you were capable of making a smart decision. That guy never deserved you. But then you replace him in the same day? That's just cold.”