“Not bad at all,” I agree. “Now what about these lights? Are they ever going to turn off?”
“They will. Probably after a good night’s sleep, when your mind forgets they’re on,” he says. “But you’ll have to be careful not to get worked up for a while. An emotional imbalance will cause them to come right back on again, if you get overly nervous, or angry, or sad.”
“For how long?”
“Until you learn to control them.” He closes his eyes and rubs his face with his hands. “Anyway, I’m going to try to sleep again. We’ll talk about your training in a few hours.”
After he leaves I stay at the kitchen table, opening and closing my hands, taking deep breaths and trying to calm everything inside of me so the lights will dim. Of course it doesn’t work.
Everything in the house is still a mess aside from the few things Henri did while I was at school. I can tell that he is leaning towards leaving, but not to the point that he couldn’t be persuaded to stay. Maybe if he wakes and finds the house clean and in order it’ll tip him in the right direction.
I start with my room. I dust, wash the windows, sweep the floor. When everything is clean I throw sheets, pillows, and blankets on the bed, then hang and fold my clothes. The dresser is old and rickety, but I fill it and then place the few books I own on top of it. And just like that, a clean room, everything I own put away and in order.
I move to the kitchen, putting away dishes and wiping down the counters. It gives me something to do and takes my mind off of my hands, even though while cleaning I think about Mark James. For the first time in my life I stood up to somebody. I’ve always wanted to but never did because I wanted to heed Henri’s advice to keep a low profile. I’ve always tried to delay another move for as long as I could. But today was different. There was something very satisfying about being pushed by somebody and responding by pushing back. And then there’s the issue of my phone, which was stolen. Sure, we could easily get a new one, but where is the justice in that?
CHAPTER SEVEN
I WAKE BEFORE THE ALARM. THE HOUSE IS COOL and silent. I lift my hands from under the covers. They are normal, no lights, no glow. I lumber out of bed and into the living room. Henri is at the kitchen table reading the local paper and drinking coffee.
“Good morning,” he says. “How do you feel?”
“Like a million bucks,” I say.
I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit across from him.
“What are you going to do today?” I ask.
“Errands mostly. We’re getting low on money. I’m thinking of putting in a transfer at the bank.”
Lorien is (or was, depending on how you look at it) a planet rich with natural resources. Some of those resources were precious gems and metals. When we left, each Cepan was given a sack full of diamonds, emeralds and rubies to sell when we arrived on Earth. Henri did, and then deposited the money into an overseas bank account. I don’t know how much there is and I never ask. But I know it’s enough to last us ten lifetimes, if not more. Henri makes withdrawals from it once a year, give or take.
“I don’t know, though,” he continues. “I don’t want to stray too far in case something else happens today.”
Not wanting to make a big deal of yesterday, I wave the notion away. “I’ll be fine. Go get paid.”
I look out the window. Dawn is breaking, casting a pale light over everything. The truck is covered with dew. It’s been a while since we’ve been through a winter. I don’t even own a jacket and have outgrown most of my sweaters.
“It looks cold out,” I say. “Maybe we can go clothes shopping soon.”
He nods. “I was thinking about that last night, which is why I need to go to the bank.”
“Then go,” I say. “Nothing is going to happen today.”
I finish the bowl of cereal, drop the dirty dish into the sink, and jump into the shower. Ten minutes later I’m dressed in a pair of jeans and a black thermal shirt, the sleeves pulled to my elbows. I look in the mirror, and down at my hands. I feel calm. I need to stay that way.
On the way to school Henri hands me a pair of gloves.
“Make sure you keep these with you at all times. You never know.”
I tuck them into my back pocket.
“I shouldn’t need them. I feel pretty good.”
At the school, buses are lined up in front. Henri pulls up to the side of the building.
“I don’t like you not having a phone,” he says. “Any number of things could go wrong.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have it back soon.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be right here at the end of the day.”
“I won’t,” I say, and get out of the truck. He pulls away.
Inside, the halls are bustling with activity, students loitering at lockers, talking, laughing. A few look at me and whisper. I don’t know whether it’s because of the confrontation or because of the darkroom. It’s likely that they are whispering about both. It is a small school, and in small schools there is little that isn’t readily known by everyone else.
When I reach the main entrance, I turn right and find my locker. It’s empty. I have fifteen minutes before sophomore composition begins. I walk by the classroom just to make sure I know where it is and then head to the office. The secretary smiles when I enter.
“Hi,” I say. “I lost my phone yesterday and I was wondering if anyone turned it in to lost and found?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid no phone’s been turned in.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Out in the hallway I don’t see Mark anywhere. I pick a direction and begin walking. People still stare and whisper, but that doesn’t bother me. I see him fifty feet ahead of me. All at once the thrill of adrenaline kicks in. I look down at my hands. They’re normal. I’m worried about them turning on, and that worry might just be the thing that does it.
Mark’s leaning against a locker with his arms crossed, in the middle of a group, five guys and two girls, all of them talking and laughing. Sarah is sitting on a windowsill about fifteen feet away. She looks radiant again today with her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing a skirt and a gray sweater. She’s reading a book, but looks up as I walk towards them.
I stop just outside of the group, stare at Mark, and wait. He notices me after about five seconds.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“You know what I want.”
Our eyes stay locked. The crowd around us swells to ten people, then twenty. Sarah stands and walks to the edge of the crowd. Mark is wearing his letterman jacket, and his black hair is carefully styled to look like he rolled straight out of bed and into his clothes.
He pushes away from the locker and walks towards me. When he is inches away he stops. Our chests nearly touch and the spicy scent of his cologne fills my nostrils. He is probably six one, a couple inches taller than I am. We have the same build. Little does he know that what is inside of me is not what is inside of him. I am quicker than he is and far stronger. The thought brings a confident grin to my face.
“You think you can stay in school a little longer today? Or are you going to run off again like a little bitch?”
Snickers spread through the crowd.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess we will,” he says, and moves even closer.
“I want my phone back,” I say.
“I don’t have your phone.”
I shake my head at him. “There are two people who saw you take it,” I lie.
By the way his brows crinkle I know I have guessed correctly.
“Yeah, and what if it was me? What are you going to do?”
