“Nope.” I sat in one of the big chairs behind tons of knobs and buttons. “But there’s no time like the present.” The only problem was, Connor was no help. I couldn’t Erase his memories and then try to bring them back. I looked around, then dug my phone out of my pocket.
I rested it on top of two knobs. “Addie’s house.” Immediately the directions to Addie’s house appeared, a red line showing the way. I lifted my hands and concentrated. A computer was different from a brain, but I could still feel the most active components. I shut them off and opened my eyes. The directions were gone. Awesome.
Connor sat down on the other seat. “You can Erase a computer’s memory.” He said it with such a flat voice I wasn’t sure whether he was impressed.
Now for the hard part. I tried to concentrate, force my mind to send out its power. A buzz started in my head, and I thought about how Addie was worried about me trying this. How she thought her ability had been damaged by pushing too hard. I shook off the thought. Other people advanced their ability all the time; it couldn’t be that bad. But nothing was happening. I gritted my teeth and tried again.
“You’re trying to restore its memory by advancing your ability?”
“Yes.”
“And you need some strong emotion?”
I paused. Strong emotion? I didn’t let the gasp that wanted to come out escape with the revelation, with the memory of just minutes before when I’d felt an energy building around me. That was usable? So Connor knew more about advancing abilities than he let on. “Yes.”
“You must be off the DAA program then. If you’ve been using that, it’s not going to work.”
A lot more. “I am.” I swallowed hard. “Can you just . . .”
“Can I just what?” He turned toward me, his eyes meeting mine. They were electrified, like a lightning storm raged behind them. I needed to feel that energy. I swiveled my seat toward him, rested my hand on my knee and turned it palm up. That was as much risk as I could take. Now it was his turn.
CHAPTER 21
Addie: Need to purchase some protective face gear.
“Trevor, wait!” I called down the stairs. He was at least a floor below me. I could hear his footsteps but couldn’t see him when I leaned over the rail. “Wait!”
The footsteps stopped, and I walked down the remaining space between us.
“Your grandfather’s kind of different, yeah?”
“That’s a nice word for it.”
He smiled. “What was the thing that looked a lot like a toaster sitting on the coffee table?”
Possibly the reason he’s been able to stay hidden all these years. “I think it was a modified toaster. Maybe he receives transmissions from Mars on it. I don’t know.”
“Maybe it tells him the future.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“So . . .” He started walking again. “You came after me why?”
“You think there’s another way out of this building? Besides the lobby?”
“I’m sure there’s a back exit. I think there’s a parking lot back there.”
“So we have a choice?”
“My car’s parked out front, so that makes my choice easy.”
“Can you just . . .” I grabbed his arm and he stopped. “Can we just sit for one minute?” One minute should be enough to do a quick Search. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”
“Sure.” He helped me sit on a step and then leaned against the wall. “It seemed like you hadn’t seen your grandfather in a long time.”
This wasn’t going to work if he tried to talk to me. “Yeah, I hadn’t. I didn’t realize he lived here. I’ve been learning a lot of interesting things lately.”
A discarded kid’s tennis shoe sat on the step by Trevor’s foot. He nudged it a few times with the toe of his shoe, flipping it, then flipping it again. I wondered how many times some mom had searched her apartment over for something that wasn’t there. For a shoe that was sitting here in the stairwell. She might never find it, because she obviously had no memory of it falling here.
I put my forehead on my knees so it wouldn’t look suspicious when I went catatonic for a minute during my Search. I braced myself for the headache that would follow, wondering if I should even be using my ability right now when I was worried about the lasting effects of these headaches. Of what caused them to begin with.
“Addison,” he said, stopping my Search before it started.
I looked up and barely saw the flash of an object as it hit my face. “Ouch.” The kid’s shoe landed on the step below me with a thump, then rolled down a few more. “Did you just throw a shoe at me?”
“I’m so sorry.” He rushed forward and sat on the step below me. “I thought you would move fast and catch it.”
I rubbed my cheek, trying to hide a smile. He was relentless. And funny. Why did he have to be so easy to be around?
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” One of his hands went to my elbow while he inspected my cheek. He cringed. “There’s a red mark.” He retrieved the shoe, then held it out for me. “You have my permission to throw this at my face as hard as you can.”
I laughed. “I’m not going to hit you in the face with a shoe.”
“It would make me feel like less of a jerk.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t even hurt.”
He tossed the shoe aside, then ran his fingers lightly over my cheek, which, despite what I’d said, actually stung a little. He studied the new mark intently. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I don’t do this. I don’t follow people. And I don’t throw things at girls.”
“What do you do?”
“I . . .” He stopped, and I could tell I’d caught him off guard with the question.
“Tell me more about your comic. What’s it about?”
“My attempt at a comic.”
My eyes went to his hands, where I could see a callus along the inside of his middle finger along with lead smudges. I meant to just point at his finger, but instead my hand brushed along the smudge. “You don’t earn a callus like that from just attempting.”
He put his hands palms up and inspected them. “I’ve been trying to throw with my left hand.”
My hand that grabbed a piece of my hair has frozen, and the hair slips slowly through my fingers, my hand now hovering in the air, empty. As if it has a mind of its own, it presses itself right over his heart, each fast beat now crashing against my palm. He leans closer and his breath washes over me, my eyes closing. He hesitates for a second too long, and I quickly drop my hand and back into the open car door, out of breath. He stares down at me for a moment and then shuts the door.
The memories of the first option flowed together with the memories of the second.
“Are you okay? Does your face hurt?” Trevor asks.
“No. I’m fine.” I lift my head, meeting his eyes. They are full of concern.
“Are you sure?”