screwed: adj. having to choose a bad path to avoid a worse one My eyes pop open, and I suck in a huge mouthful of air.
“What did you see?” Laila asks.
Her voice startles me and, as if on a springboard, I launch myself to a sitting position. It takes me a moment to realize everything I just saw wasn’t real even though my heart feels like it’s been ripped in half.
“You look horrible,” she says. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” I push my fingers against my temples as if that action will squeeze out a solution. There has to be a solution.
My dad.
I jump out of bed and run to the door. Just as I’m about to open it, I stop. Think this through first, Addie. If I tell my dad about Bobby and Poison that will solve both problems, won’t it? No. What if telling my dad about Bobby delays his leaving the Compound so he can investigate? I know the Bureau can’t use my Search as evidence. First I’m underage, and second my ability is considered subjective. Too many variables. So, what if my dad can’t bring Bobby in for questioning? What if that sets off a completely different series of events with Bobby still free? If I could save the murdered girls referred to in the interviews, I would march out there right now. But they’re already gone. The first crime happened the second week in September and the other months ago.
I sigh.
“You’re scaring me,” Laila says. I had almost forgotten she was here. I turn to face her. What if I just tell her? Surely she’ll stay away from Bobby. I roll my eyes. The knowledge will probably send Laila straight to his house with a knife and an attitude. And even if she does stay away, what if Bobby goes after a different girl instead? Crap. I have to live out my sucky future with Duke.
“I don’t want to do this.”
I throw back my head and groan. I know she has to Erase the life with my mom. If she doesn’t, there is no way I could even stand to look at Duke, let alone allow him into my life so that the future plays out exactly like I saw it. Even the slightest variation can result in dire consequences. Laila got into serious trouble in both versions of the future. A completely different path, like choosing neither of my parents, or marching out and telling my dad everything, will only lead to a different variation of trouble. At least this way I know Laila will be fine.
I lean my back against the wall as the next logical thoughts come into my mind. If she only Erases Duke, the knowledge of Laila’s death will paralyze me, terrify me. And there’s no way I’d fall for Duke with Trevor on my mind.
She has to Erase Trevor too. I want to scream.
“Do you need to go further, or do you know which future you want?”
I feel numb. “Yes, I know.”
“It was that apparent, huh?” She looks down at the bed and then back up at me. “Are you staying?”
“Yes.”
A huge smile breaks out on her face, and she jumps up and flings her arms around me. “I’m so happy. I knew you couldn’t live without me.”
I want to hug her back. I want to tell her never to look at or talk to Bobby or Duke. But I don’t. “You’re right, I can’t.”
She pushes me out by my shoulders. “Okay, so do you want me to Erase your memories now or—”
“No. Not now,” I interrupt, the suggestion making my heart pick up speed. I take several deep breaths. I don’t want to forget Trevor yet.
Over Laila’s right shoulder, painted on my wall, are the words “… we had everything before us, we had nothing before us …” I remember when I first read those words from A Tale of Two Cities. They spoke to me. They speak to me again now.
“I just need a few minutes alone.” I walk toward my closet.
“Wait, you’re going to shut yourself in the closet? I can leave.”
“No, I need you here. Please don’t go.” If she doesn’t do it soon, I’m sure I’ll talk myself out of it.
“Okay, I won’t.”
I open the door and shut it behind me. Beneath the hanging shirts and between two shoe racks, I sit down. Tears stream down my face. I feel like my life is over. I try to concentrate on my breathing, in and out. Over and over. Every once in a while it catches as an image of Trevor breaks through my concentration.
In. Out.
And then it hits me, like an alarm wailing in my ears. A car alarm, to be exact. Laila. She restored that car’s “memory.” That may have been in the other future, the future I wasn’t going to let play out, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t learn how to do it in this future … later. After everything happens. I wipe my tears and rush out the door. In my desk I grab a notebook and pen and run back into the closet.
On the paper, I write: I promised someone I care about very much that I wouldn’t Erase this path, but I have to. On Friday morning, the fourteenth of November, however, after certain events occur, talk to Laila about advanced ability control. Tell her she can learn how to restore memories. This is the only way I know how to keep my promise to you.…
I have to keep it vague enough so that if I stumble upon this note, it doesn’t give me any clues. I place the notebook and pen on the floor. My stomach aches, and I wrap my arms around it and let more tears fall for a few minutes. It makes me sick to know I’m about to let my heart get broken by one boy and Erase another boy who cares about me … or would care about me. Now he won’t know me. Even after a memory restoration, if Laila can actually learn how to do it, I will still be a stranger to him.
I have to believe that she can learn how. It is the only thought keeping me sane. I wipe at my tears and rip the page out of my notebook. “Be strong,” I tell myself. Laila can’t know any of this. She will Erase my memory, but I need her to be clueless as well for everything to play out exactly the same.
Squaring my shoulders, I step back into my room. In my desk I find an envelope and seal the letter to myself inside. “I need you to give this to me on Friday, November fourteenth, okay?”
“Why are you being so cryptic? What happens?”
“Laila, promise me you will give this to me on the fourteenth and won’t open it before then.” I write the date on the outside of the envelope. “Promise? I’m trusting you with this.”
She widens her eyes like she thinks I’m overreacting. “All right. I promise.”
“Okay, put it in your purse then, so I won’t see it after you Erase my memory.”
“Okay.” She tucks it away.
I sit cross-legged on the bed in front of her. “I’m ready. I need you to Erase both paths.”
“What? Why both?”
“Please, Laila, don’t ask.” I’m on the verge of tears again.
She bites her bottom lip and then shakes out her hands. “Okay.”
“Why do you look so nervous? Don’t you Erase my memories all the time?”
“No. This will be the first.”
“Are you serious?”
She nods, and I throw a pillow at her head. “You’d better be good then.”
“I am.”
She takes a deep breath, brings up her hands to rest on my head, and closes her eyes.
I close mine as well.