“I was looking for the water.”

“It’s in the fridge.” He pointed, then went there himself. He handed me a water and pulled out a few sodas.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he said, and then headed to the door.

“It’s an inside joke,” I blurted out, pretty sure he had at least heard the last part of my conversation.

He turned back around. “What?”

“I think all parties are lame. I’m kind of antisocial. So it was just a joke. Your party is fine.”

He nodded. “All parties are lame, but what am I supposed to do when people invite themselves over?” He leaned his shoulder against the wall, his eyes shining with a teasing smile.

“Hey.” I laughed. “Stephanie invited me. I promise.”

“Well, you did recently save my brother. . . .” His relaxed position became a little tense with the mention. Was it the thought of his brother falling that caused the change in his demeanor, or did he suspect my secret? It was hard to believe that someone without any knowledge of the Compound could come to any sort of real conclusion. But he had witnessed me move faster than any human should and then possibly overheard me asking Laila about Erasing memories.

My mind flashed to the man in the Tower with the scar across his cheek. Crap. Did Trevor overhearing my talk with Laila count as me telling someone? I looked around as if someone could be watching me, right now, in Trevor’s dimly lit garage. Was that even possible?

The way Trevor trailed off about me saving his brother made it seem like he expected me to finish his sentence, fill in the blank he wasn’t seeing. When I didn’t say anything, he opened the door. “The movie’s about to start.” And with those words, he walked inside.

I followed after him and looked around for Stephanie. She was squeezed in between two girls on the couch, laughing and talking. So much for feeling out of place. Rowan came up next to me, popping the tab on his soda and taking a long drink. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving yesterday?”

“Yes. Ate too much, slept a lot. The norm.” But really it wasn’t the norm. It was odd. My first holiday away from my mom. My dad acted weird and nervous and kept asking me if I wanted anything else. Maybe for the next little while I’d celebrate holidays away from both my parents. Twenty years or so should do it.

I probably sounded more bitter than I meant to, because Rowan said, “Well, if you want something out of the ordinary, you should let me show you around town.”

“Um . . . yeah, sure.”

“You want to sit down?”

“I think I’ll just stand for a while.”

He gave me a once-over, almost like the reason I didn’t want to sit with him would be written somewhere on my body. “Where did you say we met again?”

“At a football game. I go to Lincoln High.”

“Ohh. That’s right. Duke’s girlfriend.”

“No.” I said the word with some hostility, then sealed my lips to keep from adding more.

“Well, that’s good. I was going to say that I was surprised Trevor invited you here. He’s not a fan of Duke’s.”

“He’s not?”

“At the last football game he found out Duke and some of his lackeys have been playing dirty. Purposely injuring the competition. Trevor was one of the victims. Ruined his career.”

“Purposely?” How much did they know? Was it possible they knew about abilities? Was that why Trevor seemed so suspicious when he saw me save his brother?

“Cheating. Hitting after the whistle. Just dirty plays. And Trevor had a lot of respect for Duke, so when he found this out, it really bothered him.”

I took a relieved breath. Those were all things any Norm could do. “So he doesn’t like Duke.” Maybe the suspicion I’d sensed in Trevor was really just his feelings about Duke. Maybe seeing me reminded him of Duke.

“That’s an understatement. No worries, though, he’s a good Southern boy, so he’ll be polite to you.”

I started to respond that he had been nice to me when I realized what Rowan was saying—that it was an act. Was Trevor forcing himself to be kind to me? He probably really wished I hadn’t been invited to the party.

The television went blue and the movie started. With a wave, Rowan took his place back on the beanbag.

I settled into a chair along the back wall, crossed my arms, and tried to watch the movie. Every time Trevor laughed, a wave of frustration washed through me. He was going to judge me because of Duke? I finished my water and had an overwhelming desire to throw the empty bottle at the back of Trevor’s head. Why was I having such a strong reaction to him? I didn’t care what he thought of me. I resisted releasing the bottle in the air, by twisting it around and around in my hands. Soon, the paper around the bottle had turned to a shredded mess.

After the movie, Stephanie craned her head around. She pointed to the now empty cushion on the couch next to her like she wondered why I hadn’t sat there. I was new at this friend-making thing. I walked over and sat down.

“I wondered where you disappeared to,” she said.

“I sat back there.”

She introduced me to her friends, and then they picked up whatever conversation they had been having before I sat down . . . something about comics?

“Graphic novels are cool,” I said. When all three of them stopped and looked at me, I realized they must’ve been on the other side of that opinion, so I added, “What did you think of the movie?”

That did the trick, and they started talking again. A couple of empty soda cans sat on the coffee table in front of us, and I wondered if Stephanie would get the hint I was ready to leave if I started to clean.

I gathered some cans and then headed to the garage, where I saw a large recycle bin. When I came back in, Trevor and Stephanie were talking. I observed her body language for a minute, the way she leaned toward him, how she twirled a section of her dark hair around her finger and laughed too loudly at whatever he said. She was not over him. But it was more than obvious he was over her. He looked at anything but her, his arms were crossed over his chest, and for every small step she took toward him, he took a step back. If they talked for too long, he would eventually back into the wall. Despite his body language, though, he was doing exactly what Rowan had claimed he did—being friendly by smiling and nodding at whatever she was saying. Poor Stephanie. It sucked to be in a one-sided relationship.

“Addison!” I turned at my name and saw Brody barreling toward me. I was surprised when he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Hey. I didn’t know you lived here,” I said, teasing him.

“Yeah, Trevor’s my brother, remember?”

“Oh yeah. How could I forget? How’s the drawing going?”

He took hold of my hand and pulled me toward the hall. “Come see. I drew the Millennium Falcon. It’s so cool.”

“Okay, slow down, we wouldn’t want you falling down any stairs.”

He gave a little giggle. “You were fast that day. Really fast. Trevor says you were at the top. How did you do it?”

“No, he just doesn’t remember. I was already walking down.”

“That’s what my dad said, but then Trevor said, ‘Dad, she’s beautiful. I remember where she was standing.’”

My cheeks heated up with the compliment at the same time that my stomach clenched at the implication. Not only did Trevor suspect something, but he was telling people. Great.

“You have a good little memory, don’t you?” I wondered how good. Did he remember time slowing down? When I had touched him, he came into the moment with me while the world around us continued to swim. Was it possible he couldn’t see what I saw?

“Yup,” he said innocently, and led me down the hall.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“Trevor’s room.”

I stopped and jerked him to a halt with my abrupt movement. “Can you just bring your drawings out here? I probably shouldn’t go into your brother’s room.”

“Okay, wait here.”

“Waiting.” The hall was filled with family pictures taken over Trevor’s and Brody’s lifetimes. Not just formal ones, of them stiffly posing for a camera in a studio, but candid ones as well. Camping, boating, barbecuing. A lifetime of memories. Could those memories be gone in the blink of an eye if the Compound found out that Trevor might be onto something? Surely Scar-Face didn’t mean a complete memory wipe. He just meant the memories about the Compound, about abilities. Didn’t he? I wasn’t ready for my memories to be wiped either from one little slipup. Trevor needed to believe I was completely Normal. How could I convince him of that?

CHAPTER 10

Laila: What’s that lame saying about a pen and a sword? It might be true.

The difference between Duke and other Mood Controllers was that Connor wouldn’t be anticipating Duke’s ability. And if, like the rest of the school, Connor still thought Duke was Telekinetic, then maybe it could work to our advantage. It was the first time in the last two weeks I was glad I hadn’t announced to the whole school what Duke was, like I had wanted to.

“What’s Connor’s ability?” I asked Duke as we drove to his house.

“I’m not sure. He was in a lot of Bobby’s classes, so maybe he can manipulate mass.”

The way he said Bobby’s name so casually made me flinch a little. As if Bobby was still just his neighbor and best friend, not a convicted murderer. I cleared my throat and shook off the feeling. “I thought you knew everyone’s ability. Addie said you printed off some roster from the school computers.”

“Yeah, but I was only interested in certain abilities. I didn’t pay attention to the others.”

He was only interested in the abilities that would get him what he wanted—a look at his future. I tried to hold back the growl rising up my throat. “When you get home, look it up for me.”

“I would, but I destroyed that list.”

“Then get another one printed off.”

“One, it’s not as easy as you make it sound. And two, you’d have to fill me in on some more details in order for me to become that invested. Last time I schemed, it kind of blew up in my face. I’m sure you remember.”

He parked in front of Connor’s house and shut off the engine.

How could I forget, seeing as how I was one of the pawns in his scheme? My phone chimed, and I read the screen. It was from Eli: Think of something. I smiled. I had told him last night that if he asked me that one more time I was going to think of his death in vivid detail. I texted back: Ha-ha. You wish you could read my mind from five miles away. As much as the thought of him reading my mind at all bothered me, I really wished he would at least pick up on something here or there.

I looked over at Duke. “When did you Present?”

“I was twelve. Worst day of my dad’s life. He wanted a Telekinetic son. He got me.”

I wasn’t exactly the type that people opened up to, so I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “Whining makes you less attractive. Don’t do it anymore.”