Glimpse (The Tesla Effect Book 1) (5 page)

“That’s weird about the pictures, for sure, but I gotta go. Glad to see you’re okay after the other night—no adverse effects from all the excitement.
I’ll call you later.”

Confused, Tesla watched Keisha weave her way toward the door. The crowd parted suddenly in one of those random movements that seem orchestrated and Tesla found herself with a brief, clear view of the front window of the pizzeria and the barstools that stood at the counter and overlooked the town square.
The stool on the far left, just like the others, was occupied, but unlike the others, its occupant faced inward toward the restaurant rather than toward the window.

It was Finnegan Ford.
He stared right at Tesla as Keisha walked by him, lightly bumped his fist with her own, and walked out the door.

CHAPTER
5

Tesla got up from the table and headed straight for Finn. “Why are you here?” she demanded.

Finn raised an eyebrow.
“Dinner. You?” His slight smile mocked her.

“Yeah, I’m here eating, and so’s Malcolm,” Tesla replied.
She scowled at Finn and hooked her thumb back at Malcolm, who sat right where she’d left him. Mal grinned sheepishly and waved at Finn, who ignored him.

“Are you following me?”
Tesla asked.

Finn put his pizza down on the paper plate, wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin and—finally—looked at Tesla in amusement. His brown curls sprang out in every direction, his eyes, golden-bronze, were hard and bright and clearly amused.
“I’m sure you do it for the high school boys, but—seriously. Get over yourself.”

Tesla could feel the blood suffuse her face and she silently cursed him for his ridiculously good looks, his overblown confidence.
She felt like the village idiot by comparison.
Focus
, she thought.
Something’s not right here.

“I didn’t mean—I saw Keisha—oh, forget it.”
Tesla turned on her heel to go back to her table, a big incoherent ball of humiliation and anger. She mumbled under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like
d-bag
.

She heard Finn laugh behind her as she stomped over to her chair and sat down opposite Malcolm, who looked confused.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he drained the last of his soda.

“I don’t know.”
She pushed her plate away in irritation.

“What’d Finn have to say?” he persisted.

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing except that I’m not his type, and that I should ‘get over myself’ for thinking he was following me.” She fumed and waited for Mal to jump in on her side.

“You think he’s following you?” asked Malcolm.

“No, Mal.” Tesla picked up her plastic fork and stabbed the crust on her plate for emphasis. “I
asked
him if he was following me. A question is not a statement. Totally different things.”

“You can’t be serious,” Malcolm said.
“Why would he be following you?”

“I don’t know,” Tesla wailed.
She leaned forward, her eyes lowered miserably to the tabletop so that all Malcolm could see was the thick, dark fringe of her eyelashes against her skin, still warmly pink from embarrassment. “Keisha breezed in and right back out, and she was so distracted, and then she walked past Finn like she didn’t see him, but I know she did, and…what about that party the other night?” Tesla stared at him, dared him to contradict her. “There was something off. And there’s something off about Finn. I know it.”

“Well, he’s gone now, so forget about it,” Malcolm assured her.

“He is?” Tesla craned her neck to see through the crowd.

“Yeah, he left before you even got back to your chair.
You seem disappointed,” he added, his voice carefully noncommittal.

“No, I’m relieved.
I think he’s a jerk,” Tesla stated emphatically.

They sat for a few more minutes, until Tesla sighed.
“I better head back home,” she said. “I didn’t tell anyone I was headed out.”

“Do you usually?” asked Malcolm, flicking his silvery bangs out of his eyes.

“I usually text my dad. If he wonders, he can just check his phone. Saves us both from an actual conversation.”

“Text him, then.
Tell him you’re with me.”

“No, I’m gonna go.
I guess I still feel bad about the fight earlier.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you.” When they got outside he turned to head back to his house, which lay in the opposite direction of Tesla’s.

“See you,” Tesla called after him.

She had only gone seventeen steps, however, had just passed the front of Angelo’s and the red brick of the bookstore next door, when she heard a voice from the shadows under the store’s awning.

“Tesla,” said Finn as he stepped into the light. “Over here.”

“What do you want?” she asked, startled.

“Just wanted to say sorry for my ‘d-bag’ behavior.” It was an apology, technically, but he was clearly laughing at her. “You surprised me, that’s all,” he continued. “I’m usually not that rude.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Tesla increased her speed and walked past him.

Finn was beside her in an instant and his long legs kept her pace effortlessly. He wore fitted, skinny black jeans, a worn pair of Adidas Sambas, and a black T-shirt. His arms swung easily by his side, and Tesla wondered if he ever felt even slightly self-conscious, under any circumstances. His cool confidence was
not
attractive, she told herself, it was an irritation—almost as much of an irritation as her own hyper-awareness of the mere eight and a half inches that separated them.

“I wasn’t following you, but I was glad to see you at Angelo’s.
I’ve been worried about you since the other night,” he said. “Those guys must’ve shaken you up. And—for the record—I asked Keisha to check on you just now.”

Tesla hesitated, though she was relieved to learn her suspicions of Keisha were unfounded.
She’d already learned not to be candid with Finn or he’d turn it against her, make her feel like a fool.

“Yeah,” she shrugged.
“I’m fine. Nothing happened, really.”

Finn glanced at her as they walked.
“Good,” he said. “I thought you might not be, ah, up to that kind of excitement.”

Tesla stopped and turned on him, her eyes narrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Finn raised his hands, his palms up in surrender as he tried to back-pedal.
“Nothing—man! I wasn’t insulting you, or making fun of you—not this time, anyway—it’s just that I noticed that Keisha and that other kid—”

“—Malcolm,” Tesla inserted.

“—and Malcolm,” Finn continued smoothly, “seemed concerned about you, and you looked kind of shaky and pale.”

“I’m always pale,” said Tesla.

“No, you’re always fair-skinned,” he countered. “But your cheeks are kind of pinkish, right there.” He made as if to touch her face, and Tesla snapped her head back two inches, just out of his reach. “The other night you were pale,” he explained, but he dropped his hand back down to his side. “There’s a difference.”

Tesla could feel herself blush and began walking again,
looking straight ahead and hoping the dusk in between the now-lit lampposts along the sidewalk hid this fact from Finn, who stayed right beside her.

“Maybe I just seemed that way compared to you and Keisha,” she mumbled.

“Well, obviously,” he said. “The black girl and her biracial cousin make you seem even lighter. But that’s not the point.”

When she didn’t reply, Finn changed the subject.
“So, what’s your story? There is a story, right?”

They had stopped again, beside a wrought iron and wood-slat bench on the edge of the park in the center of town.
The bench was nestled cozily between blooming hydrangeas, the deep purple-blue bunches of flowers like party balloons in the summer night. Two lampposts, twenty feet away on either side of the bench, cast a soft light that didn’t quite reach them.

Finn gestured toward the bench, and after a brief hesitation, Tesla sat down and Finn joined her, his arm along the back of the bench, his fingers three inches from Tesla’s right shoulder.

“Yeah, there’s a story, but it’s not that interesting,” she began hesitantly.

“I’ll find it interesting,” he said, his voice serious for the first time.

Tesla thought for a minute. She could feel the pulse in her throat and Finn’s eyes on her face as he waited. “Long story short, I have an arrhythmia—an irregular, too-fast heartbeat. I found out in October. I couldn’t play basketball for a while, which I used to do a lot—with your cousin—but nothing has happened since, so I’m allowed to do the stuff I did before. Or at least work back up to it.” She hated to seem fragile or weak. “It’s no big deal.”

“But you have to be careful, right?
Because it
could
be a big deal.” When she looked at him with suspicion, he hurried on. “Keisha told me a little about it, last fall when it happened.”

Tesla searched his face, but could see no sign of ridicule.
All she saw were warm, sympathetic brown eyes focused intently on her own. The slight flick of his gaze moved from one side of her face to the other. Searching.

“Yup, that’s me,” she said lightly.
“I need to ask the wizard for a heart.”

Finn was quiet for a moment.
“And your mom died, right?”

“How do you know that?” she asked slowly.

“Keisha.”

“Why would Keisha talk to you about me?” she demanded, her body tensed in preparation to leave.

“Whoa, whoa,” said Finn, hand out to stall her. “She doesn’t, at least not any more than she mentions stuff about anybody. It’s not gossip, you’re her best friend. And I’m pretty sure she only told me that about you because it’s something we have in common.”

“Your mom died, too?” Tesla asked as surprise trumped anger.

“No, not exactly. My dad—he’s not dead, at least as far as I know, but he’s never been a part of my life. And my mom works internationally, so I’ve spent a lot of time alone. I know what it’s like to not have your parents around.”

“Oh.”
For the life of her, Tesla couldn’t think of a single thing to add.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the freedom,” he said, that faint swagger back in his voice. “No bedtime when I was a kid, and no curfew later when I got older.
Totally worth it.”

He seemed to be bragging, but Tesla didn’t buy it.

“Sounds lonely,” she said. “So where are they—your parents?”

“My mom’s in Kenya, I think.
She works for the World Health Organization. And Daniel Finnegan—the sperm donor, basically—lives in Ireland. Dublin,” he added with a shrug.

“So that’s where—”

“Yeah,” he said, but his sudden smile held neither warmth nor humor. “That’s where my name comes from. Finnegan’s not exactly a typical name in the black community. He and my mother met twenty years ago somewhere, were together for a couple of weeks, and the rest is history. She saddled me with his name—evidence that she has a sense of humor, if nothing else—and then took off to save the world as soon as I was old enough to go to school. I know, I know, it’s heartwarming—you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Beneath the sharp quips Tesla sensed a depth of sadness in him that she could not even begin to address, and hastened to bring the story back onto solid ground.
“So your mom and Keisha’s mom are—”

“—sisters,” he finished for her, and then they fell silent for a moment. “They both went into medicine.
Keisha’s mom’s a surgical nurse, as you know, and my mom’s a doctor. Infectious diseases. She works mostly in Africa. I went to school all over the place, but I did most of secondary school—high school—in London. That’s where I met Joley. He decided to come here for undergrad and law school, and I tagged along. He’s family, for me. And Keisha’s here, so I figured, why not?”

Tesla weighed his words and heard the things he didn’t say—that he didn’t want to drift anymore, maybe even that he wanted to belong to someone.

“That’s pretty much my whole story,” he concluded lightly, in control of the moment again so quickly that Tesla wondered if she’d imagined his vulnerability. “How about you—what’s with your name?”

“What do you mean?” Tesla asked, confused.

“I mean, what is ‘Tesla’—does it mean something?”

“Kind of,” she said.
“My mom was Russian, and her father was a physicist in St. Petersburg—it was Leningrad, then. She grew up with stories of European scientists like most people grow up with stories about their crazy Aunt Alice. She always liked Nikola Tesla, a Serbian guy, I think, who did a bunch of groundbreaking work with electromagnetism.”

“Really,” said Finn, a puzzled look on his face.
“Most people get named after a grandparent or a movie star.”

Tesla smiled, and her dimples dug deep into her smooth cheeks.
“I know. Not us, though. I was named Tesla Nikola Petrova Abbott. By the end of his career, Nikola Tesla was pretty much insane, so you can imagine how thrilled I am to be named after him. My mom used to sit with me on her lap and tell me that Tesla successfully took a picture of the bones of his hand before the X-ray was invented. And that he destroyed his own skin from exposure to various kinds of radiation. Gross, huh? My little brother Max’s full name is Maximilian Planck Petrova Abbott.” She shrugged, anticipating Finn’s laughter. “They are—were—a little odd, my parents.”

“Planck, the quantum mechanics guy?” Finn asked, no trace of laughter in his voice.