Mindspeak (29 page)

It barely looked like her, but I
knew the love I felt when I drew it.

I pushed the back button. My dad
had apparently added pictures since I last visited. Some I didn’t remember
sending him. I looked at the last icon. My current work-in-process.

That’s strange? How did he get a
hold of that?

Almost instantly, Jack responded.
What’s
strange? Where are you?

Get out of my head Jack!
I
closed him off.

I had to learn better control and
become more aware of someone slipping into my subconscious. It frightened me to
know there were others like Jack and me, and even someone like me who might
want to hurt me. Briana might not know her mind was altered, but what about
someone else?

The lab worker on the other side of
the room giggled as she texted away on her phone.

Wouldn’t it be easier to run? Maybe
Jack was right.

I gave my head a shake. I couldn’t
think about that right now.

What was Coach… Detective Williams
doing on this website? He’d been watching over me? Did anything in my life make
sense anymore?

In addition to the portfolio of my
artwork, there was a separate page detailing my swim times. The entire site amounted
to an online scrapbook of my activities and hobbies. Evidence of a father’s
love for a daughter he never saw, maybe.

My stomach twisted and churned. I
missed Dad so much. Despite all the secrets.

I clicked on “home” one last time.
There were no pictures of me, no personal information. “Why were you so
interested in my amateur artwork, Coach?” Maybe he was just clicking through to
the swim times. That could be it. Maybe he actually entered the times for Dad.
That made sense, too.

Who was I kidding? Nothing made
sense.

My pointer hovered over the “x” in
the upper right hand corner.

Then, I noticed it. In the sidebar,
at the bottom of the screen. A tiny starfish. I ran the pointer over it. There
didn’t appear to be a link attached to the small icon.

“That’s strange,” I whispered. Then
I remembered some of the computer security tricks Dad taught me over Christmas
break one year. I thought of one in particular. Maybe there was a link hidden
below this picture after all. I just needed to know the string of key strokes
to push before the link would appear.

I stared at the screen for what
seemed like hours, not knowing where to begin. I tried “Shift.” I tried “Ctrl.”
I tried “Shift + Ctrl.” Nothing.

Since I had missed one class
already, it made more sense for me to get to class and think about this later.

~~~~

I entered Advanced Biology II out
of breath just as the bell chimed.

The only seat open was directly in
front of Jack. After a heavy sigh, I slid into the seat without making eye
contact and concentrated hard to shield him from my overactive thoughts and
imagination.

I’m sorry.
Just those two
words from him made my stomach clench.

Mrs. McMillan scribbled the words “Animal
Reproduction” on the chalkboard. Snickers erupted around the room.

It’s just…
I can’t
protect you when you shut me out like that. What if something had happened to
you away from campus? I would have been helpless. You could have been…

I closed my eyes. I could hear the
vulnerability in his voice, but he had overstepped.
Who said I need or want
you to protect me?

His fingers grazed the back of my
neck. I would never keep up this ironclad shield with him touching me like
that. He leaned close, his mouth next to my ear. “It’s me who needs to protect
you.”

Seth said you’ve been watching
me for the past year.

Did he now?
Jack pulled his
fingers away and I could hear him sit back hard against his chair.

Yes, and I know you’re not a
stalker, so what—

“Miss Matthews,” Mrs. McMillan said
over my thoughts.

Shit
. I had no idea what she
asked.

Parthenogenesis,
Jack said
to my mind.

Seriously?
I asked.

Yes, just say it.
Parthenogenesis
.

“Parthenogenesis?” I answered in
more of a question. Okay, maybe this mind thing was handy. I’d thank Jack later
when I wasn’t so mad at him.

The hour passed, and thankfully,
Mrs. McMillan didn’t call on me again because I probably would have been
distracted then, too. Jack had grown silent.

The bell chimed. I stuffed my
notebook inside my bag, and before I could even zip it, Jack grabbed it from
me, zipped it, and reached down and wrapped his hand around mine.

He pulled me into the hallway. He
was silent as we walked toward our next class.

“Lexi. Jack.” I heard our names
over the bustle of students behind us. Danielle rushed toward us waving
something over her head.

“Have you seen it?” she asked when
she reached us, beaming.

“Seen what?” I glanced nervously at
Jack.

“The glossies for the art show this
weekend?”

Uh-oh
. I had totally
forgotten.

“What art show?” Jack asked. He
took the brochure she offered. “Wellington Boarding School presents its sixth
annual Fall Art Gala, featuring the work of Danielle Gray, Barkley Sanders, and
Lexi Matthews.” He handed the brochure back to Danielle, his eyes never leaving
mine. A slow grin twitched at the corners of his lips.

“You didn’t tell him?” Danielle
asked.

“No, actually, it hadn’t come up.”

“There’s a dance after. I wonder if
Barkley has a date yet.” She wiggled her brows at me and I couldn’t help but
laugh.

Just like that, Dani flitted off
back where she came from.

“Hey. Can you take me to see Gram
today?”

“We don’t have permission to leave
campus. My father gets back into town today, and he’s pretty pissed about the
accident last week.”

I drilled the heel of my palm into
my forehead. “I’m so tired of being controlled. I want to go see my grandmother,”
I said. “Either you take me or I will find another way.”

He yanked me closer. I started to
resist, but decided that would not help my cause. “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to
Father tonight and see what I can do.”
Just don’t shut me out, okay?

I make no promises at this
point. I’m still mad at you, and I’m tired of so many rules.

Jack frowned.
That’s not fair.

No, it isn’t. Nothing about your
or my life is fair.

~~~~

Kyle plopped down beside me on the
library couch, where I attempted to concentrate on college applications. His
woodsy cologne barely covered the remnants of chlorine. “You and DeWeese
fighting?”

I kept working. “Fighting?”

“Looked like you were getting
pretty intense after biology.”

“Did it? No. We’re fine.”

“You two serious?”

“Serious?” What was this? How could
I politely tell him to back off?

My phone chimed from the pocket of
my fleece jacket.

“You’ve never dated anyone at
Wellington. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” It wasn’t that he seemed jealous, more
like he was fishing for information.

“Yes, I guess you could say we’re
dating.” I pulled my phone out and stared at the screen. A text from Marci.

Found Sandra. 106 West Rose
Street
.

Rose Street? That runs through the
middle of UK’s campus. I texted back:
What is that? An apartment building?

I scanned the library with my eyes.
“Have you seen Jack?”

“You do have it bad.” Kyle
chuckled.

“What? No. I just need to go
somewhere. And I need a ride.”

I didn’t see Jack. In fact, I hadn’t
seen him since classes were over. Which was a good thing. Maybe I could leave
and be back before he noticed I was gone.

My phone chimed.
No. University
hospital. She is or was a patient there.

A patient?

Kyle had never been one to worry
about rules, and I wasn’t sure Jack would take me where I wanted to go. “You in
or out?”

“Me?” He pointed his finger into
his chest. “You want a ride from me? Did you get permission to leave?”

I really hated lying to my friends.
It just wasn’t something I did. “If I say ‘yes,’ will you take me?”

He thought for a solid five
seconds. A gleam actually flashed in his eyes. “Let’s roll.”

~~~~

The university hospital was an
enormous complex of offices, research labs, a specialized children’s hospital, along
with several wings of the actual hospital.

“This place has turned into a small
city since my grandmother died here a couple of years ago.” Kyle looked over
his shoulder, switching lanes.

“Your grandmother died here? In
this hospital?” I realized I knew very little about Kyle’s family. If his
grandmother was from the area, his family might live close as well.

“Yeah.” He leaned forward and looked
up at the tall building in front of us. “Why are we here?”

“I need to visit a friend of my dad’s.”

“Well, parking is a nightmare. How
about I drop you off? That way you can have a head start. I’ll park and come
find you.”

Did I really want Kyle with me when
I faced the woman who looked exactly like me twenty-seven years into the
future? “Actually, I won’t be long. Why don’t you grab a coffee at the shop we
passed back there?” I thumbed behind me. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to be
picked up.”

“You sure?” He studied me for a
second.

“Absolutely.” I tried to sound
casual. Like this was no big deal.

With that, I jumped out and jogged
toward the front entrance. It was definitely better if I did this alone.

Several people congregated, smoking
around a bench outside the hospital. The smell reminded me of Smoking Man. An
ambulance siren came closer and whizzed past me just as I reached the large
revolving door. Once inside, I approached a white-haired lady sitting behind an
information desk reading a scraggly-looking paperback.

After finishing the page she was
on, she peered at me over her bifocals. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my voice a
little shaky. “I’m here to visit a patient. Um… Sandra Whitmeyer.”

“Let’s see.” She clicked her mouse
a few times. Typed. Clicked some more. “You family?” she asked without looking
at me.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few more clicks and several “hmmms”
later, she said, “Just a minute.”

She picked up her phone, dialed a
number, listened, punched in another number, then hung up.

Strange.

When her eyes found mine again, she
smiled and said, “Room 618. Elevators are down the hall on the right.”

I edged along the hallway in the
direction she pointed. Nurses and doctors in various colors and patterns of
scrubs passed me without a glance. The elevator opened and a family rushed out.
A small child bumped into me as he ran past. I stepped on, followed by a man in
green scrubs, and pressed the number six.

With each floor we passed, the elevator
dinged. The man got off on five, and I was alone.

The doors opened on the sixth floor
into another bright hallway. To my left, a small waiting area and a series of
doors opened to even smaller rooms, and one closed door. Through the window, I
saw three people huddled together. Maybe in prayer, but definitely comforting
each other.

To my right—a large set of double
doors. On the wall beside the doors, gold lettering—Neurology - ICU.

A sign on the doors read, “Ring
bell for entrance.” Sure enough, a button resembling a doorbell hung to the
right of the doors and a card scanner for those with the right credentials.

I approached slowly. My fingers
hovered over the button. I didn’t know if it was the rumbling deep in the pit
of my stomach or the warning bells I imagined inside my head, but I pulled my
hand back without ringing the bell.

Was Sandra truly behind this double
set of doors? I was struggling to believe that the white-haired woman just sent
me straight up to the Neurology ICU, no questions asked other than taking me at
my word that I was, in fact, Sandra Whitmeyer’s family.

I guessed I could prove it with a
DNA sample.

I stared at the door again. What
was the worst that could happen? A nurse or doctor could turn me away. Tell me
I’m not allowed on this floor unless I’m family. Did I really want to see
Sandra? Look into eyes identical to mine? Prove once and for all that I was the
freak I thought I was?

Suddenly the door in front of me
shook. I jumped back. Looked all around.

I jumped into one of the private
rooms like a guilty, crazy person.

The doors opened slowly, the way they
do when you hit the handicap button. A couple of nurse-looking people exited and
waited for the elevator. Once they were on, I approached the entrance again. The
doors were just starting to close.

This was my chance. Did I jump
through them? What was I even scared of? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Not
really.

I slid through the opening just
before the doors closed. On the other side, a hallway of hospital rooms in two
directions. A nurse’s station to my left. In front of me... Room number 632.

I’d always thought the best way to
get where I wanted was to act like I already belonged. So, I walked along the
hallway with purpose.

630.

628.

626.

Jack.

I stopped in my tracks, and backed
up against a wall. Inside room 624 was Jack. Or a person identical to Jack. I
needed to look again to be sure. But I was nearly certain Jack leaned over a
bed inside the room.

Slowly, I angled my body toward the
room again and was about to lean my head around the corner to peek in when a
hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me backwards.