Night Sky (24 page)

“I can get in Milo's head,” I blurted to Cal. “I am literally able to hear his thoughts. And he can hear mine.”

Calvin frowned into the rearview mirror. “Really?”

“Really,” I said. “Wow, I wonder if I can do it with you.”

Milo turned around, and he was frowning slightly. I wondered if I was imagining things, or if he actually looked a bit jealous. But just as quickly, he shot me that grin again and said, “It's worth a shot. We'll want to know how far your powers extend.”

That was enough of a green light for Cal. He took a right-hand turn and parked quickly in a gas station lot. Then, after swiftly pushing the car into park mode, he swiveled around in his seat. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” he asked.

I shrugged. His guess was as good as mine. “I think it had to do with physical contact,” I offered.

“Fine,” Cal said, reaching quickly for my hand. I took it.

And we stared at each other.

And stared.

Finally, Calvin busted out laughing. “Girl, seriously?”

“Wait,” I insisted. “I'm trying my best to concentrate…”

“I don't know how your mental wavelengths are doing, but mine are pretty much white noise.”

I waited for a few more moments, but the car's idling engine was the only sound. Plus, I couldn't
feel
Cal the way I had
felt
Milo. It sounded absolutely insane. But it was the only way I knew how to describe it. I'd felt Milo inside of my head, warm and calm and lovely.

Milo had propped himself forward, his elbows leaning against the tops of his legs. Without warning, I let go of Cal's hands and grabbed Milo's shoulder…

…eyes are prettier than music, but she doesn't know that, I can tell…

…and then I let go, because my hand had gotten unbearably hot, or maybe it was my brain that had heated up. Either way, the sudden connection was so intense, so intimate, that I inhaled sharply.

Milo jumped a little too.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to…” It felt as if I'd walked in on a stranger using the bathroom; it seemed that rude, and just as embarrassing. Had he been thinking about Dana? “Oh, God. I really need to ask before I do that, don't I?”

But Milo shook his head. “You don't have to ask. I was just surprised. I can feel you—when you're there.”

I nodded. “Same here. I can feel you.” And I blushed at my own words.

Calvin tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he put the car back in gear and pulled out of the gas station. “Tell me this isn't the Ouija board trick.”

“What is the Ouija board trick?” Milo turned away from me to ask.

“You know,” Cal said, waving his hands in the air. “The Ouija board trick. When two people conspire to move the dial, and they both act equally surprised, but they're pushing it in the same direction at the same time. And nobody else knows it because the two tricksters act so excited, but they've actually planned it out hours in advance.”

I shook my head. “No conspiracy here,” I replied.

Milo nodded his agreement.

I resisted the temptation to touch Milo again. I caught him looking, and I didn't need any special power to figure out that he was thinking the same thing.

I sat back in my seat.

Milo turned around so that he was facing forward, but he spoke loudly so I could hear him. “We're going to need to tell Dana about this, after she gets back.”

I nodded. I couldn't wipe the dopey smile off my face. I was telepathic. But only, at least so far, with Milo—who was Dana's freaking boyfriend. Thinking about
that
got me to stop smiling.

And then I
really
stopped smiling as I remembered my little naked fantasy from before. Oh my God, I'd been thinking about kissing Milo when he'd bumped into me. Had he picked up on that? Had I sent those crazy thoughts sailing into his mind? Had he seen me naked?

Except, as far as being naked went, it was a pretty awesome naked me that I'd imagined.

Still…

“Am I really driving to Harrisburg, people?” Calvin asked, slowing down as he approached the interstate.

Milo nodded, glancing back at me as he said, “We're not going too deep into the city this time. We'll be safe. I know a guy who lives right on the border. A forger. We're hiring him to make us some fake IDs.”

Calvin looked uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything as he turned onto the highway.

I managed to push my wayward fantasy out of my head, but I was unable to stop thinking about what had just happened between Milo and me. I concentrated, trying to figure out what we'd both experienced, trying to come up with a reason why I could read Milo's thoughts and not Cal's.

“Milo?” I asked. “Are you sure you don't have…gifts? Like Dana and me?”

Milo looked back at me and shook his head, adamant. “Dana and I have done a lot of tests, and I'm definitely not a Greater-Than.” The edge of his mouth turned up into a smile, and he shrugged. “I'm really nothing special.”

Oh, I had a very hard time believing that. “Then how could you feel—hear—what I was thinking?”

“You let me,” Milo replied. “It was all you.”

Calvin drove in silence, glancing up into the mirror every once in a while to look at me as I sat there in the backseat. I had a difficult time reading his expression. He seemed annoyed—or maybe he was just nervous about going back into the crappy part of town.

It seemed ridiculous. Here I was, trying to decipher what my best friend was feeling, even as I could recite back a virtual stranger's thoughts—just by placing a fingertip on his skin.

“So are you able to do…what we just did…with Dana?” I asked.

Milo shook his head as he looked back at me again. “Dana's not telepathic, although she'd really love to be. She's tried everything she can think of to develop those skills, but that's not how it works. You are what you are. And while you can hone your talents—like, she's taken her telekinetic skills and trained herself to the point where she can use them in some pretty amazing ways—most G-T's have only one or two things they can do.” His eyes studied me somberly. “You're proving yourself to be extremely exceptional.”

“Yeah, but I can't control any of it yet,” I pointed out. “I mean, I'd like to be able to touch you without forcing my thoughts down your throat.” I felt my face heat as I realized what I'd just said.
I'd like to be able to touch you
. “I mean,” I stammered. “What I meant was, what if I accidentally bump into you, and then, boom, everything I'm thinking, and everything
you're
thinking is—”

“It's okay,” he interrupted me. “I don't mind.”

“Well, you should,” I said. “What if you're having a…a…private-thought moment?”

Milo smiled at that, and there was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite define. It was more than amusement, though. And God, it was similar to the way he'd looked at me in my little daydream, right before he'd kissed me. “You're right,” he finally said. “That could be awkward.”

Calvin cleared his throat. “So tell me where I'm going here,” he said a little sharply.

Milo turned back around. “Sorry. I'm…distracted again. Take the next exit. It's the same one we took into Harrisburg last time. But at the end of the ramp, you're going to turn left. So we won't pass the Sav'A'Buck. We're actually heading back toward Coconut Key.”

“That's cool with me,” Cal said.

It was definitely cool with me too.

“So why, exactly, do we need fake IDs?” Calvin asked.

“We need to find out more about the drug problem in this area,” Milo answered. “Dana thinks it might lead us to the people who killed Sasha.”

Calvin sighed. “Man, what do you mean
find
out
about
the
drug
problem?
I thought we were going to pass, this time, on hangin' with the creepy peeps.”

Milo's profile looked sad to me as he looked at Calvin. “The addicts in Harrisburg are not what we're looking for. We need to find the richie-riches, as Dana calls 'em. The people who can afford to buy Destiny.”

“So if these Destiny addicts aren't in Harrisburg,” Calvin asked, “then where are they?”

Milo chewed on his nicotine gum. “Everywhere,” he said. “But mostly where there's a lot of money.”

“Coconut Key,” I muttered as Milo nodded.

“And we need fake IDs because…?” Calvin asked.

“A lot of Destiny users spend their time in nightclubs and high-end hotel bars—the
beautiful
people
locations,” Milo explained. “We'll need fake IDs to get in.”

Calvin made a noise. “Man, no one's going to let me into a club, with or without a fake ID! Look at me!” He waved one hand in front of his legs as his other gripped the steering wheel. “Who wants to let someone in a wheelchair through the gate? Bouncers won't let you in if you're not sexy enough, and last time I checked, my chair has a sexy rating of negative ten.”

“Dana's going to help you with that,” Milo replied.

“Help with what? Making me sexy?” Calvin laughed.

Milo shook his head. “Wait until Friday. She'll show you.”

Calvin looked at him with disgust. “She'll
show
me. That's the best you're going to give me?”

“I think you're going to need to see it to believe it.”

“Okay, oh mysterious one,” Cal said with a laugh. “Be that way.”

As we exited off the interstate, I could see the lights of the Sav'A'Buck in the distance. Other than that, everything was dark.

“Turn here,” Milo said urgently, and Calvin pulled a sharp right, his tires screeching slightly down the narrow street.

I looked around. The area was mainly residential, but the houses were dilapidated and sallow. On either side of the road, the few remaining streetlamps cast a flickering and feeble light onto the pavement. The front lawns were either overrun by crabgrass and weeds, or comprised completely of ground-up shells.

“We're going to number 3111,” Milo said. “Fourth house on the right-hand side.”

Calvin pulled up to the place. It was a rundown single-story building, the paint on the shutters peeling off like old snakeskin. The front porch sagged slightly, and a hanging wind chime whistled and clanged with an ominous sound as the breeze blew through it.

“And how well do you know this…friend of yours?” Cal asked skeptically.

“He's a friend of a friend of a friend,” Milo specified.

“Oh, good.”

Milo placed a reassuring hand on Calvin's shoulder. “It's okay. I'm certain that you're safe here.”

Calvin was clearly not convinced. “Let's just get this over with.”

I leaned over to open my door, but this time Milo beat me to it. I thanked him quietly as he shut it behind me.

“I'm not gonna be able to go inside,” Calvin noted. The steps up to the front porch were steep, and rickety to boot. “You guys better get this done fast,” he added grumpily.

But just as I was about to offer to wait outside with Calvin, a huge dude with tats and a trucker hat opened the front door to the house and marched down the steps to meet us.

He was a burly guy with a thick, ratty beard, and I'd assumed at first glance that he was at least thirty-five, if not older, but as he got closer I realized that the facial hair had thrown me way off. He was actually only a few years older than Milo—just seriously weather-worn. He was, himself, pretty much a walking fake ID.

“Y'all can't come in, 'cause Becka's feeding the baby and her tits are out.”

Lovely. Apparently Milo had some really classy friends of friends of friends.

“You must be Nicholas,” Milo said. “Renfro sent me.”

“Renfro, huh?” The trucker dude crossed his arms belligerently, as he hacked a loogie to the side. “If he sent you, he told you how much it was going to cost.”

Milo ignored the drool missile and nodded, unperturbed. “Nine hundred. Each.”

“Dollars?” I asked, my voice squeaking a bit as the word popped out of me almost involuntarily.

Nicholas glanced at me. “Cash,” he told Milo. “Paid up front. Non-negotiable and nonrefundable. If the IDs don't work 'cause your girlfriend's twelve, I don't want to hear about it.”

“I'm not twelve,” I said indignantly. “I'll be seventeen on Friday.”

“Well, yee-hah,” Nicholas said with absolutely no inflection. “Thus endeth the jailbait phase.”

“She's not my girlfriend,” Milo said a little too quickly—as if the idea were horrifying to him—as he took what looked like a bank envelope from his back pocket and held it out.

Nicholas took the envelope with a hand that was almost completely tatted, and opened it to reveal a thick, healthy-looking stack of bills.

Calvin's eyes got huge as Nicholas counted the money.

I touched Milo's arm, needing to ask,
Where
did
you
get
that?

“Eighteen,” Nicholas said, looking from me to Calvin to Milo, even as Milo took my hand and squeezed it. His own hand was dry and cool and really nice, which made me realize that mine was sweaty.
Yuck
.

It's okay
, Milo told me, and I realized I'd broadcast that entire thought.

“I'm assuming,” Nicholas said, “this is for the Mouseketeers and that you're good.”

Dana's really good at finding…things of value and selling them on the black market.
“I'm good,” Milo told Nicholas pleasantly. “But I'd be even better if you showed just a
little
more respect for my friends.”