Open Minds (10 page)

Simon walked me out into the hallway. I withdrew from the minds of the math students as they drifted away into the swarm of people. Simon stopped and tugged me to the side. My eyes flew wide that he would touch me openly. He dropped his hand.

“That was perfect.” He moved toward me, eyes intense, and walked me two steps back to the lockers. “Time to come out and play, Kira.”

I started to ask him what he meant, but his hands were on my cheeks, and he crashed his lips onto mine. My entire body stilled, every sense focused on the contact between us. I wondered if this was how Raf’s lips would have felt if our near-kiss in the chem lab hadn’t ended in catastrophe. I dropped the backpack that had been dangling off one arm as Simon welded my body to the cold, riveted lockers. When he pulled back, I was amazed that one kiss could make it so difficult to breathe.

I knew nothing about first kisses—they belonged with boyfriends and college in the category of things I wouldn’t have as long as I was a zero. But Simon’s kiss made my face burn, and that didn’t seem right.

I sucked in a ragged breath. The hall had gone still, everyone facing us
.

“They’re staring,” I whispered. My lips were still singed from our blatant display.

“That’s because I told them you were a changeling,” he whispered back.

“You did
what
?” As I spoke, the students turned away in unison, as if suddenly moving on cue. Which must be exactly what Simon told them to do. The normal ebb and flow in the hall resumed as though it had never stopped. I sputtered, not knowing what to say, or even what to think. The crowd thinned as students hurried to their final period of the day.

“Welcome to real life, Kira,” Simon said. “Come on, I have some friends for you to meet.”

chapter FIFTEEN

A storm of emotions raged through me, like a changeling being driven demens.

Anger that Simon had outed me as a changeling. Humiliation that he had wantonly kissed me in public. A feeling I didn’t want to name had my body still on fire from that kiss.

Simon led me by the hand toward the bleachers. A few students clustered at the top, the supposed friends he wanted me to meet, but everyone else was in class.

I settled on indignant outrage. “You had no right to do that!” I yanked my hand out of his and stopped in my tracks.

He threw me a playful look. “Worked well, though.”

“What do you mean by
that
?” Heat radiated from the gravelly surface of the parking lot, but that wasn’t what burned my ears. He could at least admit he shouldn’t have broadcast my supposed
change
to the entire school, much less kissed me in front of everyone.

“I mean, you can’t come out as a changeling one person at a time, or even a class at a time. If you really were a changeling, everyone would know, Kira.” His patronizing tone made my fists curl. For the second time today, I was tempted to physically strike a large, stupid boy looming over me. Instead, I turned on my heel and strode back to the school building. That he was right only fueled the raging storm inside me.

“Kira, wait!” He was quickly by my side, but I wasn’t slowing down. “I’m sorry?”

“You had no right.” I kept my eyes trained on the back door. Simon tugged at my elbow, and I faced him with clenched fists.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said. “But it was the only way. If you’d jacked thirty kids, and no one else, someone would get suspicious. Like your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” The fire inside me blazed anew, having to say those words again.

“So you keep saying.”

I glared at him and then the door, debating my options. I could leave him here in the parking lot, show him what little I thought of him and his stupid comments. But I would have to face the other students inside, and word would have spread like wildfire about my status. Or I could go with Simon and meet his friends. Whoever
they
were.

Or I could go home and crawl under the covers and never come out.

Simon brushed away a strand of hair that was whipping around my face in the heated breeze. “I’m kind of hoping you mean it.”

I leaned away from his touch. “Mean what?”

“That he’s not your boyfriend.” He stepped closer. “I was hoping that position was open.”

My mouth flopped open but nothing came out, like a fish out of water and drowning in air. Simon smiled, and he seemed to enjoy making me flustered. Before I could muster a scathing retort, he said, “Don’t worry about that now.” He bit his lip in a way that made me want to both kiss him and smack that grin off his face. “Will you come meet my crew?”

I glanced at the students hanging out at the top of the risers.

“No thanks.” I spun and marched away from his waiting friends. My anger slowly seeped out with every hot-soled step across the pavement, but the embarrassment was still hot in my cheeks. I weaved in between faculty cars and headed for the front of school.

Simon caught up to me near a teacher’s sporty black hydro car. “Kira, wait.”

I stopped to give him a withering look.

He held up his hands. “At least let me give you a ride home.”

I stared, uncomprehending for a second, then my eyes flew wide. “That belongs to
you
?”

He stepped closer to the car and gave me a sheepish smile when it beeped the unlock tone. I didn’t know any students that drove to school, much less had their own car. My family shared the hydro car, but my dad would laugh himself silly if I asked to drive it to school.

I circled slowly around the car. “Is your family made of money?”

He gave a short laugh. “No.”

He held the passenger side door open, beckoning me. I decided that giving me a ride home was the least Simon could do. I climbed into the low seat, which shifted to hug me in a soft embrace. A frosty wind from the vents blasted away the hot outside air, and Simon ran around to slide into the driver’s seat.

“How can you afford this?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I got a great deal.”

I pictured Simon jacking a dealer to sell him this luxury car for a pittance. Simon nudged the joystick, and his too-fast car spun out of the parking lot like a silent black cat.

An empty feeling hollowed out my chest.

I gave Simon directions, and he parked his suspiciously expensive sports car in front of my house. The second floor windows were dimmed against the afternoon light. The drive had me home early, so my mom shouldn’t expect me yet. I hoped like crazy she wouldn’t decide to clean the windows today.

“Give me your phone,” Simon said. I hesitated, then fished it out of my backpack and traded with him. His phone was shiny black, with a mindware interface image floating above the surface. I stared at it while he fussed with mine.

He looked up. “It’s got mindware. Just jack in and program your number.” My eyebrows hiked high on my forehead. I could jack into mindware? I reached forward and a sour metallic taste tinged the back of my tongue, but the holographic matrix display hovering above the phone shifted with my mental touch. I quickly navigated the software and entered my number.

My smile snuck out as we exchanged phones again.

“I’ll scrit you later?” He seemed to be asking permission. I gave him a shrug, not wanting him to think I’d entirely forgiven him yet.

Simon’s outrageous, and probably felonious, car sped away before I reached the front door. I expected to find my mom in the kitchen, but it was empty, so I snagged a banana off the counter and headed to my room.

I had the banana half peeled and was about to take a bite when I swung into my room and stopped short. Mom stood next to my shelves and whirled around when she heard me. My bed was neatly made, which was different than the way I left it, and the sweet stench of furniture polish lingered in the air. My track trophies from junior high were glossier than before, and the flotilla of tiny souvenir sailboats from my dad’s overseas travels had a new shine. I couldn’t imagine what she could find snooping in my room, but I scowled at her anyway.

“I was only… cleaning up,” she said, guilt written on her face. “You’re home early.” She said this like it was some kind of excuse for being in my room. Which it wasn’t.

I slowly dropped my backpack on the bed. I could jack into her head and find out what she was up to, but my stomach still clenched at the idea. I mostly wanted her out so I could retreat under the covers and try to forget the day.

“Did you find anything interesting in my room?” I let my sarcasm drip.

She ignored the bait and pulled down a picture from the shelf. An image of me and my brother mugging in front of a snowman flashed by. “Have you talked to Seamus lately?” she asked.

I blinked at the change in conversation. “Um, no. Did he call?”

“No. I just miss him, you know? Will you tell him, the next time you talk to him?”

Ah.
This was mom-speak for
whatever is bothering you, call Seamus and he’ll help you work it out.
Mom could be pretty tricky when she wanted.

“Yeah, okay.”

She put the picture back on the stripped-down shelf, with only a couple other frames and Raf’s green stuffed monster. I wondered if she noticed the difference. She gave me wide berth on her way out and called back from the hall. “There are snacks if you want them.”

Once she was gone, I flopped down on my bed.

My phone vibrated in my backpack and I dug it out. Maybe Simon had finally decided to come up with a real apology.

It was Raf.

Oh no.
I dropped the phone like it might bite me.

Raf must have heard about Simon outing me in the hallway. Like the rest of school, he would think I was a changeling now, right after telling him that I was different and would never change.

The phone buzzed in its crater on my pink comforter. When it stopped, I gingerly picked it up. Raf hadn’t left a message.

I wished I could call Seamus, like Mom hinted in her sneakiness, and tell him all about what had happened. But I knew that would only make things a bigger disaster than they already were.

I scrit Seamus instead.
Mom misses you. Tell her we talked and all’s good.
Hopefully Seamus would call Mom and have my back, rather than freaking out and calling me. A minute later, he scrit back,
U ok?

Just need backup.

Got your six, sis.

Seamus was as mesh as big brothers came, but I was glad he was a thousand miles away at West Point. If he was here, he might try to pound on Simon.

And that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

chapter SIXTEEN

Raf waited until Saturday afternoon to seek me out.

I was lounging on my bed, coincidentally trying to finish my English reading, when I heard Mom answer the door. I knew it was Raf when I heard his footfalls slowly climbing the stairs.

I had hoped he had forgotten, but I should have known that simmering Portuguese temper of his wouldn’t let him stay away. Back in seventh grade, Lenny Johnson had suffered Raf’s wrath when he flung a spitball into my hair. It had taken Raf three days to find someone with the combination to Lenny’s locker, but only a day after that to cover everything in it with purple ooze he had cooked up in chemistry. I only hoped that Raf’s anger wouldn’t result in locker full of something disgusting. Although I probably deserved it.

Raf’s soccer-trained footfalls pounded a tempo on the last flight of steps. He slowed his pace halfway up, which gave me a few more seconds to get twitchy about what he would say.
Kira, why didn’t you tell me you’re a changeling? Kira, why did you lie to me?

I could link into his head and get a preview of his questions. Or I could simply jack in and command him to go away. My shoulders quivered at that thought. I was a liar by necessity. But I didn’t have to be a cheat, too. Besides, I didn’t trust myself in Raf’s head.

He filled my doorway with his broad shoulders. His chest rose and fell underneath his Blue Devil soccer jersey, like he was breathing in the courage to speak.

“Why?” he asked.

I tried to look innocent and failed miserably. “Why what?”

“Why
him
?”