Resilient (20 page)

When we get to the park, and before Livia can open the door, I lock the car. She turns to look at me and I grin at her. “There’s something I want to do first.”

“Yeah?” She leans closer and I reach for her face, touching her cheek and slowly moving my finger across her lips. She closes her eyes and I press my lips to hers, cupping her face in my hands. 

Kissing Livia is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Just the touch of her lips makes me care for nothing else. The world shuts off around me and she’s the only thing on my mind, the only thing I care about. I’m falling for her, hard.

And then, just like that, the moment slips away. We get out of the Jeep to walk down to the shoreline, Livia’s fingers interlaced with mine—all right, so maybe the moment’s still there. It feels good to be in a relationship where I actually care for the other person. I never understood it when guys said they would “do anything” for a girl; it didn’t make sense to me until now. Now, I would do anything to make Livia happy. Every little thing with her is pleasurable, even just being able to hold her hand or look into her eyes.

“Oh, I want to go check out that lighthouse!” Livia says, pulling on my hand and dragging me forward.

“It’s the Admiralty Head Lighthouse,” I blurt as I struggle to keep up. “We came here on a field trip once. I think it was rebuilt in 1903—the walls are, like, eighteen inches thick so it can withstand earthquakes.” I stare at the brick and stucco white lighthouse when we approach it. I haven’t been here in a while.

“Do we have time to go up?” she questions.

“I think so.”

As we reach the second floor of the lighthouse, Livia digs out her phone from her pocket and takes tons of pictures. She’s smiling wide. “What a beautiful view!”

“It’s even prettier from the shoreline.”

“Let’s go there!”

We walk across the park, going through the fort’s many buildings and checking out the historical guns. Livia stops a couple of times to take pictures. When we finally reach the shoreline, I sit down on the grass and Livia sits in front of me, leaning against my chest so that I can wrap my arms around her. She points out toward the distance. “That’s Mount Rainier, right?”

“Yes, and right across from us is the Strait of Juan de Fuca and Olympic Peninsula. There is a ferry that leaves here and takes you to Port Townsend.”

“I love the ocean and mountains together. It’s just a perfect combination, and makes for such an amazing view.”

She’s right. I’ve grown immune to this beautiful place. Sometimes, when you live in a place long enough, you forget how amazing it is. We sit here watching the ocean, the birds flying high, and the sun starting to set on the horizon. The sky is a bright shade of pink and the wind starts to pick up, blowing Livia’s hair across my face and releasing the flowery smell of her shampoo.

“I could lay here forever if you would stay with me,” she whispers in my ear. I smile, lacing my fingers with hers.

“I would.”

We watch the sun set and we stay in each other’s arms until there’s no sunlight left.

“I think I saw a sign that we are not allowed to stay past dusk. We probably should start heading back,” she says, moving away from me and standing up. “But we’ve got to do this more often.”

“Every sunny Sunday.”

She laughs. “Deal!”

We walk back to my Jeep, the last car in the lot. Everyone else has left. I open the door for Livia but she shuts it  and turns to smile at me. 

“What?” I ask, and she reaches for my neck, pulling my face close to hers, raking her hands through my hair and kissing below my ear, down to my neck, leaving me craving more. I put my hands on her waist and slide them up to her back, pulling her closer to me. I bury my face into her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. She tilts my face up, looking into my eyes, and brushes her lips on mine.

I lose myself in Adam’s kiss until I feel someone else’s presence. A moment later, I hear footsteps approaching. I pull away from him and look down the road.

A car is parked in the shadows of a tree, and as its driver steps out and gets closer, I see who it is. 

Adam frowns. “Get in the car,” he tells me, but I ignore him. He stares at me, desperate. “Get in the car now, please!” 

I don’t move. The guy’s only a few dozen yards away from us, and his anxiety starts to suffocate me. It is the guy who was talking to my uncle outside of the store this morning. I don’t want to get in the Jeep when I’m far too curious as to who this man is.

“We need to talk,” he says, looking at Adam. “ And not when you finally get the courage to visit that address I gave you. Now.”

The streetlight catches his face, which is half-hidden under his hoodie. One eye is swollen and black. He looks exhausted. He sees me staring and pulls out his hand from behind him. It’s wrapped in a bloody bandage.

“This is why we need to talk,” he says, waving his hand. “I can’t be around for much longer, and neither should you,” He looks from me to Adam, and now it feels like he is talking to both of us. His feeling about Adam is a strong one of protection. He fears for Adam’s life as my uncle feared for mine last night. In some strange way, their worries are nearly identical.

“This is not a good time,” Adam says, holding my hand in a tight grip.

“You were the guy outside of the store talking to my uncle today,” I say, and I look at Adam. “Do you know him?”

“No.”

“I’ll come to you,” Adam says opening the passenger door and hurrying me into the Jeep. 

“Adam!” the man protests. “Stop running away!” 

“How do you know this guy?” I ask as Adam locks the Jeep doors. “What does he want with you?” My anxiety is running high and I can’t control the discomfort I feel. I’ve thought about that guy all day. I know his speaking with my uncle was something more than just a mere encounter; Henry’s peachy mood had disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Adam blows out of the parking lot and onto the road. I’m trying to get him answer me, but he’s staring ahead, ignoring my questions. “Adam!” I shout, and he glances at me.

“Just a guy, Livia. It’s nothing.”

“But he’s hurt!”

“If he wants to go to the hospital, he’s able to drive himself there. He was able to follow us here, wasn’t he? ”

“I saw the way he was looking at you. I saw what he feels—he fears for your life.”

“You what?”

I stare at him, my heart in my throat.

He turns his stare back to the road. “Livia, I think it’s time for you to start letting me in on things, starting with your trip to New York.”

“I already told you why I went!” I snap. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why you just had to leave all of a sudden. What was so important?”

“I can’t tell you that.” I say it so quietly that I’m not sure he hears it.

“Just the same way you can’t tell me how your leg healed so fast?” 

“What are you accusing me of? It wasn’t as bad as we thought!” I say, hoping this stops here.

“The hell it wasn’t!” He retorts. “I saw it with my own eyes, Livia! Your leg was swollen and bruised, and forty-eight hours later, all that was gone, like nothing ever happened.”

“Adam, please stop,” I plead, but he keeps on mumbling and I hide my face in my hands.

“What about that guy at the airport? Why did you stare at him like that? Did you know him?”

“He was a bad person!” I exclaim, facing him now.

“Oh yeah, because you could see what he feels?”

“Are you even listening to yourself? What you’re implying is crazy, and not even possible, Adam.” 

He shakes his head and laughs in frustration. “No it’s not, I know that very well.” 

“Why? You can heal yourself too?”

“So I’m right?” His expression is more puzzled than vindictive.

This is getting to be too much; my head is spinning and I feel short of breath. “Take me home,” I say, and he reaches for my face, but I turn away. He tries to hold my hand, but I cross my arms over my chest.

“I’m sorry, Livia. I didn’t mean to yell at you, but you put so many walls up that I have no choice but to speculate. I just want you to talk to me.”

“You can’t get something from me without giving me something in return. You won’t tell me who this guy is. I know he was the one at the store this morning, and he has been following us—and given how he seems to feel about you, I kind of want to know what his warning is. I care about you. I want you to be safe.”

“If you are keeping things from me, then I have the right to do the same,” he says as he turns the Jeep onto the last road toward our houses. 

I don’t open my mouth the rest of the way home, and neither does he. I still have my arms crossed so he won’t try to reach for my hand. There is a knot inside of my chest and it’s hard to breathe. I can’t believe how stupid I was. Why did I think that he would just sit back and not question what happened to my leg? 

I’m trying to gain control of my emotions so I won’t cry in front of him. I don’t have the courage to tell him the truth; I care so much about him, and I don’t want him looking at me as if I’m a freak. 

That guy in the parking lot, I want to know who he is. Why all this secrecy over one man? Adam knows him and my uncle knows him, and he must be important, because why else would they lie about it? My life is surrounded by enough mystery and lies as it is.

I look at Adam from the corner of my eye. His jaw muscles are tight and he is frowning. He’s so mad at me for keeping things from him. His suspicions have been confirmed, and he knows I’m hiding something big, but now I suspect I’m not the only one. 

Adam pulls into my driveway and glances at me. “Is this it? Are you breaking up with me?” He asks, looking to the steering wheel. I try to hold my tears from coming  but I feel one sliding down my face. I quickly wipe it off.

“No, but I do need some time to think about what you told me and what you did not,” I say, even though I’m dying to hold him and tell him I could never leave him.

He doesn’t hide his defeated frown. “Well, you know where to find me when you’re done.”

I get out of the Jeep, shutting the door behind me, and I don’t look back. I let the tears fall as I feel part of my heart shattering to pieces.

I walk in the house and I hear my dad and Uncle Henry arguing inside of Dad’s office. I hear my name. My dad’s emotions make me bristle—he’s seriously concerned about something. I knock on the open door and they both turn to look at me. 

“This conversation is over,” Uncle Henry murmurs to my father.

“What were you arguing about?” I ask. “I thought you were leaving town today, Uncle.”

“Work stuff, Livia. Nothing that concerns you,” Uncle snaps. “And I’ve decided to stay in Washington this week, close to your grandmother.” More lies. He’s not staying here for Grandma. He’s staying for me.

I walk closer to my dad, who is staring at a large piece of paper on top of his desk. I look at the paper and I see my name on it. I read below it and I immediately recognize what it is. I’ve seen this in father’s research papers. “Modified DNA?” I question. “I thought you rejected the possibility of that a long time ago.”

“I did, but the last sample I got from you showed that your DNA has changed, which changes your entire genome. It’s like you are a different person. When you were little I noticed a tiny change in your sequence, but it was so insignificant that I thought it was due to external factors, maybe a virus or a lab error, but this time I think it has to do with your new abilities.” 

Dad picks up the paper from his desk and folds it. He slips it in his file cabinet and locks it.

“So, what, are you saying that as my abilities develop, my DNA changes?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking, but I’m not certain of it.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Uncle Henry argues. “The sample you got was probably contaminated before you tested it.”

“That’s why I’ll keep on testing,” Dad says.

I look at uncle as his emotions strengthen. He’s angry, but fear is what calls my attention—it’s back, and stronger than last night, strong enough to make my hands shake. What is he so afraid of? 

I should tell him about that guy following Adam and me, but I don’t want Dad to know about it. If he thinks I am in any danger, he’ll lock me in the house and even call the cops. 

“Don’t worry, Livia,” Dad says calmly. “We’ll get new samples every month and see how this progresses. I’ll keep looking into it.” 

I see Uncle Henry rolling his eyes. He doesn’t want my dad running these tests. Why? 

“Sure, Dad, I’ll gladly donate blood for your research,” I say, trying to push my uncle over the edge and get a deeper look, but it only makes his shield stronger.

I turn to leave the room, but Dad stops me. “Are you okay? You seem—”

“‘Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth’.”

“Buddha,” Uncle Henry answers.

“Livia,” my dad says, “we’ll get the truth. I promise.” 

I know he’ll live up to his promise, but the question is, what else will happen in the meantime?

The loud drip of a faucet wakes me up in the middle of the night. I look at the clock on my nightstand; its bright red digits read 2:33 a.m. I try to ignore the dripping sound, but it’s bothering me. I walk to the bathroom and the faucet isn’t turned all the way off. I tighten it up, wondering how the hell I heard that from my bedroom.

In the morning, Kevin is talking right outside my bedroom door. I don’t open my eyes to look—I just yell at him to get lost, but he ignores me. 

“He’s not going to, I’m telling you!” I hear him as if he’s inside of my head, and his voice only grows louder.

“Get lost, Kevin!” I yell louder. He just keeps on blabbing. I lift my head off my pillow in effort to face Kevin, but I don’t see him; my head pounds and pain takes over.

I manage to pull myself up and sit on the side of my bed. I wrap my hands around my head, but the pain spreads from my skull all the way down my spine. I hear Kevin, I hear shower water running, I hear birds chirping outside, and I hear footsteps walking down the stairs. My head is pounding and pounding and I fall to the floor, burying my head between my legs. I bite my lips so I won’t scream.