Spark (29 page)

I throw my jacket in the corner and curl up on the bed. I stare at the shadows on the wall, wishing I could escape into sleep but it’s early and there’s no sleep in me, just a blank, wakeful void.

At some point I hear Barb and Leonard in the hall and know they will be checking on Kitty. I hate imagining their faces when they find out about the awful things I said. I press the tender marks on my arms where I blocked the sparring dummy, imagining the bruises blue on my white bones. I want to think about that warm moving lump I’d felt in Miriam’s memory, but I know it’ll make me cry. I want to stew about Aiden but have no energy to trawl back over the details. Instead, I scan the bandwidth and think about nothing, concentrate on breathing. It seems like an accomplishment.

When I hear Miriam’s car, a juvenile relief fills me, like here’s my grown-up who’ll take care of the mess and love me despite my mistakes.

She doesn’t come straight up. I know one of the Gallaghers will fill her in. Probably Jamie, what with the awkwardness about Leonard and Barb. I imagine the effort it’ll take for him to hide his disgust. Eventually, there are soft steps in the hall. She knocks and opens the door, but I don’t roll over. The bed dips as she sits and puts her hand on my arm.

“Kitty’s afraid of me.”

She sighs, a gentle sound I don’t deserve. “No, she’s not.”

“You didn’t see her face.”

“She blames herself.”

“What?” I jerk on my side to look at her.

This is what Sparking has done to me
.

I groan, remembering our conversation from the morning and how I scolded Kitty for blaming herself. In the space of one afternoon, I’ve ruined everything. I press my hand to my eyes. “You know she’s been writing her goodbyes?”

“Maybe she’s … processing.”

“She doesn’t believe I can save her.”

“She’s afraid.” Miriam strokes my hair. “Jamie said you’ve been having nightmares.”

I tell her everything. “It’s not normal, is it? You’ve never dreamed like that.”

Miriam doesn’t say anything.

I know I’ve shocked her and I feel truly worse. “What if–” I squeeze my eyes shut and choke it out, “What if I’m not good?”

She rolls me back against her. “How can you say that? Of course you’re good.”

“But what if there’s something wrong with me? What if it’s bad wiring?”

She holds my face and even in the dark her stare is fierce. “You are good. Do you hear me? It’s just a dream. You can’t fight DNA.”

I make my way up to Kitty’s room, carrying a breakfast tray, knock on the door and let myself in. The shower is running in the bathroom. I wasn’t prepared for a delay. I had worked myself up to give a speech the moment I came in. I cross to her desk and place the tray on top then sink onto the corner of her bed, tearing a doughy hunk of muffin, stuffing it in my mouth.

A wad of paper catches my eye, balled up by the leg of Kitty’s desk. With only the smallest hesitation, I kneel, grab the screwed up paper and unfold it. The sense of breaking taboo churns my stomach. It’s a list.

Before the end: To do list:

1. Perfect crème brûlée

2. Fall in love

3.
2 kids
3 kids

4. Live in London

5. Editor of my own food magazine

6.
Event manage

I stare at the paper so long my eyes sting. I picture her sitting at her desk compiling the list. Did she screw it up after overhearing my rant? If her hope is gone, I have no one to blame but myself.

The shower stops.

I stuff the list in my pocket and wait.

Kitty comes from the bathroom wrapped in her towel, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Breakfast.” I nod at the tray, folding my trembling hands under my arms. “And an apology.”

She tucks a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t need to. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I was angry with Jamie. I should never have said those things.”

She nods at the floor. “I better get dressed or we’ll be late.”

I want to touch her, hug her, force her to be okay. Instead, I turn to the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Are you allowed to do that?” Lila straightens up, one trainer tied.

I stop digging in my bag, following her gaze to Kitty. I shoot to my feet. “What are you doing?”

She stands there in her gym gear, bare-necked, the foam support in her hands. “I’ve had enough.” She stuffs the brace in her locker and closes the door, a metallic clap.

I shake my head. “You’re putting that back on.”

“No, I’m not.”

I can’t stop staring at her neck, naked and unprotected. “You’re being ridiculous. Put the damn brace on.”

Her grey eyes aren’t as dark as her brother’s but there’s steel in them now. “No.”

A quiet gust of outrage parts my lips, but what can I do, wrestle her to the ground? Her eyebrow arches; she knows I won’t do anything in front of the others. “Gym?” I snap. “Really? That’s the best option for going without your brace?”

“What if someone bumps you?” Imogen says, putting her shirt on.

“Exactly!” I nod at Imogen and round on Kitty. “What then?”

“I’m fine.” Kitty bends to tie her laces. Her hair brushes forwards. I see the chaffing on the vulnerable curve of her neck, where the brace has rubbed her skin.

I glare, but she keeps her head down.

Imogen and Lila exchange looks.

I clench my teeth so tightly a bone clicks in my jaw. I yank my T-shirt off and throw it in the locker.

“Jeez, Evie. What have you done?” Lila touches my wrist and my pins and needles zip-zap. I had forgotten about the state of my arms, dark blooms from wrists to elbows. My mind blanks and my mouth opens and closes. I can feel the other girls turning towards me. I pull my gym shirt on to stall.

“She slipped on the stairs,” Kitty says, briefly meeting my eyes. “Carrying a bloody great box of books and landed on her arms.”

“Um, yeah,” I say. “Hurt like hell.”

Lila grimaces. “Looks like.”

“That’s what you get when you think you have to do everything yourself,” Kitty mutters.

Out in the gym, Mrs Jenner blows her whistle.

I step onto the courts, aggravated at feeling nervous. Will Richard be there? He arrived in the foyer that morning with his nose taped, a black-eyed scowl, and surrounded by sympathisers. I’d caught sight of him from a distance and braced for a day of smart-assed remarks.

Thankfully, he doesn’t appear from the locker room, though his friends glower, a campaign of intimidation. One of them hisses through his teeth, “You wait.”

“Piss off,” Angelo steps in front of me, as well as another couple of kids wearing the blue screen-printed T-shirts. Richard’s friends sneer and turn away, not so much backing down as biding their time.

“You okay?” Angelo slings his arm around my shoulders, a casual squeeze, just as Jamie emerges from the boys’ locker room. Jamie stares. Angelo doesn’t see him and reaches for my wrist. “What happened to your arms?”

I repeat Kitty’s excuse and pull away. “I’m fine.” I look up but Jamie has moved away and my stomach swoops.

After Mrs Jenner takes the roll, we begin jogging laps. Angelo and a few of the blue T-shirt crew keep pace behind Kitty and I, a buffer against Richard’s cronies. It feels weird having people I don’t even know defending me. I wish they wouldn’t – I hate the attention. I glance at Kitty, jogging glum-faced on my right. I imagine every step jarring up through her spine.

“Is this my punishment?” I keep my voice low, eyes forward. “You endangering your life?”

She sighs, huffy with impatience. “Yes. It’s all about you, Evie.”

“Point made. I suck. Now put your brace back on.”

“I’m self-actualising,” she says. “Taking charge of one small portion of my life. I realise it’s probably not something you can comprehend, being essentially an indestructible cyborg and all, but having your life dictated to you rather grates on the nerves.”

My face grows hot and I fight to keep my voice down. “That – that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s
my
neck.”

We keep jogging.

I keep fuming. “You think I’m self-actualising? You think I’m the boss of
my
life?”

“Well, you’ve decided who Jamie’s allowed to love and what I’m allowed to write, and Miriam had to pull a rabbit out of her arse before you’d forgive her and clearly you think you know better than I do what’s good for me. So, I’d say, yeah, sounds pretty take charge to me.”

I stop in my tracks, but Kitty keeps jogging, Angelo and the blue shirts dodging around me. “You okay?” Angelo calls, jogging backwards.

I wave him on. “I’m fine.”

Jamie jogs past, his eyes brushing over me, taking in the bruises on my arms. He doesn’t stop. Gil, a few steps behind, frowns and looks at me questioningly. I try to produce a smile and shrug like nothing’s wrong but I can tell he doesn’t buy it. Neither do I.

I drop my satchel on the floor and lean against the locker, closing my eyes. Two classes down and my endurance has waned. I wish I could wall out the noise of students congesting the corridor and wonder if I can persuade Kitty to ditch calculus.

Kitty closes her locker. “Permission to use the restroom?”

I bite back a retort and crack an eye open. “Looks like a queue.” Girls are crowding in there. She doesn’t reply but walks away. I close my eye and mutter, “I’ll be right here.” I concentrate on the pulse of the tether, one ear on the bandwidth. Someone stops by me. I keep my eyes closed hoping they’ll get the hint.

“My dove?”

I open my eyes and Gil leans his wide frame, one shouldered, against the locker beside me. “
My dove?
” I say.

His eyes glint. “I’m trying it out.”

I shake my head. “Nooo.”

He shrugs, turning his body to assume the same posture as mine. “Lot on your mind?”

Quietly hysterical laughter shakes my shoulders. “A bit, yeah.”

“Skip seems rather … preoccupied himself.”

You’ve decided who Jamie’s allowed to love
. “It’s complicated.”

He nods a slow, contemplative nod. “I’m loath to undermine my own campaign, but you know you’ve kind of been Jamie’s dream girl since he was eleven, right?”

I brace my hands against the locker, a lump forming in my throat. “Seems unlikely given we argued most of the time we were kids.”

“You know what they say about that.” He lowers his voice. “I won’t break tree house confidentiality, but you do remember that he dragged you from the river?”

“He knocked me in.”

“I’ll admit the details are a little sketchy but, trust me, an experience like that works its way deep into a young man’s psyche.” He presses his lips together and pushes himself upright. “Just saying. See you later, Sweet Pea.”

“Gah.”

He shrugs. “I’ll work on it.”

My insides ache. If Gil has picked up on the weirdness between me and Jamie, how long before the rest of them do too?

The bandwidth crackles.

I freeze and scan the crowd.

Down at the other end of the corridor, Aiden turns the corner. Even from here he looks pale and exhausted. I straighten up, my pulse hammering. I reach into the static. It grows loud, but that always happens when I get worked up. I know I’m supposed to be keeping an open mind, but I remember my spike in fear when we walked from the principal’s office. My spine zip-zaps.

DNA.

Get his DNA.

But what should I do? Stab him with a pencil? Scratch him with my nails? My mind turns chaotic flips. He might have hair on his collar.

You’re over-thinking. Read the bandwidth
.

But I’m so unreliable.

It’s the perfect opportunity
.

With Kitty only yards away and out of sight – if I could stall him, talk to him, test the bandwidth at this proximity, maybe I could … An idea seizes me. KMH. Miriam’s warned me it doesn’t work on civilians, so if I can harvest something, anything from him, won’t that be proof?

Oh crap, oh crap
.

I remember his hand on my shoulder, that casual touch. I could do that, couldn’t I?

He doesn’t look up as he trudges towards me, shadows under his eyes, frowning like he has a headache. Is it a reaction to Kitty’s nearness? I act before I have a chance to chicken out, stepping right in front of him. I grip his arm, a split second of heart-stopping contact. I reach into the bandwidth and slip into a black hole. I see nothing, hear nothing, not even the white noise I’ve become accustomed to when scanning for signals. I grope in the emptiness, blind and deaf.