Twist (18 page)

“Are you happy, Bree?” he finally said quietly. “With me?”

“What? Of course I am.”

“It's just that … we used to be like that.” He gestured to Finn and Jafney. She glanced our way then wrapped her arms around Finn and yammered on about a Virtual Vacay trip she'd taken to the Amazon.

“You used to be like that,” said Wyck.

In that moment, I was jealous of Finn and Jafney, too. But not for the same reasons as Wyck. Their relationship may have been fast and intense. I may have hated everything about it because Finn had chosen her over me, but it was simple. It was Muffin Wuffin and beach dates. Finn and I had never been Muffin Wuffins. Our entire relationship had been built on mortal danger and giant space-time conundrums. Our two most memorable beach dates had involved me wrecking his car and him saving me from drowning.

Finn and Jafney's relationship seemed so easy. So natural. Finn deserved simple. He deserved natural.

Finn deserved Jafney. Well, no, he deserved better than Jafney. But Finn deserved someone like Jafney, someone who wasn't as chronologically complicated as me. Even before this change had happened to place me with Wyck, I'd worried that at any moment, Finn would look at me and say, “Not worth it.”

Maybe that's exactly what he did.

Enough. I needed to focus on keeping my ticket to ICE in my pocket and convincing Finn to go home.

“What activity do you want to do, Muffin Wuffin?” I asked Wyck with a flirtatious bat of my eyelashes.

He laughed. A true Wyck laugh, deep and hearty, and I wished I could have my friend back. If it wasn't for the whole killer-waiting-to-be-unleashed thing, it would be exactly like old times.

“Maybe not that much like them,” he said, then raised his voice. “Hey, why don't we tromp around Santa Fe? Finn can show us the sights.”

“Heh.”

“How about swimming?” Jafney said.

No.

“Why don't we go spelunking?” It was the first opinion Finn had expressed that evening.

“Perfect,” said Wyck, punching in our choice.

The simulator gave us the all-ready after a few moments, and the mouth of a cave yawned black and hollow before us. Wyck led. I crawled in behind Jafney, and Finn trailed our party. There was no equipment to put on because it was a simulation, but an adjustable beam of light shone out of each of our foreheads as if we wore headlamps.

At first we all kept up a loose version of a conversation, but as the terrain became more challenging, everyone focused their comments on what was coming next or warnings about sharp drop-offs or tricky handholds. The deeper we delved, the farther ahead Wyck's and Jafney's lamps disappeared. Jafney turned a corner, and I lost sight of her completely. Her voice faded away as well. I knew that with these holosims, she could actually be just a few feet away but they created the illusions of height, depth, and distance according to everyone's exact retinal angle.

I was about to call out to her to wait when Finn's hand slipped over my mouth. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into a side passage.

“What are you—?” I leaned my head back so I wouldn't blind Finn with my headlamp.

“Shh.” He fiddled with my light until it flickered off. Then he did the same with his own, dimming it to nothing but a dull glow between our two faces.

I strained to hear any sound but the
drip-drip-drip
of the stalactites. At first, I thought I heard a tinkle of laughter that might have been Jafney, but it faded into the dripping.

“We need to catch up with them,” I whispered.

“We need to talk.”

“Now?” I certainly didn't want to hear the details of his relationship with Jafney, and I wasn't about to bring up my plans with ICE while Wyck was actually only ten feet away.

“Yes, now,” said Finn. “Don't think I missed that stunt Wyck was pulling with the Washington Monument.”

I checked the tunnel again to make sure that Jafney and Wyck were still out of the vicinity.

“Fine,” I said. “I've got it under control. But you want to talk? Let's talk. Why have you not gone home? What part of chronofugitive does not scare the blark out of you?”

“That's why you think I'm still here? To prove something?”

“No, I think you're still here because your tendrils are all snuggled up with Jafney's.”

“Well, obviously,” said Finn.

Un-blarking-lievable. He had the sheer nerve to rub it in my face?

“Look,” I said. “I know what you
think
you saw in that picture Jafney showed you, but—”

“I think I saw Wyck kissing you.”

Oh, you do not get to judge me, Finnigan J. Masterson.

“Tell me,” I said, “how long did it take you to throw yourself into Jafney's arms after she showed you that picture?”

Finn's voice grew as dark as our surroundings. “About two seconds.”

“That's what I thought.” I had nothing more to say to him. “Look, Muffin Wuffin, I have a big day tomorrow, and the last thing I need is you horking it for me.” If Wyck suspected me of anything but total devotion, there was no way he'd bring me along to cheer him on for his First Shift.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” asked Finn.

I glanced out of the passage, but Finn and Jafney were still out of eye- and earshot.

“I'm going to ICE's headquarters with Wyck,” I whispered.

“You're … what?” Finn let go of me and gripped the walls of the simulated cave. The pixels sparked and blinked where he dug his fingers into the crevices. “Why didn't you tell me.…?”

“Why didn't I? Why would I?”

“Because it's dangerous. You saw him back there.”

“Oh,
you're
going to lecture me about dangerous? And I told you, I have it under control. Besides, I'm not your concern anymore.” I gave him a pointed look. “Remember?”

Finn looked at the mouth of the crevice where we'd crawled in. A sliver of light had started to grow in the distance even though we couldn't hear Jafney or Wyck yet.

“Bree, I may be with Jafney, but you're still my—”

“Enough.” I couldn't bear to hear the word “friend” come off his lips. It was like the final insult. This conversation was over as far as I was concerned.

“Come on,” I said, tugging at his sleeve to continue down the serpentine tunnels.

Finn, however, pulled me back and cupped my cheeks in his hands. He brushed my hair back with his thumb and leaned down like he was going to kiss me.

“Blark it,” he said. Then I realized … he was going to kiss me.

I shoved him back as hard as I could. He may have chosen Jafney over me, but surely he didn't think I was the type of girl who would be the object of his wandering eye. Finn tumbled back, a bemused expression on his face, and I realized, yeah. That's exactly what he thought.

No sooner had his bum hit the ground than a bright beam shone in the crevice where we were. Jafney's light wobbled as she tilted her head to the ceiling.

“What are you two doing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” we both said.

“Bree tripped, and I was helping her get set back up,” said Finn.

“In a hole?” Jafney eyed the crevice we were still tucked in.

Finn and I both made burbling noises that sounded something like “P'buh.”

Thankfully, Jafney seemed no more the suspicious than the intuitive type.

“At least you're okay,” she murmured.

“Yes, that was close.” Wyck spoke for the first time, and only then did I notice his light shining behind hers. He tapped something on his belt, and the cave melted away.

Finn and I were still in the amount of space that the crevice occupied, about a square yard, so our knees were entwined like the teeth of one of Finn's zippers. Jafney and Wyck were crouched a few feet from us. It was bizarre to me how these simcubes worked, how you could be so near your fellow participants without detecting them at all. Finn and I were tangled at such an odd angle that there was no way for me to stand up without assistance.

“Too close,” added Wyck, reaching his hand out to me.

Jafney glanced over at Wyck, then back at me, a look of fury now on her face. She reached down and pulled Finn up then nestled herself under his shoulder. He pulled her in even closer.

“It was lucky you were there to help,” I said brightly to Finn, my cheeks coloring.

Indignation battled with shame in my stomach. Shame that Finn thought my affection was so transferable—him to Wyck, Wyck to him. But indignant that Finn had given up on me so easily, given up on us. Indignation won out. My motives were pure. His, on the other hand.… Apparently, there was only one body part he was thinking with right now. Maybe he thought he had the moral upper ground by chasing after Jafney to prove something. Heck, maybe he even liked the hagfish. But he should have believed in me more. Should have believed in me longer. He should have believed in us.

After an awkward parting as two couples, I fought the urge to look over my shoulder and watch Finn and Jafney as they traipsed down the sidewalk, hand in hand and lovey-smoosh-faced.

Wyck took my hand after a block, and I let him. He had this annoying habit of squeezing it multiple times during a conversation, but only while he was talking. I barely said a word, to the point that I was about to lose circulation in my fingers.

“Sorry you had such a hard time in the caves. Usually you're so nimble in gym class. And you're so much shorter than Jafney. I would have thought…”

“Yep, it was weird. Must have been slippery pixels.”

“Slippery pixels?”

“Yeah.” I wiggled my fingers to loosen them from his grasp. “Slippery pixels.”

We reached the steps of the Institute.

“I guess this is good-night,” Wyck said. “I'm going to sleep at home tonight. Big day tomorrow.” He leaned in for a kiss, and I reciprocated with one that would have bored my dead grandmother.

“You should get to bed,” I said when he pulled away.

“You're probably right.” He looked up at the stars and hummed. The tune was familiar. He started to sing the words in a garbled, froggy-sounding voice. “‘It's not easy being green.…'”

“Where did you hear that song?” I cut him off. That was Finn's song.
Our
song.

“Hm?” Wyck looked back down at me. “What song?”

“The song you were just singing.” Had Wyck gone back to spy on Finn again? But why? On this timeline, Finn wasn't his enemy.

“I was singing a—?” Wyck's brow furrowed. “It was on a show I used to watch when I was a little kid.”

“Which one?”

“I … hmm.…” He dug his hands in his pocket. “That's weird. I can picture it. There were puppets. They taught letters and numbers and stuff. But I don't remember the name of the show.” Because that show hadn't been broadcast in 150 years.

What was going on?

“Wow. I must still be groggy from that long nap today,” he said.

“Yeah. You should get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow will be hectic.”

Gentle as if he were holding a kitten, Wyck reached for my face and planted a soft kiss on the top of my forehead.

He backed away slowly, and I gave into a sudden odd urge to hug him.

He hugged me back, and for a split second, his arms felt like Finn's.

 

chapter 15

I'D LIED
to
WYCK
.

Okay, there were a lot of things I'd lied to Wyck about. But this one, I kind of wished I'd told the truth.

The trick to a successful Shift, especially when you have no idea what's on the other end of the space-time continuum, is to look nonchalant and relaxed even if your insides have vomited on themselves in terror. Fear is the fastest way to stick out. Not your clothes. Not your accent. People pick up on fear without even realizing what they're detecting. They're more likely to ask if you need help or directions or a tonic for your weak constitution and color. (Dang you, snooty French Impressionists.)

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, maintaining a casual stance, as I waited for Wyck at the entrance of ICE's Headquarters. Red-clothed workers gave me hasty but not unfriendly nods as they shuffled past me. I mentally ran over the checklist of objects stowed in my pocket one last time.

Flashlight, check. Stunner, check. Wyck's hair, magno-grappling hook, black mask, invisible paint sprayer. Checkity-check-check.

Also a decent props list for a long-overdue Batman reboot.

There was no telling what waited for me at the end of that black tube (other than creepy, frozen bodies) but I wanted to be prepared, no matter what. I tightened the anti-grav belt cinched under my shirt for good measure.

I checked my Com. Wyck was three minutes late. Not a big deal, but it didn't help my uneasiness over how much this plan depended on him. My thumb was on my speakeazy when Wyck came up behind me and tapped my shoulder.

“Hey.” He looked back at the Pod from which he must have just emerged.

“Hey.” I tried to make eye contact to gauge how he was feeling about the Shift, but he kept his gaze trained away from me.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said. “Were you, umm”—he watched the Pod as it zoomed away—“were you waiting long?”

“Not at all.” My eyelid twitched as I lied. My tell. But Wyck wasn't even looking at me.

“We should probably go inside.” Wyck flipped his newly assigned Com open and shut a few times. This wasn't like him to be scared of, well, anything.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

“Fine.” He finally looked directly at me. “Let's get this over with.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Not good.

Six months ago, I would have welcomed the news that he no longer wanted to Shift. But today? Today, I needed him to get his butt out of this time so I could get mine down that black tube.