Mindspeak (14 page)

“Be reasonable, Cathy,” John said. “He’s
safe at Wellington. And he can watch for anything out of the ordinary.”

“You mean he can watch after her.”

“Yes. I promised Peter.”

“You promised Peter,” she repeated.
“That’s rich, John. You’re not doing this for Peter,” Cathy said through what
sounded like gritted teeth. “You’re doing this for
her
.”

A loud sound like the slamming of a
book from inside the room made me jump. Was I the “her” she referred to?

“Don’t you dare bring
her
into this,” John said. “You knew what marrying me meant. Don’t stand there and
pretend to be the hurt housewife.”

“Why not? She has everything to do
with this. When was the last time anyone heard from her? How do you know she’s
not responsible for bringing Peter back to the states? Or for killing him?”
Cathy let out an exasperated laugh that had nothing but fury behind it.

“You know damn well she would never
have killed Peter.” John’s voice grew softer for every octave Cathy raised
hers.

Who was Cathy talking about? I
directed my thoughts at her. Ordered her to tell me more.

Get mad, Cathy. Who are you
talking about?
The warm trickle of blood tickled my upper lip, but I didn’t
care.
Tell John why Jack shouldn’t be near Lexi. It has everything to do
with “her,” doesn’t it? Tell John who you’re talking about.

“Have you given consideration as to
why Peter was killed?” Cathy’s voice had quieted, but the intensity was still
there. “Don’t you think it’s strange that you received a threat the same week Peter
showed up on our doorstep?”

Dr. DeWeese was threatened?
It’s
because of “her,” isn’t it, Cathy?

“I’ve thought of nothing else,”
John said so softly I had to strain my ears. “We have to find those journals. Everything’s
going to be fine once we do.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Nothing
is going to be fine. You have to tell Jack. You have to tell him, and then you’re
going to have to tell Lexi about Sandra.”

“Don’t you dare speak her name.”
John’s voice was quick and furious. “Don’t say it again.”

“Why, John? Are you going to hurt
me?” Cathy’s voice was again strained. Was Dr. DeWeese hurting her? “Don’t you
see? This is Sandra all over again.”

“What has gotten into you? This is
not like you.”

A silence passed. I said her name
over and over inside my mind.
Sandra. Sandra. Sandra
.

“I think that’s enough of the
dramatics for today,” John said.

“You’re right.” Cathy sounded
stunned that she had said way more than she meant. “I still don’t want Jack
near Lexi. Not yet. It’s not safe.”

“Leave it alone for now. It’s not
like we can forbid him. He’s already eighteen, and fully capable of running if
he thinks it necessary. Let’s see what comes out in the papers in the next few
days and what the investigators find.”

“How did Jack figure out who she
was anyway?” For the first time since I met Cathy, she sounded tired.

Now, for the first time since
meeting the DeWeeses, I wanted to find the journals before anyone else did.

~~~~

Anita was arranging pastries and
bagels on a platter when I stormed into the kitchen. “Lexi, everything okay?”

I stopped suddenly, and swiped a
tissue under my nose one final time insuring my nosebleed had stopped. Jack sipped
coffee at the breakfast table by the windows on the other side of the room.
Did
everyone rise early in this house?

Jack smirked for some reason, then
narrowed his eyes.

What?
I squeezed my nose
again with the tissue. The bleeding had stopped.

“Would you like some breakfast,
Lexi?” Jack asked.

“I could make you an omelet,” Anita
offered. “Or some tea?” A silent message passed between Anita and Jack.

I surveyed the counter. “Um… tea
would be great. Thank you.” Unusually bashful, I approached Jack slowly and
slid into a chair across from him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

My eyes wandered toward Anita, who
steeped a tea bag into a cup and then back to Jack. “Fine, why?” Could I talk
to Jack in front of Anita? Should I ask him why Cathy hates me? Or about
Sandra?

Suddenly, Jack knocked over a glass
of orange juice. It formed a river that ran right into my lap.

I pushed away from the table. Anita
came running with a clean towel. “No use crying over spilled orange juice,” she
said.

An uncomfortable chuckle escaped my
mouth as I continued to wipe my jeans. “Maybe I should ask
you
if
you’re
okay,” I said to Jack.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice
suddenly edgy.

Anita wiped the table, lifting
plates and silverware. “Can I get you more juice?” she asked Jack.

He shook his head. He shifted his
dark eyes on me. “What’s with the nosebleed so early in the morning?” He poured
himself another cup of coffee from a carafe. His tone sounded angry, which
confused me.

I was unsure whether to tell him
what I had just overheard. His mood seemed strange, like it had changed since I
stormed into the kitchen. “It’s just a nosebleed. I’m fine.” After a final wipe
of my jeans, I tossed the towel on the counter. “I’m going to go change. When
do you want to go back to school?”

“You want to go back today?” he
asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just thought you would want some
time.” He sat his coffee down. “Sit for a second.” He pushed the chair out with
his foot.

Anita left the room. I pressed my
hand against my nervous stomach, but then took a seat.

“The dean said to take a couple of
days.”

“I don’t want a couple of days.” I glanced
over my shoulder to verify we were alone. “I appreciate what you did for me
last night…” A shoulder to cry on. A consoling kiss. A get-together in the
barn.

Jack slid his hand under mine and
rubbed my fingers with his thumb. “But...?”

“But I need to get back to school.
I have things I need to take care of.”

“Like what? What can’t wait?” His
eyes drilled into mine.

I shifted in my chair. “Stuff.”
Lots of it.

“What kind of stuff?”

“I don’t answer to you, Jack.” Retracting
my hand, I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, exasperated.

He stared at me. “No, you don’t.
But I thought we were… friends.”

I stood. “I don’t mean to hurt you,
Jack, but I’ve known you all of a week.” He winced at my words. I pushed two
fingers into my temple and rubbed. “And a lot has happened since then.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.
When I met his eyes again, he couldn’t have appeared more hurt. I fought
through the lump in my throat. “I’m confused, Jack.” I didn’t know what else to
say. “I just need to go back to school.”

With that, I turned and shot out of
the room, thankful not to run into Cathy.

Chapter
Twelve

The rest of the day was business as
usual—swim practice, a full day of classes, work in the library, avoiding all
grief and any thoughts of the chilly ride back to school. Jack hadn’t spoken to
me since he dropped me off at the girls’ dorm that morning.

That was fine with me, or at least
that was the lie I was telling myself.

Yeah, business as usual until I turned
the corner out of the dinner line to face a group of seniors arguing over
tacos. Kyle gripped a handful of the shirt of Wellington’s best soccer player.
Tom’s face was as red as the bowl of salsa on the table in front of him, and
Kyle dared him to repeat whatever it was he had said.

“Hey, what’s going on?” I yelled, sidling
up beside them. Kyle did not relax his grip. The creepiest of smirks spread
across Tom’s face.

Danielle pushed back from the
table, grabbed her tray and approached me. “Come on. It’s just a stupid fight.
Let’s go sit outside.”

“She’s going to hear it eventually,”
Tom said.

“Shut up, man,” another guy at the
table said. “Show some class.”

Kyle pulled Tom closer then shoved
him backward, letting go. “You’re such a jerk.”

Tom fell backwards over the chair,
landing on the floor. Mr. Keiser, the physics teacher, came running over. “What
is going on here?”

Danielle tugged on my arm. “Come
on. Let’s get out of here.”

We passed by the food line just as
Jack came around the corner. He lifted his chin in a silent hello. He seemed to
assess the situation behind me. Danielle pulled me on.

We carried our trays outside to the
picnic tables behind the cafeteria. It was a nice night. A comfortable breeze rustled
the plastic peeking beneath the trash can lid. Two other groups of classmates
surrounded tables at the other end of the patio extending the length of the
dining hall.

“Want to tell me what that was
about?” I asked, sprinkling toppings inside my chicken soft taco.

She just stared at me. Her cheeks
drooped.

“What? About my dad? The tabloids?
I already know what the trash media is saying, Danielle.”

“You’re not upset?” she asked,
playing with the corner of her napkin. “You know… that they know who your dad
was?”

“It was just a matter of time before
our wonderful classmates figured things out and formed opinions. I can’t stop
that. My dad was who he was.” My voice cracked. I couldn’t blame them for
forming opinions. Not even I was immune to disagreeing with Dad. “I don’t want
to talk about any of that tonight, okay?” I had cried enough.

She smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
She pushed my tray closer. “Now eat.”

“Yes, mom.” I dolloped sour cream
across my taco.

I didn’t want to talk about what
the tabloids were saying because I was frightened they were right. What if my
dad had been producing cloned human beings for years? I already knew he
supported the altering of embryos’ DNA. What if he was producing deformed and
diseased monsters he would later have to destroy? What if I was one of those
monsters?

I shuddered at the thought of an
innocent child being born with no arms, or only one eye. Or what if the baby appeared
normal only to be plagued with illness his entire life—a faulty heart or
kidneys that didn’t work? How could my dad do something so controlling and
thoughtless? So completely god-like, but without love or compassion for life?

Then there was Jack and me. I still
wasn’t sure what we were. How had our minds had been tweaked? Did that mean my
dad had created me without love?

If Dad did what the tabloids were
saying, would that make him a monster? I shuddered. I had to find whatever
proof was out there before that proof fell into the wrong hands. I had to know.
Although I was fairly sure I didn’t want anyone else to know the truth.

“So, roomie,” Danielle started,
interrupting my thoughts. “Tell me what’s going on with you and Mr. Six-Pack-Abs.”
She swirled a tortilla chip in the air, dripping salsa on the table.

I spooned a rather large bite of
guacamole in my mouth. “Nuuuhhing,” I mumbled, and green goo must have shown
through my teeth, because Danielle scrunched up her nose and turned away
laughing.

“Euwww,” she said. “You’re so
gross. But effective in changing the subject.”

I laughed. And it felt good. Grief
followed me around all weekend. This was the first meal I actually felt like
eating without throwing up.

“Don’t look now,” Danielle said,
bowing her head in my direction. “Mr. Hot Abs at twelve o’clock.” Her lips twitched
into a sly smile. Her eyes roamed past me over my shoulder. “Holy cow.” Danielle
shot up like she had just spilled her drink. “What happened to you?”

I rotated in my seat and lost my
appetite again when I saw blood streaming down Jack’s face. I knew the mark of
a fist when I saw one.

~~~~

I dabbed gauze against a cut
dangerously close to Jack’s left eye. We sat in chairs outside Coach Williams’
office by the swimming pool. The reflections of the water danced in his eyes.

He smelled so good, even over the
strong scent of chlorine, as I leaned into him and studied the injury.
Think
of something to say,
I told myself.
Anything.
“You need ice.” I
bowed my head and rummaged through the first-aid kit.

Jack smiled. He watched my every
move. His head dipped when mine did. His eyes were directed at mine whenever I risked
a look at him. He wanted to kiss me, and I wasn’t completely sure I didn’t want
him to. Why did I feel like he saw straight through me? Reading my mind even?

“You gonna fight every one of my
fights, bro?” I asked. He winced. Whether it was from the pain when I applied
antibiotic ointment or from the title I gave him, I couldn’t be sure.

He glared at me with his one good
eye. “I’m warning you, Lexi. Don’t call me that.”

I reached across him and grabbed a
couple of butterfly bandages from the first aid kit.

Just as I chalked the uncomfortable
tingle in my belly up to the two bites I’d managed to swallow of refried beans,
Jack grabbed my arm and stopped me from pulling backwards. I concentrated on
his good eye, which was a vivid blue tonight.

“You know you won’t be able to fight
what’s going on here forever.” With his other hand, he pointed back and forth
between us.

I thought my heart might implode. “And
exactly what do we have going on here, Jack?” My words came out a little
snippier than I had planned. “You are the son of my new legal guardian. You’ve
sworn to watch over me while investigators do their thing. I’ve known you all
of three minutes.” I sucked in a deep breath. “And someone killed my father.
This isn’t Romeo and Juliet.” Although his mother did say she didn’t want Jack
anywhere near me.