Still Point (29 page)

I smiled because he looked sincere, but I knew he was just trying to take some of the weight off my mind.

“I'm serious,” he said. “Have I ever let you down?”

“No,” I admitted.

“I'll figure something out,” he said. His eyes met mine, and I could see there was an idea taking root behind them. “But what if I need you to help me out?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“Promise you won't get mad?” he asked.

I laughed. “Why would I be mad at you for helping?”

“Just promise me,” he said.

“I don't think you can make me mad,” I told him honestly. His smile faded and he looked back at the fire.

“Okay, no more DS downer talk tonight.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I'm the president of the fun committee,” he announced.

I looked over at him. “The fun committee? When did that start?”

“About four seconds ago,” he said. He handed me a metal roasting fork and set a bag of marshmallows in front of me. I took the fork and examined it like I was looking at a medical instrument for the first time.

“Haven't you ever roasted one of these?” he asked.

“Of course I have,” I lied.

I picked a marshmallow out of the bag and stabbed it with the end of the fork. I held it inside the largest flame, and in an instant the marshmallow caught fire. I yanked it back and tried to blow out the flame, and I was left with a giant piece of black, flaky ash. I examined it with a frown. The sight was far from appetizing. I pulled off the ash shell to where it was raw underneath.

I looked at Jax, and he leaned his head to the side, watching me.

I pulled the salvaged remains off with my fingers and ate the sticky sweetness.

I tried a second marshmallow. Instead of placing it directly inside the flames, this time I held it slightly outside the fire. But the flames danced and licked the sides and the marshmallow erupted in a blaze. I pulled it back and blew out the orange flame devouring my snack.

Jax handed me another one and I tried again.

“Put it next to the coals,” he pointed out. “The flame just devours it. You'll burn it every time.”

I tried holding it over the coals and turning it like Jax was doing, but it took forever. I wanted it
now
. I inched the marshmallow closer to the flames, and it lit on fire again.

“Crapsticks,” I said, and Jax grabbed the fork out of my hands.

“You're fired,” he said.

“I can't keep it away from the flames,” I complained.

“No kidding. That's your problem.”

I sat back on my hands and motioned for him to explain.

“You need to learn patience. Try it.” He handed me a s'more he had made, and I took a bite. The marshmallow was a layer of warm sugary fluff. The melted milk chocolate oozed around the sides, and the graham cracker held it together with a crunchy crust.

“Wow,” I moaned. “That is amazing. Teach me.” I licked each of my fingers.

“First call me master,” he said.

“You wish,” I said.

He smiled. “The secret is, stay away from the flames.” He looked at me to make sure I was registering this. “I get that fire's exciting. But it's too intense. All it does is burn things up, turn them to ashes, and leave the middle raw.”

I narrowed my eyes as he pointed back to the pit, to the red coals sleeping beneath the flames.

“The trick is to go underneath,” he said. “To the coals. You won't get charred.” He fixed his eyes on mine. “It might take a couple of burns to realize the coals are where you want to be. And you know what else?” He leaned a couple of inches closer to me. “The coals are even hotter than the flames,” he said.

“Thanks for the advice,” I told him.

“Anytime,” he said.

I slowly rotated my marshmallow like it was on a rotisserie. I was careful to keep it away from the consuming flames. The coals tanned it on all sides until it was golden brown. It practically dripped off the fork when I slid it onto the graham cracker. I took a bite and let out a moan.

“Good?” he asked.

“Perfect,” I said, admiring my dessert. “You were right. About the marshmallow,” I clarified.

 

I woke up to the cold morning air brushing the tip of my nose. Dawn tinted the sky a light pinkish gray. There was a murmur of distant voices, and I leaned my head up. I blinked a few times, forgetting where I was for a second. Clare and Gabe were curled up together in sleeping bags on the ground. I could smell the smoky drifts of campfires. I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and heard someone stir next to me. I looked over and saw Jax passed out a few inches away. We were sharing a blanket.

He had a hood wrapped around his head and was facing me, his body curled in tight to stay warm. His eyes were hidden under his hood—I could just make out the tips of his lashes—but I knew from his long, slow breaths that he was asleep.

I rolled over and shut my eyes. I wasn't sure what bothered me more, my falling asleep next to Jax two nights in a row or Justin's not coming to look for me two nights in a row.

I could feel Jax's body heat close to me under the blanket, as if he were a tiny human furnace. He shifted and stretched out and his arm rested against the middle of my back. I froze from the contact. I didn't move away. I liked the constant heat.

Considering the claim that the digital school vote would be unanimous, voters were taking their time making decisions. By ten the next morning, only five states had voted.

The digital screens along the courthouse listed the voting returns like a scoreboard. So far four states had voted in favor of keeping digital school a federal law and one state had voted against it.

Protests were rising around the country, in parking lots and parks and warehouses and anywhere people could gather. Rioters who couldn't get out to Portland were still making a statement, even if it meant sticking a sign out in their yards.

Clare and I walked around the food tents, but I was too anxious to eat. I noticed Jax standing with a group of guys. They were talking to a reporter, a young woman who was smiling and seeming to enjoy all the attention. She adjusted a camera badge clipped to her blazer that was filming the interview.

Jax waved when he noticed me, and I walked over as one of his friends was finishing an interview question.

“I thought you were going to hang back,” I told him.

“I promised to help you out,” he reminded me.

“Okay, your turn,” the reporter said to Jax, and he turned to face her. “What is so great about your
real
world?”

“Getting to know the people,” Jax said.

“You can get to know people online,” the reporter argued.

“It's not the same,” Jax said.

“How is it any different?” she asked. “What can you do in your real world that you can't do online?”

His eyes passed over his friends and settled on mine.

“For starters, this,” Jax said, and he yanked my hand and pulled me close to him.

Before I could react, he lifted my head in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his mouth against mine, hard, in case I tried to pull away. His warm lips covered mine, and something like thunder echoed around us. He kissed me like he was scooping my lips up with his, and I stopped breathing. My fingers relaxed and then they clung to his waist and instead of pushing him away, I squeezed his shirt in my hands. His mouth fit perfectly against mine; his lips absorbed every piece of me, like a million little hands holding on to me, until I let myself kiss him back. He was putting more than just his lips into the kiss; he used his entire body. He wrapped his hands tighter around me, digging his fingers into my shoulders and pulling me so close our chests compressed. He opened his mouth, and for just a moment I let it happen. I opened my mouth and breathed him in. I could smell wind and campfire in his skin. I kissed him back. I sucked his hot breath and felt his tongue trace against mine before I dug my hands between our chests and pushed him away.

When he let me go, the sound of cheering crashed around us. I was so lightheaded I had to lean on Jax to get my breath back. People screamed so wildly I almost thought we had won the vote, but they were screaming at us, jumping around like we were inside a mosh pit. The reporter was saying something, but I couldn't hear her over the crowd.

The cheering started to settle down, and Jax smiled. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright, reflecting yellow sunlight.

I stepped away and he dropped his arm from my elbow. “Brilliant plan,” I mumbled through tight lips.

He wiped his mouth with a bashful grin.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Sometimes you have to take one for the team.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You are not sorry.”

“You promised you wouldn't be mad,” he reminded me, and his smile faded. “Are you?”

I ignored his question.

“I'd hire a bodyguard,” I warned him. “Justin's going to pummel you.”

He smirked. “No he's not. He was too busy to notice.” Jax nodded toward the tents. I looked over and Justin was there, in a huddle with Shawn and Megan, deep in conversation. He hadn't noticed.

“That's the problem, isn't it?” He waited until I met his dark, thoughtful eyes. “He's always too busy to notice.” Jax broadened his shoulders. “Well, I'm not.”

I dropped my gaze and looked back at Justin, surrounded by a steady swarm of followers.

“He sees you as part of the cause, Madeline,” Jax said. “I see
you.
”

I felt anger rise and scatter through my core, all the way to my toes. I pushed Jax back.

“Is this funny to you?” I demanded. “Is everything a joke?”

“No,” he said, his face serious.

I shoved him again. “You were just a contact, get it? You were a recruit—that's it. You were one day out of my life, just a random drop-by.” I raised my hands in the air. “This was never part of the plan.”

Jax gave me a crooked smile, and I realized he smiled like that when he was looking under the surface, when he was seeing
me.

“Leave me alone,” I warned him, and backed away. I pressed my fingers against my lips, still tingling from the kiss.

“Look!” somebody yelled, and hands pointed to the digital scroll over the stage. The numbers next to DS were plummeting. The number of dropouts was climbing so quickly, it changed every time I blinked.

The crowd exploded in cheers. I watched Justin's reaction; he blinked at the scroll like he was imagining it. He looked in our direction and smiled. We had more supporters than ever. The number of DS Dropouts grew and continued to spiral.

I looked back at the votes. DS: 1,212,224; DS Dropouts: 5,432,535.

I couldn't believe it. Jax's plan had worked. One single kiss changed the entire swing of the riot. It started the wave we had needed all along.

“Crapsticks,” I muttered. Clare caught my arm.

“Well, Justin didn't see that, but the rest of the nation did,” she said.

“It was just a publicity stunt,” I said. Clare had a trace of a grin on her face.

“Maybe you should start practicing saying those two really hard words,” she told me.

I nodded. “I'm sorry,” I said.

She shook her head. “No. It's over,” she said. “That's what you need to say to him. ‘It's over.' Your heart's somewhere else, Maddie.”

I kneaded my knuckles against my forehead. This was the last thing I could deal with right then, at the brink of the vote announcement. I could taste Jax on my lips, sweet and warm and familiar.

I hated that Jax was right, that I needed to kiss somebody else before I understood how feelings could range. I had to fight so hard to have a small piece of Justin, and Jax opened up and gave me everything. I knew that I deserved everything. People can't offer you a piece; they need to offer themselves whole, or you will always be asking for more, wishing for more. A piece is never enough.

By noon the tally was 48–8. Digital school needed four more votes to secure the win. Though each state gets two votes, both votes go to the side that wins the majority of votes. It's winner takes all. The sky was clouding up, and so were people's moods. When you lose, when you see there will be no victory lap, it gets personal. It becomes suffocating.

Inside the locked, guarded courthouse, strangers who didn't know any of us proceeded to determine our futures and didn't offer us the chance to speak. They didn't even offer us their opinions. At 12:30 p.m. the voting updates were announced: 66–10. We had lost.

The crowd stared up at the numbers and waited. We watched commentary videos from inside the courthouse, celebrating the victory. I watched a video on Clare's flipscreen.

“Is there anything you'd like to say to the protesters?” a reporter asked one of the committee members, who was drinking a glass of champagne.

“Yes.” He looked directly at the lens, as if he could see us through the camera. “You can't fight technology. You have to embrace it. Technology will always win. Digital school is the best thing that's ever happened to this country. It's like electricity and clean water. It makes the world a safer place. You don't pass up these discoveries. You don't back away from improvements in our lives. You thank people for inventing them. Now it's time to go home. This is over.”

A group of guys climbed up on one of the concrete wave sculptures along the riverbank. It started to rock from the weight, and when more people climbed up, the wave cracked. It came down in a shattering concrete pile. People picked up smashed pieces and hurled them at the building. Cops were heading down the steps, aiming their guns at the crowd. Clare and I ran over to Scott and Justin, who were trying to calm people down.

I didn't want to calm down. I wanted to throw something. I moved in the rioters' direction and Justin stopped me. He grabbed my hand.