The Pentrals (21 page)

Thomas runs over to me, face flushed. “Hey,” he says. I kick at the ground, guiltily pushing my interest in Ben aside. I cannot let my unexplained attachment to him overpower my interactions with the boy I’m supposed to be in love with. Thomas sees my shamed face and misreads it as sadness. “What’s going on?” he asks with concern.

This gives me the perfect opening. “I’ve just been thinking about Mary a lot.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Is that why you’ve been acting weird lately?”

His assessment both surprises and disappoints me. This is the first time since jumping into my Person’s body that Thomas has made any mention of my behavior. Even Ben has pointed out my being a bit off, but Thomas has stayed true in his unwavering affection for me. But perhaps he’s been fooling himself, trying to believe that everything is okay even though he suspects otherwise.

“I thought we were past this, Violet,” he continues. “You can’t run away and disappear every time—“

“I know,” I interrupt. I’m not looking for a rehash of the art studio argument. “It’s just, I found out some things she never told me, and it’s been bothering me.”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Like, experiments. Projects she was working on.” I am purposely vague, seeing where he will take the conversation.

“Ugh, her science stuff? I don’t think any of us could ever understand that part of her life.”

“So, she never talked to you about it?”

Thomas laughs. “No. Even if she did, it’s not like I could follow.” I search his eyes, looking for any evidence of his involvement. But they are as clear as the lenses that frame his face.

It is pointless to question him any further. Like Violet and Ben, Thomas and Mary were friends, but did not share much of their lives with each other. The Alliance was the bond that held them together, not every personal detail was shared. I press my face into his sweaty shirt as he runs his fingers through my red hair.

“Don’t disappear on me,” Thomas whispers, his chin resting on top of my head. “Whatever is bothering you, we can make it through together.”

Oh sweet Thomas
, I think.
If only that were true.

* * 27 * *

T
homas gives me a ride home, spending extra time nuzzling my neck and running his hand up and down my legs. I’m distracted, uninterested in his advances. I guess my excuse about Mary has temporarily diffused any fear he harbored about his girlfriend pulling away, but I’m worried about the holes in my performance. I thought I was a fairly convincing Violet—if anyone should be able to duplicate her mannerisms, it would be her Shadow—but I guess more Antares slipped through than intended. Besides my interactions with Ben, I wonder if anyone else has seen cracks in my surface.

When we pull into Violet’s driveway, there is an extra carpod parked out front.

“Does your mom have a friend over?” Thomas asks, coming up for air.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think she had any friends,” I answer.

“That’s not nice,” he says with a small frown. I wasn’t trying to be insulting, just stating a fact. How can someone make friends if she rarely leaves her bedroom?

“I just haven’t seen her be social in a while, that’s all.”

“Do you want me to come in?” He gives what is meant to be an innocent smile, but he’s not the only one clued onto tricks. Clearly, he wants this snuggle fest to continue upstairs, but if I haven’t convinced him of my loving ways by now, an extra make-out session will not make things right.

“I’m actually pretty tired. All that time spent watching you run really wore me out.” I kiss his forehead gently, feeling the muscles in his face fall in disappointment. “See you tomorrow,” I say, trying to make a quick exit. But he holds onto me to for a moment longer before finally bringing himself to let me go. Something in his grasp makes me think he’s only truly comfortable when I’m nearby. As if when I wander away, I take his security along with me. The trust Thomas has in his girlfriend is not completely built on solid ground.

I want to pose this to Violet, but when I walk inside I find Benjamin Kelly waiting on the couch.

“Honey, you’re home,” he says in a sing-song voice.

My heart jumps into my throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Your mom let me in. She looks… great, by the way.” Ben rolls his eyes in sarcasm.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I saw you at practice and it looked like you wanted to see me.” He takes a confident step forward.

“Um, cocky much?” I respond, trying to stand my ground, even though I feel weak in the knees.

“Am I wrong?”

He’s got me there. I did want to see him, but not for reasons he’d suspect. “Well, I did want to talk to you.”

“Mmm hmm. About?” He inches closer.

“Your sister.”

“Oh.” Ben steps back, deflated, his smile tipping downward. Man, two boys shot down in less than ten minutes. Has to be some sort of record.

“Come upstairs. I want to show you something.” This reignites his interest. He playfully raises an eyebrow and lets his curiosity catapult him up to Violet’s bedroom. Ben plops on the bed and sprawls out on the white fluffy linens. The room is dark except for the constant blue glow of the room’s holopane. As I watch him get comfortable, I’m suddenly overcome with another pang of
déjà vu
, like if I were to lie next to him right now, it wouldn’t be the first time. Currently he’s still, yet in my memory he’s anything but, and I’m right there beside him. It seems so natural for him to be here, though I’m certain Ben’s never been up in Violet’s room. I take a minute to let the familiar feeling fade back to wherever it came from, then grab Mary’s journal from under the bed.

I hand him the book, being careful not to touch his hand and set off the spark. I don’t trust myself after the vision I just had. “Read this,” I instruct.

He hesitates at first, unsure of how to handle what is essentially an artifact. He thumbs through the pages, slowly trying to digest words from a page and not a screen. But he keeps at it. I watch his dark eyes scan his sister’s thoughts, his caramel-colored fingers flipping the creamy white parchment. I know the journey he’s taking through her entries has to be awkward. Brothers probably don’t give much thought to their sisters’ self-images, and it’s impossible to know how Ben’s Reflection has treated him. What does he see when he looks in the mirror every day? Will he be open to her theories of mirripulation, ideas this Pentral knows to be true? Or did Mary already confide in him and he’s currently reliving her quest? For my sake, I hope he does know something. He’s my last hope.

Finally, he closes the journal shut. “God, she is annoying,” he declares.

“What?” I laugh out of surprise. It’s not exactly the assessment I expected.

Ben throws his hand up in mock frustration. “Even in a coma, Mary is more impressive than me.”

I smile. This kind of ribbing is the foundation of their sibling relationship. I’m glad he’s trying to keep things light rather than shutting down. I was right to bring him into this.

“So, beside her obvious superiority over you, what did you think?” I ask.

“Well, it’s a lot. On the one hand, it seems totally insane to think what I see, what we all see, in the mirror is some sort of hoax. I’m not really sure how that’d be possible.” I sit down on the bed next to him. He stays in his own space, concentrating on his thoughts. “On the other hand, it makes perfect sense. Everyone in this town always seems so miserable. And that’s coming from someone who has legitimate reasons to be depressed.”

Ben has had so much to overcome. Losing his natural family, integrating into a new family, losing family again—I am in awe of his perseverance. I spend a few minutes looking at his eyes, remembering how cold they were not too long ago, and how open and warm they seem right now. Then I realize I’m staring when I should be saying something back.

“Um, right,” I stammer. “I believe in Mary and her work. I want to continue it, but I don’t know how to do it or where to find the glasses she was working on.”

I watch as it dawns on Ben the purpose of our accessories hunt awhile back. “I wish I knew more,” he starts. “As dorky as this sounds, Mary and I usually told each other everything, but she kept this from me. From her writing, it seemed like this whole thing was just completely consuming her. I wish she would have opened up.” He looks down at the bed, flicking at the comforter’s stitching.

“Well, she didn’t tell me either. I only just found out about this. Plus a lot of other stuff.”

“Like what?” he asks, looking back at me.

“Like, who could be behind it. The mirripulation.” I stop, feeling anxious at revealing my suspect. What will Ben think? He’s been with me so far, but how will he feel about me accusing the sweetheart of Talline?

His eyes widen in anticipation. “Well? Spill it, super sleuth!”

I take a deep breath. “I think it’s Celestia Sky.”

Ben is quiet for some time. He stays very still, trying to match my words to his knowledge base. I feel like I could explode waiting for his response. Finally, he nods his head. “Yes.”

I lie back, relieved. “You think?”

“Yes!” He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. His face becomes more and more animated as the wheels continue to turn. “You know, she and my dad are pretty close. I see her all the time, and not just on the holopane. One time she was at our house and almost lost it after I made some jackass comment about some woman who did a guest segment on one of Celestia’s shows. Something about how Celestia better watch her back, because that girl was really cute and talented. You should have seen her face. I thought fire was going to shoot out of her eyes. You can be damned sure Celestia wants to be the most beautiful, most beloved person in all Talline, and messing up people’s Reflections would surely help keep her on top.”

“Exactly! And she seems to control the holopanes too. I hardly ever see other Persons projected up there. If she let other people on the screen, they’d see themselves as they really are, and she can’t have that. No clear mirrors, no photographs, no 3D images: people have no way to see themselves. And that’d suit her just fine. She only wants them to see her visual perfection.”

“Yeah well, Celestia’s hot and all, but I wouldn’t say she’s visual perfection. At least not to me,” Ben says, blushing slightly.

I want to hug him and almost do. I turn my body toward his. There are only a few inches between us. But for all his presumptuous flirting, Ben maintains a safe distance. He looks at me lying beside him, and carefully pushes back a strand of my hair. It tingles at the follicle.

“Violet, what is going on between us?” he asks in hushed voice.

“I… I don’t know,” I say. But part of me does know. Having him so close… I can’t say I’m against it. We’re not even touching and yet the space between us is positively electric.

“What would Thomas say if he walked in right now?”

I press my lips together in an embarrassed frown. He’s right. What would Thomas say, seeing his girl and best friend lying in a bed together? What am I even doing? In a matter of hours, the Class Fours will be here to execute their judgment, to decide the rest of my Pentral fate—being here with this boy is not only pointless, it’s selfish. I have no right to have these feelings or to manipulate his. What will happen when Violet’s back in her body and not seeking out Ben’s companionship? He’ll be crushed, and I’ll be there on the ground to witness his pain.

We both stand up, being careful not to look at each other. Ben brushes his hands over his clothes, as if he were trying to wipe away the guilt of what could have happened. He heads toward the door, but turns back before leaving.

“I’ll help you, Violet, with this mirror stuff, in any way I can.” He pauses, searching for the kindest way to let me down. “But I can’t do this, no matter how much I want to.”

I nod, and listen to him walk downstairs and drive away. I slump to the floor, and Violet slides up next to me, touching her form to my lifeless hand.

“You like him, don’t you?” she says with sympathy. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep any tears away. Yes, I like him. All this time, I couldn’t figure out why I felt so different around him, why he could stir something up inside me that no one else could. It took him saying no for me to realize I wanted the answer to be yes.

“But you know he’s right, right?” Violet adds. I rest my cheek on my bent knees, wondering if I can curl my body into the size of the hole in my heart. Of course he’s right. But that doesn’t mean it feels good.

Violet and I sit in silence, my back to the mirror, so only my thoughts are reflected back to me.

If this is love
, I think,
I can’t wait to lose my sense of feeling again
.

* * 28 * *

O
ne day. Twenty four hours left to expose the Reflections’ betrayal of their Pentral duties. Although I now have Ben on my side, his lack of information leaves me with nothing, no trail to follow, no light at the end of the tunnel. I am running out of time and don’t know what to do next.

The school is buzzing with excitement for tomorrow’s Festival of Light and tonight’s kick-off fireworks show. As a Shadow, the hallways overload my consciousness with unwanted thoughts as other Class Twos overlap with my outline, a constant stream of random blabbering that I cannot switch off. Now is not much different. I overhear snippets of conversations, Persons making plans for the weekend’s entertainment, happily expressing their anticipation, but I wish I could mute the entire student body. I don’t want to hear their laughter, or hang on the outside of anticipation. Everyone around me is full of cheer but dread consumes me.

I am so lost in my thoughts I do not notice Samantha barreling at me from my right, shoving me into the girls’ bathroom. Two surprised freshmen shriek as I come tumbling in, head smacking on the mirrored wall.

“Leave,” Sam scowls at them as they scurry out.

The way the mirrors are angled gives the illusion there are several of us, an infinite pattern of Samanthas and Violets, but we are alone. My Reflection, swollen as ever and now slightly bruised, repeats over and over, adding to my apprehension. Since I’ve taken residence in my Person’s body, I’ve done my best to avoid Sam, so where is this anger coming from? What does she want with me?