Twist (13 page)

“I know what you're thinking, but it's part time, at a care facility—for a specific patient.” Her mom put the glass down. “That nursing agency I worked for called me. I was referred to them.”

“That's awesome, Mrs. Gray,” I said.

“I'm on the mend!” she said with excitement.

But Amilee had a strange look on her face. “So they called you?”

“Yes, what's wrong with that?”

“I think you're more paranoid then me,” I said to Amilee.

“When do you start?” Amilee knelt down, attacking the spilled soda with a sponge.

“
I'm training first,” she said. “It's a special-needs case, and I have to study some treatment plans. Tuesdays and Thursdays for the next two weeks, and then if I pass . . .”

Amilee was strangely quiet as she finished cleaning up the soda.

“What's the boy's name?” her mom said to me.

“Grant,” I answered. “Supposed to go out this Friday.”

Later that evening, in Amilee's room I asked her, “Are you worried about your mom?”

“More than I can say,” she said. “She hasn't been good at taking care of herself.”

“When we were in grammar school I used to want to be just like her,” I said. “She was always put together so well. She used to boss your dad around, too.”

“That might have been part of the problem,” Amilee said. “I never thought she'd wind up this way. But she's staying sober, at least for now.”

“I think this job is a good thing,” I said. “You watch, she'll be back to her old self, soon.”

“I hope so,” Amilee said. “What about tomorrow with the FBI. Are you worried?”

I groaned. “I never know what to expect. And I'm so uncertain about Dad.”

“I think they raked him under the coals,” she said.

“
Over
the coals . . . I think that's how it's supposed to go.”

“That leader of that militant group, the one with the name I can't pronounce, he claimed responsibility. Your dad didn't sell him that biochemical war stuff! The media is out of control. They didn't even check their facts. I believe your dad.”

Apparently
Amilee had been following my dad and all the rumors on the Internet. I read it too, when Dad was first arrested. The scientist who actually created the biobombs stepped forward and demanded that he be given credit.

“But how do you not believe the U.S. Government?” I said.

“Hello! It's not the government. It's the reporters! You never even acknowledged that your dad told me to call the FBI that day. He wanted to get caught!”

I put my hand up. “Well it was the branch of the government that I met, not the media. And I know you argued with him over calling the FBI, right? That's what you were doing behind the car when he hit you.”

“Yeah, it is what we were doing. Who wants to put her best friend's dad behind bars?” Amilee's face twisted. “Especially when he's innocent! But he insisted I call.”

“According to Dad he's making drugs not this biobomb. But I'm exhausted trying to figure it out.”

“What about the roll of cash he handed you before the FBI took him? Why don't you spend it?” she said.

“We're going to now. Let's go shopping and buy new clothes for our dates!” I knew that would get her away from the topic of my father, and Luke, and every single thing that I didn't want to worry about. Including my mom, and her brain being eaten away.

“Okay!”

“Who will be your date on Friday?” I asked.

“Hmm. I wonder if Grant has a cute friend. Somebody new,” she said.

Chapter
28

I scoured the sea of bodies after first bell, looking for Grant. Everyone was hurrying to homeroom before the second bell. Amilee's class was in the opposite direction from mine. I really wanted to find Grant, and talk to him before she did. But I had no idea where his first class was; at least we had second period together. Hopefully, I'd get to him first.

I was a wiggle worm in my first class.

“What's wrong with you?” The guy in front of me turned around. “You keep hitting my seat.”

“Sorry,” I smiled.

He grinned. “Haven't seen you do that in a while, Bea. Keep kicking me if it makes you happy.”

He didn't even get mad when the teacher called him out for talking to me.

At the bell, I did my hurry walk to the science hall, and as I turned the corner I saw Amilee flirting with Grant again. She was looking at him like he was the only person on the planet.

“Hello,” I yelled from the entrance to the hall, trying to get his attention.

Grant saw me when I got closer and put his arms out when I approached. I stepped into his embrace and he said, “You smell good.”

I squeezed him because it felt good to be in his arms.

“I'm going to fix Amilee up with Scott,” he said.

“
Isn't he your older brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, he's had a crush on Amilee for so long,” Grant said. “It's going to make his day.”

I watched Amilee scan the hallway, socializing with everyone that passed. But she completely ignored me. “Wait up,” she said to a group of girls. She yelled back at me, “I'll see you at lunch.” Then she looked at Grant, and in her sexy voice she said, “Tell Scott I can't wait.”

Scott, a quiet guy but also real strong, wasn't even her type. He'd been prepping for college since we were in grade school. He had a rich girlfriend who was a senior. She was pretty, but I think she moved away before I did. I never saw him with another girl after that. But then, I wasn't paying much attention.

Grant lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. I jerked my hand away. “Did Amilee tell you to do that?”

He nodded.

“Don't listen to her anymore.” She made me so mad, but I held my anger in. I wondered if I would feel the swirls and the pitter-patter if I kissed him, so I stood on the tips of my toes and reached up and kissed him real soft on the lips. I tasted fresh mint from his mouth—and he was a good kisser. My insides fluttered . . . sort of.

But then he pulled me up tightly and I felt his strength. “I've always liked you, Bea. Since the beginning of the school year, when I noticed you.” He kissed me again and it was forceful, but it made me feel safe.

As he eased me back down, our biology teacher nearly ran into us, just like Mr. Cooper had done that day I was with Luke.

“
Bea?” Grant said. “You're tuning out.” He snapped his fingers. “Earth to Beatrice Malcolm. Come in.”

“I had a déjà vu,” I said.

“Aha, then we are meant to be here, right now, kissing.” He embraced me and I loved the way our bodies fit together, even though he was taller than me. He lifted my chin with his fingers and kissed me softly.

“There's something about you,” I said to him.

I felt different inside, like the universe was righting itself and this tiny ray of light was shining on my soul, telling me,
You're on the right path, Bea, finally. Take your time with this one
.

But I wondered if that was simply a wish, and nothing more.

We sat down in class and I realized that Grant had always sat behind me during biology. Even on the first day of school, but this time around, he'd followed me to a different seat. “Do you notice anything different in me, from the beginning of the year?” I asked.

“I wanted you to come back to Seattle so bad,” he said. “When you finally did come back, I felt responsible.”

“For what?” I said.

“For whatever sent you home and made you even more sad. Like I manifested that because I really wanted to see you again.” He seemed to really believe that he'd created the mess in my life.

I chuckled. “You know, you really had nothing to do with the spy thriller that brought me home.”

“
Beatrice Malcolm, never under estimate the force of one. Grant Lawson, at your service.”

Force of one?

“I told you, don't listen to Amilee!” I swear she had such a big mouth, I vowed to never tell her anything again.

“What do you mean?”

“The ‘force of one'—she told you,” I said.

“Don't know what you're talking about. I always tease my little cousins with that when they want to wrestle. That's my saying.”

I turned to the front of the class and tried to focus on the lesson. But that wasn't easy. Wasn't there a movie or book or something called
A Force of One
?

There are no coincidences, Bea . . .
Uncle George's words replayed in my mind.

I made a note to google “force of one.” Then my swinging mood tree chimed in. I crossed my arms and folded myself inward. Did I like this boy or was I competing with Amilee?

I never even got to know Luke. Who even knew if I would ever see him again? Dad said he didn't have anything to do with Luke's beating, but I think he had everything to do with it.

Am I putting Grant in danger, too?

I realized I was doodling all over the page when the teacher walked down our aisle and stood next to me during the last part of his lecture. I covered the sheet of paper with my hand and the teacher raised his eyebrows at me as he said, “I hope everyone's been listening. Pull out a sheet of paper, we're having a quiz.”

The
class made a collective groan.

The teacher shouted over the grumbling. “Take the remaining five minutes and write out what you learned in class today. When you finish, you may leave.”

One girl said, “That's not a pop quiz.”

“Why fight it,” I mumbled, and then I wrote.

As you know, I recently came back to this school. Today in your class I learned that the boy who sits behind me has liked me from the first time he saw me. I thought about this during class and want to acknowledge that he might be experiencing love at first sight. As far as science is concerned, this may not be a direct reflection of your lecture, but scientific research concludes that falling in love only takes about a fifth of a second. And because you were talking about the brain, this euphoric feeling you get when you fall in love is similar to the effect of cocaine and in some cases eating chocolate—the latter being the only one that I've experienced. There are many studies on the neurological effects of falling in love. But it has yet to be determined in this particular instance if the boy, once he really gets to know the girl, will experience the release of additional dopamine in his brain. And this explanation has utilized at least several of the significant factors we discussed in class today
.

I handed the teacher my paper with a smile on my face. I waved good-bye to Grant, who was still writing, and then I practically skipped to my next class. Maybe there was something to that dopamine theory because after I wrote that, my entire outlook changed.

A really neat boy liked me, and I think I actually liked him. For some reason, I'd felt so alone a few days ago, and suddenly it seemed like I was Beatrice Malcolm and
Grant
Lawson, party of two—and this boy would protect me. Like if it ever came down to it, he'd say, “I have your back,” and he'd mean it.

Chapter
29

Amilee sat on the bench with her face buried in her phone, and she was actually laughing out loud when I approached. She chimed up with, “I think I like this guy, Scott.”

Good—that would keep her away from Grant
.

“He's been texting me most of the day. He's funny,” she said.

I had a fleeting thought that maybe these boys were up to no good. “Do you think that . . .”

She looked up from her phone and everything on her face seemed brighter, as if suddenly she had a reason to be alive—like her mom, with the new job. I didn't want to quash that because it was nice to see her this way.

“Huh?” she said.

“Nothing, really, I just don't want to be played. They're not messing with us, are they?” I asked.

Amilee dropped the phone in her purse and looked at me. Her beauty was sometimes overshadowed by her selfish personality. But today she glowed. Her dark brown eyes were outlined with the longest lashes I'd ever seen. It seemed like she had always gone overboard with the makeup and hair color. Her naturally brown hair had been blonde, red, and many other crazy things, like once, a pink stripe down the back.

Today, she had brown hair with lighter highlights. She seemed to be shining from the inside. “Let's hope not,” she said in her husky voice, “because I like the idea of these two. It works.”

I
looped my arm in hers, as we walked to the car. “I do, too. Now let's go shopping.”

By the time we got home it was dark, but we both had two complete outfits. Mrs. Gray was sitting at the table with a diet soda, flipping through some papers. “How was school?” she asked without looking up from the pages.

“We shot heroin and joined an orgy, probably got pregnant, and won't know who the father is,” Amilee said.

“That's good,” her mom said.

I chuckled.

“Make sure you get checked for STDs.” Mrs. Gray removed her glasses and stared at us. “Want dinner?”

“Yes,” Amilee said.

“There's chicken in the oven.”

As I walked by the table I saw the words “Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease” on one of the pages. A lump filled my throat. “What are you working on?”

“Neurodegenerative conditions, prion diseases, and potential new therapeutic interventions.” She stacked her papers in a pile and said, “It's fascinating.”

Every bit of that sentence sounded like my father. “You know my mother died from CJD, right?”

“I know.” She glanced from Amilee to me, and then she said, “I feel so purposeful in learning about these rare diseases.”