“You were busy with Bobby.”
“I’m never too busy for you.”
Our relationship feels different. Like someone has taken my favorite sweater and thrown it in the dryer and it doesn’t fit right anymore. I want to pull and tug on it until it feels comfortable again. He is my boyfriend, I tell myself. I didn’t have a problem giving people new roles when they earned them. He had earned it. Hadn’t he? I finger a button at the top of his jacket and then meet his eyes. “Do you want to hang out with me tonight? We can get a movie or something.” As I say it, I remember the text Duke had received in his room the other day when he had left his phone behind. Ray and the football players were getting together at Fat Jacks tonight. That’s why it felt like I was forgetting something, it was his appointment.
He looks up, biting his lip. “Tonight? I have something tonight, what is it?”
I start to remind him, but he continues. “Oh, yeah, I have to go to this work party with my parents. It’s going to be so boring. Believe me, I’d much rather hang out with you. Maybe you can come with me.” He smiles and then his smile falls. “Oh, that’s right”—he pulls on my blue strip of hair—“you’re still grounded. I guess I’ll have to suffer through it on my own.” The second bell rings, but I don’t move. He kisses my cheek and then my lips. “You’d better get to class. I’ll call you after the work thing, okay?”
“Okay.” He walks away, and I clench my fists. He lied to me. And over what? A date with Ray? Couldn’t he have just said he was going out with Ray? Guys night or something. Did that mean he was hiding something from me? What did they need to talk about that I couldn’t hear? I hate myself for turning into the untrusting girlfriend, for proving Laila right, but I have to go to Fat Jacks tonight and see what their meeting is about.
CHAPTER 30
au-to-NO[R]M-ic: adj. having no control over my spontaneous actions
Trevor lies on his stomach on the floor, his notebook open in front of him, penciling several characters I had already written for the comic. I sit next to him, gnawing on the end of a pen, trying to find the easiest way to explain the Compound in story form. It’s turning out to be a lot harder than I thought. I lean back against his bed and stare at the ceiling for a minute. Unlike my own ceiling, there are no words of inspiration there.
I set my pen and notebook aside and slide down next to him, resting my chin on his shoulder so I can watch him draw. The steadiness of his hand gliding across the paper, creating shapes where there were none, mesmerizes me for a moment. “You’re amazing. You know that, right?”
He flips the page of his sketchbook to a blank one, takes my hand, and places it on the page. Then he slowly traces around each finger. A shudder goes through me as the pencil grazes the side of my palm. I haven’t done this since I was five, but it certainly didn’t make me feel like this back then.
After circling my hand twice, he asks, “Writer’s block?”
It takes me a moment to remember I was trying to write the story. I roll onto my back and shake out the tingling sensation in my hand, hoping to regain my thoughts. “Yes.”
He turns on his side, propping himself up on one elbow and draping his other arm across my waist. “So we already have the characters.”
“Yes. The Amender who can tell the future.” I point to myself. “Lola, the Memory Eraser. Robert, evil villain number one who can walk through walls.”
“And myself, evil villain number two. Who can …”
I still haven’t figured out who to make Trevor in the story. At first I thought it was funny to make him the villain, but now that I’m mirroring real life as much as possible, I don’t want to assign him to be one of the “bad guys” in my life. When I look at him, I don’t see evil at all. I thought about making him Bobby but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I should’ve made him the hero, but it’s too late now. He’ll wonder why I’m making such a big deal about it. “Who can … kiss really well.”
He pulls me close. “I didn’t realize that was a superpower.”
My heart races. “Neither did I.”
He gives a breathy laugh and proves my point. After fully taking my breath and my thoughts away, he resumes his position and says, “Maybe we’re going out of order. Let’s figure out the rules of the Superpower Compound first.”
“Rules?”
“You know, things our characters can and can’t do. Kind of like my mom walking by a little while ago and reminding me that I’m not allowed to have the door shut when there’s a girl I like in my room.” He nods his head toward the wide open door. “Rules.”
“What? You like me? When did this happen?”
“It started with the zombie note. How could I resist that?”
I smile and use my finger to trace the line across his bicep made by the shadow of his T-shirt sleeve. “I started liking you when we got trapped in the principal’s car together.”
“Really? So the whole best-friend talk?”
“Me in denial.”
He smirks. “Okay, rules.”
“Yes, rules.” I start listing off the things he needs to know about the Compound. “They can’t leave without permission. Nobody on the outside knows about them.”
“Nobody?”
“Well, only the other people with abilities. There are people with superpowers living outside the Compound, but they have to keep their identities a secret. Let’s make some really smart famous people in history have superpowers too.”