HEAR Page 16

  I try to get a read on this guy. He clearly digs old-time photography. And while I sense he’s not above helping himself to stuff off the shelves of this store, I also pick up an honor-among-thieves vibe. In short: I see him helping us. “ You wouldn’t be able to do it any faster, would you?”

  “Kass, he just said they have to send them to Georgia.”

  I shake my head. “I’m just thinking that Zander probably knows his way around a darkroom.” I throw a smile at him, a smile that says, I have faith in you; you can do this; you will do this! “I’ll pay you whatever you think is fair. I just need these back fast. Like, as soon as possible. Can you do that?”

  His eyes dart around the store, making sure his manager’s out of earshot. “Fifty bucks, tomorrow morning?” he breathes.

  “Deal.” I flash another smile. “And we’ll keep this between us.”

  Zander nods and pockets the negatives. “Cool.”

  Pankaj and I head for the door.

  He waits until we’re outside before saying anything. As he steers us back to campus, he shakes his head. “Must admit, Miss Black, that was impressive. How did you know to ask if he could print the pictures? You get some sort of read on him?”

  Though I’d like to take credit for sixth-sensing it, I tell Pankaj the truth. “Well, I did get the feeling he was inclined to help us. But his tattoo sealed it. I just put two and two together.”

  He nods. “Legacy might be smarter than I’ve given her credit for.”

  “A lot smarter, Rocket.”

  “I have an idea,” Pankaj says as we walk back up Horner Street. “It’s a good one.” He grabs my hand and drags me to a side street off the square.

  I have no idea where we’re going, but the block is full of quirky local shops selling things from decorative toddler socks to designer dog accessories. Because the sun is setting, everything is bathed in a pink-and-golden glow, and it reminds me what a great place Henley is—what a great place it should be—to go to school.

  I keep my eyes on Pankaj when he drops my hand and takes a few steps ahead. He opens one of the shop doors and motions me inside. As I enter and take in the scent of Cece’s Ice Cream’s freshly baked waffle cones, my mouth starts to water.

  “When you’re right, you’re right,” I say. “This may be your best idea yet.”

  Grinning, Pankaj walks to the counter. “A cone of mint chip, please.”

  “That’s my favorite too!” I exclaim far too gleefully.

  “I know. I was ordering that for you. I don’t like ice cream.” He gives me a serious nod, but as my eyes widen in disbelief, he breaks out laughing. “Kidding! Who doesn’t love ice cream?” He turns back to the boy at the counter. “Two cones of mint chip, please.”

  We finish our ice cream in the shop, and as we’re leaving, he again takes my hand. I shiver from the touch and move closer to him as we walk down the deserted block.

  “This is probably where your uncle’s experiments with mind control would get interesting,” he whispers.

  As I feel his breath on my ear, my whole body begins to tingle. “Mind control?”

  “ You know, the dark essence of his life’s work.”

  “Come on, that’s not fair. You can’t say that.” I’m beginning to feel defensive again; I’m the only one allowed to question my family’s questionable nature.

  “ You know it’s true. The real reason why he wants people to become suggestible? He wants to be able to control how people act, what they do.”

  “Stop. That’s a vicious, twisted lie . . .” I try to stay focused on my point, but with him so close, I lose track of what I was saying. “What do you even mean by that anyway?”

  “Well, say I wanted you to kiss me right now.” He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he speaks.

  I shake my head. That’s not going to happen. The boy is trouble. I know this, and obviously I don’t need any more trouble in my life. He can want me to kiss him, but I won’t do it. I did it before, but that was simply to prevent his ass from getting kicked. The fact that he was a great kisser was just a nice surprise . . .

  “Sure,” he says, dropping my hand and nodding. Then he turns and runs, hanging a left at the first corner, about twenty yards away.

  “Hey!” I yell, sprinting to catch up and dashing into the alley after him. Pankaj is breathing heavily and smiles when he sees me. “What was—” I gasp, watching him shake his head as he approaches, backing me against the wall.

  And then I’m kissing him. Yanking him closer to me. We move as if we’ve always known this choreography. My brain feels wiped clean, and I’m aware of nothing but physical sensations. I let my hands explore his back. He kisses the skin on the side of my neck up to my ear, and my whole body warms.

  When our eyes finally connect again, he pulls back and blinks slowly several times. He flicks his hair off his forehead then brushes my hair off my face. Closing my eyes again, I hear him say, “What if I told you I implanted the idea to do that in your head?”

  My eyes snap open. “What? No you didn’t. I did that because I wanted to.”

  “Well, that’s really nice to hear, but . . .” He shakes his head and presses his lips together. “ You know what? Forget it. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  I roll my eyes. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

  “Five seconds before we started kissing, you were offended that I’d slandered your uncle. You basically called me a liar, didn’t you?”

  This is hard to deny because it’s completely true. “Well . . .”

  “Well, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I find it kind of hot that you get turned on when you’re repulsed.”

  “Ew!” My head rears back, smacking the wall. “Ow! Gross!”

  “Does that mean you want to kiss me again?” Pankaj asks.

  Maddeningly, the answer is yes, though I will not admit it, or even think it if I can help myself.

  “Okay, so you’re trying to prove what?” I reply.

  “That I really wanted you to kiss me,” he whispers. “So I was doing my best to put that idea in your head. The experiments your uncle has been running with us—establishing ‘limbic resonance’ so we can influence cards—that’s only a few steps away from this.”

  “But he’s doing that because—” And then I get a flash: an idea that not only might make me feel more confident about what my uncle’s up to but might also help him make his case to the Internal Review Board.

  “What?” Pankaj asks. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking about that archive in the library. It’s part of public record, right?”

  His head tilts slightly. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I want to believe in my uncle’s basic goodness. There must be something in those files that shows he’s looking for a way to help, something that shows why he left the CIA and came here to Henley. If we’re lucky, we’ll prove that he didn’t know how his work would be perverted. That he really does have only the best intentions.”

  Pankaj slaps his hand to his forehead. “I don’t know what Kool-Aid you drank—”

  “I’m serious. The possibility at least exists, doesn’t it?” I bite my lip. “Be honest.”

  “Honestly?” He pauses, looks at the ground, and when he finally looks back into my eyes, his face is serious. “I know very little, but here’s what I honestly think: you’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, and you’re a badass. Kass, I find you blindingly attractive, and nothing else is as true to me.”

  I reach for him, putting my hands around the back of his neck, and pull him to me. My eyes close, and that’s when the pain roars through my head. I see flames. This is the clearest vision I’ve had yet: fire licks a window frame; I hear the crackle of the wood as it burns; I feel the heat of the blaze on my cheeks.

  My eyes open.

 
Pankaj yells, “Fire!”

  “Oh God!” I whisper.

  I catch a whiff of what I fear is the smell of burning skin.

  “Where is it?” Pankaj asks.

  I don’t have any idea, I say silently, reading the terror in his eyes.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As we run through the halls of the Merion Building, the disturbing images of the blaze are long gone. In my brain, there’s nothing but a low-level hum; white noise replaces everything else. We pound up the stairs two by two and race toward the lab. Finally, as we approach, I hear something: part of a conversation between Mara and Dan.

  “. . . never survive it,” Dan is saying.

  “I don’t know if that’s true.” Mara sounds almost pleading, as if she’s trying to will another outcome.

  “That’s just how I see it going down,” Dan says.

  Pankaj flings the door open.

  Dan and Mara look like they’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

  “Hey, guys,” Dan offers, startled. “What’s up?”

  “Have you seen my uncle?” I gasp.

  “Not recently.” He glances at Mara, who quickly and dismissively looks away from me, turning her eyes to Pankaj.

  I glance at the wall clock and see it’s late. There’s no reason he’d be here. There’s no reason the two of them should be here either . . . and I get another feeling—a physical sensation—different than the ones I’ve recently experienced, but no less powerful. It’s a feeling of exclusion. It’s that sense of knowing you’re not wanted or welcome in a conversation. Given how Mara has turned away from me, I can’t help but recall the vision with the hazy three-versus-one prophecy.

  “He left with the guy with the flowing white hair,” Dan adds.

  “That was Figg,” Mara confirms. “We saw him earlier. He’s been around a lot since that professor was shot. We figured he had a meeting here with Professor Black. Might have had something to do with the Internal Review Board decision. Professor Black is really worried that they’ll cut off his funding and shut the lab.”

  “I know . . . Will they?” I ask, finally seeking the answer I’ve been afraid to hear.

  They shrug and shake their heads, implying they don’t know. I can’t tell if this is the truth. I sense more powerfully than ever that they’re hiding something from me, but I don’t know why.

  “We need to find the professor,” Pankaj says to all of us. “Right away.”

  “Let’s just call him.” I unzip my bag to take out my cell phone.

  “Won’t work,” Dan says. “The professor doesn’t have his cell with him. I saw it on his desk when he was leaving with Figg. I tried to hand it to him, but he wouldn’t take it.”

  “It was weird,” confirms Mara. “If he didn’t want to be disturbed, he could have just silenced it.”

  “I even made a joke. Well, I thought it was a joke,” Dan continues. “I said, ‘You afraid they’ll use it to track you?’ He didn’t think that was funny at all. He tossed the phone back on top of his desk.”

  Pankaj shoots me a look.

  Mara takes it in. “Why are you two so desperate to find the professor?” she asks.

  “We both saw something,” Pankaj says. “A fire. Here.”

  Dan’s eyes widen. “On campus?”

  I nod. “But we don’t know where or when.”

  Mara glances between Pankaj and me. “It was a simultaneous vision? What are you seeing now?”

  “Me? Nothing,” Pankaj says. “Kass?”

  “Nope. All of it’s gone: the sight, sound, smell. Gone. Dan, is that what happened when you got your impression?”

  He looks confused.

  “I mean about . . . your dad?”

  “Oh,” he says. His eyes go blank, the way they always do when he’s thinking hard about something. Then they snap back onto me. “That one hung around for a while. Sometimes I still see it in my dreams.”

  None of us say a word. For a moment, I regret I even brought it up; the trauma must be hard for him to shake. It’s only been two years.

  Then something strange happens. Mara takes Dan’s hand.

  The spontaneous gesture of empathy catches him off guard. Pankaj looks surprised too. The jealous, threatening, unpredictable drama queen is gone.

  “Let’s get Alex on this,” I say urgently. “Where is he?”

  Dan frowns, still puzzling over Mara’s hand. “I don’t know. He said he had a dinner date with Erika, but then he got back to the dorm really early, carrying a doggie bag or something. He seemed off to me. Upset.” He shrugs. “But what do I know?”

  “Maybe he saw the fire too,” Pankaj says. “ You think he was having a vision?”

  “It didn’t seem that way to me.” Dan pulls his hand away and scratches his head. “Maybe that’s because it’s not how I react when I get one. I’m more matter-of-fact about these things.”

  “Well, let’s try to find him just in case,” Pankaj says. “He could be closer to figuring this out than we are.”

  Dan nods. “Besides, I don’t think Professor Black intends to be found tonight.”

  It doesn’t take long to locate Alex. Pankaj and I find him leaning over the pool table in the Miller Student Center, measuring a shot with his cue. As soon as I spot him, I text Dan to tell him and Mara to meet us here. Alex looks up and catches Pankaj’s stare.

  “Cool if I play?” Pankaj asks.

  Alex nods. I’m glad Pankaj speaks first since his greeting makes this sound like a nonchalant run-in as opposed to a desperate stalking. Pankaj picks up a cue from the rack that hangs on the wall and starts chalking it. He waits for Alex to get his shot off, but Alex paces up and down the length of the table, making it clear that he’s in no rush.

  “We’ve been trying to find you,” I say.

  “ Yeah? Why?”

  “We need your help with something. We got a feeling something bad’s about to go down, and we think you can help us stop it.”

  Alex backs away from the table. “It’s too late.” He exhales, his face clouding. “It already happened.”

  A pit forms in my stomach. “What already happened?”

  “I was dumped.” He looks back to the pool table as Pankaj starts lining up his shot. “Erika wants nothing to do with me.”

  I try to stop my eyes from rolling. Given what’s at stake, getting rejected by a girl you just met doesn’t seem all that traumatic to me. I glance at the entrance and spot Mara and Dan, and I wave them over to us.

  Alex leans against his cue. “I really thought we had a connection. I was already picturing a future together when I started school here.”

  “Here?” I ask, distracted, panic about the fire kicking in again. “Aren’t you going to Harvard?”

  “I was, but I asked Professor Black if he could pull some strings. I want to stay here at Henley.”

  Pankaj and I share a look.

  “Um, I don’t want to sound insensitive,” Pankaj says, “but you guys only just met, and you’ve already made plans to switch schools?”

  Alex exhales dramatically. “I always fall fast and hard. I don’t even know how to explain it, but when something’s there, it’s intense. It’s like there’s a straight line from my heart to my head. As soon as someone starts making my heart beat faster, my brain gets taken up too. So whenever I get dumped, I’m wrecked.”

  The brain on love, I think to myself.

  “What was it about her you liked so much?” Mara asks sharply, without bothering to say hello. Whether she just wants him to snap out of his self-pity or whether there’s something like jealousy at play, I can’t tell.

  “She was unique and beautiful, like this perfect butterfly. I guess I just found her . . . blindingly attractive.”

  The phrase “blindingly attractive” sends a chill up my spine. Pankaj s
aid those exact words to me earlier. My head snaps in his direction, but he’s focused on Alex.

  “I’m sorry she broke up with you, man, but we kind of have an emergency here,” he says. “Kass and I both saw a fire.”

  “And we know that people are going to die,” I add. “But neither of us knows where or when it’s going to happen. We thought you might be able to channel something?”

  Alex slowly nods. “I’ll try.”

  Mara watches Alex intently, as if she’s analyzing him. “Do you need anything?” she asks. “Like a pillow, someplace to lie down?”

  He shakes his head. Without saying anything more, he skulks over to one of the leather club chairs in the corner. The four of us watch as he leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and shading his eyes with his hands. Tears start rolling down his cheeks. Pankaj nudges me.

  Could it be he’s crying because of the intensity of the vision? I ask Pankaj silently.

  He gives me a hopeful shrug, though I’m not quite sure what to wish for anymore.

  “I’m sorry, you guys,” Alex says when he finally rises from the chair. “I didn’t get anything. So I think you should just follow your instincts. If you think something’s going down, be really careful, okay?”

  “It’s okay,” I say, though I wish he would try harder. I want to push him, but I know there’s no use.

  “What now?” Dan asks.

  Mara leans against the pool table. “I have a thought. I’m most receptive when I’m emotionally plugged in.” She glances at Pankaj, then looks at me. “ You guys said you had a joint vision. Were you doing something that produced an emotional response?”

  “We were sharing a pizza,” I blurt.

  “And that caused a joint vision?”

  “It was really amazing pizza,” Pankaj adds.

  She grimaces. “Okay then. You need to repeat the experience exactly. Go back for more ‘pizza,’ and see if it brings you back to that place.”

  I’m surprised. Shocked, really. Mara doesn’t buy the lame pizza line, that’s obvious. And that would seem to suggest she’s giving me the go-ahead to be with Pankaj. But the longer I look at her, the more I get the sense that she’s giving us these instructions while holding her nose; Pankaj and me hooking up is the lesser of two evils in her mind, which makes me wonder how awful the alternative must be.