Home > Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(23)

Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(23)
Author: Kasie West

“It’s the cover of the comic book he’s drawing.” He points to the desk, and I walk over. Next to his desk a garbage can overflows with crumpled paper. Above it, pages are pinned up on the wall. They’re obviously pictures he’s drawn of the characters from his comic book.

“He’s really good,” I say, my finger running along the edge of one of the pages. I reach down and grab a paper out of his trash. It’s a redheaded girl in a cape, jumping between two buildings. I have no idea why he threw it away. If he thinks this is garbage, Trevor must be really hard on himself. “Do you think he’d let me read his comic?” I ask Brody.

He laughs. “He doesn’t let anyone read it.”

“Not even you?”

“He lets me see the pictures.”

“Addison?” Trevor says, from the doorway behind me.

I whirl around like I’ve just been caught snooping, holding his trash … which I have. “Sorry, I …” Pocketing the paper, I swallow down my embarrassment. Trevor scans his room, probably deciding how embarrassed he should be.

I point to his bookcase and quickly say, “You told me you didn’t like books.”

He smiles. “Those don’t really count.”

“Those totally count. I have Ninja Wars and Elementals myself.” I nod my head toward his desk. “And it looks like you succeed at drawing a lot more than you think you do.”

“Sometimes I get lucky.”

“You must not understand the definition of luck.”

He meets my eyes then, and I think he’s about to say something when Rowan’s loud voice yells down the hall, “Trevor!”

“Oh, I forgot. Rowan has some sort of presentation for all of us.” He gives me a yes-I-constantly-humor-Rowan look.

I don’t want to leave this room and rejoin the party. I could spend the rest of the night parked in front of Trevor’s bookcase (or his trash, for that matter), discussing the novels on his shelf. He must sense that too, or maybe it’s my longing gaze at the books, because he says, “You can come back later. My bookcase is all yours.”

I walk toward the door. “I’ve just decided those are my favorite five words in the world.”

He laughs, and as I pass him he grabs hold of the corner of the paper that’s sticking out of my pocket, freeing it.

I scrunch my nose. “You were just going to throw it away.”

“Exactly.” He wads it up and tosses it across the room. It lands on top of the others in the trash.

I’m more disappointed than I should be that I can’t keep his drawing. It would’ve looked good on my wall. I make it a goal to acquire at least one of his drawings. It shouldn’t be too hard, since the floor of his car is littered with them, but then I realize I want him to willingly give me one. Better yet, I want him to draw one for me. That is my new goal.

When we get back into the game room, Rowan says, “Okay, everybody. Come over by the couches. I have a surprise for Trevor.”

Trevor glances at me like I should know what is about to happen, but I’m clueless. Rowan stands in front of the group. “This next weekend is the first anniversary of Trevor’s injury. It also happens to be the weekend that Lincoln High dares to show their faces again in our stadium.”

Heat slowly creeps up my face.

“I was able to get my hands on a poster of this year’s Lincoln High football team.” He runs to the corner and comes back with a rolled-up poster. He unfurls it and lays it on the coffee table in front of us. My eyes travel over all the familiar people, stopping on the smiling face of Duke. “We all know how impossible it is to get information on any of these people. It’s like their school is some sort of national secret. But I say we each pick two members of the starting lineup and find out as much as we can about them when they’re here this Friday.”

“Mr. Buford would be proud,” Liam says with a laugh.

Rowan points at him. “Exactly. We know something weird is going on at that school. Trevor’s injury was not an isolated incident—there have been players at other schools. Trevor was on the road to college stardom, and they took him out. We can’t just sit back and let them get away with it.” He jams his finger onto the poster. It lands right on Duke’s face. I flinch.

Rowan will never find out anything. It’s why the Compound has a Containment Committee. Information never gets very far. But I find myself wishing he could discover who’s behind the injuries. I wonder if Laila has gotten the list of abilities from the front office and if it will shed any light on who’s to blame.

Trevor laughs, but it sounds forced. “All right, Rowan. That’s enough. How about if we just hang the poster and throw darts at it.” He stands.

“I’m dead serious. We have to do surveillance. Some of their students come and watch the game. We can place spies in their student section.”

Trevor grabs the poster, rolls it up, and whacks Rowan on the shoulder with it. “Sounds like a plan.”

CHAPTER 21

preP-A-RA-tion: n. precautionary measures taken to be ready for future events

Duke, Laila, and I sit in his car after the football game. I haven’t stopped shaking since Poison showed me his power, but I’m trying to keep it under control because I’ve never seen Duke angry before. The muscle in his jaw twitches several times as he clenches and unclenches it.

“So, what do you think Poison’s ability is then?” Laila asks. “I’ve never heard of anyone who can take over a nervous system.”

I’ve been trying to figure out his ability since the moment he walked away from me, finally allowing me to control my own movement again. Taking over a nervous system is an ability I had never heard of either. Is it something that can be learned, like Thought Placement and Light Manipulation, or is it something a person is born with? “Maybe people can do it, but we’ve never met anyone who would.”

“So you think he can manipulate mass then, like Bobby?” Laila asks.

“It was definitely manipulation, but I had no idea Mass Manipulators could do that.” I free my phone from my pocket. “I should call my dad. This is crazy.”

“No.” Laila’s voice stops my finger just before I hit the call button. “Your dad is going to ask questions. He’s going to wonder how we know him. You’re going to have to tell him about my dad. They’ll take him in.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad already knows about your dad’s drug problem.”

“Yeah, but this has gone further than that. What if this guy does something to my dad because we talk to the authorities?” Her voice is hard and confident, but the look in her eyes is sadness mixed with desperation. “Please, Addie, let’s just see if we can figure out something first.”

After coming face-to-face with Poison behind the stadium, I have no doubt he can make good on a threat. I put my phone away. “Okay.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Duke finally says.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Laila says. “We all know you’re the type to defend Addie’s honor. Now let’s think of serious ideas, not extreme ones.”

“I am serious.”

I reach over and grab Duke’s hand. He tenses again before he relaxes. As he exhales I relax as well. “He didn’t hurt me, Duke. He didn’t even threaten me. It was Laila’s dad he was making threats against.” I turn toward the back. “How much money do you think your dad owes him?”

She rolls her eyes. “Who knows? But no matter the threat, my dad can’t produce something he doesn’t have. It would be like trying to pull an ability out of a Norm.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Duke practically yells. “Ignore him?”

“Maybe we should.” I squeeze his hand. “Ignore him and avoid him. And leave his car alone,” I throw back for Laila.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says. “I’ll leave his car alone, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to find out all we can about this guy. I want to know who we’re dealing with. We’ll do an investigation.”

“I happen to know a whole team of guys who could use a new punching bag.”

It’s weird to see Duke like this. I’m used to his ever-present smile. “No, Duke, don’t. Please don’t do anything to him. It’ll just make things worse.”

He turns toward me and grabs both my hands in his. “We’re going to practice Thought Placement. If you’re ever in trouble, we need to make sure you can let me know.”

“You can do Thought Placement?” Laila asks, which is the same question I was about to ask. “I thought that was nearly impossible if your ability is related to manipulating objects and not other minds.”

He gives an irritated glance back to Laila before looking at me again. “The word nearly is used for a reason, isn’t it?”

“I’m not good at doing it over long distances yet,” I say. “What’s the point of telling you I’m in trouble if you’re standing right next to me?”

“We’ll practice. We need to learn each other’s energies. Be in tune with each other.” He puts a hand on the back of my neck and pulls me toward him until our foreheads touch. We’ll practice, I hear in my mind. The thought comes in my own voice, but I know he placed it there.

“Gag,” Laila says. “Please practice when I’m far, far away.”

My cheeks go hot, and I back out of his hold. “Let’s not forget that I’m not the only one in trouble here. Laila is in just as much danger as I am. Maybe more, since it’s her father he’s after.”

They both laugh.

“What?”

“Addie, my ability alone puts me at an advantage.” Then her eyes travel over me. “And that’s just the first thing.”

“You think you’re tougher than me, is that it?”

“Know.”

“Fine.” I fold my arms and sink back against my seat. “Whatever.”

“But if you want to give the bad guy the two paths he can take, I’m sure he’ll be impressed,” Duke says with the first smile I’ve seen since we got in the car.

I roll my eyes and try to stay irritated, but his smile makes it impossible. “Funny.”

“She can’t tell the bad guy his two paths. Only her own. So she’ll be able to tell him if she dies or not.”

“You two are a regular comedy duo. I think I liked it better when we were all worried about me.”

Duke’s smile disappears. “That hasn’t changed.” He turns back toward Laila. “Okay, let’s find out all we can about this creep.”

“Can’t we just wait until tomorrow?” We’re standing in the dark hall of Laila’s house. Our first step is to get Poison’s number from her dad’s cell phone. His snores echo down the hall.

“No, he’s a more predictable sleeper at night,” Laila says. “Just wait here.” She tiptoes into her parents’ room.

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