distorts Paul’s voice when he speaks. “It’s Wednesday night – you should be going to bed soon. You have school tomorrow.”
“Can you just buzz me in?” A gust of wind threatens to dislodge the packages in my arms. “I have a larger than life problem to deal with who doesn’t attend Shelley High.”
“Well, OK then.” I’m glad this seems to humor him. I hear it in his voice. “I’ll drop the pseudo-parent gig. Come to the office.”
Sharp sterilizer smell leaks out, invisible and ugly, when the electronic door opens.
I step into the perfectly-controlled atmosphere of my mad scientist father’s laboratory. For a second I pause, certain I hear breathing behind me in the hall, claws clicking on the linoleum flooring. But that’s stupid – the lab animals are securely locked in their department.
A few rooms down the hall, Paul’s door stands open, waiting. Nothing’s changed inside his office. Cozy with an extreme air of nerd. His old, cracked leather wingback chair sits in the corner, empty and a perfect place to stow the presents I bought at the mall. With a nod in the chair’s direction, I say, “Do you mind? I’m not exactly comfortable leaving these in the car.”
“Sure,” Paul says, one eyebrow raised above his glasses, “then you can explain what has big, bad MMA champ Alex scared.”
Despite his smartass comment, he looks more haggard than last time. His clothes are rumpled, stubble still in need of shaving, and lab coat hanging askew from the back of his chair. Part of me wants to let my guard down, lean on him like he seems to offer. The other part of me can’t get past the questions I harbor about his feelings for my mom, and the truths he’s hiding about the lab.
I open my mouth to say something, I’m not sure what, and then close it again.
“So,” Paul says, that wary expression settling back over his face, “what’s the larger than life problem you need help with? I see it’s not a shopping deficiency.”
“No,” I agree, “I did just fine with that. They are ,” I stress, nodding at the packages, “part of the reason I’m here though.”
“Oh really? Out with it, then.” He sits behind his desk and motions to the small chair in front of it.
“They’re in here because I don’t want to leave them where they could be tampered with.” I perch on the edge of the seat and drop the bomb I’ve been avoiding. “Hailey needs to go. She’s stalking me, harassing me through texts, making threats…”
His neutral falters, and flatlines. His gaze sinks. “You know I can’t do that, Alex. Her research is critical to some of the medicines Ascension is developing for local doctors. Besides being the one to protect the truth of what you really are, and hiding your father’s files, she’s part of Ascension.”
Paul’s response is so canned I can almost smell a hint of metal.
“That’s bullshit. She stole those files, and you know it. She’s not protecting me, she’s blackmailing me with them.”
He won’t meet my eyes when he says, “We have to believe her.”
“Well, I don’t,” I say. It’s impossible to argue with my gut. “She might be obsessive, but she’s not usually a liar. And what’s this ‘part of Ascension’ crap?”
“Regardless,” he says, refusing to answer my question. “Hailey cannot be removed.”
Something I’ve heard before. It wasn’t good enough then, and isn’t now – especially when I can feel he’s avoiding booting her out because of something else.
“Come on, Paul.” I lean forward in the seat, pressing closer to his personal space. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Such a loaded question, and I regret it the second I say it. I didn’t think Paul had the kind of secrets that could cut us both until I saw the expression on his face when he touched my mother’s picture.
“Hailey’s part of an ongoing experiment, the ongoing experiment. It’s what your father piggybacked his procedures on…” his
“Can you just buzz me in?” A gust of wind threatens to dislodge the packages in my arms. “I have a larger than life problem to deal with who doesn’t attend Shelley High.”
“Well, OK then.” I’m glad this seems to humor him. I hear it in his voice. “I’ll drop the pseudo-parent gig. Come to the office.”
Sharp sterilizer smell leaks out, invisible and ugly, when the electronic door opens.
I step into the perfectly-controlled atmosphere of my mad scientist father’s laboratory. For a second I pause, certain I hear breathing behind me in the hall, claws clicking on the linoleum flooring. But that’s stupid – the lab animals are securely locked in their department.
A few rooms down the hall, Paul’s door stands open, waiting. Nothing’s changed inside his office. Cozy with an extreme air of nerd. His old, cracked leather wingback chair sits in the corner, empty and a perfect place to stow the presents I bought at the mall. With a nod in the chair’s direction, I say, “Do you mind? I’m not exactly comfortable leaving these in the car.”
“Sure,” Paul says, one eyebrow raised above his glasses, “then you can explain what has big, bad MMA champ Alex scared.”
Despite his smartass comment, he looks more haggard than last time. His clothes are rumpled, stubble still in need of shaving, and lab coat hanging askew from the back of his chair. Part of me wants to let my guard down, lean on him like he seems to offer. The other part of me can’t get past the questions I harbor about his feelings for my mom, and the truths he’s hiding about the lab.
I open my mouth to say something, I’m not sure what, and then close it again.
“So,” Paul says, that wary expression settling back over his face, “what’s the larger than life problem you need help with? I see it’s not a shopping deficiency.”
“No,” I agree, “I did just fine with that. They are ,” I stress, nodding at the packages, “part of the reason I’m here though.”
“Oh really? Out with it, then.” He sits behind his desk and motions to the small chair in front of it.
“They’re in here because I don’t want to leave them where they could be tampered with.” I perch on the edge of the seat and drop the bomb I’ve been avoiding. “Hailey needs to go. She’s stalking me, harassing me through texts, making threats…”
His neutral falters, and flatlines. His gaze sinks. “You know I can’t do that, Alex. Her research is critical to some of the medicines Ascension is developing for local doctors. Besides being the one to protect the truth of what you really are, and hiding your father’s files, she’s part of Ascension.”
Paul’s response is so canned I can almost smell a hint of metal.
“That’s bullshit. She stole those files, and you know it. She’s not protecting me, she’s blackmailing me with them.”
He won’t meet my eyes when he says, “We have to believe her.”
“Well, I don’t,” I say. It’s impossible to argue with my gut. “She might be obsessive, but she’s not usually a liar. And what’s this ‘part of Ascension’ crap?”
“Regardless,” he says, refusing to answer my question. “Hailey cannot be removed.”
Something I’ve heard before. It wasn’t good enough then, and isn’t now – especially when I can feel he’s avoiding booting her out because of something else.
“Come on, Paul.” I lean forward in the seat, pressing closer to his personal space. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Such a loaded question, and I regret it the second I say it. I didn’t think Paul had the kind of secrets that could cut us both until I saw the expression on his face when he touched my mother’s picture.
“Hailey’s part of an ongoing experiment, the ongoing experiment. It’s what your father piggybacked his procedures on…” his
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