Hush Money (11 page)

All I could do now was stand up and stay
between them.

Joss

I figured Kat’s party to be at about
two-third’s swing. This was a completely arbitrary judgment as this
was my first party since I was five. I was going by the fact that
everyone seemed to be there, music was pumping out of the speakers
out on the deck, people were talking in small groups, and it was
mostly girls inside, in the family room, pretending they weren’t
watching most of the guys, who were outside, on the deck that
opened off of it.

Then Marco came in with his crew and headed
for the buffet of snacks Kat and I had spent the afternoon working
on. Kat and I had been standing at the table for a bit, while Kat
displayed some rabid perfectionist tendencies I wasn’t aware she
had. But of course I should have guessed. After she and her friends
had strong-armed me into a mini-makeover and ridiculous clothes,
she had kept me in her hip-pocket so far this evening, making sure
I didn’t revert to form, she said. She was fussing over neatly
folded napkins that were obviously destined to go unused when
Heather nudged her and inclined her head toward the door. The girls
immediately went on alert, and so did I. They turned as one,
preparing to strike, while I casually began to back away from them,
heading for the corner I’d been longing for.

As if my heart weren’t pounding hard enough,
from the people, the noise, from knowing something was about to
happen, Dylan’s glance caught mine, and he smiled at me. I tried
not to glance down at myself, at the scoop-neck top they’d made me
wear that hugged me all over, and the sparkly little pendant that
said
hey, we got some cleavage over here!
Most people
probably wouldn’t consider it low cut at all, but this was probably
the most clavicle I had ever displayed. I crossed my arms over my
chest, realized that probably made the cleavage thing worse,
uncrossed them, and shifted uncomfortably in Kat’s girl-shoes.

“Marco,” Kat said, grabbing a cup of soda
from the table behind her. “I’m really glad you could come to my
party.”

He looked suspicious as she exchanged his
empty cup for the full one. This was further proof, in my opinion,
that Marco wasn’t as stupid as Kat thought he was.
“Know your
enemy.”
My dad’s words went through my head. I had tried one
last time to talk Kat out of whatever it was they had planned, but
she wasn’t hearing it. She was convinced that a Psych 101 textbook
put everyone into their neat little boxes. But how could it? I
wondered what Psych 101 had to say about minds that could cause
temporary blindness, move objects, start fires.

“Well thanks. That’s really nice of you.
Although I hope you’re not thinking that this changes anything
between us. If you know what I’m saying.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jeff
asked.

“About how Kat wants me, but I told her it
wouldn’t work between us. Isn’t that right, Kat?”

“You’re hilarious.” To give her credit, Kat
seemed perfectly comfortable sparring with Marco, even though more
of the other kids were sensing something was going on that was
worth paying attention to. “I think you and I got off on the wrong
foot. I mean, there’s so much we don’t know about each other. Like,
for example, I didn’t know that it’s just you and your dad at
home.”

All conversation stopped. Outside, the music
was as loud as ever, but all eyes were on the two groups facing off
in Kat’s family room. Kat, Maddy, Heather, and Elizabeth vs. Marco,
Dylan, Jeff, and Eric.

“So? What of it?”

“I’m just saying that I didn’t know it. I’m
sure it’s been hard on you.”

“So, what’s this? You’re going to pretend to
feel all sorry for me because my mom ran off and we don’t know
where she is? Don’t bother. We don’t care.”

“Ran off? You mean ‘was taken away,’ right?
’cause your mom’s at Hellermann’s, right?”

“Shut up, Kat,” Jeff snapped. “You don’t know
what you’re talking about. His mom’s no mental—”

Marco jabbed Jeff in the ribs. “Who told you
that?”

I fell back against the wall, so grateful
that I wasn’t a part of this, and that no one was paying attention
to me right now. And at the same time, I felt guilty because I
could have been in the loop. Maybe I could have stopped this.
Because this was wrong. Even to Marco, it was just wrong. My dad
had spent time at The R.K. Hellermann Center for Mental Health. I
wasn’t ashamed of it, but…damn.

“After our…conversation the other day, I just
wanted to find out as much about you as I could. So I did.”

“Who. Told you that. About my mother?”

Dylan stepped up, “I don’t know what’s going
on between the two of you, but making stuff up like this? It’s
messed up, Kat.”

When you spend your time watching life, you
read a lot of people, and here’s what I was pretty sure about: what
Kat just said was true, it was news to Jeff and Eric, and Dylan was
pissed off.

“But I’m not making it up, am I, Marco?”

“Kat,” Dylan’s voice was more forceful this
time. “You need to back off. This isn’t you.”

“No, hey, it’s fine.” Marco stepped forward.
I think Kat wanted to step back, but didn’t. “I mean, what does it
really matter what people think? So either my mom’s a dead-beat ho
or she’s a freakin’ lunatic. What’s the difference, right?”

Kat shrugged. “I guess the difference is
something like: are you so obnoxious that you made your mom run
away, or did you drive her insane?”

Dylan clapped a hand on Marco’s shoulder.
“Come on, man, let’s go.”

“Oh no, we’re not leaving. Not when Kat and I
are really getting to know each other.”

* * *

Joss

“Are you okay?”

I glanced up at Dylan and then immediately
found a focus point on his shoulder. It was lame that I could never
seem to look this boy in the eye. Kat’s mom had called her, which
was nice for her, since it gave her an excuse to quit while she was
sort of ahead. She’d breezed out of the room, her entourage in her
wake. Dylan had led Marco outside for some air, and the rest of his
crew had followed. I was surprised that I hadn’t seen him come
back. I was way too much in my head.

“Shouldn’t you be asking your friend that
question?”

“I am,” he replied, completely throwing me.
After he let that sink in for a beat, he kept going. “If you mean
Marco, he’s Marco. He’s either ok or he’s not, and he’s not going
to talk about it here, if anywhere.”

I nodded.

“So I was thinking that maybe…I mean, I
noticed that you looked…”

“What?” Between the guilt and the shoes I was
damned uncomfortable and it came out defensive.

“Upset, I guess.”

Why are you noticing how I look, or anything
about me? You are seriously toying with the Laws of the Universe,
you know that, right?

“Yeah, well, it was an upsetting scene. And
one I didn’t know anything about,” I added quickly.

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

Maybe that’s part of what I liked about
Dylan, beyond the shoulders and the blue eyes. He was always trying
to smooth things over, make people feel better, and he usually
seemed sincere about it.

Still, I found myself babbling, “I mean it. I
mean, I knew there was some bad blood or whatever between Marco and
Kat, and I knew she had some kind of plan to get back at him, but I
swear, I did not know what it—”

“Joss,” he reached out and touched my
shoulder. I jumped—I couldn’t help it—and he dropped his hand
quickly. “I know you didn’t know. You wouldn’t be a part of
something like that. It’s not your style.”

I almost said something biting, like “How
would you know?” Something to push him back because I was feeling
very literally cornered. But I didn’t. Instead I went with, “I
didn’t think it was hers either. Now I don’t know what to
think.”

“I didn’t realize there was anything going on
between the two of them, and I’m not pretending to know what’s
going on. But I can say that Marco’s not an easy person to get
along with, especially lately. Sometimes he…makes people do things.
Things they know are wrong, things they never would have believed
they’d do.”

“What are you talking about?”

I looked up again and he wasn’t really
focused on me at all, but my question brought his eyes back to
mine.

“Nothing really.” He smiled, but I wasn’t
thrown by it this time.

“I thought Marco was your friend.”

“A lot of people think that. I did too. Never
mind,” he said, shrugging it off and turning to go, “I was
just—”

I grabbed his sleeve, and we both froze,
looking at my hand. For a minute I thought that maybe he understood
how crazy it was. I didn’t touch people. I
encouraged
people
to leave me alone. And I still wasn’t letting him go.

There was a whole jumble of things going on
in my head. I was kind of feeling this growing like for him—as a
person and not just a pair of shoulders—the longer we talked. I was
actually feeling concerned about him, and even though I usually
hated the feeling, I wanted to know more about Dylan. And about
this problem he was hinting at between him and Marco. If he was.
The pink frilly haze of
omg, he’s really talking to me
was
hard to think through.

He sighed. “It’s no big deal. He’s just…not
who he used to be, and I’ve been noticing it a lot more lately.” He
paused, and the self-deprecating half smile he gave me made my
heart trip. “He’s been giving you a hard time for the last few
years, Joss. This is the part where you call me an ass because I’m
just now figuring this out.”

“Sometimes it’s easy to ignore things you
don’t want to deal with. Even if they’re right in front of
you.”

“Is it?” He had turned back to face me, and
suddenly his question seemed really personal. My pulse was pounding
harder than the music, and you’d think some of that blood would be
going to my racing, light-headed brain, but it must have been all
in my red face instead. I was definitely over-analyzing.

A loud, authoritative voice boomed in the
room’s wide entry. “If Phillip Meeks is here, we need him to
identify himself and come forward.”

Joss

“Who’s asking?” Phil had been standing behind
the couch, leaning over Jessica Morgan and looking at a magazine
she was holding. He could have dropped to the floor behind the
sofa, but instead he actually walked around it and swaggered
forward, his hands in his pockets.

I nearly dropped my face into my hands.
The moron! Some people just cannot be helped.
I had to
wonder if I was one of them since I found myself moving slowly
toward Kat, who had placed herself in the middle of the room,
between the adults and Phil. My instinct should have been to back
farther into my corner, to stay as unnoticed as possible. But I
didn’t want to see Kat make the same mistake twice. Worse.

“National Institutes for Ability Control.”
Both of the men standing with Kat’s parents, dressed in
loose-fitting black clothes from head to toe, flashed ID cards.
“We’re authorized to take you in under suspicion that you possess
an unreported Ability—”

“Get out of my house. Dad, tell them they’re
not taking anyone.”

“Kathryn…”

“This isn’t a matter that concerns you, Miss
Dawson. We’re just here for the boy.”

Kat started a speech about Constitutional
rights and such that I didn’t even listen to. I did a quick scan as
I moved carefully toward the center of the room. The agent who
wasn’t speaking glanced at me, but I wasn’t the only one moving. I
could feel Dylan just behind me. Other kids were slipping out
through the sliding doors. I saw Jeff and Marco vault over the deck
rail and others slipping away into the night. The agents didn’t
seem to care, as long as they had their quarry in their sights.

We had the two agents standing in the doorway
between the family room and formal living area. I saw two others
enter the lighted part of the yard, slinking smoothly toward us.
The only other exit was the swinging door I had been standing near
moments ago which led to the kitchen. I wondered if agents would be
coming through there at any moment. I wondered why I hadn’t used it
myself.

The other girls were now standing beside Kat.
Great,
I thought,
ready to jump right into her next
stupid plan.
As soon as I reached her, I put a restraining hand
on her arm. She hardly noticed. Dylan moved silently around to
stand in front of me, and I had to lean into Kat a little just to
be able to see something besides his shoulder.

“Come on now, son. Let’s not make this
difficult,” the agent said to Phil.

“Difficult how?” Phil asked. “You mean like
this?”

His eyes turned bright red, glowed, and then
a beam of red light shot up to the ceiling. It popped with a little
burst of flame and rained plaster down on the agents. Everyone
jumped back, someone screamed, and then the room seemed to
freeze.

“That’s it. We need everyone on the ground,
now!” The agents drew weapons, but they were just Tasers. They’d
hurt like hell, incapacitate, but they probably wouldn’t kill
anyone. I wasn’t so sure about Phil. Still, as much as a dumbass as
Phil was, he was kindred, a Talent, and these guys were jack-booted
thugs. No way I was lying down to make their jobs easier.

While some of the kids, and even Kat’s
parents, hit the carpet, I was surprised that there were a lot of
us still standing. I felt Kat gather herself to do something, and I
squeezed her arm.

“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed in her
ear.

The agents were still yelling, at Phil, at
everyone, demanding compliance.

“Someone has to do something!” she hissed
back.

And then it happened. So fast. The lead agent
took aim at Phil, pulled back on the trigger, and I just reacted,
flinging out that invisible line in my mind like a whip, wrapping
it around the weapon, yanking hard. What everyone saw was the gun
flipping out of his hand and landing on the carpet several feet
away. The electrodes meant for Phil pinged harmlessly against the
stone fireplace.