Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)

Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1) Page 25

“There aren’t any Mass Manipulators on the team, if that’s who injured his muscle. And if someone was making him relaxed to catch him off guard for the injury, there’s only one Mood Controller.” She takes the papers back from me and flips through a few pages. “This guy … Andrew. But he’s not a starter. In fact, he’s a freshman. Didn’t you say Trevor got hurt last year?”

“Yeah. He did.” I glance over her arm to look at the page. “Maybe their Mood Controller from last year graduated. Maybe Andrew is the replacement. What’s a freshman doing on the varsity team anyway? He could easily soothe the opposing team’s emotions from the bench.”

“True.” She tosses the papers onto my bed. “We’ll have to keep an eye out. Come on, let’s beautify ourselves.”

We walk through the parking lot on our way to the stadium. Laila stops at a car, pulls out her lipstick, and bends over to use the side mirror. She growls. “I can’t see a thing.” She yanks on the mirror, and the car alarm screams at her.

“Come on, let’s go,” I say, glancing around to see if the owner is nearby.

“No, I got this.” She holds up her hands, clad in lacy fingerless gloves, and the car goes silent.

My mouth falls open. “What the crap was that?”

“Okay, so don’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“I’ve been hanging out with Bobby, and he taught me how to extend my ability.”

“Extend your … what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know, kind of like advanced ability control.”

My mind flies through all the lectures my mom has ever given me about the dangers of untested mind experiments. “Are you crazy? Do you want brain damage? There’s a reason we’re not supposed to push our abilities until our minds are fully developed.” I know I sound a lot like my mother, but in this case my mother is right.

Laila snaps her gum. “What reason is that? So adults can maintain control over us? They just don’t think we can handle the extra power. They think we’ll abuse it.”

“I don’t know why they’d think that,” I say sarcastically, pointing to the car whose alarm she just disabled. “How?”

“I mentally find the car’s electrical board and Erase the last thirty seconds of its ‘memory.’” She finishes with air quotes.

I glance between the car and her several times.

“And there’s more,” she says. “Watch this.” She holds up her hands and closes her eyes. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. The car has already been wiped. But then suddenly, with a jolt that radiates through my body, the car wails back to life. I throw my hands over my ears, my shoulders going up as well. She smiles wide and then quiets the car again. I don’t move.

She points at me. “Why are you doing that? Why didn’t you just mentally muffle it?”

Why did I do that? Out of practice? “I don’t know. I was surprised, I guess.…” I lower my hands and stare at the car. My mind races. “Did you just …”

“I restored its memory.”

My mouth opens and closes twice before I’m finally able to say, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I couldn’t. Advanced. Ability. Control.” She laughs. “Come on.” She tugs on my arm, and we start walking again.

“You’ve been hanging out with Bobby?” I ask, the rest of her admission finally catching up with me. How did he of all people end up in her new pool of friends? “Bobby.”

“I know, I know.” She waves it off like it’s no big deal. “But I had to. I wanted to be able to defend myself. My dad has this creepy friend who keeps coming around the house, threatening my mom and me, and I found out Bobby is really good at enhancing abilities.”

We cut through the dark baseball field, toward the football stadium. “Some guy threatened you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’s a loser who gets off on scaring girls. It probably makes him feel tough. Nothing I can’t handle.”

I hook my arm in hers. “Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Speaking of, have you heard about a murdered girl around our age in the Compound?”

“What? No. Why?”

“It’s something my dad is investigating, but if you haven’t heard about it, I guess that means they haven’t released it to the public yet.”

“A murder? In the Compound? Are you sure? Who did it?”

“They’re interviewing suspects. It might not be a murder at all. They think she may have killed herself.”

“That would make more sense. That sucks. So does this mean you’ve been snooping in your dad’s things? You naughty girl.”

I kick at the dirt as we head toward the lit-up ticket booth. “I know, he would be so mad.”

“I’m surprised you’ve been able to keep it from him.”

“He just hasn’t asked the right questions yet. Let’s hope he doesn’t start.”

We hand our tickets to the lady when we reach the booth and then enter the stadium. The sound of the band playing and the noise of the crowd immediately make my heart pound.

“Look at you grinning like a fool,” Laila says.

“I’m excited for you to meet my new friends. And for them to meet you. And don’t forget …”

“Yeah, we’ve never heard anything about Lincoln High.”

“Thank goodness we’ve never been to an away game before, or they might’ve recognized us.”

“Your lack of school spirit has proven useful. Where exactly does Trevor think you’re from?”

“California.”

“They made you a California girl?”

“Not technically. But I claimed it. I’ve been there. Once.”

She rubs her brightly colored lips together. “So, what—do you describe It’s a Small World when he asks about your home?”

“I usually just change the subject.” I grab hold of her arm. “Come on, there they are.”

“We should mess with some Norm minds tonight,” she says, with a mischievous smile. “Make them do funny things.”

“No.” I squeeze her arm, forcing her to look at me. “Don’t. They’re really nice and smart and … just don’t, okay?”

“Okay, okay.” We continue our walk toward the group. “Which one’s Trevor?” she asks. I notice they’re all dressed normally tonight, no painted bodies or wigs. It must be for the “surveillance mission” we’re on.

“Wait, let me guess.” She slows her walk. “Who would Addie be drawn to? Cute, but understated. Shy, but confident. The dark-haired guy with his boot on the bench in front of him.” She points directly at Trevor.

The group hasn’t noticed Laila and me yet, but Trevor is the only one who isn’t moving—his eyes are fixated on the field. Rowan is climbing over Jason and reaching under the seat. Jason is attempting to push him to the ground. Daniel is blowing up a beach ball. Katie and Lisa have their cell phones out and are texting, and Brandon is trying to get Lisa’s attention.

“And where is Trevor’s girlfriend?”

I point to the field. “She’s a cheerleader.”

“And yet Trevor’s not watching her; he’s staring at the boys throwing around a football.”

“I didn’t say that was Trevor.”

“Is it?”

I laugh. “Yes.”

“That’s what I thought.” Laila fluffs her hair, laughs, and then says, “Let’s do this.”

We arrive at the group. “Hey, guys,” I say.

“Addison.” Rowan jumps up. He’s holding a foam hand, and he pokes my shoulder with it. “Who’s your hot friend?”

“You must be Rowan,” Laila says.

“Rowan, this is Laila, my best friend from back home.”

Rowan raises one eyebrow at me. “Welcome, best friend from back home. You can sit next to me.”

I shake my head. “Rowan, have I taught you nothing?”

His fake smile turns into a real one. “I’m a slow learner.”

I point out everyone else, saying their names, and they each give Laila a wave.

“Holy crap, Addie, you have friends. Lots of them.” We work our way down the aisle, past Daniel, Katie, Lisa, and Brandon to Trevor. He stands. “Hey, Addison.”

“Hi, this is Laila.”

“Good to meet you, Laila.”

Laila takes his outstretched hand and shakes it. “I heard you’re my competition.”

Trevor looks at me with a furrowed brow.

I throw her the thanks-a-lot look. “I told her you were my future best friend. But with a mouth like hers, that future is getting closer.”

“Oh, I see,” he says. “I didn’t realize I was competing for that title.” His emphasis on the word that makes me give him a double take. When he maintains his normal expression, I decide I must’ve imagined it.

“I still think I have the advantage, despite my big mouth,” Laila says. “You may be just as good-looking as I am, but I’m tougher. Plus I’ve known her for ten years longer. So I don’t think we need to fight yet.”

“That’s good.”

“Are these for us?” I ask, pointing to the two empty spots beside him.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to be put on any more death lists, so I thought I’d save you seats.”

We all sit down, Trevor on my left, Laila on my right. Laila leans forward. “Don’t worry, Addie is more bark than bite.”

When Laila leans back, Rowan is there, squatting by her legs and looking at the three of us with a serious expression. “Operation Lincoln High School is about to start.”

Next to me, Trevor sighs as if he honestly thought Rowan wouldn’t go through with this and just realized he thought wrong. I try not to laugh and nudge his shoulder with mine.

“We will be infiltrating their student section in shifts,” Rowan continues. “So, Addie, work on your flirting, it’s lacking.”

“Hey,” I object, even though it’s true.

“Laila,” he continues, unfazed, “just walk over there, and any male with eyes will notice you.”

Laila laughs. “I like this one.” She takes his face in her hands and kisses his cheek. “He’s adorable.”

When she lets go, Rowan loses his balance and lands on his backside, a goofy grin on his face, and a red lip print on his cheek. “So we’ll start after kickoff.” Instead of taking a seat next to Laila, like I expect him to do at this point, he scurries off.

“Speaking of all bark and no bite,” Trevor says.

“Well, Laila is both, so he’d better watch out.”

The band starts to play, and I turn to Laila and say in her ear, “Rowan may want to do his infiltrate-the-student-section mission that we both know is going to result in nothing.…”