I rub the aching spot over my chest. I’m trying to stay positive, but with each day that passes without progress, the pain deepens. At least my pounding migraines have dimmed to nagging aches. I’m still having trouble regulating my emotions, but my body feels lighter. Moreme. I want to bring him back, but I always stop myself at the last moment. It’s better this way. I can’t take the physical toll of carrying him with me again and I can’t risk losing my sanity. I won’t bring him back until McGregor has the antidote. Then we’ll fix his powers, and I’ll say goodbye.
For now, I spend my days alone. Ashamed. Pulling myself back together, debating and reasoning. Justifying to myself that leaving Parker was for the best. I’ve moved out of our apartment, so I’m not constantly reminded of him. I’m now staying in a tiny dorm closer to McGregor’s lab. When I’m not resting, I spend most of my time traveling back to watch over my last few weeks at Neurovida, trying to figure out how everything went so tragically wrong.
McGregor slides a granola bar along the desk toward me without looking up from his reading. “Eat.”
I stare at the journal lying open before him and clench my jaw. He’s getting nowhere. At this rate, Parker will never get his powers back, and I’ll be stuck here, wasting away, waiting. I stand and slam my fists on his desk. “Tell me what I can do to help. Put me to work.”
McGregor removes his glasses and stares up at me. “Go home. I don’t know why you insist on being here. I’ve told you time and time again, I’ll let you know once I find something.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. We both know why I’m here; I don’t trust him. But also—
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” I mumble.
McGregor remains silent, focused on the journal before him. Is he ignoring me? I press my palms into my eye sockets, failing to calm the rage bubbling in my chest. It’s become a permanent part of me, pressing on my lungs, exacerbated by every second I sit in this office hopelessly waiting. Is this some of what Parker could feel?
I stretch my legs and circle McGregor’s tiny office. What if Parker never gets his powers back? He’ll spend his life in danger. Sweat prickles the back of my neck. How long until Matthews catches up with him? I grind my teeth and glance back at McGregor.
Is he even trying?If anyone can figure this out, it’s him, right? It’shisjournal, for fuck’s sake. If my pulse would stop pounding in my ears, I could help McGregor withsomething, instead of lingering here like an idiot.
Who am I kidding? I’m not a scientist. I didn’t even finish school. I’m useless.
Useless. Useless. Useless.
And when Parker dies, it will be my fault.
I grab a trophy from the bookshelf and hurl it across the room. It damages the wall, hitting the floor with a resounding clang. McGregor doesn’t even look up.
I storm toward him with my hands on my head, fingers tugging at my roots. “Let me help,” I demand. “Give me something to do.”
McGregor throws down his precious fountain pen. “Fine. Get me another blood sample.”
“Something else,” I say through my teeth.
“If you want to help, that’s what I need,” he says.
“Why can’t you use the sample I already got you?”
“It’s too old,” he says, retrieving his cardigan from the back of his chair and sliding his arms through the sleeves. “I’ll need much more over the coming year if I’m going to figure out how to inhibit time travel and then reverse it.”
He may as well have drenched me in a bucket of iced water. “Year?What the fuck, McGregor? I can’t leave Parker for that long. He’s not safe.”
“Then go get him.” His focus returns to the journal. “Even better, go stay with him. Rest. Check back within the month.”
Not a chance.I gesture to the journal. “It’s all there, isn’t it? What else do you need?”
“Time,” he states, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This journal contains a sliver of the findings gathered from years of research into a subject which is exceedingly complex. It is therefore up to me to fill in the gaps.” He leans back in his chair. “I also don’t have access to the technology my future self has,andI need to figure out what was done to Parker to take his ability away before I can develop the antidote. And to do that, I’ll need more samples.” He slides his glasses back on and returns to his reading, his dismissal clear.
I push away from his desk and hover by the doorway. Is McGregor really having as much trouble as he says he is? Or is he stalling?
“Are we going to have a problem?” he asks.
I throw him a look of hatred and storm out of his office. Outside, I flip the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and cross the yard toward Ella’s apartment building, snow crunching beneath my boots.
How long has it been since I last saw Ella? How am I going to explain Parker’s absence? I shake my head. I’ll keep the details to a minimum and ask for her blood outright. She’s helped us before.
She helped Parker before, not you.
So that’s how I’ll frame it. I’ll make it all about Parker.
