“That part is a gray area. But it’s not like I’m just letting you hang out in there. I’d be there. I’d be taking measurements. I’d be running tests,” he says carefully, watching me closely.
“You want to run tests on me.” The understanding hits me.
He doesn’t want me around. He wants to study whatever thisthingis inside me. His science brain wants to understand it.
I should have known.
He sits up, hands out. “Nothing you aren’t comfortable with,” he says. “I just want to understand the type of energy you output. It’s clear you don’t understand a lot about it. But there is potential for real scientific development here. What if your energy can be harnessed somehow, like what Lite-Brite does? Don’t you want to know where the energy comes from, where it goes? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. There has to be some explanation. I have to understand how it’s impacting the tests. It could mean the contract.”
He’s so animated and I am the great sphinx he has uncovered. Nothing more than an intriguing mystery. I am no longer a person. I chew the inside of my lip, unable to meet his gaze for the sadness that seeps into my good mood.
“You could change the world, Julia.” He speaks to me with such earnestness I have to meet his gaze.
How do I explain to him the weight of this supposed gift? How do I explain the years of pain and suffering and loneliness this has caused me? How can I tell him I just want to be normal when he seems so excited for me? I can’t. I simply can’t.
“I do want to understand more about it,” I choose to say.
“Let me help you. We will be careful. What if you could help people?”
I love that that’s where his mind goes. He’s so genuinely altruistic. He will realize in time this is nothing more than a defect, an anomaly of DNA that will never be anything more than a drain on society.
“With what time?” I ask. “You’re already working way more than any human should.”
“Don’t worry about me. It may require you working some long days though. We’d obviously have to be discreet so nobody else notices. Maybe you come back after seven? Your social life might suffer.”
I snort, completely unladylike.
“Same here.” He looks up at me conspiratorially.
“What about Lincoln?” I ask.
With that reminder, he frowns guiltily. “I haven’t thought about how that will work. But if you stay, we can make it work.”
I go back to worrying my cuticle. I don’t want to involve anybody else. It was bad enough that he might potentially get hurt. Adding a kid makes things so much more complicated.
“You can’t expect me to let you go now.”
I fight the gasp that wants to escape. How can I leave when he wants me to stay? This is such a bad idea. I know this will only bring bad news, but I’m so selfish. I’m so alone and so selfish. I just want any excuse to spend more time with him. Maybe he could actually figure it out. Maybe he could figure out how to stop it or make it go away completely?
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?” he asks with excitement.
He reaches for my hand but I pull back. “No touching,” I repeat. “For safety,” I add.
“That’ll be tricky.” He studies where he almost touched me.
I hide my smile and collect the pizza box. Maybe this is the start of something. Hope washes through me. Time after time, hurt after hurt, I always end up hoping for the best.
Little jewel …
I shut down the echo of Grandma Sue’s warning. I’m so in over my head.
