Page 53 of The Dysasters

“Hey, that thing you were doing with the air and the trees—it was awesome.”

“Oh, thanks. I did it by accident. You heard it and saw it, too, didn’t you? The air music?”

“Yeah, I did. It was—it wasincredible. Like the earth was playing music for us.”

“Not the earth—the air. It started before you joined me, but then when we were dancing and singing, and I was, well, distracted.” She paused and he saw her cheeks go very pink. “Anyway, I think I just figured something important out. The less I think about trying to get air to do what I want it to do, and just relax and let the feelings sweep through me, the easier it is. I’m realizing that it’s thefeelpart that’s most important.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like the time you almost maimed yourself by bailing out of the truck, and the time I smacked you with my hand air cannons—I was feeling negative things. First I was pissed. Then I was scared by the dinosaur.”

“Percheron,” Tate corrected.

“Whatever. The point is when my feelings are negative I invoke the bad qualities of air. But when I’m relaxed, or happy, I invoke good things. Like, today it was just so pretty out here, and sunny without being too hot or cold—andamazingly enough it wasn’t raining—and for a second I thought I heard music in the wind, so I started playing around with it. Then you were here, too, twirling me around and singing with me, and I was having fun—not thinking, just feeling happy—and you see what happened, my tree music.” She shrugged her shoulders, obviously struggling with whether she should be embarrassed or not. “I guess it’s not very helpful to be able to make trees accompany me like a band. I mean, it’s not like that’ll stop the next tornado or protect us from the Core Four or anything like that.”

“Don’t be so sure. It’s about control, and you were showing great control. Way more than me, that’s for sure. Foster, you’re getting better and better with air. All I’m getting better and better with is grocery shopping,” he said.

“That’s an excellent skill, and one I do not have. I hate grocery shopping. I’ve, uh, been meaning to tell you how much I appreciate you going to the store as often as you do. It’s giving me time to feel at home. So, thanks.”

Tate had to force himself not to hang his head in shame. He knew the dirty truth. He didn’t do the grocery shopping to help Foster. He did it so that he was free to call his g-pa. Feeling awful, he heard himself blurt, “Hey, I think I figured out what some of Stewart’s equations might mean.”

Foster’s happy, open look flattened and then closed off. “Riiiiight. The jock deciphered the brilliant mad scientist’s equations.”

Tate felt his cheeks flush. “That’s a real bitchy thing to say.”

“Bitchy or true? Why do men always assume when a woman tells it like it is that she’s being a bitch? Can’t she just be telling the truth?”

“Not when it’snotthe truth. I’mnota dumb jock, and I’m tired of you stereotyping me. I thought we’d gotten past that.”

Foster sighed dramatically. “Not if the stereotype is true.”

“It’s not!”

“Really? Let me remind you that your answer to my question, What is your favorite book, wasSports Illustrated. Sports Illustrated,Tate. You actually said that. And that is a classic dudebro dumb jock answer.”

“I only said that because I thought you were so beautiful that I blurted stupid shit. I turn into a moron around a pretty girl,” he said, glaring at her.

“Wait. Back up. You saidthoughtandwere.” Foster’s green eyes skewered him.

“Huh?” Why were girls so damn difficult to understand, and what the hell was she talking about?

“You said it in past tense. Like youusedto think I’m pretty. What? I’m not so pretty now?”

Tate grinned, finally getting it. “Hum… I guess not because I can answer you for real now.” Ignoring her frown, he rolled on. “Choosing my favorite book is tough because there are so many of them, but if you want my top five I’ll try to narrow it down for you. Gotta give a shout out to my favorite horror writer, Ray Bradbury, andFahrenheit 451.Man, that book is like a song. Bradbury’s figurative language is unbelievable. ‘The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us,’” Tate quoted. “Fantastic, right? And then there’s Richard Preston. I love science, biology, physics, chemistry—all those things. Preston’s books are super gross, but great. I likedThe Hot Zone,butDemon in the Freezeris even better.”

“Uh…” Foster began, but Tate was on a roll and he kept on rolling.

“But just so you don’t think I’m one of those guys who only reads ‘guy books,’” Tate air quoted, “I’ll round out my top five with three women authors. I don’t like genre labels, but YA authors are killing it right now with their awesomeness. Last year I read Laini Taylor’sDaughter of Smoke and Bonetrilogy. Damn, those books rocked! But I’m not counting them as three. So…” he tapped his chin, thinking. “I know! S. E. Hinton’sThe Outsidersis a classic. I even made my dad take me to Tulsa one spring break so I could check it out.” He paused again and gave the very silent Foster a raised-brow look. “The city wasn’t anything like the book, but I did visit the center of the universe there. Anyway, one more. It’s gotta be Renee Ahdieh’s retelling of the Shahrzad story,The Wrath and the Dawn,and its sequel,The Rose and the Dagger. My mom turned me on to them, and they were just flat-out cool. So, there you have it. My real top five favorite books. For right now. I’ve been checking out those thrillers in Cora’s library, though. Would you mind if I borrowed some of them?”

When he stopped talking he realized Foster was staring at him as if she’d never really seen him before.

“Yeah, you can borrow any book you want.” Foster cleared her throat. “Well, I admit it when I’m wrong, and I was wrong. You’re not a dumb jock cliché.” Foster’s lips twitched again as the beginnings of a smile formed on her surprised face. “You do a great impression of one, though.”

He felt himself relax. She actually admitted she was wrong! And she was almost smiling at him. Tate shrugged. “Yeah, well, I am planning on using a football scholarship as well as an academic scholarship to get me through college so I won’t be stuck in debt forever. It takes a lot of education to become a doctor.”

“A doctor?”

Tate nodded and tried not to sound too gleeful. “I’m good at science. Really good, as in scholarship-level good. I want to be a neurologist. My g-ma died of Alzheimer’s. It was awful. I’m going to find the cure.”