Erica O'Rourke - Dissonance

“Someone’s going to come by any minute,” Simon told him. “Can we move her?”

“Better now,” I slurred. A little of the tension went out of Eliot’s body.

“You’re better,” he agreed. “Welcome back.”

“The hell she is,” Simon growled. “Del? Can you hear me?”

I struggled to sit up, the cement floor cold and uncomfortable. “I have perfect hearing.”

“Not anymore,” Eliot said grimly, brushing sweaty strands of hair from my face. “And he’s right. We need to get you out of here.”

“Wait. Did it work? Are the trophies . . . ?”

“Screw the trophies,” said Simon. “I’m taking you home.”

Eliot touched my cheek. “It worked. Barely.”

“I’m bringing the car around,” Simon said. “Stay put.”

I drifted off. When I came to again, I asked Eliot, “Did you see me on the map?”

He made a face that was almost—but not quite—a smile. “Your boyfriend pulled me out of orchestra. He thought you were acting crazy.”

“Ah.”

“I told him that you’re reckless, not crazy.”

“Don’t forget selfish,” I said.

“That too.”

“What did he say?”

Simon rejoined us. “I said he could help you or I could break his legs. I’m more than a pretty face.”

I drank deeply, feeling better with every second. “You are pretty, though.”

“Ruggedly handsome,” he said, and helped me to my feet. “Let’s go.”

There wasn’t a lot of talking on the ride home. I concentrated on not throwing up, and both boys were silent. I didn’t know what Simon was thinking, but the computer in Eliot’s brain was definitely working overtime.

No one was home—even Monty was gone—so the boys helped me upstairs. After they’d settled me on the bed, Simon turned slowly, taking in the stars scattered everywhere, the maps I’d drawn, the battered furniture, the collection of instruments around my music stand. He looked like I must, every time I Walk into a new world. “Breadcrumbs,” he said softly.

“I came home,” I pointed out. “Told you I would.”

Some emotion I couldn’t read crossed his face.

Eliot coughed.

“Can you give us a minute?” I said to Simon. He looked at Eliot, then me, and nodded.

“More pop would be good,” Eliot said. “Her blood sugar’s dropped off the charts.”

“Got it.” Simon disappeared down the stairs.

When he’d gone, Eliot paced the room. “You shouldn’t have gone in there alone.”

“Turns out I didn’t,” I said softly.

“I would have helped. Even if he hadn’t threatened to kneecap me. You know that, don’t you?”

I hadn’t. I’d assumed Eliot was as selfish as me, and my eyes filled. “I’m sorry. For everything. For being so stupid and horrible and scared. You are totally right to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He sat down on the bed. “I’m angry. But we’re a team. Always have been . . .”

“. . . always will be.” I dashed a hand over my eyes. “I screwed up.”

“Yeah,” he said, and I knew from the way his voice caught we were talking about more than frequency poisoning. “He shouldn’t be able to Walk.”

I winced. “He told you?”

“I can’t work with limited information. And I can’t believe you told him about us.”

“He caught me. I couldn’t lie.” When he raised an eyebrow, calm and skeptical, I amended, “I didn’t want to lie. Speaking of which . . . I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

“Shocker.” He sighed. “What now?”

“There’s something wrong with him. Really wrong, Eliot. He was one of the breaks in Park World. His Echoes have been seeing me ever since. I run into him constantly. Every inversion I’ve found involves him. It’s not just the SRT, or the Walking. It’s something bigger. I think he’s caught in the anomaly.”

“We have to tell the Consort,” he said. “They’ll handle it.”

“They’d handle it by making him disappear.” I grabbed his hand. “Addie knows I’ve been Walking to see him. She’s going to tell Lattimer as soon as she finds proof. I need to get him clear of the anomaly before she turns us in.”

He drew his hand away. “And you need my help.”

I’m good enough to use, but not enough to love. Even woozy and exhausted, I recognized the danger. “No. If you’re involved, they’ll punish you, too. I’ll take care of this.”

“Yeah. You’ve got things totally under control,” he deadpanned. He kissed my forehead, eyes troubled. “Rest up. I’ll be back later.”

“Eliot . . .”

He waved and jogged down the stairs. I heard him say something to Simon, their voices too low to make out, and I sagged back against the headboard.

“I hate sitting here,” I said when Simon came back in.

“Bummer for you,” he said, and handed me a bottle of root beer. “Drink up.”

When I’d finished, he set the bottle on the floor and stretched alongside me. I shifted until my head rested on his chest, directly above his heart.

“You know, this is not how I was planning to get into your bedroom.” He trailed his fingers up and down my arm.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Not disappointed. Worried. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Frequency poisoning wears off fast.” To begin with, at least. The next time would be worse. I nestled in closer to Simon and tried to sound nonchalant. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow morning.”

“Eliot said you’re supposed to stay put for another day or two.”

“Eliot worries.”

“Eliot is in love with you.” There was no censure in his voice, only calm certainty.

“I’m such an idiot.” I closed my eyes, let the beating of Simon’s pulse resonate through me. “How did you know?”

“Recognized the signs.”

“Oh.” My eyes flew open. I didn’t know what startled me more—what he seemed to be implying, or how much I wanted him to mean it.

The silence between us grew weighty and he laced his fingers with mine. “You can’t take off like that again.”

I twisted to look at him. “How else will we find a cure for your mom?”

“It won’t help us if your brain is fried,” he said. “I couldn’t understand you when you came back.”

“Side effect.”

“What about next time? Or the time after that? No more, Del.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I said sharply. “You’ve known about Walking for forty-eight hours. I’ve done it my whole life. This is my choice, not yours.”

“What about rule number three? My mom has to sign off on it? Does she get a say?”

“I meant the treatment itself. You can’t tell her about the Walkers. What would you say? ‘Hey, Mom, do you mind if my girlfriend goes into an alternate dimension to find a cure for your cancer? It’s kind of dangerous, and it might not work, but are you in?’ She’ll have you committed.”

“I was thinking I’d try for a little more subtlety.”

“We stick to the plan. I find the cure, we figure out how to make it work here, and then we loop her in.”

“She’s not going to go for it, Del. Trust me.” Tension radiated down his arm; his words were tinged with bitterness. “She wouldn’t even want you to look.”

“You’re angry with her,” I said softly. “She’s accepted it’s terminal, but you haven’t.”

His body angled away from me, and I squirmed until we were face-to-face.

“It doesn’t matter how far down you are in a game,” he said. “You play until you hear the buzzer. You give it everything.”

“Until you can’t,” I said. “What if she’s tired of fighting?”

“Then I fight for her. But that’s my job, not yours.”

“I won’t stop Walking,” I told him. “Not even for you. You might as well let me help.”