S. Bodeen - The Fallout

I tell him, “There’s something you need to know that I’ve been keeping from you. My name is Eli Yanakakis. I am Rex’s son.” Saying it aloud wasn’t as bad as I had anticipated.

He started to say something, but I kept going. “I have something that may help your research. But you cannot ask where I got it.”

He nods. “No questions. I understand.”

I open the backpack and pull out the gene gun. I set it on his desk.

His eyes widen as he carefully picks it up.

I say, “I think… I hope there may be genetic material in there that can help your research.” I don’t tell him that I had his original research on the flash drive for weeks, and that it was recently destroyed in an explosion. I hope the contents of the gene gun will make up for that.

He looks at me. “But where—”

I set a finger on my lips and shake my head.

He smiles. “No questions.”

We shake hands and he walks me outside.

On my way back to the SUV, I notice the large building with the pool. I go inside and hear the sounds of laughter and splashing water. I watch the kids in the pool and sit on the bench Verity shared with me that first day.

Will I ever stop being conflicted, wondering whether blowing up the island has hurt any chances there ever were of curing progeria? My only hope is that Dr. Barkley can do something with the gene gun.

I sit here, hoping no one will ask what I’m doing. Because I’m sitting here, waiting, for only one reason: I am hoping Verity might show up.

After forty-five minutes pass, I realize she’s not going to be here. I glance at my watch, wondering whether I should stay a few more moments. Or give up.

“EJ?”

My breath catches in my throat as I look up.

Verity is standing in front of me, wearing a flowered miniskirt and bright orange hoodie. She looks so wonderful to me.

All I can do is smile at her. Now that she’s here, I’m not sure what to say.

She asks, “Why are you here?”

I say, “I had an appointment with Dr. Barkley.”

She rolls her eyes slightly. “Another paper to write?”

I start to say something to appease her, then stop. My plan is to be honest with her, and that means being true to myself, who I am. I am done trying to run from it. “No. There was never any paper.”

She frowns.

I say, “And my name isn’t EJ. It’s Eli. Eli Yanakakis.”

She sinks down onto the bench beside me, like her legs have given out.

Go ahead. Make your judgments. Decide I’m some spoiled, rich-kid freak.

“Why?” she asks.

I am confused. “Why what?”

She asks, “Why have you been lying to me?”

The question throws me off for a moment. “Because… of who I am.”

Verity raises her eyebrows. “So you lie whenever you meet someone?”

I shake my head. “No. I mean… I never meet anyone. You’re the first girl I’ve met since—”

“Since you came back from… down there.”

So she knew. The moment I said my name aloud, she’d probably had news reports flash through her head.

I nod. “And you must think I’m a freak.”

Her tone softens. “God, no. I mean, I don’t know what happened down there. But I think you’re nice, and—” A look passes across her face. “Is this what you were going to tell me the other day? When we were going to meet?”

I nod.

“What happened?”

I blow out a breath and don’t say anything for a moment. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I have time.” She smiles.

I smile back. “Next time.” I look down at my hands. “Listen, it’s… it’s hard for me to trust people. And I’m sorry I lied.” Then I reach out with both hands and lightly grasp her elbows, pulling her toward me. “If you give me another chance, I—”

She doesn’t pull away, but her eyes narrow. “You’ll what?”

I don’t know.

Part of me wants to let her go, back away, give up on it all, and never see her again. That would be the simple way.

But I am Eli Yanakakis. And it seems to be a genetic flaw that I never do anything the simple way.

I take a deep breath, then move my hands up to cradle her face.

I lean in, close my eyes, and kiss her. When I pull my face back, she smiles up at me. “That’s what I wanted to do when I saw you.”

My face gets hot and my grin widens.

“So can we reschedule our date?”

“It was a date?” she asks, smiling.

I take a chance. “Yes. It was. It was absolutely a date.”

She laughs. “Then I would be honored, Mr. Yanakakis.”

“Call me Eli.”

“Eli.”

Then Verity grabs hold of my hand and squeezes, like she never wants to let go. And that happens to be fine with me.

Kudos to Scott Mendel and Liz Szabla, who always do and say the right things to spur me on. I am grateful to Jean Feiwel and the entire team at Macmillan. Without them, my words on a page would remain simply words on a page.

As always, love to Tim, Bailey, and Tanzie for dealing with a messy house/hungry pets/lack of meals at times. All my extended family is amazing: extra mahalo to Wendy and Rudy, who provide me with an ever-ready Big Island retreat.

There are people who make my life better just by being in it. And they make me laugh. In case you don’t know who you are: Jessi Eaton, Karen Dinsmore, Jalyn Thompson, Linda Beck, Maranda Robbins, Lori Dresen, and Kristi Hanson.

Thanks to Mark Roughsedge for early feedback, and the rest of my fellow blogging Spuds on One Potato… Ten: Your support as we all traverse this crazy business together means the world to me. But when it comes down to it, this book would not have happened without the readers of The Compound . All the letters, e-mails, and the students I met in schools and through Skype all wanting to know: What happens next? You finally persuaded me that I needed to know, too. I hope you like what I found.

An Imprint of Macmillan

THE FALLOUT. Copyright © 2013 by S. A. Bodeen. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available

ISBN: 978-0-312-65011-7 (hardcover)/978-1-4668-4842-9 (ebook)

Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

First Edition: 2013

macteenbooks.com

eISBN 9781466848429