Overpowered Page 13

  I shared my doubts with Oliver one afternoon after school while grabbing a couple of slices of pizza at Violetta’s. “You think we’re on a wild goose chase here? That the pulse I saw was just a meteor shower or some other cosmological event?”

  Oliver shrugged and shook his head. “I’m beginning to wonder. But then I can’t totally explain what happened to Jackson or me that day either. There have been studies about the physiological effects of electrical energy in humans causing temporary abilities.”

  “So you suddenly becoming the bionic man and Jackson this high-powered generator was just a happy coincidence?” I shot Oliver a dubious look, not quite buying that theory either.

  “Maybe that’s all the pulse was—concentrated electrical energy, similar to a bolt of lightning?” Oliver theorized. “And for whatever reason we don’t yet know, it just affected Jackson and me.”

  It sounded rational. Up to a point.

  “That doesn’t explain why my dad and your mom pretended nothing was odd about all those dead birds, let alone that anything unnatural had ever occurred,” I said. “Or why they shut us down any time we questioned them about the town curfew, or the need for excessive security. And what about Dana Fox’s disappearance the morning after the first pulse? Did she leave town simply to get away from Jackson? Or was she really abducted, like Jackson said?”

  Oliver looked at me, shook his head, and exhaled audibly, totally stumped. “I wish I knew.”

  “Knew what?” my science teacher, Mr. Bluni, asked as he suddenly appeared at our table and spotted the printouts on bioelectrical energy and electromagnetic radiation that Oliver and I were reading.

  “Nothing, Mr. Bluni,” I answered, panicking as I quickly gathered up the documents and stuffed them into my bag. “Oliver and I were just . . .”

  “Doing some extra reading on the brain-nerve cell connection in vertebrates,” Oliver interjected, doing his best to cover our tracks.

  “We’re not covering that until next semester.” Mr. Bluni eyeballed us skeptically.

  “Just trying to get a jump on things,” I announced like I was the world’s biggest ass kisser.

  “Really,” said Mr. Bluni, not quite buying what we were shoveling. He then proceeded over to his table, where he sat with several other teachers from school. He said something to them and they all turned and stared at Oliver and me. It was very unsettling.

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Oliver muttered to me, “but I think they’re talking about us.” He stood up from the table, wanting to leave.

  “I think you may be right.” I grabbed my things and hastily followed Oliver toward the exit.

  • • •

  “You’re sure we weren’t followed?” I asked Oliver as we hurried down Main Street away from Violetta’s.

  “Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know for sure,” he replied, as paranoid as I was about our strange encounter. “Just like I don’t know for sure if maybe Jackson isn’t onto something.”

  “Well the one thing I do know for sure,” I asserted, my mind reassessing our previous conversation, “is that the whole Dana story doesn’t quite add up.”

  “In what way?” Oliver asked, eager to hear my reasoning in light of what just happened.

  “By all accounts Jackson was Mr. Perfect his whole life up until Dana disappeared. It’s only afterward he melts down and becomes rebel-without-a-cause-meets-town-crazy. Right?”

  “Right,” Oliver affirmed, suddenly following my train of thought. “Right. So then if that’s true, why did Dana feel the need to run off in the first place?”

  “One of two reasons,” I answered. “Number one: Jackson was secretly crazy and Dana was the only one who knew it.”

  Oliver shook his head, not buying it. “Highly unlikely. What’s the second reason?”

  “Dana’s parents lied about what really happened to their daughter,” I responded. “The question is . . . why?”

  • • •

  Twenty-seven days after the pulse I woke up early and dressed without even thinking about what I was going to wear. As opposed to my usual habit of trying to at least wear something that didn’t make me stand out. After kissing Dad good-bye, I walked to school with Oliver, which had become our morning ritual. Attended all my classes and completed all my assignments like a good little girl. By all outward appearances I was fitting in and making friends. And I did nothing to ruin this impression. But inside I still felt like an outsider who would never really belong.

  Oliver had to take a makeup history exam, so I ate lunch with Maya, Chase, and their friends. It wasn’t awful. For a few brief moments I actually forgot about everything and found myself laughing over some silly conversation we were having about whether the ultra-uptight school nurse was getting it on with the super-hairy football coach. I must’ve gotten distracted, because next thing I knew I was scanning the quad, hoping to spot Jackson. I didn’t think anyone noticed my momentary attention lapse.

  That is until Chase suddenly startled me: “He skipped again.”

  “Who did?” I quickly recovered and looked over at Chase, acting like I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Jackson. Dude’s gone AWOL. Hasn’t been around in almost a week.” Chase gave me a sympathetic look, like he cared about me, which was totally out of character for him. I figured Maya had shared her suspicions about my feelings for Jackson with him.

  “Actually, I was looking to see if Oliver finished his exam early,” I replied in total denial that Chase might be right. Luckily, the bell rang. I grabbed my bag, anxious to go.

  Chase leaned in close, whispering in my ear, making sure no one else could hear him. But his lips touched my ear. “Word is, they may expel him.”

  “Too bad.” I pulled away from Chase. “Why are you telling me?” I shot Chase a look, pretending I couldn’t care less about Jackson. While deep down I worried about whether it was true and how he knew this information.

  “Because the asshole used to be my best friend. And whether you believe me or not, I just want to help the guy with whatever shit he’s going through. Anyway, I’d just hate to see you get hurt,” Chase added before walking away, slipping his arm around Maya, and heading off with her to class.

  • • •

  “You think we should go to Jackson’s house to make sure he’s really okay? Let him know what’s happening?” I asked Oliver as we exited the school later that afternoon on our way home. I normally wasn’t one to repeat gossip, but this seemed out of the ordinary.

  “Jackson can take care of himself,” Oliver declared, trying to keep me from worrying any more than I was. “Besides, I think Chase was playing you. Hoping you’d admit how you felt about Jackson so he could report back to Maya.” Oliver shot me a wary look and I nodded back, even though I wasn’t sure he was right about this.

  “I just hope Jackson knows what he’s doing.” I couldn’t mask my anxiety any longer.

  Neither could Oliver.

  He chimed back, “Me too.”

  • • •

  A few hours later I was sitting at my bedroom window, staring out at the pitch-black darkness. My many texts to Jackson over the last few days had gone unanswered. If Jackson really was all right, as Oliver believed, why wouldn’t he just let me know he was okay? My initial concern about Jackson’s well-being had given way to frustration and anger. Why was he icing me out like this? Had I done something wrong? Weren’t we supposed to be working together?

  I sighed and looked back out the window, dutifully continuing my watch.

  • • •

  Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . . I heard the annoying sound even before I opened my eyes. Bzzzz . . . Bzzzz . . . I woke up in bed, still dressed in my clothes. As I looked around my room, trying to figure out the source of that buzzing, I realized I was clutching my cell phone in my right hand.

  It was vibrating. I looked at the screen. Jackson had sent me a text with just one word: PULSE.

  I threw down the phone and rushed over to
the window, all my anger at him dissolving into relief that he was okay, as I glimpsed the telltale flash of shimmering neon-green light lighting up the night sky. Instantly followed by that powerful WHUMP! shooting such a forceful wave of energy right through my body that it literally blasted me back from the window, slamming me into the wall with a resounding thud.

  The pulse was happening again, much stronger than the last time. I saw it. I felt it.

  My fingers frantically texted Jackson: Saw it! What do we do??? A moment later my phone vibrated with another incoming text. This one was from Oliver: OMG!!! He had seen it too.

  I stood in the middle of my bedroom, worrying about what to do next. Do I tell my dad? Do I go outside? I started to dial Oliver’s number when I received another text. It was a warning from Jackson: Don’t go out. Keep quiet.

  It didn’t make me feel any better. I texted Jackson: U OK? Where r u??

  Jackson replied: Home. C U tomorrow.

  • • •

  Morning came none too quickly for me. Despite feeling woozy from being slammed against the bedroom wall, I hadn’t slept a wink since Jackson’s ominous text had woken me up almost four hours before. I spent all my time checking out those University of Colorado weather sites again, poring over graphs and charts. Sure enough, I found a huge spike in electromagnetic radiation at 11:13 p.m., the moment the pulse hit. It matched the previous spike, which had occurred during the last pulse. I e-mailed the information to both Jackson and Oliver with a note: U think it’s a coincidence?? Oliver replied: Hard to know. Although we didn’t exactly have a smoking gun about what caused the pulse, it was a start.

  I heard my dad fixing breakfast down in the kitchen. He called up to me, “Nica, do you want a ride?” He still asked me every morning, even though I had been walking to school with Oliver. He was leaving for work earlier than usual. I was thrilled. That meant I could get to school a half hour earlier, so I hitched a ride. I said I wanted to get to school early because I had to study for a quiz, when in fact I wanted to see how everyone at school was reacting. I texted Oliver to see if he wanted a ride too, but he was just getting up and said he’d meet me in the quad. I didn’t even have time to change my clothes before heading out the door.

  The car ride to school was uncomfortable. My dad seemed distant and even more preoccupied than usual. He’d glance over at me periodically. I was concerned that his silence had something to do with me.

  “Everything okay, Nica?” he finally asked, looking over at me with a long stare.

  “Yeah,” I lied, forcing an uncomfortable smile, when what I really wanted to do was shout: Do you have a freaking clue what the hell’s happening in this town? “How about you?”

  “I was just wondering,” he responded. “You and Oliver seem pretty tight.”

  “Yeah,” I shrugged guardedly. “I guess we are.”

  “Who else are you hanging with these days?” he asked probingly.

  “I don’t know,” I answered with a shrug. “Lots of kids.” My suspicions were definitely raised along with my blood pressure. “Why?”

  “No reason,” he replied before he turned his attention back to the road.

  Was his questioning purely innocent, or was he fishing around for something specific? I hadn’t a clue, and I wasn’t about to ask.

  • • •

  I was relieved when my father finally dropped me off at school. It was more than a replay of the day after the last pulse four weeks earlier. Kids and teachers alike seemed bad-tempered and very much on edge—even more so than the last time. I caught Mrs. Henderson slamming the car door shut on her belligerent husband as he gruffly dropped her off near the front entrance in his silver Mercedes sedan. Then I overheard a very angry Maya berating Chase over some math assignment he hadn’t finished the night before. People were pushing and shoving and wound up all around me, as if they’d been given massive doses of testosterone. Even I felt these scary waves of pulsing rage, like I had this burning urge to kick some major ass for no reason.

  I started walking toward the quad, anxious to find Oliver and Jackson and avoid an altercation, when suddenly Maya confronted me.

  “Have you ever felt so angry that you wanted to rip some asshole’s head off for no reason?” Maya demanded to know, blocking my path, her eyes wild. “Or worse, your own?”

  “Only like every other day,” I wisecracked, hoping to defuse her anger. I was leery of her volatility—and I also had no interest in getting dragged into a fight with her.

  “Well that’s not me,” she barked back. “Happy is me. Perky is me. School spirit is f-ing me. I sound totally insane, don’t I?”

  “No more than the rest of us.” I was trying to make light of the situation, but suddenly I felt concerned and a bit afraid of her, as well as afraid of my own unpredictable feelings. I might not have been Maya’s biggest fan, but she seemed genuinely unhinged—and weirdly aggressive. About tenfold more than she was after the last pulse.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I tentatively asked. I’d never heard Maya curse before.

  “Once I ditch this heinous cheerleading outfit after practice,” she growled, pulling at the zipper. “I’d torch this piece of shit if it weren’t a hundred percent fire resistant.” And then she charged off in a major huff, knocking kids aside like bowling pins.

  Meanwhile my head was left spinning from the encounter as I staggered my way into the quad. I paced back and forth, looking everywhere for Oliver. I needed to hash out what I was seeing. And we needed to come up with a strategy about what to do next with our investigation. He’d promised to be at school in time to talk. It was already seven fifty a.m. First class would start in fifteen minutes. The minutes ticked by. He was nowhere to be found. Was he now blowing me off like Jackson? A girl could develop a complex. Instead, I got annoyed—really angry. It wasn’t like the boy had major wardrobe issues to deal with in the morning.

  After anxiously waiting outside the front entrance twenty minutes I finally saw him sprinting down the street toward the school. Even though his feet barely touched the pavement, I could tell Oliver was putting the brakes on how fast he was running. He was deliberately concealing his extraordinary abilities so that no one would know the truth.

  As I stood on my tiptoes and waved my hand so that he’d find me among all the students congregating near the entrance, I felt this momentary rush of heat throughout my body. I didn’t pay much attention to it, because I was more focused on getting Oliver’s attention as he darted across the street and jogged through the center of the quad. I gestured for him to hurry over, as the morning bell was going to ring in less than five minutes. There was a lot I wanted to discuss with him before school started.

  He walked up to me and then breezed right by as if I weren’t even there.

  “Really mature,” I called out. I was in no mood, today of all days. But he kept on walking. Ignoring me. I thought Oliver was playing games, pretending he didn’t see me, and I was in no mood for it. “Hey, Oliver!” I found myself yelling.

  He stopped dead in his tracks, hearing me, and promptly spun around. A couple of students froze and stared right past me. Oliver scanned the crowd with this bewildered look on his face. As if he was looking for me but not seeing me, which was totally ridiculous, because I was standing not more than twenty feet away, staring back at him with one hand on my hip, quite exasperated. But he stared back as if he was looking right through me. Then after a few more seconds he just shrugged, turned away, and continued toward the school entrance.

  Now I was really fuming. So I shouted again, this time even louder: “That’s so not funny.”

  Oliver stopped and spun around, looking a bit angry himself. And then I noticed something: He wasn’t the only one ignoring me. Everyone else was striding past me too. Acting like they didn’t see me at all. I was getting paranoid. Was this some kind of class joke? I’d kind of expected this on my first day, not my twentieth. Or was my wardrobe so pathetic that everyone was ignoring me? I looked dow
n at what I was wearing just to make sure I hadn’t committed a serious fashion crime, and suddenly I let out a long wail. A horrified, Oh-my-God-this-can’t-be-happening-to-me kind of scream. Which was when I realized the horrifying truth:

  I couldn’t see myself! I was totally invisible!

  I started hyperventilating and began to panic. No wonder Oliver was acting like I wasn’t there. He couldn’t see me! Even my clothes had disappeared. How was that possible? What was going on? What the hell was happening to me?

  “OHHHH! MY! GODDDDD!” I screamed. It was the loudest, longest scream I’d ever unleashed—louder than the time I found a snake crawling in my bedroom in Tanzania . . . louder than the time I dived off the Maui cliffs into the Pacific Ocean. This time I screamed the loudest scream I’d ever screamed in my life—even louder than the time I rode the three-hundred-eighty-foot-tall Tower of Terror roller coaster in Australia.

  Suddenly kids were scrambling in all directions, covering their ears and spinning around to see which tool had just screamed her bloody head off at 7:55 a.m. in the middle of the school quad. Luckily, they couldn’t see me, or how humiliated I must’ve looked. Maya angrily accused Jaden of doing it. Jaden blamed Annie. Chase and his crew were scanning the crowd for who the lame-ass girl was. Most just shrugged my scream off as some sort of prank, continuing on their way inside as the school bell rang.

  Except for Oliver, who stood there, just staring straight ahead. Did he sense I must be close by? I walked toward him, trying to figure out the sanest way to break the obviously insane news that his new friend had suddenly become invisible. I was standing right in front of him, nose to nose, when all of a sudden I watched his jaw practically drop to the ground and his eyes grow wide with absolute astonishment. As if he’d just seen a ghost.