Twist (17 page)

Now for my second task. I used the hair to access his personal database. What exactly I was looking for, I had no clue. I hoped to recognize it when I saw it.
How To Infiltrate An Evil Organization 101
?

Okay, maybe not.

Most of the files were school-related: notes from class, transporter duty schedules, bytes and bytes of Shifter logs. He really was a kick-arse transporter. I marveled at Wyck's meticulousness, down to his notation that my friend Pennedy had accidentally broken a nail off in tsarist Russia. And, hmm, I scrolled through the last few weeks of log entries. It looked like Mimi wasn't the only one with increased Buzz levels. Wonder what was causing it.

But that wasn't why I was here. ICE.

“Give me all the files pertaining to the Neo program.” A handful hovered in front of me. I sifted through the top ones. The first was just the notification from Lafferty that Wyck had been approved. Nothing new there. There was a pamphlet of FAQs. Will NeoShifting hurt? Some people experience minor discomfort. (Ha!) Should I worry about creating temporal paradoxes? NeoShifting is perfectly safe for all involved. (What the what, you liary liars?) How much does it cost? Payment plans are available. (Price: one soul.)

Nope. I needed the real information, the fine print. I wasn't going to find it here, though.

As I closed all the files, a message popped up for Wyck. I glanced at the soligraphic envelope and did a double take.

Jafney.

She'd wreaked enough havoc as it was. What was she up to now? I dragged the message over to where Wyck laid on the couch and used his finger to break the seal on the envelope.

It was an invitation. She and Finn would just lurrrv it if Wyck and I could join them for dinner tonight. Yeah, and I would just lurrrv to tell her where precisely she could shove said invitation. I started my response but stopped mid-sentence. Why was she doing this? If she wanted to torment me with her relationship with Finn, she could do that a lot more easily than through a double date. She didn't need to parade my relationship with Wyck around Finn. He'd already made his choice. And it was odd that she'd contact Wyck rather than me about this. So again, back to “Why?”

I drummed my fingers against Wyck's couch until I realized it wasn't his couch but his head. Jafney's appearance had coincided so perfectly with the change to my timeline. And it actually wasn't my fake relationship with Wyck that had kept me from Finn. It was her. She was the one who had convinced Finn that I had cheated on him. Her word. Well, her word and a photo that I still shuddered at the thought of Finn seeing. But even that was proof she'd continued to follow me.

Why?

She was up to something. And I wanted to find out what.

I changed my response to sound like Wyck. “Sounds plinky! Where and when?”

Her reply came almost instantly. Like she'd been waiting by her message box. “Tonight. 6:00. Virtual Vacay.”

That would give Wyck the whole day to sleep this off. Hopefully, that would be enough time.

“See you there.” I sent the message then trashed it with a frown. I stared at the snoozing lump on the couch.

This was going to be a long day.

*   *   *

“So fuzzy.” Wyck stuck his tongue out for the umpteenth time. “I can't believe I slept all day.”

Another thing he'd said umpteen times in a scratchy, groggy voice since I'd woken him up an hour ago to tell him of our double date plans.

“It's a good thing,” I said. “You'll be rested for your Shift tomorrow.”

“The weird thing is that I still feel tired.”

“Hmm.” I flipped the settings menu around. “What sounds good?”

Virtual Vacay was one of those places that had surged in popularity a few decades ago after Shifters came out of hiding. The place was (in theory) supposed to mimic the experience of Shifting. You picked a virtual destination and time period and then spent a few hours holo-recreating there. Shifters had always kind of rolled our eyes at it, and now that ICE was offering the real thing, I wondered how long it would take them to put this place out of business.

“How about a French bistro?” Wyck didn't even bother looking at the menu. “Ever been to France?”

“Which century?” I asked. The country had lost its charm for me after a pigeon poop incident in the nineteenth century. Plus, I wanted to avoid anything that could be construed as romantic in any era.

“Doesn't say,” he said.

“How about—?”

“Ooh, a beach in the Maldives!” squealed a voice in my left ear, peering over my shoulder at the “destination” options.

“Hello, Jafney.” I purposefully selected another choice before she sat down. Any other choice. Finn didn't need to be reminded of her dolphinesque swim moves and cute bikini bod. “What about a meadow picnic?”

Finn pulled Jafney's chair out for her and started to sit down next to her.

“Y'know what?” she stopped him. “Let's shake things up. I'll sit next to Wyck. Finn, you sit next to Bree.”

I slouched back in my seat as Wyck switched seats with Finn. What was Jafney playing at?

The table transformed to a floating checkered tablecloth. Wildflowers and trees sprouted around us, and a litter of baby bunnies skittered past a chipmunk that was acting a little too friendly and personable to be real.

“Oh, pout,” said Jafney. “I love the beach.”

Every time I saw her and Finn together, I felt like an amputee, pushing down a spasm of phantom limb pain. All the while being forced to watch someone else walk around with her leg.

Jafney brushed her hand against the order screen. “Whoops,” she said as if it had been by accident. The pastoral green around us was replaced with a wide, white stretch of sand. Turquoise, rolling waves lapped at our toes. I could feel the wet through my shoes as if I wasn't even wearing any.

“No beach,” I said. The beach belonged to Finn and me. She might have his time right now. She might even have his heart. She even took the waffles. She couldn't have the beach. That was mine. I slapped the order screen, and the meadow reappeared.

“Meadows are so overdone.” Slap. The beach.

“I'm scared of the water.” Slap. Welcome back, bunnies.

“I hate the—”

“How about”—Wyck placed his hand gently around Jafney's wrist and pulled it away—“a French bistro?”

All signs of wildlife disappeared as he pressed the order screen. La Vie en Rose began playing in the background, and we found ourselves at a candlelit table with a fabulous view of the Eiffel Tower. Fine. As long as there were no pigeons.

“Ooh, I love France,” Jafney said.

“Ahh, the Francais.” Finn pulled up the food menu and buried his nose in it.

As if Jafney and I hadn't just had the arm-wrestling match of the millennium under his very nose.

“Finn, you must not see stuff like this in your ti—” Jafney slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she'd almost said.

“Yes.” I rushed in to cover Jafney's blunder. “You must not have Virtual Vacays in your
town
. From what I hear, there aren't a lot of modern conveniences. In your town of, uhh…” I found myself at a sudden loss.

“Old New Mexico.” Finn took a calm sip of his drink. I ignored the chuckle hiding behind his glass.

I was too busy fighting back my own.

“What's Old New Mex—?” Jafney started to ask, but I kicked her so hard under the table that I jammed my toe. Old New Mexico was the fake place Finn and I had created as an excuse for his somewhat anachronistic behaviors.

But come on, Jafney. No one could be that dense.

“Yeah, I'm not familiar with that area either.” Wyck just seemed to be making small talk, but I still wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. The last thing I needed was a fistfight to erupt at the table between him and Finn. Until I reminded myself yet again that Wyck had no reason to fight Finn. In Wyck's current world, Finn was nothing to me.

Finn looked up from his menu at Jafney and scrunched up his nose. “Wonder if their crepes are as good as Mom's.”

Apparently, in Finn's world, I was nothing to him either.

“No one's crepes could be as good as your mom's, Muffin Wuffin,” said Jafney.

“You're the Muffin Wuffin,” he said.

“No, you are.” She tickled him under the chin. “You're the Muffin Wuffin.”

“You're the—”

“I think we can all agree that everyone at this table is a Muffin Wuffin!” I practically yelled, not bothering to look away from my menu.

When I finally did glance up, every eye was glued to me.

“Are you okay?” asked Wyck.

Arghhh. So sick of that question. No, I was not okay. I wasn't okay watching Finn canoodle with Jafney. I wasn't okay pressing my lips to Wyck's as if it didn't make my blood curdle, much less liked it. I wasn't okay with the fact that at any moment my reverter could glow green and I could find out that someone had planted a bomb in my dorm room six months ago and all of this was for naught.

“I'm fine,” I said. Or at least I would be. I grabbed my fake, holigraphic cloth napkin from my lap and threw it on my plate as I stood up. “I need some air.”

“We're surrounded by air,” said Jafney, a smirk spreading across her face.

“The non-pixelated kind.” I stomped away from the table. As soon as I was around the corner, I kicked myself. Real Bree had yet again screwed up. Fake Bree had to fix this. I had to be the perfect girlfriend. And the perfect ex-girlfriend. Too many lives depended on it. Wyck was my ticket into ICE. Jafney's gaping blabberhole proved a threat to that. I had to guard that ticket at all costs. And I had to protect Finn from himself if he still refused to leave. I should never have come here tonight. My heart had sucker-punched my brain. No more.

I took a deep breath and was about to return to the table when Jafney popped her head around the corner.

“Hi-ey,” she said.

“Hi.”

“I … I'm sorry about that back there,” she said. “I almost blew Finn's cover, didn't I? It's just that this has been a really intense few days.”

“That's one word for it.”

“I know you two were pretty close,” she added. “You and Finn.”

“In the past,” I choked out. All three days of it. Finn's betrayal stabbed afresh.

“Exactly.” She turned to head back to the table.

“Out of curiosity”—I gripped her upper arm—“why tonight's double date?”

Her expression darkened.

“Sometimes the best way to get past former feelings is to plow through them.”

Unbelievable. In her twisted mind, she actually thought she was helping me. I had no choice but to follow her back to the table. I froze as soon as we entered the space. The setting had changed. It was the same picnic table as before, now covered with the food we'd ordered. But there was no way I'd be able to stomach a single bite.

Gone was the French bistro. In its place was a vast expanse of grass. Familiar buildings dotted the modern scene. But that wasn't what drew my lunch into my throat.

Jutting directly over us, looming like a blunt blade, was the Washington Monument.

“I don't like this spot,” I said, glaring at Finn, whose jaw had set into a steel trap. “At all.”

“I didn't choose it,” Finn said slowly.

“I did,” said Wyck with an icy smile, calculated and controlled. He was experiencing a flash. I could tell. And it was the worst possible one. The last time I had been this close to the Washington Monument with him, he'd been busy trying to throw Finn and me off it.

I slid into my seat and stole a side-glance at Finn. He was still unreadable, but his posture was even stiffer than before if that was possible.

“What, umm, what made you pick this spot?” I asked Wyck. He didn't answer, and I looked over to see why. He was slouched over, and when he sat back up he was his same jovial self as before. Whatever flash of the other timeline that had prompted his choice, it was gone now.

“I know it's not very exotic,” Wyck said, “but it popped out at me for some reason. You have to admit, it's a plinky spot for a picnic. I wonder if they have a view from the top.”

He pulled the menu back up.

I held my breath. I was having my own flashback. My knee shook under the table. The same knee Wyck had shattered. I waited for him to snap again. But he just stared at the white marble above us, munching away on a breadstick.

“Reminds me of something,” Wyck said.

Jafney giggled. I couldn't believe it, but I was actually thankful for her presence in that moment.

“Not that.” Wyck laughed.

My tension faded as we all joined in the laughter—Finn's and mine both fake. Jafney asked Wyck how he was feeling about his Shift the next day. While they chatted, Finn brushed his hand against the order screen, and the Monument faded away.

In its place, the ocean materialized.

“Thank you,”
I mouthed to him, but his only reply was a terse nod.

Jafney was placated by the waves and as soon as we'd finished eating, she bounded up.

“Where to now?” she said.

“Oh, do you have to leave early?” Wyck asked. He looked genuinely disappointed, and Jafney seemed positively delighted at the extra dose of attention.

“No, silly,” she said. “I meant where should we go for the next part?”

Finn engrossed himself in the activity menu, the real reason people came to this place. I'm not sure where exactly nonShifters got their ideas about what we did on missions, but apparently, they thought it was all hiking past waterfalls and scaling rocky crags. Jafney joined Finn, and I sat there silently praying they didn't choose something that involved heights or water. My stomach was already set to go into revolt.

Wyck stood off to the side, quiet. I wondered if he was replaying any fragmented memories of the Washington Monument, if this was the first time they'd flashed in his mind. I walked over to him.