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Dee had left the room and Gran was staring at me. “You are not making any sense, child. What is all this fuss about Dee’s baby book?”

I clasped and unclasped my hands, trying to compose myself. “The last thing Ginnie asked me was to take care of it. She said it was important. Maybe it isn’t, but because it meant so much to her, I have to keep it safe.” I threw up my hands. Gran didn’t have to believe me, but it was the best I could come up with.

“I don’t know why anyone would take that.” She rubbed her chin, studying my face. “The police think it was someone looking for meds. There weren’t any here, that’s why your grandfather and I were out. His scrips needed filling.”

My mind was racing. I could see that Gran didn’t believe what I’d said about the book, but she didn’t seem to want to pressure me either. “You called the police?” I asked.

“Of course I did. They’ve been here and gone,” she said. “Since nothing was missing, that I was aware of”—her eyes narrowed at me—“they left. We’re supposed to call if we discover anything is gone. Are you sure you didn’t just misplace Dee’s baby book?”

“No, I’m not sure.” Actually, I was sure. I knew I hadn’t misplaced it. And I was sure Ed had broken in and stolen the book. How I was going to get it back, I didn’t have any idea.

“You’d better check your room,” she said. “When we got home everything was a mess. If you had anything important, besides that book—”

Dee came into the kitchen. “I looked through everything, Gran. I’ve still got all my stuff. But it feels creepy in my room now. Nina, will you come with me and help me straighten up? Please? I don’t want to be in there alone.”

Gran motioned us out of the kitchen. “I’ll make sandwiches. I don’t think any of us feels much like eating a big dinner.”

I knew I didn’t. I felt sick that Ed had gone through our things. I wanted to wrap myself up in a big blanket, cover myself from head to toe, anything to stop the naked feeling I had.

“Come on, Nina.” Dee took me into her room. “See what a mess?” Her clothes were strewn everywhere. Like me, clothes were about all she had.

I took a deep breath, picked up a shirt, and started folding.

“I’m glad they didn’t mess this up.” Dee held out her baby book.

“What are you doing with that?” I snatched it out of her hands.

“What’s the big deal? It’s mine, isn’t it? I saw it when I was looking for my brown shirt you borrowed. I took it to school for Genealogy Day.”

Panic surged through me. I took a deep breath. “Dee, I promised Ginnie I’d keep this safe. Do you mind if I take it?” I put on my best sad face, which wasn’t hard. “It makes me feel close to Mom.” Skivs. That was low, but I couldn’t let Dee traipse all over the city with the book.

Her face softened. “Okay. I don’t need it anyway. But remember that it’s mine.”

“Of course.”

I finished helping Dee get her room in order, then I went to mine. One of my rapidos was broken, but the rest I put back in their case. I found Ginnie’s picture facedown by the wall; the frame was chipped, but the glass wasn’t broken. I righted my makeshift dresser and put her picture on the top. Then I laid the book on the bottom. Later, I’d cover it with my clothes again.

After we ate, I helped Gran get everything in the living room put back in place. Then I went straight to my room. I piled every piece of clothing in the center of the floor. Taking them, one by one, I started putting them in order.

Sal hates me,
I thought.

I refolded a shirt.

It was sheer luck that he’d happened on Dee and me at just the right time. I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.

I put the shirt in the box.

It’s okay that he hates me. He’s an overbearing know-it-all who only wanted to find out things about my father. He never cared about me
.

I grabbed a pair of jeans and folded them.

That kiss meant nothing, nothing at all. I’m fine
.

I stuffed the jeans next to the shirt.

I don’t need some arrogant, underhanded boyfriend
.

I remembered Sal saying,
A boyfriend,
huh? I closed my eyes. I could feel his closeness, smell his scent, see his eyes ...

I piled two more shirts and another pair of jeans on top of the others.

I called Sandy. She was at a party—I could hear music and people in the background—we didn’t talk long. Besides, I wasn’t going to tell her about Sal anyway.

“I’ll call you when I’m on the express tomorrow,” she yelled through her PAV.

I couldn’t wait to see her. I liked Wei a lot, but I longed for the comfort of my best girlfriend, which I hoped she still was. Even if we never ever talked about Sal, just being around her would make me feel so much closer to normal. Closer to the way I’d been before my life had been turned upside down.

Maybe, I thought, she wouldn’t get chosen for FeLS. If I got into the Art Institute, I might be able to get a tiny apartment. Sandy could come stay with me whenever she wanted. The daydream was nice, but reality took over.

I could not forget that someone, most likely Ed, had broken in looking for something. But on further reflection, he couldn’t possibly know about the book. The only people in the Infinity machine room when Ginnie’d told me were me and her.

I pushed the rest of my clothes on the floor and plopped into the middle of the borrowed inflato-mat. All kinds of awful thoughts started crowding into my brain, making me crazy. I got up and went into the living room. Pops was asleep in his chair and Gran was reading.

“I’m going out,” I said.

“Where?” Gran asked. “It’s late.”

“Just outside. I need some air.” I could tell she was concerned. “Look, I’ll be fine. I’ll be just outside the lobby. What can happen there? I won’t be long, I promise.” Before she could protest, I had my coat on and was out the door.

I didn’t stay right outside the building. I went down to the river, ending up at the oasis where Sal and I had argued. Plopping down on the bench, I stared out at the black waves slapping up against the pilings. I knew this wasn’t smart, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to think for a little bit. Everything felt off to me. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t sketched or drawn anything since Ginnie died. Ginnie. The river looked ominous and cold. I wondered how my father could possibly have survived falling into it. And if he had, like Ginnie’d said—

The sounds of people coming my way snapped me back to the present. I shrank into the corner of the bench, out of the direct glow of a nearby streetlamp. The circle of light fell on two homeless women walking down the path. I couldn’t make out what the older of the two was saying, but there was something about the younger one that seemed familiar. They stopped for a moment and the covering over the younger one’s head slipped down. I gasped. “Joan?”

“Who’s there?” The girl clutched the arm of her companion.

I leaped off the bench and ran over to the women. “Joan, it’s Nina.” I started to touch her, but she pulled back.

“Do I know you?” She cowered behind the other woman.

“I’m Mike’s friend ... Nina. Remember?”

“Mike? Who’s Mike?” She turned to the woman. “Do I know Mike?” Her voice began to tremble. “He’s not going to come for me, is he?” She grabbed my arm and terror spread across her face.

“Mike’s your brother. He’s not coming for you. He doesn’t know where you are. Neither does your mother. You should let them know—”

The woman grabbed me, pulling me close. I could smell the stench of garbage on her. “Sometimes she don’t remember nothing except what those FeLS trainers did to her. It would be best if you don’t remember seeing her here.”

With that warning, she shoved me backward, threw a protective arm around Joan, and the two of them melted into the shadows.

Thank goodness the next morning was Saturday, because I’d barely slept the night before. All I’d thought about was Joan. I couldn’t forget that look of fear on her face. I still hadn’t decided if I should tell Mike I’d seen her. Or if I should, like that woman had said, forget all about it.

I needed to put everything out of my mind, once and for all. After breakfast, I packed up my art tote and took Dee to her friend Maddie’s, making them promise to stay inside. Which was easy considering the temperature had dipped into the thirties and it was threatening a dreary mix of rain and snow. Coat collar up, I braced myself against the wind, waiting for the number 56.

While I waited, a trannie with a couple of guys inside stopped at the light. “Want a ride, babe? Two for the price of one.” I could see their XVIIIs.

I slid my coat sleeve up, showing my bare wrist.

“We won’t tell.” The guy doing the talking grinned.

The trans pulled up behind them and I hurried on. What was I going to do when I had my tattoo? It wasn’t going to be easy turning down guys who thought the tattoo was a free pass. And I wasn’t some martial arts expert like Wei. Maybe she’d teach me some moves for real.

When I got to the Art Institute I went straight for the Twenty-first Century Postwars exhibit. I took out my paper and rapidos and spent the entire day sketching. Several people stopped to look over my shoulder at my efforts. It didn’t bother me; I was used to it.

“Nice,” one lady said.

“Are you a Creative?” a man asked.

“I will be,” I said. Would I? I hoped so. Ginnie had worked so long and hard for me to have this chance.

“Take this.” He handed me a card. “When you get your designation, come and see me. I could use a bit of help.”

When he left, I read his card.

That’s what it said. What I read between the lines was “hope.”

After dinner, I helped Gran clear the table. On the way to pick up Dee from Maddie’s, I’d listened to verts; their mindless chatter helped to pull me from the world inside my head back into reality. A particular one about dressing for that “someone special” stuck in my mind. It had made me question my usual jeans and T-shirt. And I wondered about Sal. Yes, I knew he hated me, but still ... that girl in the hallway, the one who’d tucked something in his pocket (and draped herself all over him)—she obviously didn’t shop Mega or Sale. She was ultrachic. Was she the kind of girl he really liked? I knew I didn’t stand a chance against someone like her.

I shook my head. Why was I obsessing about this? I didn’t stand a chance with him anyway. I didn’t
want
to stand a chance with him ... did I? But if I looked different, maybe he’d notice, and then be sorry that he wasn’t with me. I kicked the sidewalk. Damn Sal Davis anyway.

When I got home, I asked Gran, “Did you ever dress up or fix your hair special because you wanted Pops to notice you?”

She smiled at me over her glasses. “Someone you want to impress?”

“No.” I doubt she believed me. I hardly believed me.