The face in the mirror had no eyes or lips. She was blurry, distorted. Every time I tried to look at her I had to look away. It was better not to tell Mom I was hallucinating. She was worried enough.
Maybe I was sick. Viruses. Melcher had used the plural.
Why would the agents save my life then make me sick?
Why would the agents save me at all?
I didn't feel sick. I didn't feel anything.
"Aurora!" Mom called from downstairs. "You're going to miss the bus if you don't leave soon."
I took each stair carefully. Didn't want to risk re-breaking any bones. It hardly seemed possible that they had healed so quickly to begin with. Rather than tell me to relax and take it easy, my doctor had told me to get plenty of exercise.
My foot hit the tiled entryway.
"Are you sure I can't give you a ride to school?" Mom asked. "I'd like to."
"I'd rather take the bus."
"Can I pick you up?"
"No."
I zipped my backpack closed. She grabbed a white quilted parka from the closet and held it up, waiting for me to slip it on.
I stared at it. "Whose coat is that?"
"I got it for you. Don't you like it?"
I liked my bomber jacket better, but it hadn't made it through the wreck.
I slipped my arms into the coat sleeves without comment and pulled on my winter boots. Mom lifted the hood over my head as I moved to the front door.
"Have a good day. Call me if you decide you want a ride home."
I nodded and walked into the fresh air, for once welcoming the cold prickle across my face. I'd been indoors for weeks. A dusting of snow covered the neighbors' roofs and lawns. The driveways were clear. I averted my eyes when passing the empty spot next to the garage where my car should have been parked.
The lowerclassman waiting at the bottom of the hill glanced at me when I came to a stop several paces away from the cluster they'd formed.
I felt like I'd stumbled backwards in time to a bygone era - one in which I waited at the end of the street for the school bus.
Early morning commuters chugged past in their cars. The yellow bus came along eventually, its chains rattling around the rotating tires, and ground to a halt. I let everyone else board before I climbed the stairs.
I took one step down the aisle and stopped. The smell overwhelmed me: hairspray and perfume, BO and foul breath, all intertwined - thirty-eight bodies crammed inside a tin can. My head spun. I grabbed hold of a seatback to steady myself.
I resisted the urge to back up and climb back down the stairs. But I'd had enough of wasting away in square rooms. I slid into the first available spot and stared out the window. At least the movement didn't bother me. I felt like I was in a submarine gliding smoothly through a current.
Denise waited until I walked all the way up to our lockers to give me a hug. "Welcome back! I wanted to visit you in the hospital, but your mom said they were only allowing family members. How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
The halls were filled with chatter - the volume much too loud. I winced as a locker slammed shut beside me.
"Well, you look great," Denise told me, head in her locker as she spoke.
"Thanks."
Students stared at me and whispered quickly as they passed our lockers.
AJ, Denali High's ultimate player, strode over. His sneakers squeaked when he stopped in front of us. He looked me up and down. "Hey, Aurora, I heard you were in a coma."
"Leave her alone!" Denise snapped.
"Just askin'," AJ said with a shrug before moving on.
"I'm sure the last thing you want to do is talk about it," Denise said.
Her meaning was clear. Denise didn't want to hear a word about the accident.
I didn't want to talk about it anyway.
Denise pulled a three ringed binder out of her locker and stuffed it inside her backpack. "I'm so glad you're all right. Can I help you with anything?"
"I'm fine...thanks," I repeated.
"Okay. See you in math."
Yeah, okay.
At least now I had an excuse to get out of gym. Even better, Scott Stevens spoke more than two words to me.
That afternoon, "Hi, Aurora," was followed by, "Nice to have you back."
My own friend had failed to say those words. I liked hearing it from Scott better anyway. It came with a smile.
Volleyball had been replaced by badminton while I was gone. Mr. Mooney let me get away with sitting out class the first two days, but by the third he decided to diagnose me as fit for participation.
"Sky, ready to jump back in?"
I paused on my way to the bleachers. "I'm not dressed."
Besides, everyone was already paired up.
"Fane!" Mr. Mooney called. "Get out here. You can be Aurora's partner."
I tried not to flinch or show signs of distress. My last memory of Fane involved his tongue tracing his upper lip.
Fane stood up and gave Mr. Mooney a glare so dark it sent a shiver down my spine. It was the first real sensation I'd experienced since the accident. When his eyes moved to me I momentarily forgot to breathe.
Fane held my gaze a moment longer then slipped out of his leather jacket. I watched, transfixed. This was history in the making. Fane Donado taking off his coat.
All of his imperfections breezed out the door as soon as I got my first look at the six-pack straining against his cotton tee. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me. For a guy with such a slender build, Fane was surprisingly muscled.
Fane took deliberate steps down the aisle of the bench, straight to the edge. He jumped from the bleachers, causing them to rock in his wake.
I swear I felt a 'thud' inside the pit of my stomach when he landed.
Mr. Mooney nodded at Fane. "You two are playing Clayton and Tyler."
Fane walked past me and took two rackets off the floor. He handed me one. I took it from his outstretched hand then followed several steps behind.
Part of me was relieved he didn't say anything. All I could think about was the obscene gesture he'd made right before my world turned up-side-down. I hardly noticed the hair now. I was too distracted by his lips. And now his abs. Luckily, I wouldn't have to look at either while we played side by side.
At the far court, Clayton and Tyler bounced birdies up and down on the strings of their rackets.
Clayton nudged Tyler as we approached. "Oh great. Goth boy and zombie girl. This should be fun."
I took my place beside Fane. He held his racket loose and lazy. I barely held mine at all. Clayton pelted the birdie at me. I tried to shield my face and ended up dropping my racket.
"Oh, come on!" Clayton shouted.
I picked up the birdie and threw it over the net.
Clayton served the birdie to Fane, who smacked it over the net with the flick of a wrist. Tyler launched the birdie at me. It hit me on the shoulder, but I swung anyway as it bounced to the floor.
"Hello? Earth to Aurora," Tyler called across the net.
"I think she's still in a coma," Clayton said.
"That's game," Tyler said. "Your serve."
I picked up the birdie and handed it to Fane. It's a good thing it wasn't a real bird. Fane crushed it in his hand. Only for a moment. Only I saw. He relaxed and looked across the net. I felt that odd shiver return.
Fane smacked the birdie as though it were a fly. He walloped it right between Tyler and Clayton so fast neither boy had time to react. When they did manage a return hit, Fane gracefully flicked away any stray birds that came at me. I watched in fascination, fully engaged for the first time since the accident.
The boys tried to hit the birdie back. Fane had them racing across every corner of their court. By the end of the period they were out of breath. They took off without a backwards glance when Mr. Mooney blew his whistle signaling the end of gym.
As I walked past Fane I felt a twitch. Not my own. I felt the twitch of his hand wanting to stop me.
"Hey, you. Are you okay?"
If I had my full range of emotions left I'd laugh. He didn't even know my name - that or it wasn't worth saying.
He studied me carefully. "I've seen that look before."
Now I was curious.
Valerie jumped down from the bleachers. "Fane!"
He didn't pay attention to her. I held my breath waiting for him to tell me what he saw.
Valerie sashayed her way over to Fane. She held out his jacket. "I'm ready to blow this joint. Let's get a bite."
Her last words grabbed his attention, and he forgot me completely. Valerie looped her arm around Fane's and they walked toward the double doors. I was right behind them, silent as a ghost. When I reached the hall entrance leading to the locker rooms I stopped. I saw his head start to turn. I knew he was going to look back, but by the time he did I'd be gone.
I heard the Christmas music and smelled molasses before I walked through the door. "Jingle Bells" jangled inside my ears the moment I crossed the threshold. Mom was in the kitchen amidst trays of cut-out cookies. She bit into a gingerbread man as I walked in. She turned, crumbs falling from her mouth, swallowed, and smiled.
"I was feeling festive today," she said.
I glanced at the dining room table, where she'd set out plates of sugar cookies shaped like angels and stars; bowls of colored frosting and bottles of sprinkles.
I knew why. Tomorrow Dad returned.
Mom asked me not to say anything about the agents. Not that I had much information to relay since she'd managed to avoid the topic since bringing me home. Dad only knew about the accident, that I was fine, and the car totaled.
I understood Mom's concern. After their last argument we were lucky to have him home for the holidays at all.
Mom grinned. "That's not all. Look what we've got in the living room."
I followed her into the adjoining room. The branches of a fir tree nearly touched the ceiling. I could barely pick up its scent through the sugared cloud wafting from room to room.
"Do you like the tree?" Mom asked. "It was the best one on the lot."
Meaning most symmetrical, I supposed. There were plastic totes lined beside the tree, lids pulled off and stacked against the sofa.
"Go on," Mom coaxed. "Why don't you put up the first ornament?"
I looked inside the tote. Because my mom was waiting, I grabbed the first decoration that touched my fingers.
The phone rang. While my mom answered I dangled a glittery star from my finger.
She returned to the living room with the phone pressed against her chest. "Aurora, it's Agent Melcher calling to see how you're doing."
I continued staring at the star. "I don't want to talk to him."
Mom hesitated before returning the phone to her ear. "She's doing better. Yes, school's going fine. Her friends are, of course, happy to have her back - as are her teachers."
Mom circled the living room.
"Martial arts?" she asked. "If you say so. We'll get her enrolled in some after-school classes. Right after Christmas? Yes, I understand. Thank you. You, too."
I hung the star from a branch at eye level and looked at it on the tree.
"That was Agent Melcher," she repeated.
A sudden flash of irritation burned through me. Yes, she mentioned that already.
"He would like you to start informal training. He said it will help you during orientation."
I folded my arms over my chest. "I already told you I'm not going back to that place."
Mom gasped. "Aurora, you have to."
"Why?"
"The agents...they said if we don't comply...you'll die."
Her voice quivered and broke on a sob.
I took a step forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mom, it's okay. I just want to know what they want from me. How did the agents even find me to begin with?"
She sniffed and sucked in a breath. "I don't know. When I received the call about your accident they already had you on base."
Sounded more like a kidnapping than a rescue mission if you asked me.
"And what did they tell you?"
"I can't remember," Mom said a little too quickly. "I was in a state of panic. It's hard to remember much. I was in shock."
"Try to remember - they must've said something."
Mom stared beyond me. "They said there was internal bleeding and that your heart was giving out. They mentioned that three organs needed replacing if you were to have any chance of survival." Mom made another choking sound. She took a breath. "They said they were your only hope."
"And what did you agree to in return for my operation?"
"The agents believe you can be a big help to their division. They want you as an operative. Top secret stuff. They gave me their word that you wouldn't come to any harm if I agreed to secrecy and you complied."
My voice quivered. "What kind of operative?"
Mom avoided my eyes. "Only the agents can tell you that."
For all their mumbo jumbo about viruses, modified organisms, and the greater good, I was at a loss as to their intent. Curious as I was, I'd sooner steer clear of the agents all together - for the rest of my life if possible. I didn't want to train. I didn't want to be an operative. I did not sign up for this.
And why were they called agents, anyway? If they were on base, shouldn't they be lieutenants or sergeants?
I held out my arms. "Look at me."
Mom looked.
"Do I look like I should be in the military?"
Mom shook her head slowly.
"I like to read books. I like to write." I lowered my arms and began pacing the room. "You know what I don't like? Gym and whistles. I should be going to college - not the service!"
"Let's just wait until orientation. I'm sure the agents will explain everything there."
"Whatever," I said. "I'm done decorating."