He pulled the keys out of his pocket and stared at them for a moment before locking the door. It was an amazing feeling-having keys. It was like something actually belonged to him. And he belonged somewhere.
Adam was looking forward to the museum's grand reopening. It would be cool to have people in the place. Adam liked crowds. He liked the feel of the edges of his aura blending with others'. He'd spent enough time alone to last him for the rest of his life. There was no place in the world more lonely than a Project Clean Slate cell. Yes, there were guards posted on him all the time, but that just constantly reminded him of the fact that he was really all by himself.
Adam put his keys back in his pocket, enjoying the weight of them, and wandered down Main Street. It was lunchtime, so nobody would think it was strange for a teenager to be out on the street on a school day.
He'd gone into every one of the little shops many times. He'd even started to get a kick out of all the alien souvenir stuff, which had freaked him out at first. But he didn't feel like hitting them all again. He didn't want to spend any more time under the gray sky than he had to. It gave him the wiggins. That's what Michael called the creepy, pinpricks-on-the-back-of-the-neck feeling-the wiggins.
A bus pulled up to the stop half a block away, and Adam ran for it. He made it just before the doors wheezed closed. "Target again?" the driver asked. Adam gave a sheepish smile. He did go to Target more than anybody else in town. There just wasn't that much to do until school got out, and Target was cool.
When the museum reopens, maybe Michael will let me work there during the day, Adam thought. He could rearrange the molecular structure of his face and body so he looked like an adult. It would be his secret identity-like Clark Kent or Peter Parker. Adam shook his head. Another thought that would crack Michael up.
Except that Michael hadn't been cracking up over anything since Trevor took off with DuPris.
Adam leaned his head against the window and stared at the strip malls and fast-food restaurants. When the bus pulled up at the stop in front of Target, he bolted off and raced across the parking lot so he'd have as little time under the sky as possible.
He felt better the moment he was through the electronic doors. Even the smell was somehow comforting-all different variations of clean and new. Adam headed for the long row of magazines, always his first stop. His gaze was snagged by the words on the cover of a women's magazine: How to Send the Signal That You Want to Be More Than Friends.
He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was watching-even Adam the mole boy had figured out that guys shouldn't be seen reading Cosmo-and found the article as fast as he could. He needed help with the Liz situation because the data he'd gathered so far were somewhat confusing.
Fact: Liz had kissed him. The kiss had been initiated by her. This was good.
Fact: Unfortunately, when Liz had initiated the kiss, she'd been in a state of complete emotional chaos. She'd had a fight with her papa that she thought had destroyed their relationship. This was bad.
Fact: The day after Liz had initiated the kiss, she had broken up with Max. This was good.
Fact: Liz had stopped looking Adam in the eye. This was bad.
Fact: Liz had almost stopped looking Max in the eye. Adam wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.
Adam started reading the article, hoping for some kind of guidance. "Try a red slip or bra," the article suggested. "A flash of red underwear sends a major I'm-looking-for-some-lovin' signal."
He quickly skipped to the second recommendation. "Try dropping something, and take just a few seconds too long when you bend over to pick it up. It's obvious, but guys are dense, so obvious is often necessary."
There was no way this was going to help him figure out if Liz was or could ever be the slightest bit interested in him in a boyfriend kind of way. Adam slapped the magazine shut and stuck it back on the rack. He tried to push out of his mind the image of Liz Ortecho in silky red underwear that set off her dark skin. It didn't feel right to think of her that way.
He quickly headed away from the magazines. His footsteps slowed as he spotted one of the toy aisles out of the corner of his eye. Adam knew he was way too old for toys. He knew that getting caught playing with toys in Target was higher on the humiliation scale than getting caught looking at Cosmo. But he'd never gotten to play with toys in the compound. Dad Valenti-Adam still cringed when he thought about how he'd grown up thinking Valenti was actually his father-had decided that toys distracted Adam too much from the experiments evaluating his powers.
Adam's brain kept telling him that someone who should be in high school couldn't play with toys, but his feet turned toward them, anyway, and in a few seconds he was sitting on the floor with a remote-controlled robot. He fiddled with the controls until he'd managed to get the robot to march to the end of the aisle and around the corner. He wanted to see if he could get it to circle all the way back to him.
He scooted around so he was facing the direction from which the robot should appear. It didn't.
"The cow says… moo," an electronic voice announced from the next aisle. There was a pause, then, "The rooster says… cock-a-doodle-doo."
"Do you see a robot over there?" Adam asked. He figured it had to be a little kid playing with the animal toy, so Adam didn't think he had to be too embarrassed.
The little kid didn't answer. The robot didn't appear. "The sheep says… baa," the electronic voice stated.
Adam shoved himself to his feet and trotted around to the next aisle. What he saw stopped him cold. Max Evans was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the aisle, holding a brightly colored plastic toy.
"Max!" Adam exclaimed once he got over the surprise, "What are you doing here?"
Max pulled the string on the toy in his hand. "The duck says… quack," the electronic voice said.
Adam hurried over and crouched next to Max. His eyes had that unfocused look they got when he'd made a deep connection to the consciousness-something else that gave Adam the creeps. He tapped Max on the shoulder. Max didn't even blink. He just pulled the string again. "The cow says… moo," the electronic voice obediently replied.
"Max, uh, shouldn't you be in school?" Adam asked. He hesitated, then gave Max a hard slap on the back. Max started to pull the string again, but Adam pulled the toy away before he had the chance.
Max's eyes fluttered, then slowly focused on Adam. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
Adam shrugged casually, even though his heart was pounding from the weirdness of it all. "I don't know," he said. "Just killing time. What about you?"
A deep line appeared between Max's eyebrows as he looked around the toy aisle. He rubbed his hands over his face. "I… man, I don't even remember coming in here. We're in Target, right?"
"Yeah." Adam straightened up, then reached down and helped Max to his feet. "Are you going to, um, head back to school?"
"I guess I…" Max's voice trailed off. He picked up a large, fuzzy teddy bear and started to stroke its fur. He lifted one shoulder at Adam almost apologetically.
"It's a consciousness thing," he explained. "Some of the beings want to know how it feels. I think I'll stay here for a while." He started sounding sort of sleepy. Maybe even drugged.
"Are you sure?" Adam asked. Max's eyes had grown almost as glassy as the bear's.
"Missing a day of school isn't going to hurt me," Max answered.
As Max started to drift off again, his words replayed in Adam's mind. Before he could even blink, he had an amazing idea. A completely amazing, exciting idea.
Liz sucked in her breath as Max walked down the hall toward her. The intensity and focus she saw in his bright blue eyes was almost too much to bear. He was one hundred percent there. She could tell not even a fraction of a percent of his attention was on the consciousness or anything else.