But then she'd talked to him. Just talked in a low, soft voice. Something about drawing everything with a purple crayon when she was a little girl.
Michael tried to imagine Maria was sitting next to him right there in the fleabag motel in Hobbs, talking to him. Gradually the sound of Isabel's ragged breathing faded into the background, overpowered by the imaginary Maria voice. A few minutes later Michael slipped into the dream plane.
The dream orbs whirled around him, glimmering with iridescent colors. Michael had never seen Trevor's dream orb. He didn't know what its music sounded like.
"So how am I supposed to find it?" he muttered, frustration slashing through him. The dream orbs started to fade when he distracted himself, and Michael quickly tightened his concentration on them, then began to hum the low note his own dream orb made. Trevor was his brother, however much Michael hated that fact. Maybe his dream orb was similar enough to Michael's that it would respond to the sound.
In the distance Michael saw a metallic gray orb moving toward him. The other orbs spun out of its way as it picked up speed, flying faster and faster. Michael jerked to the left too late-the orb whacked him on the side of the head and knocked him on his butt.
It doubled in size, without any prompting from Michael, and hovered above him, emitting a deep, resonating note of music. Michael had never seen a dream orb behave the way this one just had, and that made him pretty sure he'd found the one he was looking for. It made sense that Trevor's orb would be unlike that of anyone born on Earth.
Michael bent back his legs and kicked the orb with both feet so he could scramble out from under it. Immediately he tried to step through its wall. But it wasn't permeable the way other dream orbs were. Michael took a few steps back and lunged at it, trying to force himself inside. No dice.
Isabel didn't have a lot of time left. Michael had to find a way to break into the orb-now. He circled it, looking for any sign of weakness in its smooth walls. Nothing. He let out his breath with a hiss and circled the orb again.
He noticed it turning an opaque, smoky gray and stopped to figure out what was going on. He could see something moving inside, but he couldn't make out exactly what it was. He gave the wall a poke with one finger. Still as strong as steel.
The orb grew clearer and clearer until its walls were like untinted glass. Trevor stood in the center of the orb and locked eyes with Michael, but he didn't make a move. All he did was raise a curious eyebrow.
Isn't he going to let me in? Michael thought, clenching his hands into fists. It didn't look that way. Trevor just kept staring at him.
Okay, he wants me to beg, I'll beg, Michael thought. He cupped his hands around his mouth.
"I need to talk to you," he shouted. "Please!"
Trevor didn't reply for a long moment, then he reached through the wall of the orb and pulled Michael inside, the wall suddenly as soft as a soap bubble.
"Okay, talk," Trevor ordered.
Michael wasn't crazy about the guy's tone. Especially since Trevor was the one who'd done all the lying. But he pushed aside his anger. It was not the time.
"It's Isabel," he told his brother. "She's going through her akino. She doesn't want to join the consciousness-"
"Don't let anybody force her," Trevor interrupted, his gray eyes darkening.
"I won't. I promised her I wouldn't," Michael answered. "But-" The words were harder to say than he thought they should be.
"But what?" Trevor asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Michael was sure that Trevor knew what he wanted to ask. Clearly his brother was going to make him actually spit it out. Fine. He could swallow his pride. For Isabel's sake.
"We-I mean I… I need your help," Michael admitted.
"Do you think we should try to bring Max out of the connection?" Adam asked. He and Liz sat side by side on his living-room floor, leaning against the wall, their fingers still laced together.
Liz shook her head. "Let's leave him in the kitchen. Right now there's nothing for any of us to do but wait."
Adam shifted the tiniest bit so that his shoulder was just touching hers. Liz didn't pull away. But he wasn't sure if that was because she hadn't noticed or because she liked it. Or because she was just tolerating it to be nice to the mole boy.
"Hey, Adam. You know what you were saying the other day-about the consciousness not sounding so bad because you'd never be alone?" Liz asked.
"Uh-huh," he said, savoring the way the heat from her shoulder soaked into his. It felt like Liz's body was about ten degrees wanner than his was, but he knew that couldn't be possible. It was just that everything about Liz affected him in a magnified way. All she had to do was smile at him, and it was like he'd been set free from the compound all over again.
"It made me think about how lonely you must be so much of the time," Liz continued. "When we're all at school, you're cooped up in here all by yourself. I never even thought about what you do all day."
Adam found it hard to sit still when Liz looked at him with full-force intensity, the way she was right now. It's not that he didn't like it. He did. But it made him feel like someone was twanging on his neurons, sending wild impulses everywhere in his body.
"So what do you do?" Liz asked, her dark brown eyes intent on his face.
Adam shrugged, increasing the shoulder-to-shoulder contact with Liz.
"I try to learn some stuff," he explained. "I still have some gaps. I read, watch TV, listen to music, surf the net. At lunch I wander around, look in stores. I go to Target a lot."
"Target?" Liz asked, her eyes widening.
"Yeah. Why? Is that bad?" Adam asked, sensing he'd said something wrong.
"Okay. That's it," Liz said, sitting up straight. "Spring break, we all go to New York. We'll drive-see America. And we're going to find you some friends. I mean friends you can hang out with during the day. There must be some people somewhere in this town…" Liz paused, brow furrowing, then rushed on. "Then next year you're going to college. We'll fake you some records somehow. Social services doesn't wonder where your family is when you're in college."
"Wow," Adam murmured, overwhelmed by the passion in her voice.
"You don't need the consciousness not to be alone." Red explosions of anger filled Liz's aura. Adam had noticed she got angry every time the consciousness came up. "You won't need to connect," she added.
Adam didn't mention the fact that the only way to avoid connecting to the consciousness seemed to be death, but the yellow bolts in her aura let him know that Liz was probably thinking about the same thing.
"I'd like to go to New York," Adam said, keeping the conversation light. "Especially the Empire State Building," he added, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
Liz smiled slightly, a we've-got-a-secret smile, and suddenly Adam wanted to kiss her. He always wanted to kiss her, but the intensity of the urge right now was almost molecule melting.
A kiss in the dream plane would have been awesome. Any kind of kiss with Liz would be awesome. But the textures inside a dream orb were just a tiny bit off, somehow a little too perfect. If he kissed Liz now, it would be real.
Adam leaned toward her, and she didn't pull back. His gaze flicked from her lips to her eyes, her lips to her eyes. Her eyes were warm. Her lips parted slightly.
And Adam kissed her softly. Her lips were warm and sweet. She touched the hair at the back of his neck lightly, and his neurons twanged almost hard enough to snap.
Slowly Liz pulled away. She kissed him on the cheek, then released his hand. Adam had had zero experience with girls, but he knew what Liz was telling him before she spoke the words.