But that wasn't going to happen. Maria pressed her foot on the accelerator and sped around the corner. Michael had said he'd pick up the car, and that's what he'd have to do. And if she just happened to see him through the window when he came to get it, and then just happened to wander outside, and then just happened to throw herself on the hood of the car and scream, "Kiss me, you wild Michael beast," and then just…
And then just happened to watch Michael run like he was training for the Olympics, she thought, rolling her eyes. Which was obviously what he would do.
Maria tried to keep her mind on the road the rest of the way home. She only ended up driving by Braille a couple of times. That's what her brother, Kevin, called it when she let the car wander a little too far to the left and started going over the little bumps marking the white divider lane-driving by Braille.
It took only two tries for her to pull the boat of a car into the driveway. Two tries and one slightly dented antenna. Hey, if Michael had a problem with it, he could do the driving himself.
Maria cut the engine and reached for the door handle, then hesitated. Being in the car was sort of like being a little tiny doll or an elf and living inside Michael's pocket. The interior actually smelled like him-all spicy-musky, with a hint of sweet-and-spicy that came from the number of crullers with hot sauce he'd consumed sitting right where Maria was now. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out with a long, content sigh.
"I have so lost it," she whispered. But she didn't get out of the car. She leaned her head back against the seat and took another breath, savoring the smell, then clicked on the radio and did a pass through the stations Michael had programmed in. She smiled when she caught a snatch of an Elvis tune. She was sure Michael had chosen that station in honor of Ray Iburg, who'd given Michael the car. Any station that played the King would have been fine by Ray.
She punched the buttons again until she found a song that matched her mood, kind of slow and sad and dreamy. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into la-la-la land, which was what she called the place in her head that was in charge of producing fantasies. That little corner of her mind was fully stocked with images of Michael. Maria picked one-Michael in a soft gray T-shirt that matched his eyes-and began to dance with it, breathing in the Michael scent, trying to make the fantasy a little more real.
"Wow." Trevor watched the waves roll into the shore again and again. Michael watched him watch, then returned his own gaze to the ocean.
"Before I hid the Stones out here, I'd been to the beach only once before, with the Evanses," Michael said. "Totally blew me away. One of the best times ever."
"I can imagine," Trevor answered, never taking his eyes from the water. "Can we go in?"
"We'd freeze," Michael replied. For the last fifteen minutes he'd been sitting here, trying to play it cool and not pull his jacket tighter around himself to fight off the wind. "If we had wet suits, we'd be okay, but-"
Trevor turned to look at Michael, and he was grinning. "We have something better," he said, pulling one of the Stones out of his pocket.
Michael smiled. He yanked off his jacket and was out of his shirt in seconds. "What are we waiting for?" he said as he shoved off his sneakers without bothering to untie them. "Last one in is a rotten egg!"
He raced across the deserted beach, aiming his Stone at the water. Trevor was right behind him. "A rotten egg? Ooh. That really hurts," he shouted.
"You ever smelled a rotten egg?" Michael yelled back. He plunged straight into the ocean and kept running, as well as he could run against the tide, until the water was chest high. "This is awesome. It's warmer than a bathtub." He spread open his arms and let himself fall backward, submerging completely. When he came back up, the first thing he saw through the salt stinging his eyes was Trevor blowing a stream of water out of his nose and coughing.
"Didn't the materials the Kindred gave you mention that the human body can't breathe underwater?" Michael asked.
Trevor answered by using both hands to splash Michael. Michael retaliated, using a little power, nothing anyone would notice, to bring a wave down on Trevors head.
A second later Michael was kissing sand. "Truce, okay? Truce?" he called when he resurfaced.
"Okay," Trevor answered, slicking his brown hair away from his face.
"Suck-er." Michael used his power to knock Trevor on his butt. And the water war was on again.
One attack, one counterattack, one counter-counterattack, two fake truces, and one real truce later Michael stretched out on his back, allowing the warm water to support him. He couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face. Him and his brother at the beach. It was too cool.
"I'm gonna have to build me one of these when I get back home," Trevor announced as he floated beside Michael. "After we shatter the consciousness and I help rebuild the planet, it's on the top of my list."
"Ambitious much?" Michael asked. The stars had come out, and he stared up at them, feeling like he was floating in the sky, too.
"It's going to be a big job," Trevor answered, his voice serious now. "The consciousness has been the foundation of our society for thousands of years. Together we're all going to have to figure out what we want to replace it. Sometimes I don't think the members of the Kindred think about that part enough."
"But you do." Michael glanced at his brother as well as he could without tipping himself over.
"Yeah. I do. A system a little like the one you have in the United States might even work." Trevor flipped over on his stomach and paddled out to a sandbar just breaking through the water. He sat on it, letting the ocean advance and retreat around him.
Michael swam over and joined him. Trevor kept his eyes focused back on the beach, and Michael could feel that his brother had something big on his mind. Maybe even bigger than the consciousness, if that was possible.
"I was hoping, or wondering, I guess, if you'd come back with me when we've figured out how to break the consciousness," Trevor said finally. Michael felt an excited tingle run all over his body, but oddly, it disappeared rather quickly. "The planet is going to change forever. I want to be a part of that change." He turned toward Michael. "I want you to be a part of it, too."
"Go back home," Michael said, stating the obvious because he didn't know what else to say. He'd been dreaming about this moment for years-ever since he'd discovered the truth about himself. Only lately, that dream had begun to change. He had a place of his own now and a family. A strange sort of family that actually included humans, but they were his family.
"Aren't you curious?" Trevor asked, his eyes guarded. "Don't you want to see it? Don't you want to be there when everything changes?"
Michael felt another surge of that old longing. What would it be like to stand on the planet where his parents were born? Would the air feel more right in his lungs? Would everything feel somehow familiar?
"You don't have to give me an answer right now or anything," Trevor said, breaking the silence and looking out at the shore again. "Just know I want you there."
FIVE
Liz peered into the refrigerator. It was crammed with food-Crashdown stuff, some of her mama's baking experiments, a batch of her abuelita's tamales-but nothing looked good to her. She reached over and pressed the long white button that controlled the little light inside the fridge, then released it. On. Off. On. Off.
"I remember when you figured out that mechanism," a voice said behind her. She turned around and saw her papa smiling at her. "You were about, oh, six, and you were determined to know whether the light stayed on when the door was closed. I think your sister was doing a unit in school about energy conservation, and that's what set you off."