Lake

 

 

I stroll down our wing, taking my time to appreciate the painting on each Nobel’s door. There’s now a new one. But instead of Stryker’s hometown, Orfyn painted the seven of us at the Jamaican party. The inaugural class—including Jules. Orfyn still wants to believe Jules thought she was helping. He’s that kind of person. In the painting, everyone is having a wonderful time, even Anna. Orfyn portrayed me painting with my hands, which makes me wonder once again why I allowed my prejudices to override my feelings for him.

So much lost time.

He finished my abstract painting, and we hung it on my wall. It stops me in my tracks every time I pass it, but they’re not allowing me to bring it with me. After I’m back home with Grandma Bee, there can’t be any reminders about my being here.

I touch the figure of Alex. Deborah teared up when informing me that he successfully unmerged a few days ago and is already back home. It’s comforting to know how much she cares about us, that we weren’t merely specimens in an experiment. It gives me confidence that she’ll ensure they go through with it and unmerge me. And knowing Alex survived is making it easier for me to face the risks a second time.

I hope some part of him remembers how important it was to him to find a renewable energy source. I’m not worried about losing my passion to cure Alzheimer’s; I’ll have Grandma Bee as a constant reminder.

The dream-suppressing drug is helping, but I’m experiencing thoughts that I know are Sophie’s. Deborah says they won’t continue after I’m unmerged. I still get angry when I think about Sophie’s betrayal, but strangely, I miss her at the same time. There’s a hole in my life that our work used to fill. Alex was right. It’s better to forget about what I’m giving up.

They’re moving me off the Nobels’ floor tomorrow to begin the Blanking Phase, so I need to say my goodbyes today. A tie hangs from Stryker’s door handle, but that’s not stopping me on my last day as a Nobel. I enter his darkened room and hear rhythmic snores that sound like waves crashing onto a beach. I reach to shake him, then get a better idea. I clamp my hand over his mouth and watch as his eyes fly open in surprise. He grasps my wrist with his long fingers and easily removes my hand.

“Not funny, Lake.”

“Fair is fair.”

He sits up and turns on the light. My eyes travel down his broad, bare chest. My heart doesn’t miss a beat, once again proving that he was never the one for me.

“I’m starting the unmerging … the unmerging procedure tomorrow,” I say, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I know.”

“Were you going to let me leave without saying goodbye?”

“I’m not good with goodbyes.”

“That’s the coward’s way out. And you’re not a coward.”

He grimaces. “No, I’m a lot worse.”

“Why would you say something like that? You’re one of the most courageous and caring people I know.”

He shakes his head. “How can you believe that?” He throws off the covers and gets out of bed. “It doesn’t matter. You won’t remember any of this soon.”

I march after him to the couch. “Then what does it hurt to tell me?”

“You don’t want to hear this, Lake.”

“I do. Please.”

He stares down at his bare feet. “I was at that flash rally.”

“The one where those people were shot?”

“Passionate people who were trying to change the world. And I led three of them to their deaths.” He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “The part I didn’t tell you is, one of them was my girlfriend.”

It feels like someone punched me in the stomach. Poor Stryker. I can’t imagine what he’s been going through, though I know he’d detest my pity. “She is why you chose to be here, and why you’re working to end gun-related violence.”

He nods. “Her name was Alicia, and she was the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” Tears stream down his face. “I’ll never forgive myself for putting her in danger.”

I move closer and tentatively place a hand on his arm. He doesn’t shrug off my touch. “No one could predict that someone would do something terrible like that.”

His face is filled with anguish. “I was the one who purposely threw gasoline on volatile issues to get people to stand up and challenge the status quo. I loved how important people took me seriously, but I let my ego push things too far. I was naïve to think the protests I coordinated would remain non-violent.”

I always thought it was an expression, but my heart truly aches. “Stryker, let me ask you this. Why did Alicia go to … that place? The race. No. The rally?”

“I wanted to show her what I accomplished, and because of that, she got killed.”

“She was there because she believed in your cause, and she believed in you. If she was as wonderful as you say, she’d want you to forgive yourself.”

Stryker lets out a breath. “I promised myself I’d never get close to anyone again.”

“I also think she’d tell you that you can’t keep pushing people away.”

His near-black eyes meet mine. “I almost broke my promise with you.”

I recall our one hug and how I felt like something was wrong with me. It was never about me. How many times have I misinterpreted situations because I didn’t have all the facts? I even convinced myself that someone was right for me because he fit the image I had in my head of the perfect boyfriend.

“We’ve been good friends,” I say. “Other than the fact that you have an annoying habit of telling me what to do.”

He smirks. “I may have been told that before.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I hold out my hand.

“That’s not a decent goodbye.” He wraps me in his endless arms. “I could have loved you, Lake. If things were different.”

“I wanted to love you, too.”

 

 

My tears blur Orfyn’s face until he resembles a chalk drawing in the rain. “We’re going to forget each other.”

His light brown hand holds my ivory one—the color of The Flem’s walls before he transformed them into works of art.

“I’ll make sure we meet again,” he promises.

It’s a sweet thought, but I can’t conceive how it will ever happen. Not only are we returning to our vastly different lives to do vastly different things, neither of us will have any memory of each other.

We arrive at the oak tree, and Orfyn climbs to the lowest limb. He reaches out his hand and helps pull me up. We perch shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. I vaguely recall being here with him before, but I’m not sure when. Or why. How many other important things have I forgotten?

The sky is clear. Thanks to Orfyn, I now prefer days with ever-changing clouds. I watch as a V of honking birds flies overhead. I can’t remember what they’re called.

After the procedure, will I be able to recall the elements in the Periodic Table? Will I have the intelligence to unlock the secrets of chemistry? Will I look at a painting and remember how I’m no longer afraid to fall in love with an artist? Stop. I have to quit concentrating on the risks, because I can’t keep existing like this. I need Sophie to be gone.

Think of what I can teach you.

I’ve learned that sharp pain drives her out of my thoughts. I dig my fingernails into my palm.

The saddest part is, she could have taught me so much. I’ve loved what I was doing at The Flem. Because of Sophie, I was working on experiments far beyond my age. And her lifetime of knowledge and experience would have continued to propel me so we could have done remarkable things together. I have to hope that once she’s been implanted into Bat’s program, the damage to her neurons is overridden and her brain patterns re-stabilize so she refocuses on her second life’s true purpose. Mankind still needs a cure for Alzheimer’s.

It’s not easy to hope someone succeeds after they’ve sabotaged your dreams.

“I won’t be a groundbreaking researcher,” I say.

Orfyn pulls me closer. “Don’t tell yourself that. You just need to dream bigger. Bat taught me that.”

Again, sweet thought, but as my dad proclaims, people don’t get a second shot. My role in history isn’t what matters most, though. We haven’t discovered the cure in time to save Grandma Bee. I’ll be by her side while she still has good days, though. That is the one silver lining about leaving The Flem. I plan to make the most of her limited time, because Grandma Bee won’t be challenging the premise that we only get one life.

You don’t have to do this!

I bite my lip hard. It’s ironic how Sophie spent the last month threatening to replace me, and now she’s fighting to keep me in her life. I’m still unsure if she always understood we merged, or if she finally accepted it during our fight, which is why I blacked out. Either way, she realizes we’re unmerging.

My mind keeps wandering. I need to make this time about Orfyn. “Why didn’t we get together earlier?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I’m no longer certain which memories are mine.”

“We’ll just have to create new ones.” He runs his finger along my cheek, as if I were a fine sculpture.

Potassium meets water. Boom! My eyes scour his face in an attempt to burn it into my long-term memory. Broad, noble nose. Golden-green eyes. Eyelashes any girl would envy. Masterful, paint-stained hands. I wipe away a tear.

“Do you remember our kisses?” Orfyn asks.

“Yes.” Although I’m not sure if they were all real. And I have a feeling Sophie was in control at least one time.

Doesn’t she realize if all the people with a genetic marker never had children, she wouldn’t have been born? Or so many other world-changing people. Thankfully, no one with an ounce of humanity would allow her to implement her plan in the real world.

I need to stop spinning. This is the last time I’ll be with Orfyn. “I may need reminding, after all.”

His smile ignites a flame that licks at my skin. Our lips know what to do, as if he’s been a long-time boyfriend. I wish we’d spent more time together. I think it was my fault we didn’t.

As we kiss, I breathe in his scent. Cinnamon mixed with walnut oil. Smell is one of the strongest memory triggers, and I want to make sure that should we somehow meet again, my subconscious will remember what he meant to me.

You’ll regret this decision for the rest of your life.

No, I won’t. After the procedure, I’ll no longer know that I was once the Nobel for Chemistry.