Flutter Read Free Page B

Gia said, lifting her eyebrows. “Can you believe it? Dr. Land and the twenty-first century.”
    “Next he’ll be getting hair plugs and a spray tan,” I joked. We laughed and made our way over to a table near the kitchen door, and I sat down, trying to smooth my flyaway hair into some kind of shape, knowing it was useless.
    “So, give me the details. What’s new at school?”
    “Emery, I think I’m in love.”
    “Not again,” I answered, not even looking up from putting ketchup on my eggs.
    “He’s gorgeous and emo but not too emo, no guyliner or anything. Turtlenecks but no wallet chains. You know what I mean.”
    I nodded, smiling, glad to have the distraction. “Just no guys with hair dye, okay? All goth and moody, writing bad poetry.”
    Gia was already on to the next topic. “Mr. Phelps, the health teacher? Well, he’s been canned because of the whole blogging thing. I’m sure you heard about that?”
    I shook my head and buttered my toast, listening to Gia recount all the news. It was so good to have something close to normal to talk about. But I also felt that familiar snaky coil of envy in my stomach.
    I wanted Gia to have all this fun. I wanted this for her, but I wanted it too.
    “What’s up with Julliard?” I asked her.
    “I got the audition, Emery!” Her eyes danced, and I reached across the table.
    “You do? When? I knew you would. I’m so happy for you!”
    “January. The week after Christmas break.”
    “You rock, Gia! That is awesome, really.” I could feel my eyes tearing up. I couldn’t help it.
    “Emery?”
    “I’m sorry, Gia. I’m sorry. I’m happy for you. I am. It’s just …”
    “I know. How are you? We need to talk about it.”
    “It’s okay.”
    “Emery, you don’t look good.”
    “I know.”
    “And I know everything is top secret, double-oh-seven and all, but I’m here and your dad called me, and I can see that—”
    “They don’t believe me.”
    “The team? I know.”
    “I’ve been thinking of quitting it all. Leaving,” I told her, not looking up from tearing the crust off my toast.
    “I’ve heard that before.”
    “It feels different this time.”
    “How?” Gia grabbed my hand over the table and squeezed it until I looked at her.
    “I’ll be eighteen soon. I can go be somewhere else.…” And at the last instant, I added, “Or some time else.”
    “You can’t control it,” she whispered.
    “Not yet.”
    “But you think you might?”
    “It feels more physical lately.”
    “Yeah, it looks more physical, Emery. You look—”
    “Gia, I know it’s killing me.”
    “Emery, please! Ha!” Her attempt at a laugh sounded more like an accusation. She looked at my eyes for an instant but then looked away.
    We sat in silence for a long moment.
    “Emery, I wish—” Gia started.
    “I don’t think I want to die in a hospital bed having lived only for my scientific observers, data recorders, and data interpreters. Maybe I don’t have too much time left. Maybe I just want to go … to be … normal. I mean, what did I used to do before Dad stuck me here? Before the meaning behind the loops became my whole reason for existence?”
    “You worried about pimples and boys and did homework, Emery. It’s not that great.”
    “But it’s normal.”
    “You don’t want normal.”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t want to be a lab rat anymore.”
    “What
do
you want?”
    I looked at Gia, attempted to lift my mouth in a smile. “To live. Really live.”
    “Emery, you—”
    “I want choices.”
    Gia nodded.
    “How did I get here?” I said, gesturing to my bathrobe and the bright white, too-clean hospital surfaces around us.
    “That first crazy EEG when you were, what, twelve?” Gia said.
    “That started it, I guess.”
    “I remember,” Gia said, and began humming while she took a bite of her breakfast burrito.
    And then I nearly choked on my eggs. There on the inside of her left wrist, Gia had a tattoo. Just a plain