Sidetracked: Part 1 Read online

  Night doesn’t move from the table, but I do.

  As Ice steps through the front door, I’m there to greet him. He glosses me over, mild disinterest flashing across his face. Ah— I forgot I was wearing pajamas. Desperate to mask my embarrassment, I glance away long enough to catch my breath. What was I thinking, changing before he got here?

  “Good evening, Jayde,” he says, offering me a dim smile.

  He takes a seat at the dining table and glances at Night, who is already putting together a plate of leftovers. He’s giving off especially weird vibes tonight, so I play it safe and leave an empty chair between us when I sit.

  “You might consider taking a plane next time,” Night says, her voice soft and teasing.

  “I prefer driving.”

  If he’s worn out from the drive, he doesn’t look it. I study him a moment longer, searching for the fatigue Night must have picked up on. His expression reads as passive and indifferent—mildly annoyed, maybe—but not particularly tired. No shadows beneath his eyes. No significant change in the way he carries himself.

  Though, I suppose she knows him better than I do.

  “So... How did it go?” I ask.

  Besides turning in the paperwork we filled out, I have no clue what else he may have done in Washington. He was gone for three days, but no amount of asking on my part convinced him to tell me what he was up to.

  “It was interesting,” he says. “It seems they don’t receive many of those applications, so it was reviewed quickly.”

  I frown. “Didn’t I just fill out some standard paperwork? Is it that rare for humans to learn about immortals?”

  “Not exactly.” He shrugs and glances away. “While I was in Seattle, I took the liberty of enrolling you in an experimental program. Human-Immortal Affairs put it together years ago, and it’s very exclusive.”

  What?

  “I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”

  WHAT?

  “Um.”

  I don’t know what to say!

  “An experimental program?” I ask, my voice sharp.

  He gives me a look before glancing away again.

  I worry my hands in my lap. This is worse than when he told me he wasn’t human.

  Night casts a suspicious glare in his direction as she sets the reheated plate of dinner leftovers in front of him, but he doesn’t pay her any mind. I’m not sure he even noticed.

  “It’s nothing bad,” she says, her expression softening as our eyes meet. “I’m sure Ice will explain when he’s feeling better.”

  She sets a gentle hand on his shoulder. Irritation flashes across his features, revealing his exhaustion for an instant, but he relents and picks up the fork she presented him with.

  “Oh, yes,” he agrees dryly. “I’m bound by contract to tell you all about it, but we’ll cross that line tomorrow.”

  Oh, um...

  “I can wait,” I say. “It’s fine.”

  “Good.”

  Night, who doesn’t quite appear placated, removes her hand from his shoulder and sits across from him. The silent look they exchange sends a chill down my spine, and I immediately know I want no part in whatever conversation they’re about to have.

  I excuse myself from the table and retreat to Ice’s bedroom. I stand in the dark with my back to the door, and I stare at the bare wall across from me.

  An experimental program?

  This is not fine.

  I WAKE UP TO MY 9AM alarm.

  After swiping the screen to silence my phone, I sit up and look over the room as I have every morning. Today, something is out of place. A ball of white fluff at the foot of the bed. I’m confused until I realize it’s breathing.

  The ball of fluff is a cat.

  “Ice?” I ask sharply.

  Oh my god, Jayde. It’s not like you slept with him.

  A head pops out of the white fur and rotates to blink vibrantly blue eyes at me.

  “Yes... I apologize.” Ice uncurls his feline body and arches his back, stretching. “I haven’t slept in several days.”

  I wave my hands disarmingly. “Oh, no. It’s fine. You surprised me; that’s all.”

  “I see.”

  My face is still warm. I adjust my camisole and detangle my hair with my fingers, hoping I’m at least semi-presentable. My appearance doesn’t seem to make any difference to him—I’m not sure it ever has—but the possibility of looking like a hot mess in front of him still stresses me out.

  When I check again, he’s sitting at the foot of the bed in human form, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. He stares into the mirror on his closet door, idly messing with his hair.

  His eyes flick to my reflection. “Would you prefer we talk now or later?”

  “Ah...” As much as I want an explanation now... “Later is fine. I think I want to take a shower first, you know?”

  “Works for me.”

  He looks away to continue fixing his hair. He’s acting normal, as though nothing unusual happened last night. Like he was never snappy. Like he didn’t drop the bombshell of having signed me up for some experimental program behind my back.

  He can be rather odd.

  I collect my toiletry bag and a change of clothes and slink out of the room.

  Showering tends to reduce anxiety, but no luck today.

  Today, I am brooding.

  I asked how things were going multiple times while he was out of state. He had so many opportunities to say something. Anything. So I cannot believe he’d sign me up for some secret, experimental government program without asking.

  I brush my hair and stare at my reflection in the foggy mirror.

  What are you doing here?

  Ice invited me to stay, but why? He didn’t even plan to tell me about immortals when we first met. Why would he change his mind—especially if I’m supposed to be nothing more than a stupid summer fling?

  God... Does he even feel that way about me?

  We’ve known each other for about a month, but—with the two glaring exceptions of Ice’s awkward immortals reveal and this most recent and concerning development—all we’ve done is go on a few relatively safe dates. I’ve gone out to dinner or to the park or to the movies with plenty of just friends before, and it’s not like he’s ever made a move on me or anything.

  Ugh!

  I really like him, but... I keep picturing the flash of disinterest in his eyes when I met him at the door last night. Was he just tired from the drive?

  My reflection stares at me, lost and confused. I force a smile and plug my hair dryer into the outlet beside the sink.

  I shouldn’t worry, right?

  Ice will tell me why he wants to hang out. And why he told me about immortals. And why he signed me up for an experimental program without my knowledge...

  Well, even if he doesn’t today, I will find out eventually.

  Hair dry, and heart injected with as much determination as I can muster, I slap my cheeks and head out into the hallway.

  Ice’s bedroom door is cracked, so I push it open and find him seated at his desk. As I step inside, he spins the chair to face me. His expression holds an interesting combination of sincerity and playfulness. If one thing is clear, he feels better than he did last night.

  I close the door without taking my eyes off him.

  He gestures toward his bed. “Please, sit.”

  I drop everything in my arms onto my open backpack before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

  From this angle, I spot two things in his lap. The first appears to be a white envelope, but the second is carefully hidden both by the envelope and one hand. I catch only a glimpse of silver.

  I see. If he intends to play coy, I may as well join in and hope it makes me feel a tiny bit better about the situation.

  I pull my hair over one shoulder and fold my hands in my lap. “About what you said last night—”

  “Of course,” he agrees with a nod. “The forms you signed were the Secrecy Agreement—a standard NDA—and
an application for admittance into the Human-Immortal Affairs aware human registry. The same day, I completed my sponsor application.”

  “Okay, and you’re considered my sponsor because you’re the one who told me about immortals?”

  “That’s correct.”

  Sounds straightforward enough, but—

  “What does that really mean?”

  He glances away. “How should I put this...? As your immortal sponsor, I am responsible for you and your place within immortal society. As such, I was granted some level of legal standing over you when it comes to related affairs.”

  I feel like I saw something similar mentioned on a page in Ice’s paperwork. Maybe I should have actually read them before signing them. Or asked about it then instead of waiting until now.

  Oh, well.

  “And you used that standing to enroll me in some experimental program?” I ask, just to be sure.

  “I thought you may find it interesting,” he reasons, rubbing his jaw. “This program has been around for decades. It’s harmless enough, and any human admitted into the registry is eligible to apply.”

  “Okay... But what is it?”

  With a sigh, he leans back in his chair. “It’s not so uncommon for humans to learn of immortals for one reason or another, but the transition can be a struggle due to the vast differences between the two groups.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off by raising his hand.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m perfectly aware that Night took it upon herself to enlighten you on those matters already, so I won’t bother explaining the difference between us further.”

  I flash an apologetic smile. He waves it off and moves on.

  “In any case, the program’s goal is to streamline the process of integrating aware humans into a predominantly immortal-operated society. We have a distinct culture, and humans typically exist outside of it, so it’s...” He glances away. “Well, it can be difficult for many immortals to accept humans into the fold.”

  Immortals are prejudiced against humans? I’m not surprised, but it leaves me with more questions than answers.

  “How is this program supposed to help me?”

  He smiles and hands the envelope to me. It’s a standard, white mailing envelope with my full name, Jayde Nicole Palmer, written on the back in bold pen.

  “I believe it’s your new ID,” he says.

  “New ID?”

  He shrugs. “It may also be an acceptance letter.”

  The single sheet of paper inside the envelope indeed has a new California ID card with my name and photo attached at the bottom. I expected it to be different somehow, but I don’t notice anything new or unfamiliar about it.

  The top half of the page is a typed letter.

  Dear Jayde Palmer and Sponsor...

  Clearing my throat, I read aloud, “We are pleased to announce that your request for admittance into the U.S. Department of Human-Immortal Affairs Aware Human Registry was accepted. Your personal information has been successfully updated in our database. In addition, after careful review, your application for enrollment in the Human Immortal Program was approved...”

  I trail off and continue reading in my head, but there’s not much else. Nothing revealing, anyway. A vague thanks from the Human Advocacy Unit. A sentence referencing my updated ID. A messy signature below a printed name at the bottom of the page.

  Victor Morano...

  Who is that?

  Whatever; it doesn’t matter.

  I peel the card away from the paper and scrutinize both sides for anything to differentiate it from my old one. With the exception of the updated issue and expiration dates, it appears identical.

  Confused, I voice my concern.

  Ice thinks for a moment, nods, and fishes a wallet out of his pocket. I watch for him to slip up on hiding the thing in his lap, but he doesn’t even as he removes a card from his wallet and offers it to me.

  Giving up, I accept the card—a California driver’s license.

  “Take a look,” he says.

  I examine it carefully, but the only real difference between his license and my ID—besides the obvious—is that he’s over twenty-one. His card has the horizontal layout while mine is still vertical. And his photo is flattering.

  Born April 13th. He’s six-foot-two.

  I return the card.

  “There is no visible difference between our cards and anyone else’s,” he explains. “The real difference is concealed within the barcode on the back.”

  I flip my ID over and run my fingers across the barcode.

  “Normally, it contains the same information that’s written on the front in an electronic format. However, for immortals—and humans like yourself—the barcodes store additional encrypted information, accessible only by certain devices. Any other way of setting them apart could raise suspicion if the wrong person were to notice.”

  “I guess slapping an ‘immortal’ label on the card would be too obvious?”

  “That’s the idea.” With a laugh, he sets his wallet on the desk behind him. “Now then, enough suspense. This is what you’re really here for, right?”

  I force a smile and tuck my new ID into my pocket while he reveals the object he spent the whole conversation hiding. It’s a small, thin, rectangular package, neatly wrapped in silvery paper and topped with a tiny, blue bow.

  “A gift—courtesy of The U.S. Department of Human-Immortal Affairs, Research Division.”

  Research Division?

  He hands it to me, and I hesitate before taking it.

  The box is surprisingly light, and the metallic paper reflects the sunlight coming in through the window. The ribbon and bow are similar in color to his eyes—the eyes of a water immortal. Was that intentional? Is he the one who wrapped it?

  I glance up to meet his gaze.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Open it and find out.”

  I remove the bow and tear the thin wrapping paper to reveal the plain, black jewelry gift box underneath. Whatever is inside, it’s from Human-Immortal Affairs. It’s not from Ice.

  Calm down.

  With a deep breath, I remove the lid.

  Inside the box, nestled in cottony padding, is a necklace. A pendant featuring a blue, diamond-shaped gemstone. The stone itself is taller than it is wide, rather flat, and mounted on a silver base with four tiny prongs holding it in place at each corner. The delicate chain twists as I lift the necklace out of its box, and the light from the window reveals the gem’s translucent and reflective properties. I’ve never seen anything quite like it—in cut, color, or anything else. It’s beautiful. Mesmerizing, almost.

  This is for me?

  “What is it?” I ask again.

  “The River Sapphire” he says. “It’s a synthetic gemstone. A scientific marvel, I suppose. Theoretically, it should enable you to morph.”

  “Morph? You mean turn into a cat? Like you?” I look up, surprised to find my own curiosity reflected in his eyes.

  “Theoretically,” he agrees with a short laugh.

  “That’s amazing! How does it work?”

  His smile wavers. “The River Sapphire is an untested trial item developed for you specifically. They’ve made similar gemstones in the past for others, but it was explained to me that the utilization varies for the individual.”

  “Oh.”

  The creator doesn’t even know how it works?

  Great. Wish me luck.

  “You could start by trying it on,” he suggests.

  He’s clearly as intrigued by the prospect of me turning into a cat as I am. It’s something I never thought could be possible—even after learning about immortals.

  What fur color will I have?

  Will my eyes still be green?

  Not wanting to disappoint, I stand in front of the full-length mirror on the closet door. I look both nervous and excited, and Ice watches my reflection from the desk chair. Then, with my eyes closed, I
fasten the necklace around my neck. I wait a moment, but Ice says nothing, and I don’t feel any different, so I open my eyes to check.

  Of course, my body remains unchanged in the mirror.

  The intensely blue River Sapphire rests at the top of my sternum, a gentle weight just below my collarbone. The pendant isn’t gaudy or obnoxious, and the color complements my eyes, but it failed to accomplish its intended purpose.

  Ice’s reflection appears rather disappointed as well, so I turn and crack a smile. “Do you think it has a transformation phrase—like in a cartoon?”

  “Cute.” He chuckles, but his expression mellows. He rubs his jaw and glances away. “Unfortunately, I don’t know much about it. I spoke with one of the scientists who made the gemstone before I left, but I wasn’t offered many specific details.”

  “Well, I like the necklace even if it doesn’t work. Thanks for giving this to me.”

  He sighs. “As I said, it’s not from me.”

  “It is from you,” I insist, if only because I think it might cheer him up. “You’re the one who signed me up for the program—or whatever—right?”

  “I suppose. In that case, you’re welcome.” He offers me a faint smile before standing. “Take good care of it, will you? Those gemstones aren’t easy to obtain.”

  “Of course.”

  I’m disappointed too, but is it so terrible that I can’t morph the instant I put it on? The River Sapphire is part of an experimental program, right? It’s an untested product, and he said the gemstones work differently for everyone, anyway. Surely, they don’t always activate right away.

  Right?

  We watch each other in silence for a while.

  He glances away first.

  “It suits you,” he says.

  It’s a compliment. He’s trying to be nice, but the clear hint of disinterest in his voice bothers me—the same as last night.

  I sigh and turn back to the mirror.

  As I mess with my hair, Ice says nothing and remains standing in front of his desk. I watch his reflection. His muted expression. After another moment of hesitation, he leaves the room.

  Yeah... The River Sapphire is lovely.

  eighteen