A World Without You(57)

Dr. Franklin greets everyone as they enter the big open foyer at the base of the ornate stairs of Berkshire. A laminated banner hangs over the first-floor landing—WELCOME, FAMILIES—and the staff has added festive paper table covers to the buffet, where they’re piling up mounds of grilled hot dogs, ruffled potato chips, and dip, but it all feels . . . forced. Everyone’s smile is plastered on, but hardly anyone looks happy to be here, especially after Dr. Franklin introduces the officials, saying that they’re here as consultants “during our tragedy.” Nothing like reminding everyone about a missing student to bring up the cheer factor.

“Well, let me go get my thirteen-hundred-dollar hot dog,” my father says. He smiles like it’s a joke, but I can tell he doesn’t think it’s funny at all. Mom squeezes my arm, like she’s trying to say everything’s okay.

“Dr. Franklin,” she says, turning to him. He greets her with a too-broad smile, all his teeth showing. “May I speak with you?”

She draws him aside, and they start speaking quietly. I glance at my sister, who’s just standing there, texting on her phone, ignoring us all.

Ryan sidles up beside me, four hot dogs on his plate. “This blows. Let’s leave.”

I shake my head.

“Come on,” Ryan whines.

I watch as Mom nods emphatically at whatever Dr. Franklin is saying. I wait for them to look at me—obviously they’re talking about me—but instead, Mom looks past where I’m standing.

To Phoebe.

“Would you look at them?” Ryan says, pointing to Harold’s family—two dads, a younger sister, and an older brother. They’re so loud it feels like they’re taking up the whole foyer. Except Harold, of course. He’s always quiet, even around his family. But he’s smiling, at least—that’s something. His little sister came from Haiti, and his older brother is from Cambodia. They’re among the few living people Harold ever bothers to talk about.

“They’re like a window display for diversity,” Ryan says, not caring if anyone overhears him. The little sister is wearing a neon yellow sundress and has her hair up in two twisted pigtails. She’s bouncing around like she’s eaten nothing in her life but pure sugar.

“They look like a nice family,” I say. I watch Harold’s whole face come alive with happiness in a way I’ve never really seen before.

“They look like a bunch of freaks.”

I’d really like to tell Ryan to shove off, but my mother’s coming toward us. No . . . she’s heading toward my sister. She steers Phoebe over to the Doctor, saying something to her in a low voice. Phoebe shakes her head no, but then they’re in front of the Doctor, and Mom pokes Pheebs in the back until she smiles politely at him.

Ryan stuffs a hot dog in his mouth. “Come on, I’m leaving,” he says. He reaches for me, but I sidestep away. I want to know what the Doctor is saying to Phoebe. She glares at him, resentment in her eyes, and I can tell she wants to say something to him but can’t because Mom is right there. What are they talking about that’s making her so angry?

And then Phoebe’s eyes shoot to mine. So. They’re talking about me. But Phoebe’s whole demeanor changes as she looks quickly away, focusing again on what the Doctor is telling her. She shifts visibly from angry to . . . afraid?

I’m just out of earshot; I can’t make anything out. My focus zeroes in on the Doctor with such intensity that the rest of the world fades away. Phoebe’s a smart girl, but I don’t want her believing whatever lies Dr. Franklin is telling her.

A sound like a roaring ocean wave washes over me, and I stagger from the impact of it. I look around quickly—Ryan’s still beside me, chewing in slow motion. Everyone in the foyer is milling around but barely moving. I see Harold’s little sister’s neon yellow dress fluttering; she’s paused mid-jump, her feet above the ground, but it’s like gravity quit working for her and she’s almost floating, sinking by millimeters.

“Hello?” I say, but all the sound around me is low, almost subsonic.

I haven’t stopped time—I’ve just slowed it to a crawl.

This is my chance. The timestream is working for me for once, helping me to get closer to Dr. Franklin and Phoebe without them noticing. I must be moving like a hummingbird from their perspective, barely visible as I scoot around the slow-motion bodies of the people between my sister and me. Even so, I try to avoid their direct line of sight, moving quickly to the shadows at the edge of the room and creeping forward in bursts.

When I’m close enough, I close my eyes and release my grip on time. A sound like all the air in the room being sucked away fills my ears, but everyone around me acts and moves and talks normally again. Ryan looks around, surprised at my disappearance, but he shrugs and makes his way to the stairs on his own.

“I know I’m here at Berkshire Academy, and I work with your brother, but in situations like these . . .” Dr. Franklin’s voice trails off. “I don’t just help Bo. I’m here for you too.”

Phoebe sort of shrugs, flipping her phone over and over in her hand. “I don’t need help,” she says.

“It’s not easy living with someone who has special needs, like your brother. Sometimes it can feel as if you’re overshadowed,” Dr. Franklin says.

Well, that’s entirely untrue. I may have powers, but Phoebe’s the special one to my parents. A total daddy’s girl, with straight As and a mile-long list of extracurriculars. Phoebe has designed her whole life to make people love her, from our parents to college admissions officers. Nothing I ever do comes close to competing with the perfection of Phoebe.