Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(47)

“It’s the cover of the comic book he’s drawing.” He points to the desk, and I walk over. Next to his desk a garbage can overflows with crumpled paper. Above it, pages are pinned up on the wall. They’re obviously pictures he’s drawn of the characters from his comic book.

“He’s really good,” I say, my finger running along the edge of one of the pages. I reach down and grab a paper out of his trash. It’s a redheaded girl in a cape, jumping between two buildings. I have no idea why he threw it away. If he thinks this is garbage, Trevor must be really hard on himself. “Do you think he’d let me read his comic?” I ask Brody.

He laughs. “He doesn’t let anyone read it.”

“Not even you?”

“He lets me see the pictures.”

“Addison?” Trevor says, from the doorway behind me.

I whirl around like I’ve just been caught snooping, holding his trash … which I have. “Sorry, I …” Pocketing the paper, I swallow down my embarrassment. Trevor scans his room, probably deciding how embarrassed he should be.

I point to his bookcase and quickly say, “You told me you didn’t like books.”

He smiles. “Those don’t really count.”

“Those totally count. I have Ninja Wars and Elementals myself.” I nod my head toward his desk. “And it looks like you succeed at drawing a lot more than you think you do.”

“Sometimes I get lucky.”

“You must not understand the definition of luck.”

He meets my eyes then, and I think he’s about to say something when Rowan’s loud voice yells down the hall, “Trevor!”

“Oh, I forgot. Rowan has some sort of presentation for all of us.” He gives me a yes-I-constantly-humor-Rowan look.

I don’t want to leave this room and rejoin the party. I could spend the rest of the night parked in front of Trevor’s bookcase (or his trash, for that matter), discussing the novels on his shelf. He must sense that too, or maybe it’s my longing gaze at the books, because he says, “You can come back later. My bookcase is all yours.”

I walk toward the door. “I’ve just decided those are my favorite five words in the world.”

He laughs, and as I pass him he grabs hold of the corner of the paper that’s sticking out of my pocket, freeing it.

I scrunch my nose. “You were just going to throw it away.”

“Exactly.” He wads it up and tosses it across the room. It lands on top of the others in the trash.

I’m more disappointed than I should be that I can’t keep his drawing. It would’ve looked good on my wall. I make it a goal to acquire at least one of his drawings. It shouldn’t be too hard, since the floor of his car is littered with them, but then I realize I want him to willingly give me one. Better yet, I want him to draw one for me. That is my new goal.

When we get back into the game room, Rowan says, “Okay, everybody. Come over by the couches. I have a surprise for Trevor.”

Trevor glances at me like I should know what is about to happen, but I’m clueless. Rowan stands in front of the group. “This next weekend is the first anniversary of Trevor’s injury. It also happens to be the weekend that Lincoln High dares to show their faces again in our stadium.”

Heat slowly creeps up my face.

“I was able to get my hands on a poster of this year’s Lincoln High football team.” He runs to the corner and comes back with a rolled-up poster. He unfurls it and lays it on the coffee table in front of us. My eyes travel over all the familiar people, stopping on the smiling face of Duke. “We all know how impossible it is to get information on any of these people. It’s like their school is some sort of national secret. But I say we each pick two members of the starting lineup and find out as much as we can about them when they’re here this Friday.”

“Mr. Buford would be proud,” Liam says with a laugh.

Rowan points at him. “Exactly. We know something weird is going on at that school. Trevor’s injury was not an isolated incident—there have been players at other schools. Trevor was on the road to college stardom, and they took him out. We can’t just sit back and let them get away with it.” He jams his finger onto the poster. It lands right on Duke’s face. I flinch.

Rowan will never find out anything. It’s why the Compound has a Containment Committee. Information never gets very far. But I find myself wishing he could discover who’s behind the injuries. I wonder if Laila has gotten the list of abilities from the front office and if it will shed any light on who’s to blame.

Trevor laughs, but it sounds forced. “All right, Rowan. That’s enough. How about if we just hang the poster and throw darts at it.” He stands.

“I’m dead serious. We have to do surveillance. Some of their students come and watch the game. We can place spies in their student section.”

Trevor grabs the poster, rolls it up, and whacks Rowan on the shoulder with it. “Sounds like a plan.”





CHAPTER 21


preP?A?RA?tion: n. precautionary measures taken to be ready for future events





Duke, Laila, and I sit in his car after the football game. I haven’t stopped shaking since Poison showed me his power, but I’m trying to keep it under control because I’ve never seen Duke angry before. The muscle in his jaw twitches several times as he clenches and unclenches it.