Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(64)

“Night, little man,” Trevor says. Why does he seem perfectly relaxed? My breath still hasn’t returned.

“How come it’s so dark in here?” Brody asks, looking up at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed since I first walked in, but now it seems pitch-black and suspicious.

“We just forgot to turn on the lights,” I blurt out. “It didn’t look so dark because the desk lamp is on, but now it does.” I practically run to the light switch and flip it on. When I walk back over, Trevor’s eyes have a teasing smile in them.

“Say good night to Addison,” Trevor says to Brody.

“Good night, Addison.”

“Good night.”

“Brody,” a woman’s voice calls, followed by the woman herself. “Let’s go.” She’s pretty: long hair, dark eyes, curvy. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and has a pair of fluffy red slippers on her feet. She meets my eyes. “Oh,” she says in surprise. “I didn’t realize you had company, Trev.”

“Mom, this is Addison.”

She comes into the room and holds out her hand. “I’m DeAnn, good to meet you.”

I shake her hand. “You too.”

“I don’t know if Trevor warned you about me, but whenever I meet one of his friends, I like to get the basics so I feel like I’m in the loop. I know it embarrasses Trevor to no end, but that’s what moms do. So tell me a little about yourself.”

“Um.” Is she serious? I look at Trevor, and he nods as if to say, Yes, she’s totally serious, and I’m sorry. “Okay, well, I go to Carter High with your son. I’m a junior. Uh …” I freeze up, because this is the part where I would normally say where I’m from and I can’t bring myself to once again tell that lie. I search my mind, but the first things that pop into it are weird, random facts. Somehow I don’t think Trevor’s mom is asking for the story of my first kiss or wants to know that I have a sensitive gag reflex.

“She loves to read, Mom. Like these really old, boring books. The ones Dad likes.” He points to the graphic novel on his desk. “Plus lame ones, like I do. And she’s not a huge football fan. I think she only tolerates it for our sake. She’s supersmart, my main competition in Government. And since coming into my room, she has probably had to stop herself several times from cleaning up the shoes spilling out of my closet.”

His mom laughs. “Maybe you can teach Trev some organization, then.”

I nod dumbly. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I tell myself very forcefully that I’m not going to cry over the fact that Trevor just listed off several things about me like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Brody tugs on his mom’s arm impatiently.

“Oh,” Trevor continues, “and remember how I always used to get detention for being late to sixth period?”

His mom shakes her head in disapproval. “Yes.”

“Well, Addison is so anal about being on time that she forces all of us to get back to campus after lunch.”

“I do not.” My voice comes out a little wobbly and I wonder if he noticed.

“Yes. You do.”

His mom smiles at me. “That’s not a bad thing. I, for one, am grateful that someone can get this boy back to school on time. I think people as easygoing as Trevor don’t worry about small things like the concept of time.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mom, I know, I’m always late. No need for a public-service announcement.”

After another tug on her arm from Brody, she says, “I’m sorry, I’d better get this kid to bed. It was so good to meet you, Addison.”

“You too.”

“And thanks for indulging me. See, now I feel like I know who you are.” And with that she leaves.

I’m standing a little in front of Trevor, my back to him. The silence stretches out, and I try to think of something to say to dispel it. Thank you seems like too little … or maybe too much, since he couldn’t possibly understand how much I needed to hear what he just said. How much I needed to know that even without my ability, I am someone worth knowing. That every little and ridiculous quality I exhibit makes me who I am.

“And right now,” he says, “you’re dying because no one is saying anything.”

I bite my lip. I will not cry over this. “I’d better get going too.” I walk toward the door as fast as I can.

“Addie. Stay.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called me Addie, and I know I’m reading way more into it than I should. I stop by the door, hand gripping the frame for support. “You’re confused. You need time to think.”

He laughs a little. “What am I confused about?”

“You just broke up with your girlfriend.”

“I broke up with Stephanie over a month ago. She finally got it tonight.”

I don’t know what to say.

“I’m starting a new comic. With all the reading you do, I thought you could help me with the writing.” He opens his top drawer and pulls out a sketchbook.

I take a deep breath. I am in perfect control. “Really? What’s it about?”

He nods me over with his head, and I go to his side. He starts with the character’s eyes and by the time he moves to her hair, a mess of blond curls, I realize he’s drawing me. “Superheroes. You can finally have those powers you want. As long as you don’t kill me with them.”