Pivot Point (Pivot Point, #1)(51)

“For an older guy, your dad is hot,” Laila says, staring at the door he just shut.

“Gross.” So much for thinking of him like a father.

“I’m just saying.” Laila moves her bag onto my bed, opens it, and pulls out several papers. “Tell me you love me,” she says, presenting them to me.

“What is …” I start to ask, but then realize it’s an alphabetical list of all the kids at school. Next to the names are their abilities. “You are awesome.”

“I’ve highlighted the football players,” she says.

I meet her eyes. “And?”

“There aren’t any Mass Manipulators on the team, if that’s who injured his muscle. And if someone was making him relaxed to catch him off guard for the injury, there’s only one Mood Controller.” She takes the papers back from me and flips through a few pages. “This guy … Andrew. But he’s not a starter. In fact, he’s a freshman. Didn’t you say Trevor got hurt last year?”

“Yeah. He did.” I glance over her arm to look at the page. “Maybe their Mood Controller from last year graduated. Maybe Andrew is the replacement. What’s a freshman doing on the varsity team anyway? He could easily soothe the opposing team’s emotions from the bench.”

“True.” She tosses the papers onto my bed. “We’ll have to keep an eye out. Come on, let’s beautify ourselves.”

We walk through the parking lot on our way to the stadium. Laila stops at a car, pulls out her lipstick, and bends over to use the side mirror. She growls. “I can’t see a thing.” She yanks on the mirror, and the car alarm screams at her.

“Come on, let’s go,” I say, glancing around to see if the owner is nearby.

“No, I got this.” She holds up her hands, clad in lacy fingerless gloves, and the car goes silent.

My mouth falls open. “What the crap was that?”

“Okay, so don’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“I’ve been hanging out with Bobby, and he taught me how to extend my ability.”

“Extend your … what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know, kind of like advanced ability control.”

My mind flies through all the lectures my mom has ever given me about the dangers of untested mind experiments. “Are you crazy? Do you want brain damage? There’s a reason we’re not supposed to push our abilities until our minds are fully developed.” I know I sound a lot like my mother, but in this case my mother is right.

Laila snaps her gum. “What reason is that? So adults can maintain control over us? They just don’t think we can handle the extra power. They think we’ll abuse it.”

“I don’t know why they’d think that,” I say sarcastically, pointing to the car whose alarm she just disabled. “How?”

“I mentally find the car’s electrical board and Erase the last thirty seconds of its ‘memory.’” She finishes with air quotes.

I glance between the car and her several times.

“And there’s more,” she says. “Watch this.” She holds up her hands and closes her eyes. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. The car has already been wiped. But then suddenly, with a jolt that radiates through my body, the car wails back to life. I throw my hands over my ears, my shoulders going up as well. She smiles wide and then quiets the car again. I don’t move.

She points at me. “Why are you doing that? Why didn’t you just mentally muffle it?”

Why did I do that? Out of practice? “I don’t know. I was surprised, I guess.…” I lower my hands and stare at the car. My mind races. “Did you just …”

“I restored its memory.”

My mouth opens and closes twice before I’m finally able to say, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I couldn’t. Advanced. Ability. Control.” She laughs. “Come on.” She tugs on my arm, and we start walking again.

“You’ve been hanging out with Bobby?” I ask, the rest of her admission finally catching up with me. How did he of all people end up in her new pool of friends? “Bobby.”

“I know, I know.” She waves it off like it’s no big deal. “But I had to. I wanted to be able to defend myself. My dad has this creepy friend who keeps coming around the house, threatening my mom and me, and I found out Bobby is really good at enhancing abilities.”

We cut through the dark baseball field, toward the football stadium. “Some guy threatened you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’s a loser who gets off on scaring girls. It probably makes him feel tough. Nothing I can’t handle.”

I hook my arm in hers. “Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Speaking of, have you heard about a murdered girl around our age in the Compound?”

“What? No. Why?”

“It’s something my dad is investigating, but if you haven’t heard about it, I guess that means they haven’t released it to the public yet.”

“A murder? In the Compound? Are you sure? Who did it?”

“They’re interviewing suspects. It might not be a murder at all. They think she may have killed herself.”