Pivot Point (Pivot Point, #1)(65)

“Of course I will. You have to make yourself the villain.”

He laughs. “Okay, that could be fun.” He moves on to draw my body. He glances at me a few times, studying my shoulders and neck.

I self-consciously shift my weight from one foot to another. “Uh, excuse me,” I say, pointing to the drawing. “That outfit is a little tight. I can’t fight crime in that. I don’t think I can even breathe in that.”

“Superheroes have to have tight outfits so their clothes don’t get in the way when they’re fighting crime.” He adds an A on the chest.

“I go by my real name? I don’t even get a secret identity?”

“How do you know that stands for Addison? Maybe it stands for Amender or Ax Maiden or Apple Thrower.”

“Apple Thrower?”

“I couldn’t think of any more A names.”

I smile, glad our awkward moment is over. “Okay. So what’s my power?”

“What’s that one you wanted? Telekinesis?”

A lump moves up my throat. “No. I think I like the one you wanted better.”

“Telling the future?”

“Yeah.” I have to tell him. I know I do. My father can’t ask me to keep such a big part of who I am from someone I like so much. The Containment Committee will never even know, because I’m sure Trevor can keep a secret. “It’s called Clairvoyance.”

“It’s a cool ability. So we’ll make it so you can see terrible things that are going to take place and then try to change them before they happen.”

“Well, it doesn’t really work that way.”

“What doesn’t?”

“One person can’t change the future. Do you know how many people and things are involved in every major event that happens? Sure, you might be able to change some of the minor aspects of a day, but ultimately things that are going to happen, if you go along a certain path, do happen.”

Trevor stops drawing and looks at me. “Telling the future is only a cool power if the future can be changed.”

“I know. That’s why it’s kind of a lame power.” I put my hand on his desk for support, because I feel like I’m going to pass out.

“The way you’re portraying it is.” He adds a few finishing touches to the drawing of me and then holds it up to inspect. One of his fingers starts to twitch, and I quickly say, “Don’t you dare crumple up that drawing.”

“Your hair isn’t quite right.”

I touch my head, patting down the craziness that is my unruly curls. “Maybe you should make it straight. I’ve thought about straightening it before, and it would be easier to draw.”

He looks up at me as though deeply offended. “Why would you ever straighten your hair? Your hair is perfect.”

I blush with the compliment and look back at his drawing. “Trevor, you’re an amazing artist.” And I really am Clairvoyant. Divergent, to be exact. That’s what I need to say, but I can’t bring myself to. “You gave me too many muscles,” is what I actually say. Why is this so hard to tell him? It doesn’t help that my school is responsible for his shoulder. If I explain who I am, I’ll have to explain that as well, and how can he ever have a good opinion of a group of people who could do that to someone?

I grab the picture and study it. He got my eyes just right. “The cool thing about mind powers is that if someone has an advanced mind, they’ve usually learned how to do other cool things with it as well.”

“Like what?”

“Like improve their hearing and sight.”

“I like that. We should write that into the plot.”

“Okay.” That’s exactly what we’ll do. We’ll write the book of my high school and when it is all done, I’ll say, That’s my life. Then he’ll know that there are more good guys than villains. He’ll see that in every place there are people willing to do anything to get ahead, but the majority of my people are good. And he’ll know why I had to keep it all a secret. He’ll understand. He has to.

He stands and is only inches from me. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want something to drink?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll come with you.” I turn to go, but he pulls me back by my arm.

“Don’t best friends hug before they go anywhere?”

I smile. He thinks he’s being funny, but I can play this game. “As a matter of fact, they do.” I slide my hands past his ribs and under his arms.

He wraps his arms around me, and I relax into him with a happy sigh. But then he starts rubbing my back, and tingles spread down my spine. “Best friends don’t rub each other’s backs,” I tell him.

His hands stop moving, but then they press me closer to him. I can’t decide which is worse, because my whole body is on fire now.

“Will you let me read the handbook so I know all the rules?”

“Yes. I will.”

He bends down and rests his forehead on my shoulder, his breath warming my skin. Why haven’t I pushed him away yet? “Does the handbook cover this?” he says.

I nod.

His lips tickle my neck as they move along it. Is he trying to drive me crazy? “It says definitely no.”

His lips come to rest against the soft spot below my ear. I can no longer think straight. It’s then I realize I have a fistful of the back of his shirt. I clutch it tighter. He must consider this encouragement because he takes my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. They move over mine softly, his breath seeping into my mouth. My heart feels close to bursting. I want to rip up the fake handbook and throw it in his overflowing trash can. Holy crap, Trevor the nice guy is an amazing kisser.