Defect - By Ryann Kerekes Page 0,14
yesterday. “So, how’d I do, Doc?”
He looks up, and his eyes narrow, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve.
“Well,” he draws out the word, “that’s the thing.” He sets down the papers he’s been reading. “Didn’t really learn much.” He releases a deep sigh. “O’Donovan’s not happy with me. But the thing is – your brain just seems to work differently.”
I consider his words, but they have no meaning. I know I am painfully normal, that’s the main thing about me. I’ve never stood out in any way, from smarts, to looks, to personality, to athleticism. I’ve always been average – at best. “So, what are we going to do today? More tests?”
He pats the stool across from him. “Come sit down.”
I climb onto the stool.
“How much do you know about your father?”
His question knocks me back; it was not at all what I was expecting. “Hardly anything. My mother didn’t talk about him much, and I’ve never met him.”
At this, his mouth quirks.
I’m feeling brave, and so I ask, “What do you know about my father?”
His smile falters and his Adam’s apple bobs, like I’ve somehow made him nervous. “That’s not … I can’t.”
“You know something.” I look him straight in the eye, refusing to back down.
“Eve.”
“Please. I need to know.”
He presses the intercom button. “She’s all yours.”
“What about my tests today? Won’t O’Donovan be expecting a report?” I don’t give two shits about the tests. I just want to stay with him longer, and see if I can get him to tell me what he knows about my father.
He stands and straightens the papers on his desk. “You passed all your tests today,” he says firmly. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Now go.”
The door clicks open, and I whip around, relieved to see Will instead of Kane. My tongue goes to the swollen part of my bottom lip and lingers there.
Will does not look happy to see me. He waits by the door, and after a second, I hurry over to him. He’s not someone you want to keep waiting.
We walk down the hall in silence for a few minutes. Once again, he walks ahead, leading the way, knowing I’ll follow like a well-trained dog. “Where’s Kane?”
“You’ll be with me today.” I’m not sure how, but I can tell he’s smiling. “That okay?” He says it like I have choices here.
“Whatever.” I do my best to sound indifferent.
He leads me back to the gymnasium, but instead of scanning his finger on the sensor to go inside, he hesitates by the door. Then he turns to face me. “Actually, let’s go outside. We’ll start with a run today.”
He goes past the door and steps up an inclined hallway that leads to an exterior door. He places his finger over the sensor and pushes it open. The sunlight is disorienting – I haven’t seen it directly in so long it stings my eyes and makes them water, but I stare up into it and let the warmth wash over me.
“Take one lap,” Will nods his chin toward the worn path around the edge of the fence. The other side of the fence looks so far away; I can barely make it out.
Without waiting for another prompt, I start off for the path that’s been worn down by the many feet that have treaded along it before me. The thin canvas shoes I’m wearing aren’t designed for running, but I don’t care. It feels good to be outside, and to be doing something as common as going for a jog.
Will surprises me by falling into step beside me. His glances down and sets his watch. I feel a sudden twinge, remembering Kane doing the same thing yesterday right before he tossed me into the pool, but let it go.
I fall into a steady rhythm, setting my own pace. I know I’ll never keep up with Will, so I don’t even try. I have no one to impress here. My stride is slow and even, but without breakfast, and weakened by the medication, I’m not sure how long I can keep it up.
The path around the perimeter of the yard is big – at least a mile around. Within minutes, I’m out of breath. I work to convince myself it’s more mental than anything else, and I tell my legs to keep going, my arms to keep pumping, my breathing to stay even. I have this strange sense of disappointing Will if I stop to walk. He jogs beside me, looking