Would you stay how old you were when you drank from it? Cause what if you didn’t find the fountain ’til you were ninety or something? Then it’s like, what’s even the point? Or would it reverse time and you’d be young again? But then what if you drank too much and it turned you back into a baby? If that happened, would you look like a baby but have all your old-person thoughts like in that Brad Pitt movie? Or would you think like a baby too?
Subject #8, Special Agent Mike Ruiz: I’m not at liberty to give an in-depth comment. But I can confirm that, at the time, Mr. Oswald’s products were being investigated by the FDA.
Event: J. Quincy Oswald (Cont.)
J. Quincy Oswald overstayed his welcome. At least, I thought so. I was more than happy when, shortly after dusk, he said he should be going.
“You’ll be in touch?” Mother asked, seeing him to the front porch. I trailed behind, ready to push Oswald forcefully into his car if necessary.
“You can count on it,” he replied.
Outside, Oswald unlocked his monstrous, gold Range Rover. Funny that with all his talk of immortality, he didn’t balk at driving an SUV that was notoriously bad for the environment. Apparently, Oswald planned to live forever while the world around him died.
Before he could leave, another car pulled into the driveway. Cass and Arden. We planned to hang out and do homework while they tried to change my mind about attending the homecoming dance.
They didn’t realize I was aware of the last part.
Cass maneuvered her car around the Range Rover and she and Arden climbed out, looking at Oswald with open curiosity. He gazed back with a similar expression.
“Who do we have here?” Oswald asked.
“My friends,” I said curtly. “We’ll be going now. Nice to see you, Mr. Oswald.”
But instead of allowing me to slip away with Cass and Arden in tow, Oswald stepped toward them, smiling his too-slick smile.
“J. Quincy Oswald,” he said, holding out his hand. “But you can call me Oz.”
Cass’s eyebrows shot up. “The great and powerful Oz, in the flesh.”
I’d given her a full recap of the myTality™ conference, and she’d decided instantly that Oswald and his followers were a source of great fascination.
“Well, I don’t know ’bout all that,” Oswald said with faux modesty.
“It was nice seeing you, Mr. Oswald,” I repeated forcefully. “Good luck with your pursuits.”
I motioned for Cass and Arden to follow me and began walking through the yard, in the direction of my lab.
“Can’t we hang out in your bedroom?” Cass asked, hurrying to catch up. “The lab is so…lab-like.”
“I’d like to distance myself from my house right now.”
“The lab is fine with me,” Arden said.
Once we’d left Mother and Oswald safely behind, Cass said, “So that’s Oz.”
“Please don’t call him that.”
“Come on. It’s hilarious. You can’t tell me it isn’t hilarious.”
“Do I look amused?”
“When do you ever look amused?”
Once we were settled in the lab—Cass claiming the comfortable desk chair, while Arden and I were relegated to the cold, metal, folding chairs—I began to relax. Kepler peered suspiciously from his hiding spot under my desk. Arden moved to pet him and he hissed, making her quickly draw back.
“I didn’t expect Oz to be so…” Cass trailed off.
“Smug? Arrogant?”
“Hot.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s the leader of a pyramid scheme, conning thousands of people out of their hard-earned money to line his own pockets.”
“But he is handsome,” Arden said.
“He seemed plenty taken with you too.” I frowned, thinking of how eagerly Oswald had introduced himself to my friends.
Arden shook her head and her cheeks turned splotchy red. “With Cass maybe. Not me.”
“Hey,” Cass said, leaning forward. “Don’t do that.”
Arden shrugged. “It’s true. I’m not trying to insult myself. It’s just, look at us.”
To be fair, Cass did draw the eye. She wore a sparkly tutu-like skirt and had her hair in a ballerina bun. Arden, meanwhile, was clad in her usual shapeless cardigan. And more important, Cass’s shoulders were straighter. Her chin was raised higher. She carried herself like she deserved to be paid attention to, while Arden twisted her fingers anxiously through her long hair, shoulders pulled toward her chest, eyes downcast. Her posture screamed don’t look at me, though I know she wanted to be seen just as much as the next person.
Still. I felt 92 percent sure Oswald had seen her. It was Arden his eyes lingered on.
“Look, Arden,” Cass said. “So you’re not wearing some weird outfit. You think that