Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) - By Dan Rix Page 0,1

was the same spot. Exactly where the MRI showed a lump of scar tissue in his brain. The headaches were one thing, just pressure on his brain, but this—this had felt like a piece had actually torn off. And all because a stranger in a gray hoodie bumped into him.

The doctor he had seen earlier wasn’t the first to predict that he and his half would have problems. He had seen a dozen doctors the last year alone, brain surgeons and clairvoyant specialists, and they all said the same thing; the scar tissue would hamper his emotional connection to his half, they just didn’t know how much.

No surgeon dared operate on him. The lump of scar tissue was pushing up against his clairvoyant channel. One mistake with a scalpel could sever it, destroying the already delicate connection between Aaron and his half. They would both die.

Aaron was still standing at the fence, a new wave of dread soaking through him, when he realized there was someone behind him.

“Number eleven, right?”

Aaron recognized the shaggy-haired guy as Corona Blanca’s starting setter.

“Yeah, what’s up?” said Aaron.

The other setter extended his hand. “I wanted to meet you,” he said. “I was watching you set during the game, and with a pair of hands like yours, Pueblo should have won.”

“Thanks,” said Aaron, as they shook hands, “the better team won.”

Corona’s setter shrugged. “Hey, a couple of our players are heading down to the beach. We got a bonfire going and a couple of coolers. You feel like a postgame party?”

“Maybe next time.”

“No pressure,” said the setter, and he headed back to the cluster of green jerseys.

Aaron rubbed his scalp again. It still felt raw. As he lowered his hand, he wondered if the doctor had been optimistic. Maybe symptoms would show up even before his birthday. Like tonight, the searing pain caused by the hooded figure. Maybe this was his last night as a normal seventeen-year-old.

If it was, he damn well wasn’t going to waste it lying in bed.

“I changed my mind,” Aaron called. “Where’s the bonfire?”

The setter glanced back, grinning. “Arroyo beach. Once you hit the sand, turn right. You can’t miss us.”

***

He really couldn’t miss them. Aaron felt the bonfire’s heat a good sixty feet from the flames, which leapt above the silhouettes of what looked like Corona Blanca’s entire school. And some.

They had taken over the whole beach, crowding around open coolers and sitting on pieces of driftwood, drinks in hand, their faces glowing reddish-bronze. Aaron wished he hadn’t come. This wasn’t his school.

At least he could have changed out of his damn red and white Pueblo volleyball jersey—

“Number eleven, over here!”

Aaron spotted Corona’s setter along with the rest of the Corona Blanca volleyball team chowing down on pizza off to his right. As soon as Aaron reached them, he felt an icy sting as the setter slapped a can of soda into his palm.

Aaron took a swig and scanned their surroundings. A brief flicker of red by the base of the cliffs caught his attention. At first he thought it was an ember from the fire, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out two seated figures on the beach just beyond the lighted radius of the bonfire. He recognized one of them.

The figure in the gray hoodie.

The other one was a girl, a blonde with long, wavy hair, and Aaron couldn’t quite tell from the distance, but she looked pretty—and very bored. As Aaron watched, the hooded figure slipped a bright red object into his pocket.

Aaron grabbed the sleeve of Corona’s setter, his heart racing. “Who is that?” he said, nodding to the pair of them. “Over there in the dark.” He didn’t want to lose sight of the figure again.

The setter and a few of his teammates followed Aaron’s gaze. They all laughed.

“You noticed her too, huh? Welcome to the club,” said the setter. “That’s Amber Lilian. New student at Corona Blanca.”

“Sure, she’s eye candy,” said number ten, “she’s also sassy as hell.”

“I mean the guy,” said Aaron. “He bumped into me earlier.”

The team went silent. Then the setter spoke in a much quieter voice. “That’s Clive Selavio. Also new.”

“Her half?” said Aaron.

“Her boyfriend, but they have the same birthday, so it’s pretty much a sure thing. I think their families moved here together.”

Aaron nodded. Same birthdays. Given that halves were usually born near each other—often within the same city—halves did sometimes find each other before their birthdays. But people got it wrong too. He looked