all a lie. And I also feel like I should’ve known. Out of everyone, I should’ve picked up that something wasn’t right with her. I guess when I say I wonder if she did it on purpose, I’m hoping maybe it wasn’t her. Like maybe Davis had some kind of mind-control Variant or machine that made her do all those things.”
I sighed. Zara’s actions had affected so many people, in ways I didn’t even fully comprehend. The fact that Dot was hurting made me so fucking mad . . . but I breathed through it. I needed to be there for her.
“I wish I could tell you that was the case—that Zara’s as much a victim as we are—but we both know there are no recorded cases of Variants with mind-control abilities. And when I spoke to her on the phone, she said, ‘I fucked up.’ She owned it. I’m sorry, Dot, but she did this, and now she has to pay for it.”
“I know. I’m not suggesting she should get away with it. I just . . . I don’t know!” She threw her arms up and let them flop back down to her lap. “This whole situation is so fucked up. What happened to Charlie is fucked up. What happened to you is fucked up. What Zara did is fucked up. Her whole childhood was fucked up. I mean, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that her parents were involved with Variant Valor from the start. They’re about as elitist and bigoted as you can get. And they were so hard on her. So mean. I remember this one time I was at Zara’s place—we must’ve been, like, thirteen—and her mother came right out and said, ‘You don’t even have an inkling of an ability; you’re a disappointment and a waste of space.’ It was awful. I can’t imagine the kind of shit they said when no one else was around. I just wonder if she would’ve done all those terrible things if she’d had a better family life.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Zara couldn’t choose her parents, and neither could I. But at some point, we have to stop making excuses.” Maybe it was a harsh way to look at things, but I just couldn’t accept any argument that absolved Zara of the responsibility she had for her own actions. I was simply too angry.
We settled back into silence. I didn’t want to argue with Dot or take my anger out on her. None of this was her fault.
She reached a hand between the loungers, and I took it without hesitation, squeezing her fingers. We held hands until the rage in my chest subsided, until she stopped staring into her lap as if the weight of sadness made her head impossible to lift, until the warmth of the sun and the sound of laughter behind us reminded us we had things to be happy about.
The silence once again turned comfortable, and we got back to reading.
After barely ten minutes, Dot let her magazine flop onto her chest and gazed at the glistening pool. “That water looks so inviting.”
I dropped my book to the ground beside me. “It really does. I’m just trying to figure out if it’s warm enough.”
“Food’s up!” Ethan yelled, sending a flock of birds flying out of some nearby oaks.
My stomach grumbled.
“Let’s test the water after we eat.” Dot led the way to the outdoor dining area.
We spent a relaxed few hours eating, drinking, joking around, and decidedly not talking about Zara, Variant Valor, the Human Empowerment Network, or Davis.
We did brave the pool in the end, Ed leading the charge as he pulled his shirt off. “I’ve been dying to get into that pool since I got here, but it’s been too damn cold!”
His defined, tanned chest was narrower and more delicate than Charlie’s, sprinkled with black chest hair that matched the curls on his head, but the two of them had one distinct thing in common. It wasn’t until Ed ran for the pool that I saw his scars. Charlie’s burn scars covered his right side, but Ed’s were mostly on his back, starting at his shoulder blades and disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.
“I passed out from the smoke, and he shielded me from the fire with his body until they came to get us out. I’m so lucky to have him.” Charlie stood next to me as the others stripped down and jumped in after Ed.