The Second Author

Chapter Fifteen (revised)

"And I'm going to finish writing it."

"What? You know how to do that?"

"She left a bunch of notes. The whole thing's practically written out already."

"Do you think you have time for that?" he asked. "You already seem pretty stressed."

"I don't know, and I don't know." I sighed and dropped my head onto my knees.

"Sounds like you need help."

"Yes," I mumbled. I pulled my head back up. "Daisy's coming over on Sunday."

"Who? You know what? Never mind. I don't need to know. I'm sure she'll get you taken care of," he said. "But I also think you need a break. The guys and I are having a party this Saturday. What do you say? You'd be like the only girl there."

"I...uh," I stuttered, slightly. I glanced up at him. He was expecting me to say yes. Because that's what I would've said, long before all of this. I would've jumped at the chance to party with him, stay out all night, and drink too much.

"Yes," I said begrudgingly.

"Awesome! It'll be fun, you'll have a blast. Just like old times." He was grinning ear to ear. He jumped up and held his hand out. I took it and stood, regretting my decision.

The last thing I want is for this party to be like old times.

*****

I was almost done with the family room. The office is what was taking me so long. The two filing cabinets, which are taller than I am, will just have to go as is.

But I made sure everything else got put into a box and was properly labeled. Then, I took apart the desk and sat its pieces aside. I sorted through all the computer cables and got them taken care of. I slid the last box across the floor and sighed.

Dad will be home soon. I walked upstairs to my room. I hadn't done homework all week. Some of the teachers have given me a grace period to make up for it 'considering my recent loss and current divorce'. I wanted to punch her. But I didn't. I can't afford detention, right now.

I plopped on the bed with my backpack and dug out my assignments. I looked them over, then flipped open my math book. I found the right page and tried to concentrate.

I glanced up and saw the notebook I was writing in earlier, poking out of the bag. Then, my eyes flicked to my pillow, where Taylor's laptop lay in wait.

I sighed. No. I shouldn't. I shouldn't be writing that right now. I have a lot of homework. I went back to my math book, pencil in hand. I began reading the page.

At first, I was reading about fractions...then, it sort of mutated. Before I knew it, I was thinking of the next scene in the book, playing the whole thing out.

I shook my head, snapping myself out of it. Then I sighed, pushing away the math book. I grabbed the laptop and the notebook, setting them in my lap. I set up the laptop and flipped to the right page in the notebook.

I typed up the little I had written at school, then tossed the notebook. My fingers flew to the keyboard, and I couldn't stop myself.

"-about everything that we know," Madoc said. "No more secrets. No more keeping things to yourselves. If we don't want another Aurora, and if someday we'd like to move on with our lives, then we need to do this. We need to know what and how Eden did this to us and how we can reverse it. One of the ways to go about that, without getting shot, is to look into Nova's past. Which, most of us, should already know."

He eyed Jemima when he said that last part. I take it that the conversation didn't go well.

"Who wants to start?" His eyes landed on Pryor. He was clearly still mad from earlier. But he stood and started talking anyway.

"The reason why none of this makes any sense," he started, "is because Nova's supposed to be dead. I can't explain how I know this." He sighed and glanced my way. Then, he looked at Madoc. "Our conversation with Kane jogged a few things. In our generation, you're lucky if you reach thirty-five. But Nova made it to a hundred. How?"

Everyone stayed silent, waiting for him to make his point.

"Jezper. What are the years on all the stuff you're finding out about her?"

Jezper whipped open his computer, typed a few things. "That can't be right."

"What?" Moanna asked.

"They're all..." he looked up at Pryor. "They're all from the twenty-second century."

"But..." Calliope looked around. "We're in the thirty-first."

"Exactly," Pryor said. "That's why our memories are so hard to decipher. We don't even know which century they're from." He took a few steps closer to me. "They took the memories of an old woman they had preserved, for almost a thousand years, and put them in us. Why?"

"Using that logic," Clarabelle said, "Nova's real body is probably dead."

Jemima looked at me with more contempt than I thought possible. "So then who are you?" she said, nodding her head at me.

This is crazy. This is so crazy I don't know what to say.

"You're trying to say, that I'm not in my own body?" I asked.

"No, that you're just like us: a victim in all of this. But, somehow, they managed to convince you that you were the real Nova, the one who had her memories stolen," Pryor explained.

"But, really," Calliope added, "you just had Nova's added to yours."

This can't be true. If I'm not Nova...then who am I?

"No," I said. "No, this is wrong."

"When we were inside Eden last month," Jemima said, "not too long before Paramesh died, when I found out that Aurora was a traitor, she told me that she was always a spy. She said that she was never a part of the program."

"So...?"Jezper thought aloud. I became overwhelmed with my own thoughts. He looked at me,a slight grin on his face. "That makes you number nine."