The Extraordinaries

Chapter Two: Annie

Chapter Two: Annie

My mouth drops open.

Elise's eyes are bright with excitement, the way they always were when we were getting ready to perform. She's waiting for something brilliant to occur, and she knows it's going to be wonderful.

But it's not. Looking for Keaton isn't exciting, because it's not going to happen. When someone disappears, they can't just be found again. It's not that simple.

I've been thinking about Keaton a lot lately, though. I don't remember her that well, at least not as well as I should. I was fifteen when she left, vanishing in the night as if she was never there. No one spoke of it, not out loud, though there were whispers down the line of beds after lights out, wonders of where Keaton could have gone, what would make anyone want to leave the Hawthorne.

Keaton had always been different. She was a few years older than I was, but it took her much longer to come to the studio. She always kept to herself, like she was hesitant to admit that, deep down, she was just like the rest of us. I can picture her on the edge of the group as we practiced, straggling behind in our dance. Aideen used to snap at her: not because she wasn't good, but because she wasn't trying.

Elise grins. "Annie?"

I try to speak but I don't know what to say. Keaton has been almost like a private piece of me, something I think about when the lights go out, wondering where she is and what she's doing. If she's any happier than she was before or if she regrets it. It was more of a fantasy, something I daydreamed about. It was never meant to be said aloud.

I try to make myself look at Elise, even though it scares me. She's still the little girl she's always been, even with what I know about her now. She stills chews her hair when she gets nervous, still has teeth too big for her face that make her look younger than seventeen.

I wonder if she can tell what I'm thinking from my energy, if she can sense the devastating fear that rolls off my skin like sweat. The panic ramping itself up in my chest.

When I don't say anything, her face falls, and she steps closer to me. I have to tighten all my muscles to keep from running off. I don't know how I'm going to survive this, living every day with no one but a girl who terrifies me, a girl with the power to do anything.

If we find Keaton, we'll all have power.

When she reaches my side, she peers at me with nervous eyes. "Annie?" she says again, this time meekly, as if she's afraid of me.

I don't know what to say. If I say no, I'll be letting my guard down. She'll see past the angry exterior, if she can't already.

So I say, "Fine. Let's do it. Let's find Keaton."

Her smile returns, splitting wide across her face. "Great," she says.

We start walking again, still silent, and I pull my arms around myself to block out the cold. I'm still not used to my clothes: denim pants that tighten even my slim legs, an oversized grey sweater that hangs on me. I miss my old clothes, the ones that burnt in the fire: black practice leotards, snow white nightgowns, beautiful performances dresses in the most vibrant of colors. At the stores in town, all they have are bland, shapeless clothes, the ones the ordinary people wear.

"Are we just not going to speak?" Elise asks, and I can hear the desperation in her tone.

I don't know what to say to her. Maybe she really thinks everything is going to stay the same. Maybe she really thinks we can keep this up.

"What do you want me to say?" I whisper.

She lets out this little choking sound- it's only then that I know Elise is crying. I wonder if she's been crying this whole time, if it came from passing where the Hawthorne. If when she made that comment, You don't have have to cry, she herself was crying just as hard as I was.