The Extraordinaries

Chapter Six: Annie

The afternoon is painful. I wish I had my own bedroom to run off to so that I wouldn't have to look at her sad little face the whole time as we walked home, put away the food, and brought the basket back. I consider telling her I'll go alone, except that I'm a little afraid after what happened this morning. If I got into trouble, it's possible I wouldn't be able to save myself the way I would have once.

We really need Keaton. Having a Singer will strengthen us all-around, keep things like this from happening. Keep us safe from all the ordinaries who don't understand what we are.

By dusk, I can't handle it anymore. There's a sudden tension between us that, somehow, I can actually feel along my skin, burning the hairs that line my arms. Elise stands by the window, her hands folded on the sill, watching over the street below. There's not a lot to look at, just a beat-up old car that belongs to the Flanagans, the young couple who live in the flat beneath ours. Elise's hair is knotted, the color of coal, and she's bent over as if there's weight on her back. I don't realize I'm staring at her until she turns around and her eyes flicker to life at the sight of me. I watch her draw in a breath, as if wondered by the sight of me, and it's like a sharp blow to the stomach.

Is that any different from how most people react when they're confronted with a Dancer? I can't say. I turn away instantly, running a hand through my hair, which only makes me cringe inside as I wonder what Elise sees when she looks at me. Is my hair, the unused cells produced by my body, a beautiful sight to her?

"Are we ever going to make that plan?" Elise asks softly, and I turn around, wincing again at the sight of her. Her eyes are so wide; I wonder if they might pop out. The other girls used to call her Curious Ellie because of her nature of getting worked up about little things, for constantly asking questions about every routine even after the rest of us had gone off to shower.

I put my hands on my hips, raising myself to my full height. Somehow, my attempt to get a little power actually works, and Elise steps back, looking me up and down. "What plan?" I say, more sharply than I mean to.

Elise looks away, out the window. Overhead, the sun is almost gone, making way for an endless midnight. It makes my stomach hurt, that same sky I used to watch with the Hawthorne girls. After dinner, we would sometimes slip outside and stare up at the sky, counting stars. We used to pretend it was just us, that the ordinaries didn't exist. That the Hawthorne girls were just spinning through space, accompanied only by a smattering of little white lights. It was a beautiful concept.

"To find Keaton." Her voice is meeker now. "You told me we'd do that this afternoon."

A sudden rush of rage fills me, the kind that makes you stomp your foot and say things you know you'll regret. I don't understand Elise, not at all. It's like she's forgotten anything ever happened between us. It's like we're still Annie and Elise, partners in crime.

I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend we're still making it through together, because now we are each other's problems.

"Elise, I'm not your mother," I snap.

She stares at me, and I back away, knowing what she must be doing: taking in my energy, reading the thoughts that haven't made their way to my brain yet. "I know that," she says softly, and a crooked smile crosses her face. "That would make last night pretty weird, wouldn't it?"

As soon as it's out of her mouth, I know she regrets it, and that's the only reason I don't scream at her. She looks shocked at her own words, at how pathetic the joke really is. If it weren't for the slack of her jaw and the crease in her forehead, I would slap her right in the mouth. Instead, though, I leave the room, making a beeline for the bedroom and closing the door lightly behind me.