The scents wafting through the air now include marijuana and something flowery, as if we’re on a tropical island. I close my eyes to it and savor the happy noise surrounding me. Soon I feel Jack’s warm lips on mine and breathe him in.
We sway and glide alongside each other as the sun dips into the horizon. I bask in the warmth and lightness and love. In another life, I could’ve been a hippie, I bet. The night is ours and I never want to leave. I don’t even want to open my eyes.
But a scream jolts me out of my delicious haze.
All heads snap to a huddle of lacy pink on the ground. Rosa.
Fifty cell phones whip out, whether to call for help or take video, I couldn’t say.
Jonathan kneels at her side, yelling, “Rosa, wake up!”
Suddenly, Chloe pulls me to her side and rasps into my ear, “She’ll come to soon. I only blacked out for a few minutes. It’s normal.”
“Normal for what?”
“You know what. And we shouldn’t say anything.”
“Even if we can help?”
“How?” Her voice sharpens. “All we’d do is cause a whole lot of unnecessary freak-out that won’t help anyone.”
Fortunately, there’s a nurse among the beachgoers who tends to Rosa. And before the first siren arrives, Rosa’s stirring. I have to admit Chloe’s right. Nothing here outside of the “normal” symptoms of Charisma.
Normal or not, the medics insist on taking Rosa to the hospital, even after she begs them not to. Before they load her into the ambulance, she calls out to the crowd, “I’ll be mad if you stop the party.”
We wave her off with good wishes, and murmur reassurances to each other. The drums start up again, a hypnotic rumble.
I glance at the time and say to Jack, “We should get going.”
On the drive to Tacoma, our tired silence is only interrupted by a message beep from my phone. It’s from Dr. Sternfield: THE FAINTING IS BECAUSE YOUR BODY IS WORKING IN HYPERDRIVE. THERE’S SO MUCH TO BE EXCITED ABOUT! EAT MORE, DRINK MORE, AND SLEEP MORE. YOUR DREAMS WILL COME TRUE AS LONG AS YOU KEEP CALM AND QUIET.
I breathe a long sigh. “Rosa’s going to be okay. Just too much going on.”
“Sounds familiar.” He taps the steering wheel in the same rhythm as the drums from the beach. “Funny how things changed so quickly for you and me.”
“Way overdue.”
He runs his fingers along my arm. “Tell me about it.”
The heated atmosphere is spiced with anticipation. At home, we say a luscious good-night and promise to get together the next day. Tingling from scalp to toes, I float into the house.
Where Mom perches on the sofa, beady-eyed.
I say, “Did you get my note?”
Her voice is hard. “You were supposed to rest.”
“I did. But I also had plans with Jack. I’ll be fine for work tomorrow.”
She pulls the afghan tighter around her shoulders. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”
Well, to be fair, she doesn’t. I have to remember how bizarre my behavior must seem. “Mom, I’ve never been happier. I hope you’ll be glad for me.”
She sighs. “Of course I want you to be happy. But Sammy had something to be happy about tonight too, that he wanted to celebrate with both of us. He’s been accepted into the AV719 trial.”
“Oh my God, that’s great!” I rush over to hug her. We owe Dr. Sternfield and Nova Genetics so much. Someday I’d tell Mom just how much.
Our spontaneous hug shatters the tension. We can always agree on wanting the best for Sammy.
Mom tucks my hair behind my ear. “Now, go get some sleep.”
I skip upstairs. Really, so much good far outweighs a couple of tiny side effects. Sammy will probably have a few from the AV719. We all simply needed to acclimate.
The following morning, I get a message from someone at the Red Cross, who saw my plea for organ donors and asks if I’ll make a public service announcement to encourage blood donations. I pause, my mind reeling. There’s much more to Charisma than hanging out with Jack. My new abilities could make a meaningful difference.
I pore through requests from marketing organizations, one offering to pay me for every shout-out I do on their behalf, another suggesting I open my page to advertisements, promising that with my “star power” I could earn enough for college in no time. Wow. The chance to cover college would take such a load off of Mom. I’ve done a good, good thing by stepping up for Dr. Sternfield’s treatment.
Amazed by my online opportunities, I check in on The Shane Show. It’s full of photos and clips from last night. Exuberant is the only way to describe how I appear in the videos. A few messages hint that Shane’s program will be picked up by TrueNufTV. The mainstream media does not waste time.
On that note, I head downstairs to congratulate Sammy on getting into the trial. But when I reach the dining room, I stop short. Mom’s at the table with a pained expression. We have to stop meeting like this.
“What now?” I ask.
“You tell me.”
Uh-oh. Keep calm and assess the damage. “What?”
She twists her mug back and forth on the tabletop. “I got a call from Chloe’s mother. Both Rosa and Chloe have fainted in the past week. Did you know that?”
“I heard Chloe was sick, but she got better already.”
“Well, just in case, I’ve contacted Dr. Gordon. He’s arranged a meeting for the teen sibs who attended the event last Sunday so we can get to the bottom of this.”
My gut twinges. Would everyone keep quiet until the side effects went away? “Mom, this is probably nothing.”
“We’re meeting in an hour at Florence Bishop. It’s the closest hospital to Nova Genetics.” Mom and Dr. Gordon, the power duo of efficiency.
I say, “But I have to work. I already missed yesterday. They’ll fire me.”
“I’ve called your boss. Health comes first.”
No arguing with her favorite mantra. I’m finally fit to be a decent lifeguard and I’ll lose my job by being absent so often. Great. Huffing, I fry myself an egg, showing Mom how healthy I feel. Because I am. Except for the anxiety that someone will spill our secret and ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I eat quickly and head upstairs to call Evie with the latest.
She whistles. “So are you going to come clean?”
I whisper even though my bedroom door is shut. “I don’t see any upside to doing that.”
“C’mon, Aiz, even after fainting?”
“I told you there’s an explanation.”
“Then why didn’t Dr. Sucksfield warn you beforehand?”
I huddle into myself and clutch the phone tighter. “Maybe she only realized it after the fact.”
“Sounds sketchy.”
I sigh. “You’re still on my side, though, right?”
Longer pause than necessary. “Of course. It’s just that if I can’t count on you to be the sensible one, we’re both in trouble.” She hangs up.
She counts on me to be sensible. I count on her to give me a boost when I’m freaking out. Guess neither of us is living up to expectations.
Mom and I drop off Sammy at the neighbor’s on the way into downtown Tacoma. He hauls a backpack full of art supplies and comic books, and marches toward their door like a soldier facing battle. I say a silent prayer the neighbor’s sons will include Sammy in their games for a change.
At Florence Bishop, Mom and I are directed to a large room with a private buffet, where Rosa and her parents huddle with crossed arms and sullen faces.
I hurry over and give Rosa a hug. “Everything okay?”
“Much better. Too much go, go, go. Even my ears are buzzing. My body’s on hyperdrive, you know?”
Hyperdrive. So she’s been texting Dr. Sternfield too.
We help ourselves to meatloaf and corn, and sit at a table with Chloe and her dad. I ask Chloe how she’s doing.
She loads her fork with lumpy mashed potatoes. “A little dizzy. No big thing.”
Her dad, a hulking man with graying brown hair, stabs his knife in the air. “No big thing? Kids aren’t supposed to faint. I’ve never fainted in my whole life.” He points the knife toward me and Rosa. “Your parents think it’s no big thing?”
I look at my plate, thankful Mom sat at a different table. “I feel fine now.”
“Me too,” Rosa says, rubbing her ear.
Chloe’s dad shakes his head. “Kids.”
As we eat, I survey the room. Mom huddles with a cluster of other parents, no doubt exchanging data. Shane jokes with the twins, their laughter ringing out every few seconds. Thankfully, the camera crew for The Shane Show isn’t here.
The crowd quiets when Dr. Gordon enters the room along with two women in white coats. One is the tall short-haired doctor who examined me yesterday, the second one much younger with a blond ponytail and horn-rimmed glasses.
Dr. Gordon shakes a few hands and then clears his throat. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice.” He nods to the doctors. “And thank you, Drs. Culdicott and Fisk, for joining us.”
He says, “So far, we know of three teens who’ve had fainting spells since the family gathering. Therefore, we’re hunting down possibilities of a common contaminant. The more we know, the better we can help you.”
Kiera, of the red hair with fiery ends, calls out, “Couldn’t you have texted us?”
Dr. Gordon clasps his hands. “It’s more effective to speak with everyone face-to-face and scan for physical symptoms. It’s also crucial not to panic or spread stories until we know what’s going on.”
Kiera makes a hacking sound. “What are the symptoms exactly?”
Dr. Gordon counts off on his fingers. “Headaches, mild fevers, and fainting for short periods. We’ve also heard reports of personality changes.”
A boy with apple cheeks shouts, “Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” He wags his head back and forth, eyes goggling.
Wrinkles crease Dr. Gordon’s fleshy forehead. “Nothing so sinister. It’s been described as people acting in a more extroverted manner than normally.”
“Like Chloe!” one of the twins shouts.
Chloe beams. “Check out the KBLB site tonight.” I still can’t understand why she’d accept Charisma, but at least her feistiness gives me confidence.
My mom’s voice cuts through the din. “Do the symptoms you’ve seen have anything in common with the illness of your staff member Steffie Wong?”
Everyone in the room goes stock-still. Why is Mom freaking everyone out? We’ve only been fainting, not dying.
Dr. Gordon raises his arms to calm us. “We deeply mourn the loss of Steffie. But there’s nothing to indicate any connection.”
Nods and murmurs ripple through the crowd. Then a few more questions that don’t tread new ground. Time to get to business. Dr. Gordon and the other doctors each call out a name and three kids march to the front for an interrogation.
Chloe nudges Rosa and me. “We’ll all be smart about this, right?”
Rosa and I say, “Of course.”
“Good. Then let’s go hang with the others.” We pull up chairs to the table with the most teens.
Shane levels a hard gaze at me.
I brush a lock of hair from my face. “What?”
He leans back and crosses his arms. “Just enjoying the personality change from the girl formerly known as ice princess.”
I cross my own arms. “Why does the guy-currently-known-as-a-gigolo care?”
He licks his lips and smiles. “So, how many times have you fainted?”
Rosa puts a hand on my arm. “We should save the medical talk for the doctors.”
I squint at Shane. “What about you? Any fevers?”
“I always run pretty hot.”
I roll my eyes.
Soon the doctors call up the next three teens, which include Chloe and one of the twins. They head off as if this is so much silliness to be endured.
Kiera sighs. “Complete waste of time. Just because a few kids got sick.”
Ten minutes later, the doctors dismiss the second group and call me, Rosa, and the other twin. Hey, maybe I’ll get out of here soon after all. And see Jack tonight.
Rosa takes my arm and whispers, “Don’t worry. We’re okay. I’ve never felt more alive, more connected. I really see everyone more clearly, how they feel, what excites them. It’s amazing. I want to feel this way always. Don’t you?”
Of course I do. Which means our secret is still safe.
I sit next to Dr. Culdicott. She asks me to retrace my steps at Nova Genetics last weekend. I do without mentioning the Charisma.
When I reach the part about visiting a chimp, the doctor raises her eyebrows. “You didn’t mention this in your initial exam.”
“I didn’t?” I peek at Rosa, who speaks to Dr. Gordon using exaggerated hand movements. Sweat stains bloom under her arms despite the air-conditioning, and her body seems to sway precariously on the chair.
My attention is so focused on Rosa, I miss Dr. Culdicott’s question. “Excuse me?”
“I asked whether you touched the chimps at all.”
“Uh, yeah, I shook Ruby’s hand.”
“And then you went to lunch? Did you wash your hands first?”
I feel like a naughty preschooler. “Uh, no.”
“Aha.” She types as if she’s uncovered the Dead Sea scrolls.
My attention is drawn to Rosa, who holds her hands over her ears. Glancing around, I notice everyone in the room is fixated on her too. Uh-oh.
She slumps against Dr. Gordon, moaning. Dr. Culdicott rushes over to them, and has Rosa settle to the floor. The younger doctor with the glasses calls for assistance.
And the room falls silent.
Rosa weakly waves the doctors away. “I’m okay,” she says in a raspy voice, before going silent.
I hold my breath as pressure builds in my head. Get up, Rosa, get up.
Everyone’s face twitches with anxiety, yet curiosity too, and even excitement. A gangly orderly with an orange beard shouts for us to make way so he can get through with a gurney. The crowd parts, their interest and apprehension becoming more palpable when Rosa’s body goes limp in Dr. Culdicott’s arms. The doctor and the orderly lift her onto the gurney and roll it out, followed by Dr. Fisk.
The silent vacuum in their wake only lasts a few moments. Xavier, Dr. Sternfield’s intern, rushes into the room, knocking over a chair. Wait a minute. He wasn’t at the family event. He doesn’t need to be here.
Although I’ve rarely heard him use anything but a soft-spoken voice at Nova Genetics, his words now come out like a newscaster’s.
“Enough,” he says, “I know what’s making people sick.”
Everyone in the room turns his way. I inch toward the door.
Chloe’s dad slams the table. “Well, tell us.”
One mom, whose face has gone splotchy, tugs at Xavier’s sleeve. “Before any more kids pass out.” The other parents snarl and sputter as they tighten around Xavier.
Xavier pulls back his shoulders. “I think the kids who’ve been fainting were given a gene therapy.”
There. The volcanic ash of the truth settles over the crowd.
Dr. Gordon’s mouth drops along with everyone else’s. Then he wags a finger at Xavier. “Now, wait a minute, wait a minute.”
But no one’s waiting for anything. Chloe’s dad yells, “A gene therapy? What in Hades for?”
Chloe’s next to me, cursing. The mass of bodies around us heats the room to stifling. Yet I can’t force these locked knees to move, and that old familiar drowning sensation squeezes my lungs.
>
Xavier clears his throat. “To be more outgoing, less inhibited.”
The room erupts again. Dr. Gordon, who wobbles amid crazed parents, shouts, “Please, calm down. I assure you Nova Genetics isn’t in the business of administering rogue gene therapy, and certainly not for inhibitions, despite what this young man asserts.” He turns to Xavier. “You should be ashamed of yourself for needlessly upsetting everyone.”
Xavier doesn’t flinch. “You have a better explanation? Tainted geoducks, maybe?”
Dr. Gordon’s face is scarlet. “The rest of you please hold on until I set this young man straight.” He ushers Xavier out a side door.
The room falls silent as everyone digests what’s going on, and then explodes with exclamations of disbelief. Chloe’s dad grabs her by the shoulders. “You what?” he screams in her face. That’s when I catch sight of Mom storming toward me, her gaze ready to ignite. I huddle behind a chair, as if that’ll do any good.
Her face radiates fear and rage, to an extent I’ve never seen. “Did you know anything about this?” She grasps my arm. “No more lies. This is dangerous.”
I put up my hands in surrender. “Can we talk later?”
The side door opens and Dr. Gordon pops his head into our room. “Chloe and Aislyn, I want you out here too.”
Kiera whines, “Why didn’t I get any gene therapy? No fair.”
With everyone glaring daggers, Mom drags me out the door, which leads to a hallway. Chloe and her parents tumble after us.
Dr. Gordon shoots Xavier a pointed look. “Tell them what you told me.”
Xavier says, “Three weeks ago, a researcher offered me an experimental gene therapy called Charisma, or CZ88. She wouldn’t show me the exact combination of genes it targeted, but I trusted her work enough to say yes. The next day I felt really powerful, not afraid to ask my parents if I could enroll in an art class, which they think is a waste of time for a pre-med student. And I wasn’t as hesitant about speaking with people who came in for gene sequencing.”
He swallows, and the shine in his eyes dulls. “But then I started getting headaches and feeling dizzy. I fainted a week ago, and again last night.”