around me, moving like someone who always got what he wanted. And it only took me a second to give in. Afterwards I wrapped my arms around him and cried for Dani, for four years of my life, lost, and because I didn’t know what else to do.
Call me crazy, but yes, a mere kiss was enough to convince me to go back to the lab with Zach. He said he wanted to show me something important, and at that point, I’d decided that I was in. Besides, I couldn’t stop looking at him, and I really wanted to kiss him again. He was like every cheesy leading man in every sappy teenage romance all rolled up into one tall, brooding-eyed stranger who could steal me away with his blue eyes. And, on top of everything, he loved me. I don’t know how or why, but to him, I wasn’t the willowy girl who was too tall, the girl who didn’t fit into any group. No, I wasn’t one of the Beautiful People. I wasn’t into sports. I wasn’t even that smart, if my grades were any indication. I was just one complicated person with a lot of silly problems, a girl who’d lost her best friend and found another one, in Zach Webb.
Once inside the lab, Zach combed one finger through a piece of my hair. “You’re beautiful. Better than all the rest.” Then he kissed me for the second time, and it was just as spectacular as the first.
“C’mon, I have a lot I want to show you,” he said.
He sat down at a small computer screen that looked dirty and outdated, pushed some buttons, and pulled up an interface called Project Zero. Then for some reason, the words Soliloquy 18 popped into my head .
“Wait,” I said.
Soliloquy 18.
“Soliloquy 18?”
“Yep. That’s the password,” Zach said.
The keyboard clicked as Zach typed in a bunch of things, and then a screen popped up with a document. “You were in a coma for four years,” he said. “There was an immense electrical storm at Fuller Park on May 11, 2008. It was your 13 th birthday.”
Zach got a funny look on his face like he wanted to tell me something else, but he was afraid to. How bad could it be? I wondered. Unless he told me we were really Siamese twins that were separated shortly after birth, I was prepared for pretty much anything. He just stared at me and raked his fingers through his hair, which messed it up, leaving pieces going in all different directions.
He leaned away from the computer, revealing the following screen: He wheeled his chair aside. “Just… read it,” he said.
--Log June 18, 2008
Data collection on subject Soliloquy 18 begins. Subject: 13 year old female suffered a lightning strike, resulting in a comatose state. Subject is housed at Ellerman Regional Medical Center. Permission given by father of victim, one Walter Turner.
“You expect me to believe this.”
Zach shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“There’s only one problem with this data ,” I said, with air quotes.
Zach looked at me with a furrowed brow, a stoic expression that made him look much older than 17. “What?”
“I was never struck by lightning,” I replied.
He frowned, slightly, as he’d just taken a bite of something and wasn’t sure, yet, if he liked it. “Yes, but you were present when these electrical storms were at their peak. You were still a viable subject.”
“ Viable Subject ? What the heck? In some scientific experiment?” I huffed. “You mean I was some lab
Call me crazy, but yes, a mere kiss was enough to convince me to go back to the lab with Zach. He said he wanted to show me something important, and at that point, I’d decided that I was in. Besides, I couldn’t stop looking at him, and I really wanted to kiss him again. He was like every cheesy leading man in every sappy teenage romance all rolled up into one tall, brooding-eyed stranger who could steal me away with his blue eyes. And, on top of everything, he loved me. I don’t know how or why, but to him, I wasn’t the willowy girl who was too tall, the girl who didn’t fit into any group. No, I wasn’t one of the Beautiful People. I wasn’t into sports. I wasn’t even that smart, if my grades were any indication. I was just one complicated person with a lot of silly problems, a girl who’d lost her best friend and found another one, in Zach Webb.
Once inside the lab, Zach combed one finger through a piece of my hair. “You’re beautiful. Better than all the rest.” Then he kissed me for the second time, and it was just as spectacular as the first.
“C’mon, I have a lot I want to show you,” he said.
He sat down at a small computer screen that looked dirty and outdated, pushed some buttons, and pulled up an interface called Project Zero. Then for some reason, the words Soliloquy 18 popped into my head .
“Wait,” I said.
Soliloquy 18.
“Soliloquy 18?”
“Yep. That’s the password,” Zach said.
The keyboard clicked as Zach typed in a bunch of things, and then a screen popped up with a document. “You were in a coma for four years,” he said. “There was an immense electrical storm at Fuller Park on May 11, 2008. It was your 13 th birthday.”
Zach got a funny look on his face like he wanted to tell me something else, but he was afraid to. How bad could it be? I wondered. Unless he told me we were really Siamese twins that were separated shortly after birth, I was prepared for pretty much anything. He just stared at me and raked his fingers through his hair, which messed it up, leaving pieces going in all different directions.
He leaned away from the computer, revealing the following screen: He wheeled his chair aside. “Just… read it,” he said.
--Log June 18, 2008
Data collection on subject Soliloquy 18 begins. Subject: 13 year old female suffered a lightning strike, resulting in a comatose state. Subject is housed at Ellerman Regional Medical Center. Permission given by father of victim, one Walter Turner.
“You expect me to believe this.”
Zach shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“There’s only one problem with this data ,” I said, with air quotes.
Zach looked at me with a furrowed brow, a stoic expression that made him look much older than 17. “What?”
“I was never struck by lightning,” I replied.
He frowned, slightly, as he’d just taken a bite of something and wasn’t sure, yet, if he liked it. “Yes, but you were present when these electrical storms were at their peak. You were still a viable subject.”
“ Viable Subject ? What the heck? In some scientific experiment?” I huffed. “You mean I was some lab
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