Thumped by Megan McCafferty Page B

and helping me step up and out of the tub. I know I’m still carrying an extra forty pounds, but I feel lighter than air. It’s not just Jondoe’s presence and attention, either. I can’t stop touching my neck, my ears, my collarbone; it’s like I’ve never seen these parts of myself before. I’m totally exposed, and yet at the same time, I feel safely hidden behind a new identity. Will anyone even recognize me like this if I don’t even recognize myself?
    I’m stroking my wispy sideburns with my fingertips when he comes up on me from behind and bends down to whisper in my ear.
    “Let me sleep beside you tonight.”
    Each word is like a caress to the most tender skin on the back of my neck.
    I shiver, wanting the impossible. Wanting more .
    He knows this too. After his many years in the business of making—and faking—love, it would be impossible for him not to.
    “Chastely!” he adds hastily.
    It’s not supposed to be funny, but it is.
    “Ha!” I point to my swollen midsection. “As if there’s a choice in the matter!”
    There’s a moment’s pause.
    Then Jondoe and I share a long laugh that is simultaneously the most natural and most miraculous sound I’ve ever heard.

THIRD
     
     
“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
    —Matthew 6:21

harmony
     
     
    “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
    This time the screeching isn’t coming from the kettle. It’s me.
    Jondoe flails around from his spot on the floor next to the bed.
    “WHAT DID I TELL YOU? NO ALARMS! EVER!”
    “Why . . . are . . . you . . . yelling . . . at . . . me?” I ask, taking a breath in between each word.
    Jondoe turns and stares at me like he’s startled to be here.
    “Oh, Harmony, I’m sorry,” Jondoe says. “I thought you were Moxie.”
    “Who . . . is . . . Moxie?”
    “My personal assistant.” He groans, then vigorously rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “I thought she set an alarm. And I have told her time and again that there are to be no interruptions of my circadian sleep cycle because it can be really bad for reproductive circulation. My biorhythmist recommends that I wake up naturally every day because it increases blood flow to, you know, my most vital extremity. . . .”
    The twins settle down, the pain fades away, and I sink back into the pillows.
    “So was that you ? Screaming? ”
    I nod weakly. It felt like the twins were trying to escape through my belly button, but I don’t want him to know that.
    “I’m fine now.”
    Jondoe’s eyes bulge. He extends his arms in front of him and pantomimes my belly.
    “Did you double in size last night?”
    It sure looks that way, as if the twins are jockeying for lead position.
    “You think . . .” He points wordlessly at my stomach.
    He’s thinking what I’m thinking. But I’m not ready to say it out loud.
    Jondoe leaps to his feet and claps his hands together.
    “I can do this!” he announces. “You’ll see, Harmony! I won’t disappoint you!”
    And before I can ask what he’s doing, he’s already run out of the room, leaving me alone and in fear of the next shockwave of contractions.

melody
     
     
    BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEP!
    At first I think it’s MOM. But then I remember: Zen deactivated my alarm.
    But I don’t have time to think about him because the beeping isn’t coming from my own wrist, it’s coming from my driveway. It’s the Bumpmobile! Ready to take me to school! I’ve overslept! And I’ve got a biochem exam today!
    My friends make fun of me for studying so hard when I’ve made enough money to afford the luxury of never having to bust another brain cell. But I actually like learning stuff. I mean, how cool would it be if I discovered a cure for the Virus? Or if not a cure, how about the invention of an artificial method that actually works? Billion Dollar Hottie Saves the Human Race. How’s that for a narrative arc?
    Okay. And maybe I also need to go to school to fix the mess that I made last