“You really think it’s that dangerous?”
“I know it is.”
“And you’re worried about me?” she says with a hint of a smile.
“What do you think? Of course!”
“That’s really sweet.”
She stares into my eyes then and I really don’t know what to say.
“‘Sweet’ … come on, now,” I say with a nervous grin. “No guy wants to be ‘sweet.’”
She steps a little closer. “Okay. You’re not ‘sweet.’”
“Good.”
She takes another step. I can smell her perfume; it’s like flowers after rain.
“I stopped thinking of you as ‘sweet’ back in Mexico.”
My mouth goes dry. “Uh-huh …”
She takes both my hands in hers. “Yeah. And look … you’re taller than me now.”
“A bit. It’s only ’cause, well, you’re really …”
“Petite?”
“Yeah.”
What are we doing? She can’t be thinking what I’m thinking …
But she keeps going. “Think you’ll get taller?”
“Hope so.”
She shrugs, smiles. “A little taller couldn’t hurt.”
We’re standing inches apart; she’s holding my hands, breathing right against my mouth, and I somehow can’t make myself move.
She’s two years older than you, idiot! Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. One false move and it’ll be a slap in the face for you.
And right then, she leans closer and kisses me. Right on the lips. I keep thinking she’s going to stop but she doesn’t and she doesn’t push me away. Eventually it’s me who pulls away … because I have no clue what to do next.
I hunt for something to say, which is tricky because I can hardly breathe.
She smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I cough nervously. “No … no … it was like … wow!”
She leans a wrist on my shoulder and actually runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re not weirded out that I’m older than you?”
I laugh. “Are you kidding … ?” And emphatically add, “No way!”
“So you’d go out with me … ?”
“Ollie, of course I would!”
“How about right now—how about a movie and then ice cream at G&D’s?”
I could burble stuff about her making my dreams come true, but thankfully I don’t.
8
My first date with Ollie and I can’t even blog it. Mind you, the idea of anyone reading what I’d write about that is just too embarrassing.
Well, in fact, it’s a false start. Ollie gets a text while we’re in the line for the movie and she has to go home. Seems that she’s forgotten that she has a big schoolwork deadline the next day. So I trudge home, a bit deflated.
How can she think of schoolwork at a time like this?
On Monday before I leave for school, I manage to remember to grab the document folder with the copied pages from Ix Codex—no way can I leave it around the house while I’m out. I stuff it into my backpack and carry it around all day. I don’t take it out of my backpack until I’m on the bus home that afternoon.
Seeing Madison again was a shock. Oxford used to feel so cozy and safe, especially compared to Mexico. But now that I know Madison’s back in the UK, it makes me wonder. Oxford, Beirut, Mexico—Madison sure gets around. Is he based here, though? When Madison burglarized our house last year, stole our computers and that book by John Lloyd Stephens, I assumed he was a secret agent working for the CIA or something. Back then I’d never even heard of the National Reconnaissance Office.
But when I was actually interrogated by the secret agents who were on the case—agents from the NRO—they told me that Madison wasn’t with them.
In fact, they were pretty sure he was on more than one Most Wanted list.
And anyway, the NRO were already on my case—ever since they captured and murdered my dad, they must have been monitoring my e-mails and Web searches. The NRO have been after the mysteries of Ek Naab ever since they found my grandfather’s crashed Muwan, back in the 1960s.
So if Madison didn’t tell the NRO about my involvement with the Ix Codex, who does he work for?
Or could I be wrong?
Could it all be a big ruse—Madison being a suspected terrorist wanted by the FBI and CIA? What if he’s actually one of their own, but working undercover? An undercover double agent, like Krycek from The X-Files.
Maybe only Madison knows who he really works for.
I turn these thoughts over and over, wondering. Who is Simon Madison? Why did he steal that book by John Lloyd Stephens? Is it possible after all that he did kill my father?