“It was my mother, she said…‘The Book. Get The Book’.”
“What does that mean?” Clark asks, as confused as me.
“I don’t know, but I have to go. I have to ask someone that might know.” I pull on the jeans and look for a spare pair of sneakers in his closet while Clark pulls on sweatpants and half hops to the bedroom door. Joan comes diving into the room as the door slides open and she dodges past Clark’s feet and runs to me. I like to think she remembers me, but she’s probably just curious. I reach down and pick her up, nuzzling her in the crook of my neck. She swats my nose.
Clark comes back in the room and turns on the television. On the news is the report of my diner rescue. He points to the television with the remote still in his hand.
“This is you, isn’t it?” he asks, sitting next to me on the bed. “They’ve been running it over and over.”
“Yes,” I say, trying to own it, to be unwavering.
“I’m really proud of you,” he says, pulling his eyes from the flickering screen and looking into mine.
“Thanks,” I say back, smiling hugely. It feels nice to be recognized and supported, for him to be proud of me for something I’m made to do, as opposed to all the things I’ve tried to make myself be good at.
“Are you sure you can’t do this and also stay with me?” he asks genuinely. The idea is so tempting I can taste the edges of it in the corners of my mouth.
“It’s not so simple. There’s this girl,” I begin.
“Yes?” he prompts.
“Well, she’s like me. But she’s all bad where I’m good, and she just, well, nothing gets in her way and she would come through you like tissue paper if she knew what you mean to me. She,” my voice breaks. “She killed my very good friend right in front of me. So she can’t know. And the only way to be sure she doesn’t know is for me to not have you at all.”
“Where is she? How will she know?” He wants the answers to be different, and so do I.
“I don’t know where she is,” I say, and Clark starts to protest but I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter where she is, she can be here so fast, you can’t believe it. When I fought her before, she realized she could slow me down by hurting civilians and so she just started grabbing people from a bus and throwing them into the air like they were balls to be juggled. And I didn’t even know those people. Imagine what she might do to someone I love. I don’t have to imagine it, I’ve already seen it,” I say, remembering Bryce’s beautiful face still in my hands. I pet Joan and Clark is silent for a moment.
“People on a bus?” he says to the room more than me. “That thing, a week ago, uptown, that was you and her?”
“Yes. She killed me. Drowned me actually, in the Hudson. I woke up later on the riverbank. I’d lost most of my memory. I didn’t remember about her, I didn’t remember anything, but when I used my powers it all came back,” I say. Clark nods again. There’s another long pause between us. We’re pausing a lot. It’s hard to find safe things to say to one another.
“So, what will you do? You’ll just spend your whole life not having anyone you love so that this girl won’t hurt them?” he asks. I shrug hopelessly.
“Maybe. I have to think of what to do about her. I doubt she’ll leave me alone, maybe she’ll kill me again. I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m going to find my brother, he’s my best hope of finding whatever this book is,” I say, realizing how lame it sounds as I say it. Clark is quiet for long minutes before he speaks again.
“Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, maybe there’s still a chance for us.” I don’t correct him, but I should. He shouldn’t spend his life waiting, hoping, for me to come back. But I’m selfish just like anyone and the idea that he might wait for me is like some kind of perfect treasure that I can lock away inside. It’s too precious not to cling to, and so I don’t say anything. I just kiss him and we lay together with Joan playing over us and under us and in between us until I can’t bear it and know I’ll never leave if I don’t go right now. I get up and finish dressing. In the living room I notice that there are newspapers and sheets of printed-paper strewn all over the room, articles and printouts pinned up on the walls. It looks a bit like a crazy person lives here. There’s also no trace of Jake or Ryan, I wonder briefly if they left because Clark seems like he went nuts, or because Clark wanted to be alone the same way that I did. I walk over and look at some of the articles and headlines. They’re all about me, some of them are highlighted and circled, and little notes are scratched on the side.