Within These Walls

Chapter 22

The people in the cafeteria don't realize something is off as I walk over to Marcus's table. Most keep watching the news as more parents give speeches, oblivious to the fact that Carson's world has just collapsed and he's now sitting at our table, numbed to Willow's attempts to comfort him, questioning everything his parents ever told him.

They might have more in common with him than they think.

Marcus's attention is on Janie. When she sees me, she tosses back her thick hair and says something to him. He nods, blank-faced, and the two head off in the direction of the gym, but not before Janie shoots back a triumphant look.

I scowl after her. I don't know what she has to be so smug about. She's using her mesmerism power to coerce him somehow. But if he had a choice, would he turn her down? I doubt it. He practically kicked me out of the bathroom this morning the second she showed up.

Don't get caught up worrying about nonsense.

I go over to Alec. He's sitting on the table, his feet propped on a chair as he watches the news feed on the nearest TV screen. He's the one we need. Someone the others look up to, but won't screw us over like Marcus might. "Do you have a moment?" I ask him.

He glances at me and smiles. "For you? Always."

As we leave behind a glaring Camille, I fill him in on Carson's situation. "We're hoping you'll help us find out how many others are in foster care or group homes. For the record, Willow and Marcus both live without their birth parents, too."

"You think there are other kids that are adopted but don't know it?" he asks.

I nod. I'm not sure how I'd feel if I was one of them. Sam isn't my father, which has always made it easy to explain away the lack of affection. He's not my parent and therefore not obligated to love me. My mother, on the other hand—I grew up believing something was wrong with me because she was incapable of loving me. I tried to change that. Kept my room spotless, did my dishes instead of leaving them in the sink, left my perfect report cards lying around and held my breath for the day she'd look at me and say, "I'm proud of you, April."

Instead it was like living with a stranger. The day that Sam came into my life was the day she stopped bothering with the pretense of being any kind of a mother.

". . . Abducted by aliens when we were born," Alec says.

"What?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Just making sure you're still with me. So how do we do this?"

"You decide." I smile. "Provided you don't use intimidation like Marcus."

"You have nothing to worry about, pretty lady. I'm a lover, not a fighter."

With an exaggerated wink, he slips past me and strolls over to the middle of the cafeteria. I hear him mumble apologies to kids sitting at a table as he climbs it and turns to survey the room. "Ladies and gents, may I have your attention, please? Those of you preoccupied with the news, I know you miss your families but come closer for a little while. This is important."

He pauses while they comply and then gives a satisfactory nod. "Alright. This is going to sound strange, but bear with me. By show of hands, how many of you know you're adopted? And don't raise your hand if you think you're adopted because you're the black sheep in your family. We want concrete answers."

About half of the hands go up.

"What's this about?" someone calls out.

Alec gestures toward me. "You'll have to ask April. She's the one in charge."

Everyone turns to me, expecting me to speak. I shift my weight to my left foot and cross my arms, then uncross them. Relax. These people aren't expecting entertainment. They're not here to judge me and rate my performance. They're scared and desperate for answers.

Well, not all of them are. Some of them trouble me, like that Weasel kid. He has just the slightest sneer on his lips. And then there's Eli next to him. Weasel hasn't stirred up trouble with his emotion manipulation ability. Maybe Eli has been keeping him in check. But they've been spending a lot of time together and neither of them seem like the harmless-male-bonding type.

"I don't know what it means," I begin, looking from one tense face to the next. "But I don't believe in—"

"Speak up, sweetie!" someone from the back shouts. Several people laugh.

Alec bends down to whisper, "Ignore them."

"I don't believe in coincidences this big," I shout, fighting the tremor of embarrassment creeping into my voice. "The Takers picked us for a reason. They did something to make us have seizures. They've known us since we were young. They—"

I cut off as a thought hits me. What if they didn't just know us—what if they were in control of our upbringing? What if they chose our guardians, too?

Someone lets out a whimper in the silence. My eyes find the scared guy from before. He presses his knuckles to his mouth, muffling whatever else is threatening to erupt out of him. This is probably the last thing he wants to hear. I'm done anyway. I need to think.

"Thanks," I say to Alec and head back to my table.

He follows. "What's up? You have a weird look on your face right now."

"I'll tell you in a second," I say and hurry over to Willow and Carson. I'm already talking as I fall into my chair. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but what if the Takers were involved in our lives from birth? Like, maybe they're the reason so many of us are adopted."

Carson watches me with glassy eyes. I get the sense he's far away from this place. I focus on Willow and see her trade a look with Alec, her fine eyebrows raised.

"That . . . would be hard to imagine," she says.

Carson laughs. "You think everything else that's happened so far has been predictable? I'd reckon it's the only thing that makes sense. We've been their guinea pigs all along and our parents probably knew about it."

"Carson—" Willow starts, but he's not hearing any of it. He gets up from the table and stomps off.

I go after him. I don't know what to say to him, but he shouldn't be alone right now. Alone with self-blame and bitterness, emotions I'm too familiar with. I follow him down the gleaming white hallway and around the bend, hurrying my pace to reach him. But I stumble to a stop as I pass the gymnasium doorway and spot what's going on inside it.

Marcus is sitting on one of bench presses. Janie is straddling his lap, draped over him like second skin. She tosses back her head and lets out laughter that rings all around me. And then she kisses him. I can't see their faces from this angle, but I have no doubt they're lip-locked.

My hands fisted, I look down the hallway, but Carson has already disappeared into the shower room. I should go after him. I should. But that would mean leaving Marcus in her hands, and every fiber of my being hates the idea.

If he wants to be involved with her after he regains his senses, then good for him. Or stupid of him. Either way, it'd be none of my business. I just want him to be able to make the choice, not have it made for him.

Even Marcus deserves that much.