Inheritance

CHAPTER 7

On Wednesday Reese’s new phone rang as she was pulling on her jacket.

“Oh my God, that is so loud,” Julian said.

“I just got it. I haven’t fixed it yet,” Reese said, tugging it out of her pocket. It was her third phone in two months. She had lost the first during the car accident on Area 51, the second at Blue Base. Her dad had given her this one before he dropped her off at Julian’s house that morning. The only people who had her number were her parents, Julian, and David. She answered the phone. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” David said.

“Who is it?” Julian asked. “We’re going to be late.” They had arranged for their friend Madison to pick them up to go shopping.

“It’s David,” she said to Julian. “What’s up?” she said into the phone.

Julian rolled his eyes and sat down in his desk chair.

“Did you decide whether you want to go to Angel Island tomorrow or not?” David asked. “My parents have been asking, and I think I want to go.”

“Oh.” She was still uncertain. She wanted the information as much as David did, but the idea of seeing Amber made her nervous. “I can’t really talk right now,” she said instead of answering his question.

“Why? What’s going on?” He sounded concerned.

“Nothing. I’m going shopping,” she said without thinking. Crap. She hadn’t meant to tell him. She wanted to find something to wear for their date on Friday night, but she didn’t want him to know. She worried it made her look as if she was trying too hard.

“For what?”

“For a—a thing. Julian’s waiting for me. Let me call you in a couple hours, okay? We can talk then.”

“All right.”

When she hung up the phone Julian said, “Boyfriend keeping you on a short leash?”

She gave him a pointed look. “You did not just say that.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Let’s go. Madison’ll be mad if she gets there and we’re late.”

On Monday night, after the Sophia Curtis interview, Reese had stood in front of her closet and stared morosely at her clothes, trying to figure out what she could wear to the party. She kept thinking about the people who would be there—David’s friends, probably his ex-girlfriend—and how inadequate her wardrobe was. She couldn’t show up at Eric Chung’s house wearing jeans and a stupid T-shirt. She had called Julian.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to help,” he told her.

“What do you mean? You always help me find stuff to wear.”

“I find weird T-shirts. You’re going on a date. With a guy. I think you need girl help.” He sounded a little annoyed, but she didn’t think to ask why.

“You won’t go shopping with me?” she said, feeling panicked.

“I didn’t say that,” Julian said, giving in. “Why don’t you call Mad?”

Reese went shopping with their friend Madison Pon all the time, but rarely for clothes for herself. “Yeah, I guess that could work.”

Madison was more than happy to help—especially once Reese revealed the reason behind her request. She then had to explain, in detail, how she and David had gotten together, although she omitted everything about Amber. Reese told herself that Amber had nothing to do with this, and it wasn’t like Madison would think to ask, but Reese still felt a little guilty about not telling her.

It was only after talking to Madison that Reese realized going shopping was more complicated than it used to be. Since her parents wouldn’t let her go anywhere on her own anymore, she told them she was spending the day at Julian’s house. Julian agreed to sneak out with her via the alley that ran behind his street, and Madison was picking them up a couple of blocks away.

She was already waiting in her lime-green VW by the time they arrived, breathless from sprinting down the alley. “You’re late!” she said, but she looked more excited than upset.

Julian climbed into the backseat and said, “She got a call from her boyfriend.”

Madison grinned. “Oooh, really? What did he say?”

Reese glared at Julian and tugged her baseball cap farther down over her head. “Nothing. Let’s go—we have to be back here by four thirty.”

Madison laughed. “All right. Let’s find you an outfit for Friday night.”

Haight Street was lined with thrift stores and head shops, clumps of street kids smoking, and tourists who stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to take photos. As Reese, Julian, and Madison wove their way among pedestrians and the smell of pot smoke, Reese kept her head down and hoped that nobody would recognize her. Madison pushed open the door of a thrift shop, the bell jingling. “Come on, let’s try this one first,” she said.

Reese and Julian followed her inside. It smelled like used clothes—that combination of mothballs and other people’s lives that always made Reese wonder who had worn these things before. Madison dived into the first rack, quickly flipping through blouses of every color and combination. Reese pulled off her sunglasses and wandered back to the accessories and began to dig through a pile of hats. Madison was at her elbow almost instantly.

“No,” Madison said sternly. “Focus, Reese. You need a skirt and a top.” Madison dragged her back to the rack full of blouses and began to hold them up to Reese, while Julian looked on.

“Ew,” Reese said, pushing away an orange shirt with pink flowers on it. “I’m not wearing that.”

“You need to have a more open mind,” Madison admonished her, but hung up the orange shirt. “Just try some things on and we’ll see what looks good.”

Fifteen minutes later Reese was in a dressing room with an armful of shirts. The first was a clingy red tank top with lace edging that made her chest look huge. She opened the dressing room curtain and shook her head at Madison and Julian. “This is not me.”

Madison tugged the curtain aside and gave her an appraising look. “Wow. Yeah, not you.”

Julian poked his head over Madison’s shoulder, making a face. “Yeah, no.”

“I told you,” Reese said.

“Try on the blue one,” Madison said, pulling the curtain shut again. But the blue one was too tight; the purple too loose. As Reese struggled into a billowy white shirt with armholes in very strange places, Madison said, “I can’t believe you’re dating David Li. It’s so crazy.”

“Why is it crazy?” Reese said indignantly. “I’ve been friends with him for a while.”

“You’ve been his debate partner. That’s different. Besides, as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been like ‘I’m not dating anyone ever!’ What changed your mind?”

Amber? But Reese said, “I don’t know.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go look at the belts,” Julian called.

“Okay,” Reese and Madison said in unison. Reese finally got the white blouse on. It made her look like a cross between the Pillsbury Doughboy and—no, that was bad enough. She took it off without showing it to Madison.

She pulled on a gray flannel shirt with black piping as Madison peeked through the curtain.

“I did not pick that shirt out for you,” Madison said.

“I know. I did.”

“It’s not sexy enough.”

Reese buttoned the shirt and looked in the mirror. It fit well. “I like it.”

“You would.” Madison pulled the curtains open and reached out to unbutton the top two buttons.

“Hey!” Reese cried.

“Cleavage,” Madison said. “You have some. You should take advantage of it.”

“I don’t have cleavage.”

“You have more than me.” Madison pointed at her size-A cups and gave herself a mournful look in the mirror. “Guys don’t like these.”

“You’re not dating the right guys.”

Madison smiled. “Yeah, probably not.” She studied Reese for a moment longer and said, “All right, you can have the shirt. But you have to wear it with a miniskirt.”

Reese groaned.

Two shops later, they compromised on a jean skirt. It was shorter than Reese was used to, but at least it wasn’t one of the plaid schoolgirl skirts that Madison kept pushing on her, and Julian approved. “Looks good,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Guys like skirts.”

“You’re gay. How would you know?” Reese teased him.

His eyebrows rose, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then shook his head. “I’ll let you off the hook this time because we’re friends. I’m gonna go look around.”

As he sauntered out of the dressing room, Madison gave Reese a questioning glance. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” Reese said, confused. Was she not allowed to make gay jokes anymore? Shouldn’t she have more of a right now that she had dated a girl? Or was Julian pissed at her for dating David? She felt uneasy—as if she had done something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

As Reese put her own clothes back on, Madison tried on a flowery summer dress. “Reese, can you help me zip up the back?” Madison called. Reese pulled on her baseball cap and went into Madison’s dressing room. Madison was waiting with the dress hanging open, and Reese’s memory flashed back to that afternoon with Amber in her bedroom, trying on her red dress. Taking the dress off. Reese swallowed and zipped Madison up.

“So you and David have this mental connection now,” Madison said, looking at Reese in the mirror. “Like telepathy? Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell what he’s thinking when he kisses you?”

“Um, yes.”

“Really? What is that like?”

The memory of kissing David swept through her body in a dizzying wave. “It’s intense.”

Madison’s eyes widened excitedly. “I knew it. It’s got to be insane. I’m so jealous!”

Reese shook her head. “Don’t be jealous. It’s also kind of weird.”

“I’ll take the weird,” Madison said, then examined herself in the mirror. “What do you think of the dress?”

“It looks good on you. You should get it.”

Madison tugged at the price tag on the sleeve and shook her head. “It’s forty-eight dollars. I can’t afford it. Come on, unzip me and we’ll find you some shoes.”

By the time they settled on footwear, Reese was thoroughly tired of shopping. She couldn’t understand how Madison could go on for hours, pawing through clothing racks like there was no tomorrow. Even Julian became bored and fidgety. “I’m not wearing those,” Reese said over and over, as Madison presented her with heels of all kinds, followed by glossy black boots that looked like they belonged to a dominatrix.

“You’re so hard to shop for!” Madison cried in frustration. They were at their fifth store, and it was almost four o’clock.

“What about these?” Reese said, pulling out a pair of chunky-heeled brown boots. They were scuffed on the toes and had metal buckles over the ankles.

“Motorcycle boots?” Madison said skeptically.

“Very dykey,” Julian observed. Reese avoided his gaze as she sat down to try them on.

“They are dykey,” Madison agreed. “Speaking of which, did you know that Bri had a crush on you sophomore year? She’s totally disappointed you’re with David.”

“What?” Reese gave Madison an incredulous look. “Briana?”

“Yes, Briana. Why do you think she kept trying to get you to do all those gay things with her?”

“I thought it was because she’s my friend?”

“You can be so clueless sometimes, really,” Madison said severely. “You knew, didn’t you, Julian?”

“Yep.” His face was inscrutable as Reese glanced at him.

“But she never said anything about it,” Reese said, bewildered.

Madison gave her a pointed look. “You never had any interest in dating. You made that perfectly clear. Besides, you’re straight. Why would Bri bring it up if she knew you’d only reject her?” Madison caught the furtive glance between Reese and Julian and said, “Wait. What is up with you two?”

Reese stood. “Nothing.” She didn’t look at Julian as she clomped over to the mirror hanging on the wall near the shoe section. “I like them,” she announced.

“If you wear them with the jean skirt and that gray shirt you’re going to look all country hoedown,” Madison warned her.

“They’re motorcycle boots, not cowboy boots.” Reese pulled one off and looked at the price written on the sticker on the sole. “And they’re only twenty bucks.”

Madison regarded them dubiously. “I guess they’re all right. Kind of badass. Is that what you’re going for?”

“I don’t know. Is that good?” She stared at herself in the mirror. She thought she looked uncertain, not badass. And maybe messy: Loose strands of dark brown hair were escaping from the ponytail she had tucked through the back of the baseball cap.

“Sometimes,” Madison said. “It’s not a bad look for you. Just wear your hair down and put on a nice bra. David will like it.”

“A nice bra? Are you going to make me go shopping for that too?”

“I’m not going,” Julian declared.

“Don’t freak out, Julian. You’re on your own for that, Reese. I don’t have time. After I drop you guys off, I have to go babysit at the Chens’.”

Reese sat down to put her sneakers back on. “I’m going to get the boots.”

“Nice,” Julian said, and when she looked over at him she saw a tiny smile cross his face. The sight of it loosened a bit of the tension inside her, though she still felt as if there was something off between them.

Madison leaned against the wall by the mirror, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell Bri I said anything, okay? I don’t know if she wanted you to know.”

“Sure, I won’t tell her,” Reese said.

“She’s dating that girl Sara now anyway and it probably doesn’t matter, but—just don’t tell her I told you.”

“Yeah. I won’t.” Reese picked up the boots to head to the cash register. She wondered if she should have come out to Madison. But what would be the point of that? Amber was the only girl she had ever been attracted to. Reese didn’t think there would be another.

Just as the store clerk handed Reese her purchase along with a fistful of change, Madison decided to buy a pair of earrings from a rack marked 50 percent off. “I’m going outside for a cigarette,” Julian said as Madison got in line to pay.

“Do you care if I go with him?” Reese asked Madison.

She shook her head. “Go ahead. I’ll be done in five minutes.”

Reese put on her sunglasses and picked up her bags to follow Julian outside. He walked to the edge of the sidewalk and leaned against a parking meter as he lit up. She was about to ask him about the weirdness she had sensed between them when she saw a black town car pull into the loading zone a few feet away. The rear window rolled down to reveal a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair who was looking directly at her.

“Miss Holloway?” the woman called.

“Who’s that?” Julian asked.

“I have no idea,” Reese said, startled.

“Miss Holloway, do you have a moment?” the woman asked.

Reese glanced at Julian. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded and she walked over to the car. The woman was wearing a dark blue suit and looked altogether ordinary—except that she was in a shiny black town car with tinted windows, and she knew Reese’s name.

“I have a message for you,” she said.

“Who are you?” Reese asked, not moving any closer to the car.

“I work for Charles Lovick,” the woman said. “He would like to invite you and David Li to meet with him Friday evening at six o’clock, if you’re interested in learning more about the Imria and what they did to you.” The woman extended a business card out the window, held between two manicured fingers with nails painted the color of pearls.

Reese stepped forward and took the card. The name Charles Lovick was engraved on the thick, cream-colored stock. She flipped it over, looking for some indication of who Lovick was, and on the back was a handwritten address: 88 Variety Store, Stockton Street.

“May I tell Mr. Lovick you’ll be there?” the woman asked pleasantly.

“Who is he?” Reese asked.

“He’ll explain on Friday. I’ll tell him to expect you both.” The window began to roll up.

“Wait a minute. We don’t know him. We’re not going to meet with a total stranger without any other information.”

The tinted window stopped halfway up. The woman leaned closer to the open half. “If you want to know who the Imria truly are, you’ll go to the meeting. You won’t be offered this opportunity again. Six o’clock on Friday. Don’t forget.” The window closed and the car drove away.

A moment later Julian was at her side. “Who was that? What happened?”

She told him and watched his eyes widen with shock.

“No way,” he said. “Are you going?”

“I don’t know. I can’t believe they followed me here.” She gazed down the street as the car turned off Haight and went out of sight. “How would they know where I am? We snuck out—I haven’t seen any men in black here. And who are they, anyway?”

“They’re either better at tailing you than the MIBs or you have a tracking device implanted in you.” Julian gave her a grin that quickly died as he saw the stricken look on her face. “I didn’t mean that!”

She fingered the hard edges of the business card, an unsettling dread rising in her. The Imria said they wanted to help her; the government wanted to prevent her from telling the truth; and now this Charles Lovick wanted—she didn’t know what he wanted, but she was pretty sure that if it was anything innocuous, he wouldn’t send a stranger in a town car to deliver the message in person. That told her that he—or his people—were following her.

Julian spouted off various theories about who Lovick might be, but she didn’t pay attention. She was beginning to feel extremely pissed off. She was a citizen of the United States of America, and her very own government was making her feel like a criminal by tailing her and censoring her when she had done nothing wrong. Now this total stranger was trying to tell her what to do by ordering her to meet him as if she were his trained lapdog. It was ironic that the only people who seemed to be waiting for her to make her own decisions were those who had changed the fundamental components of who she was—her DNA—without her permission.

She had to be honest with herself. She needed the information that the Imria were offering. If she rejected it simply because she was still torn up over Amber, she would wind up hating herself for being such a wimp.

She pulled out her phone as Madison emerged from the store. “Hey!” she called brightly. “I’m done! Whoa, what’s wrong? It looks like somebody died.”

Reese typed a text message to David as Julian gave Madison the rundown: I’m in for Angel Island. And we might have to make another stop Friday night. I’ll call you when I get home.