Chapter Twenty-Two: Do You Trust Me?

After lunch, I somehow made it through the rest of my classes. By the end of the day I was feeling a bit better, mostly because I'd decided not to think about *it* too much.

I was just walking towards the school gate when my phone buzzed in my back pocket.
It was a text from Layla.

'Hey, I hope you're feeling better - want to meet up with me for coffee? We can take the train together if you meet me at the gate.'

I look up to see her waiting at the gate, waving at me with a welcoming smile. I smile back and walk over.

"Sounds good," I said, gesturing at my phone, "where do you want to go?"

"The Urban Grind is good" she said as we start to walk towards the station, "the coffee isn't as good as Jitters, but after last time, I'd rather not pay them for hiring bigot employees."

"I'll second that," I muttered, thinking of the rude barista we'd seen last time we'd gone to Jitters.

As soon as we got on the train, I took the opportunity to practice my telepathy again. Every time I'd taken public transport, I'd been practicing and getting better and better at not just controlling my powers but using them without a massive headache.

So far, I've discovered that, I can only really sense surface thoughts, and after some research on the parts of the brain, I discovered that I can only manipulate things in the temporal lobe or the optical lobe. I haven't actually practiced making people see things, but I assume that's what was going on last year when all the 'Illusionist' stuff was happening.

I've also discovered that the train seems to be a prime location for having mini existential crises. And no, I'm not joking. You would not believe the number of times I've intruded on someone's thoughts only to realise they're wondering 'about their place in the universe', or 'what am I doing with my life?!'.

Today, I opened my mind and targeted a girl about my age at the other end of the carriage. She had a soft face and brown eyes. She was reading a book which I couldn't quite see the title of.

'Calpurnia scratched her head. "Well, I don't rightly know," she said. Jem underlined it when he asked if Atticus if…'*
I smiled, guessing the book immediately.

Reading the thoughts of someone who's reading was funny – it was as if they were reading the book aloud but with voices - and if I focussed really hard, I could pick up some vague imagery depending on how much of an active imagination the reader had.

No matter how hard I tried though, I couldn't access anything else. The mind was funny like that. It was like a building. I had a key card to enter the building, but it would only open the doors to the rooms that were actively being used by the person living there. And I could only manipulate what I could access.

I enjoyed the book, and it was an easy way of practicing, so I would have normally just focussed on the girl's internal narration and enjoy the book until I reached my stop, but I was with company, so I let the connection drop.

I asked Layla about her assignments, and we passed the time complaining about teachers who returned late drafts and then expected you to be ready to hand in a final in an unreasonably short amount of time after that. Common problem, I guess.

"So, did you see?" Layla asked excitedly as I sat down beside her with my chai latte.

"See what?" I asked, taking a sip.

"The news about last night!"
I don't think I've ever seen her as excited about anything. Her eyes were bright and there was a big smile on her face.

"Um, no, I don't think so. What's it saying?" I said, not telling her that I'd been avoiding checking the news. I didn't really want to know if the CCPD were now after me for vandalism.

"I mean," Layla began, taking a quick gulp of her own drink, "there's the usual 'they're vandals! Arrest them!', but there's also a lot of blogs and independent news outlets really opening up to the discussion."

"That's really good," I said, finally giving in to a smile. I felt better knowing that even though what I'd helped Layla do was illegal, at least it was helping people remember that metas were real people. Goodness knows I needed that hope after the day I'd had.

"I know, right? And the Senator made a statement. Of course, he was all 'this will not be tolerated' and so on," Layla rolled her eyes dramatically, "but that just added fuel to some articles. There was one journalist who really took our side, you know that blogger who wrote that blog about the Flash?"

"Wait, do you mean Iris West?" I asked, surprised and pleased, almost forgetting that I wasn't supposed to know Iris.

"I thought they were anonymous, but anyway, she was going on about how the political leaders don't consult with metas before making laws and that if we were treated better by the government, maybe meta crime rates would drop."

I took another sip of my drink, not wanting to reveal anything else.

"Anyway," Layla said in a much calmer tone after a few minutes, "I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I know you're not in the Pack, but I really think with your help we can make a difference. I mean, you saw what we did the other night, and it's really raising awareness!" Layla said, earnest and sincere. "And after what the school told you today…well, it's clear that our mission is personally relevant to you."

"I don't know," I hedged, unsure about actually committing, "What we did was still illegal. I don't know if I'd feel…" I trailed off.

"Jules," Layla said gently, pinning me with her golden eyes, "I wouldn't want to push you into something you weren't comfortable with. I just wanted to ask because we're organising another job, something that could really help, and having you on board could be invaluable."

They want me. They don't want to get rid of me.

The thought gave me a warm glow inside my chest, but then I thought about Ms Ormond's threats.

I have friends and they want me and need me. And I can't lose them. They've done so much for me! They're even fighting so that people like Ms Ormond don't get to just enrol me in their 'program for challenged teens' without my permission.

"Okay," I agreed cautiously, and ignored the voice in the back of my head telling me I was making a mistake. What did I have to lose?

"Thank you so much!" Layla gushed, "Now, let me tell you what you're agreeing to."

"That would be nice," I chuckled nervously, fiddling with my earbud cord even though I wasn't actually listening to the music.

"So, did you know the CCPD has a metahuman 'cure' now?" Layla asked wryly, making quotation marks with her fingers.

"What? No."

"Yes, and while Cicada was running around, they were offering it free to any meta who wanted it. Still are, actually."

I reeled. How long had they had this? Could they have just taken away my powers last year? I would have wanted that at the time, but now I couldn't imagine it. Did it hurt?

If wasn't a meta anymore, I wonder if Ms Ormond might let her vendetta against me drop?

"Anyway, it's so stupid, as if being a meta is a disease that needs to be cured," Layla snorted derisively, taking a final swig of her drink.

"But some people have scary powers," I offered, "like that guy who was basically turned into a radioactive bomb."

"Sure, some people, but most powers are a gift, and by offering this cure to anyone, the government is making it seem like a curse. As if being a metahuman makes me less human. But 'meta' means 'more than'. So 'metahuman' means 'more than human'," Layla explained, pointing to herself, and I suddenly remember that she's a meta too.

I'm not less than human. I'm more. I'd never thought about it that way before.

But nobody else sees that.
Everyone at school ran away when I lost control, and the assistant principle wanted to expel me because they weren't equipped to deal with my "special needs", as if I was broken. She's still trying to expel me.

'Unnatural powers'
'Program for challenged teens'

"All those people like Ms Ormond see is the villains on TV, and they call them 'monsters'," Layla said softly, "they call us monsters. But we're not. Wouldn't you like to prove them wrong?"

"What can we do about that though?" I said, matching her tone, "You can't force people to change their minds."

"But we can let them know that we don't need a cure. That we are perfect just the way we are."

"How?"

"You know the protest on Saturday night?" Layla asked, then suddenly chuckled, "Wait, you don't watch the news, so of course you wouldn't."

I smiled back at her. It was nice to be known. But I was hungry, hungry for the opportunity Layla was going to give me. At this point, I didn't really care if it was illegal. I just wanted to do something. Anything but just giving in.

"Anyway," She continued, "there's a protest over something or other, and the CCPD will be out in droves making sure it stays peaceful. While they're out of the station, we go in and destroy their 'cure' and leave before anyone notices."

"What?" My hands had knotted up tight in the earbud chord, and at the back of my mind, I was telling myself to be careful with it, so it didn't break, but the rest of me was still trying to make sense of what Layla had just proposed.

Break into the CCPD? That's…I mean, it would be a statement, but-

"I know," Layla said, interrupting my thoughts, "it sounds difficult, but imagine what sort of message it would send!"

"But-" I said, unsure how to express that feeling of 'this sounds like a bad idea' but wanting to try anyway.

"I've planned it all out," Layla said eagerly, not waiting for me to articulate my feelings, "none of us will be in any danger so long as you're there."

"Me?" I asked, now more befuddled than ever. What could I do that would be so important?

"Yes," Layla said, putting down her empty cup and lightly resting her hands atop mine, "without you, we wouldn't have a chance."

I give up trying to speak and decide to just let her finish. Besides, I'd probably find out everything quicker that way. Didn't I just decide that I didn't care if it was illegal?

"They obviously won't abandon the station completely, so I'll need you to distract the officers who stay behind," Layla told me, and my heart fluttered nervously.

"How?"

"You know what you did to the school last year?"

No.
My eyes widened, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. Then I took a deep breath and let it out.
Didn't Oliver say a CCPD officer was the one who gave the list of metas to Cicada so he could murder them? Wouldn't he deserve it? I wouldn't even actually hurt him, maybe just scare him a bit.

I imagined making Ms Ormond see her worst fears again, and the thought of revenge felt satisfying.

"You wouldn't have to scare them or anything!" Layla rushed to assure me, squeezing my hands, mistakenly assuming that I hadn't just decided that I didn't care about scaring them, "But if you could distract them, make them see something that isn't there so they get out of our way, we would get in and out without ever getting caught."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think a little more logically.

"Last year was an accident. I don't think I could do it again."

"I believe in you," Layla said confidently, "If you did it once, I know you can do it again."

You have been getting better at your telepathy. May as well put it to proper use.

The voice in the back of my head warned me to be cautious, telling me not to let my desperation get the better of me, telling me that Layla probably wasn't the safest person to throw in my lot with.

"If you want things to change, you have to do something, right?" She reminded me softly, those golden eyes warm with truth and that desire to do something, for if we didn't, who would? Who was going to make Ms Ormond stop? Nobody. I would just be another casualty of prejudice.

"Don't you trust me?"

Her eyes burned into my own and I was caught.

I do. I do trust her, despite all my reservations.

It didn't make sense, but I guess this was the girl who had invited me to sit down instead of letting me leave that day. She'd included me, she'd invited me to a party, hung out with me, and bought my coffee happily when I forgot my wallet. She'd introduced me to friends and was passionate about justice. She was brave and loyal. And she was trying to do a good thing. And she knew about Ms Ormond and was on my side.

After all she's done for me, why can't I do this for her? And it's technically for me as well!

"Okay," I said, decisively nodding, but then I paused, thinking about my own situation. The cure wouldn't directly help me, but there was something else at the CCPD that might.

"But while we're in there," I asked, "could we also damage the meta registry database?"

She smiled and it was like her whole face lit up, "We'll certainly try our best."

*. To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee pg. 100 Props to anyone who guessed it

Author's Note:

So, it's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the late chapter - I was doing a Narnia challenge throughout February when you literally have to write a one-shot a day for the whole month. For those who weren't following that, I almost made it to the end, but had to pull out for irl reasons.
Anyway, I'm back on track to winding this story up and the climax is coming soon! So be prepared! But for what, I cannot say ;)

Don't forget to review if you're so inclined! It's so encouraging :)
Trix