Chapter 3
It seemed like only a few minutes later that Lisa was awakened again. The sun was coming in her
window full force, like it was aiming for her, and something was making a dreadful racket. She
slapped blearily at her alarm clock. The noise stopped, then started again; it was the phone.
Stumbling out of bed, she grabbed at the phone and mumbled a sleepy "'lo" into the receiver.
"Are you trying to scare me to death, Young Lady. You like near sent me to an early grave."
"Morning, Mom," Lisa answered, trying to force some of the sleepiness from her voice.
"Where were you last night?" her mother responded. "I called and I called. Where was your
decency to call me back? I raised you better than that."
Lisa took a deep breath. "I was out studying, Mom. I told you I'd probably be out late. The
semester's almost over, remember?"
"Twenty-six hours, Lisa Christine--"
"Mom--"
"--I spent twenty-six hours in labor with you,--"
"Mom--"
"--and you can't even see fit to pick up the telephone and let me know that you're all right!" There
was banging in the background, like pots and pans being stacked together.
"Mother! I'm going to be home soon for a whole month. You have to stop worrying about me so
much. I can take care of myself." Lisa glanced at the clock, then had to look again to register the
time. She'd slept through her first class and was ten minutes from being late to her second. If she
hurried she could grab a shower, but breakfast was out of the question.
"--so many dangers out there," her mother was saying. "Not a day goes by that there isn't another
sad story in the news. You are locking your door at night? You know you're supposed to do that.
Just remember what happened in that sorority house at Florida State University. The only girl
who survived was the one whose door was locked." Her mother paused for a breath and Lisa
jumped in.
"Mom, I'll call you back later, okay? I have to get going; I overslept."
"Don't stay up so late tonight," her mother warned. "If you don't get your beauty sleep, you're
going to make yourself sick."
"I will," she promised. "Don't worry." She hung up the phone without waiting for a goodbye. If
she dared stay on the phone until one was spoken, she'd miss her second class too.
Ten minutes later, showered, she was running out of the door for her second class of the day.
There was no way she'd be on time, but at least she'd be there. Not until she was sitting in class
did she recall the dream; the reason she had overslept.
Lisa had spent the better part of three years not being a Tomorrow Person. The intensity and
attention that some people dedicated to their jobs, families -- to the important things in life --
she'd dedicated to this task. By no means had it been an easy one. The other Tomorrow People
were the kind of friends most people could only wish for -- it wasn't often that one found friends
who were willing to sacrifice their lives for your own -- and she wanted to disown them. On
those occasions when her reserve faltered and she started to forget her reasons, all she had to do
was look at her driver's license. At the picture that belonged to her and the tiny black type that
spelled out a name that didn't.
It was probably over-reacting. Her mother was known to do that, and it was her decision to take
up General Damon's offer. But it had been necessary at the time. Not so much as to prevent
others from coming after them. If anyone had wanted to find them, Lisa was sure a new name
wouldn't have been much of a hindrance. No, the change was so they could allow themselves to
feel safe.
The Davis' became the Youngs; they moved to a new state, and tried desperately to recreate what
they'd had before the talent show. At times it was rather like acting out parts in a private play.
And when her mother woke up with nightmares, as she sometimes did, or when Lisa came home
to the smell of baking brownies, she only had to invoke the Name to make her mom feel
comfortable again.
"They're not looking for the Youngs, Mother," she would say.
And her mother, who was lying shaking in bed or standing at the kitchen counter up to her
elbows in flour and cocoa, would digest that information and smile and say, "Of course not. Just
be careful."
'Be careful' which meant 'and don't do anything to change that'.
She had promised herself she wouldn't. And she was good about keeping it, mostly. It got harder
after she moved out, during her first lonely weeks at college. It was worse even than when they'd
changed their name and left a whole life behind. The option was there for her to go home, but it
was one she couldn't exercise. She didn't have a car, and she wasn't about to teleport. She'd had
terrible homesickness that semester, had even found herself missing brownies. She and her
roommate hadn't had much to say to one another. It was easy to go for days without saying a
word to anyone. In those times she found herself wondering how Adam, Megabyte and Kevin
were doing. Wondering if they'd ever figured out where the ship came from and who it belonged
to; if there were any other Tomorrow People.
She'd wondered, but she hadn't acted.
So, it really figured.
Because Adam was waiting in her room when she returned from class.
Lisa stopped short in the doorway, hand still on the knob. Adam had changed.
He was older, of course, which was somehow a surprise in itself. She'd only known him for a few
very intense days, but it didn't seem quite right that the person sitting cross-legged on her floor,
thumbing through one of her text books, should look different than the face burned into her
memory. He'd cut his hair, and his chin looked weaker than she remembered. But he still seemed
jittery, a feeling of too much energy for one human being. He had the same quality about him as
a soldier, always on guard, especially when appearing the most defenseless.
"Your roommate let me in," he explained, by way of greeting, then added, "She seems nice."
Lisa frowned, still trying to figure out what was happening. Adam being in her room was
something she hadn't experienced since, well, ever. She hadn't seen him outside the spaceship
since she became Lisa Young. Out of that context, he was all but a stranger. "Um, hi," she said
warily. "I hope you didn't do anything that I have to explain," she added, depositing her backpack
and jacket on the floor. Did anyone else have to worry about people appearing out of thin air, she
wondered briefly, before it occurred to her that that was the least of her problems. Later, her
roommate would want to know all the details -- the normal ones anyway -- who the dark-haired
Australian was, how Lisa knew him, how come she'd never mentioned him before. From there it
was bound to get worse.
"Not this time," Adam responded. He met her eyes, a barely concealed grin playing around his
lips.
Lisa hesitated for a moment longer before allowing herself to smile back. She forgot that
underneath all the worry and responsibility, Adam had a humorous side. His jokes were always
the most successful since they were the least expected. It was the side of him she knew least well,
but probably better than anyone else. At least, there had been a time once when she could say
that.
"Yeah, well I'd like to keep it that way." She forced the wariness from her voice before saying the
last. He knew full well how she felt; there was no reason to be rude about it. And to think that
once she'd questioned what interest the CIA could have in them.
Lisa shut the door and leaned back against it, the immediate small talk used up. Adam was in her
room for a reason; she wasn't eager to find out what it was. Since the day she'd said goodbye, he
hadn't once violated that request by coming to her. That he was here was just more proof she
didn't want that another phase of her life was coming to an end.
"We haven't seen you in a long time," he finally said. He gave a last rifle of the text book's pages,
then set it on the carpet and rose in a fluid motion to his feet. The room was small and filled with
dual sets of heavy wooden furniture. Lisa shifted on her feet. The short distance between she and
Adam was already getting uncomfortable.
She was already against the door, or she would have taken another step back. Instead, she stepped
around him, began to straighten up the small amount of clutter that had accumulated during the
week. She reached for a pile of notebooks on her desk, stacked haphazardly together, and was
stilled when Adam touched her arm.
"Are you okay, Lisa? Your mom?" She could hear the concern in his voice, see it echoed in his
every gesture. Adam needed to take care of others. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know
that he wondered if he'd succeeded, if he'd made the right decision all those years ago.
Lisa looked down at the notebooks her hand rested on. They had suffered for the semester, the
corners worn and bent, fourteen weeks of ink doodles masking the original bright colors. "Mom's
good. She worries. She mails me tins of brownies every couple of weeks."
"I thought she might," he said. "Mothers always have a hard time letting their children go."
"Especially mine," she murmured.
Adam grinned as he nodded in empathy, then his tone turned more questioning, as if he wasn't
sure what topics were safe and which would scare her off again. "Do you like it here?
University?"
"Yeah," she said, brightening. "I do. My biggest excitement is finals, but that's kind of the point. I
mean, don't *you* ever wish it could go back to how it was before?"
There was a slight pause in which he glanced down at his feet, then he said, "It can't."
"It can too," she replied, sounding childish even to her own ears. "My life was good. There was
no one trying to kill me, or experiment on me. Did you know that in my first sixteen years, I was
never once kidnaped? Taken hostage for any reason? And I didn't know anyone else who was
either."
"And now?"
"Now is even better," she said. "I have everything I always wanted. I have college, and friends,
and I know where my mom is, and I know she's safe." She gave a short laugh. "I have a
boyfriend. An actual boyfriend."
"You're lonely," he said.
"I don't have to wake up every morning wondering who's going to try to kill me today," she
retorted.
Another short pause, while Adam glanced out the window at the deceptively bright day. It looked
sunny and warm, but was in fact bitter cold with a harsh breeze that had burned Lisa's face as she
walked home from class. "But you do," he finally said.
"I was doing fine," she said, intending her words to sound cold, and ending up with mournful.
"Why are you here?"
Another quick look out the window, then he turned to her all with all seriousness.
Adam-the-leader stood before her. He raked a hand through his short hair. "Lisa, the ship . . . it
wants something. Something from one of us."
Us.
Sometimes she hated that word. It never seemed to include her in anything she wanted to be part
of.
She didn't answer. She did not want to talk about this. She straightened the notebooks again, then
turned to the bed and pulled up the crumpled sheets on the bottom bunk, doing what she could to
make the bed without crawling onto it. That task done, she turned back to Adam who was still
there, staring at her patiently. He hadn't even changed positions.
"I hoped you might know what," he said. "I've already talked to the others, and they're just as
blank as I am."
This was her chance, she realized. She should tell him about the dream, about meeting Sara. She
had found another Tomorrow Person, after all. Another in a strain of humanity so new all the
members could still be numbered on two hands. However, new Tomorrow People usually
appeared off the island's shore, their first teleport ending in a salt water bath. They did not appear
in dreams. Maybe he could tell her what it meant.
She had to laugh at that thought, or she would have if she had been alone and certain that no one
could hear her. After all this time, and all the distance, she was thinking-- seriously thinking--
about letting them back in. Because she wasn't stupid enough to think it would stop at Adam.
Letting him back meant letting all of them back. It meant going back to a time in her life she had
no desire to remember, much less re-experience.
'Be careful' her mom said.
Lisa was pretty sure this didn't qualify as careful.
He'd barely been here ten minutes and she was already weakening. Her instincts told her to turn
to him, to trust him, because he would know the answers. Adam had broken out into being a
Tomorrow Person first, lived with his powers the longest, and experienced the most. But she
wasn't far behind. She'd acquired her powers only weeks after him, and she was only a couple
years younger. She should be able to take care of any problems on her own; what Adam knew,
she should know.
And still that part of her kept trying to tell her what she should do, without considering what it
would cost. She should let them in, it said. There was a reason. She should trust Adam, it said.
There was a good reason. She should tell him because he might know what to do next.
"Lisa," he prompted.
But she knew what came next. If she said anything, he'd convince her to return to the island with
him. Then they'd be up to their ears in the kind of adventure that some people spend their lives
seeking, and Lisa had spent hers avoiding.
She averted her eyes to the worn school books again. There, scribbled in green ink was her name.
The one that wasn't hers. She wondered if Adam would understand that too, if he would
understand how much he was asking her to give up. Again.
"Adam," she began, and stopped. How could she express herself? How could she make him
understand, when she wasn't even sure she understood? She glanced out the window at the
students passing by, the lucky, lucky students who didn't even realize how lucky they were. None
of them, she was sure, would ever have to worry about this kind of conversation. They, at least,
had problems of the predictable kind. Their problems had solutions, well known and practiced,
because someone else had had the same kind of problem, and someone before that, and someone
before that.
A chime broke into her thoughts; the clock tower announcing the hour.
"Adam," she tried again. "I--" The tower quieted, the slack filled now with the increased volume
of chatter as students poured from the surrounding buildings. "Did that just ring four times?"
"I think so," he said. "I wasn't counting."
Her shoulders suddenly relaxed, her breath escaping in a quick gasp. "I have class. I have to go to
class. Now." She didn't even try to hide her relief. Saved by the bell.
"Lisa, this is important."
"I know. We'll talk about it later, okay?" Her eyebrows went up, countenance expressing a silent
plea. "I promise," she added. "I can't miss class; my mother would kill me if she found out." She
grabbed the backpack and winter coat that still sat by the door and rushed out, leaving Adam
behind.
In the hallway, a mural of snowmen and ice skaters was being created along the cinder block
walls and wooden doors in preparation for a holiday season that would leave the building closed
and empty with no one around to look at or enjoy the effort being put into the decorating. Pairs of
girls were scattered up and down the hallway involved in the construction paper and glitter
project. Lisa nodded at one of the pairs, two girls she recognized from a class but couldn't place
names to, and headed towards the exit at the opposite end of the long hall.
"Lisa, wait!" Adam padded up behind her.
"No," she said. "I'm going to be late." She struggled into her jacket as she went, juggling her
backpack from one arm to the other as she tried to get everything on in the correct order before
hitting the outside and whatever whims of the weather awaited.
"Yeah! You go, Lisa!" the two girls yelled, drawing the attention of the scattered others who had
been at work. Two other girls cheered loudly. The floor as a whole never acted much as if they
liked boys or anything to do with them. Yet this was the same floor that, when a fire alarm had
gone off at 3:00 in the morning on their second day of school, had more boys exit the rooms than
girls. That was only the first time that Lisa had huddled out on the lawn in her pajamas, hugging
herself in a fit of shyness, and wishing that whomever had failed to do his or her job in keeping
the all-girls residence hall all-girls would be dismissed on the spot.
"Wait, please," Adam begged. He grabbed her left sleeve as she was trying to slide her arm
through it and pulled it back off. She wrenched it out of his hands and turned to face him, the
jacket still dangling half on.
"Class, Adam," she stated, nodding her head to show that he was also supposed to nod his head
and agree with what she said. "That's the part where I leave this building and go to another one to
sit in a crowded room and get lectured at about something that has no relevance to my life
whatsoever, except that it's required, and as they say: to do the stuff you want to do, sometimes
you have to do the stuff you don't want to it. Only, I'm pretty sure that "stuff" isn't the word that
usually gets used, and I want to go to medical school. Okay?" She turned to continue towards the
door, and ran right into her roommate.
The older woman, a junior to Lisa's sophomore, posed in the hall like a model at the end of the
runway. She wore skin tight black jeans and a black roll necked sweater. Static electricity fluffed
her dark brown hair in a halo around her head, yet she somehow managed to look as if that was
exactly what she had intended her hair to do.
"Omigod, *you* have been keeping secrets from me!" Tanya announced, letting her gaze brush
the length of Adam's body in a way that was neither decorous nor polite. "Here I think there's not
much to you, then *he* shows up at the door," she continued, the near shouting level of her voice
drawing everyone's attention to the scene.
Adam muttered something behind her, and for once Lisa felt like they were on the same side. Her
immediate instinct was to shush her roommate and deny any wrong doing. Instead, she narrowed
her eyes, putting as much steel into the expression as she knew how. It was hopeless to try to
silence Tanya, but it was damning to respond to her. The girl treated conversation like catching a
fish: casting out topics until one was seized, then reeling it in and drowning it in air until it died.
"How could you keep something that . . . gorgeous . . . hidden? Unless you were trying to keep
him for yourself. You weren't trying to keep him for yourself?" Tanya continued, volume
unmoderated. She talked at Lisa as if Adam weren't standing right there. "Is he seeing anyone?
Are you two a thing? Is he gay? He's not gay, is he? Please tell me he's straight and available."
"Adam," Lisa whispered over her shoulder, "Escape. Now."
He nodded once and took a step back towards the dorm room. He would duck in there, Lisa
figured, and teleport back to the island, and Tanya would be left forever wondering how he got
away. It was almost justice.
"Do you like coffee?" Tanya turning on Adam, who looked like he was ready to teleport away
regardless of the audience. "I know this *great* coffee place. It's over on Third street. Do you go
to school here? You know where Third street is, right?" She waved a pointed finger in an array of
different directions that did nothing to clarify which direction Third street might be in. "On the
corner of Forrest and Third. Oh, I can't remember what the place is called. Lisa, what's that place
called on Forrest and Third. Or is it Graham and Third? It might be Graham and Third."
"It's Fourth street," Lisa found herself answering, almost against her will. "And it closed last
semester."
Tanya looked momentarily disappointed, then sized up Adam again "But you still like coffee?
You look like the kind of guy who just *loves* coffee. French Silk Mocha. You don't look like a
cappuccino kind of guy."
"Coffee?" Adam stuttered.
"I knew it," Tanya announced, triumphantly. "Definitely mochas. French Silk Mochas. They're so
rich, and those chocolate shavings on top, mmmm."
"I-I don't--." He looked helplessly at Lisa.
Fine. Lisa stepped forward. "Tanya, Adam's just visiting and right now he has to go away. Far
away. He doesn't drink coffee, he doesn't go to school here, and he's not interested in you." While
she talked, Adam was backing towards the dorm room. She waited until Adam had gotten close
enough to the room to be out of firing range before finishing, in the sweetest voice she could
muster, "Fair enough?"
Tanya paused for just a second, a long second in which she seemed to be processing Lisa's words.
One of her hands crept up and tugged at the longer of the three earrings dangling from her right
ear. "You mean you *are* dating?" she asked, yanking on the earring again and not seeming at all
surprised. "Are you lovers?"
Without answering, Lisa finished shrugging her jacket on, zipped up the front, then settled the
backpack in place, its weight reassuring on her shoulders. "I'm going this way," she told Tanya,
pointing towards the exterior doors at the end of the hall. She pushed past Tanya, knowing the
girl wouldn't step aside without prompting, and walked towards her destination, and her freedom.
Getting outside, continuing her schedule as it had been every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for
the last semester, would be normal. It would be what she came here to achieve. She hoped,
somehow, Adam would also escape back to relative safety on the other side of the world, where
he would stay, never, never to return.
"It's not fair!" Tanya lamented behind her. "Your life is just so cool. You are so lucky."
It seemed like only a few minutes later that Lisa was awakened again. The sun was coming in her
window full force, like it was aiming for her, and something was making a dreadful racket. She
slapped blearily at her alarm clock. The noise stopped, then started again; it was the phone.
Stumbling out of bed, she grabbed at the phone and mumbled a sleepy "'lo" into the receiver.
"Are you trying to scare me to death, Young Lady. You like near sent me to an early grave."
"Morning, Mom," Lisa answered, trying to force some of the sleepiness from her voice.
"Where were you last night?" her mother responded. "I called and I called. Where was your
decency to call me back? I raised you better than that."
Lisa took a deep breath. "I was out studying, Mom. I told you I'd probably be out late. The
semester's almost over, remember?"
"Twenty-six hours, Lisa Christine--"
"Mom--"
"--I spent twenty-six hours in labor with you,--"
"Mom--"
"--and you can't even see fit to pick up the telephone and let me know that you're all right!" There
was banging in the background, like pots and pans being stacked together.
"Mother! I'm going to be home soon for a whole month. You have to stop worrying about me so
much. I can take care of myself." Lisa glanced at the clock, then had to look again to register the
time. She'd slept through her first class and was ten minutes from being late to her second. If she
hurried she could grab a shower, but breakfast was out of the question.
"--so many dangers out there," her mother was saying. "Not a day goes by that there isn't another
sad story in the news. You are locking your door at night? You know you're supposed to do that.
Just remember what happened in that sorority house at Florida State University. The only girl
who survived was the one whose door was locked." Her mother paused for a breath and Lisa
jumped in.
"Mom, I'll call you back later, okay? I have to get going; I overslept."
"Don't stay up so late tonight," her mother warned. "If you don't get your beauty sleep, you're
going to make yourself sick."
"I will," she promised. "Don't worry." She hung up the phone without waiting for a goodbye. If
she dared stay on the phone until one was spoken, she'd miss her second class too.
Ten minutes later, showered, she was running out of the door for her second class of the day.
There was no way she'd be on time, but at least she'd be there. Not until she was sitting in class
did she recall the dream; the reason she had overslept.
Lisa had spent the better part of three years not being a Tomorrow Person. The intensity and
attention that some people dedicated to their jobs, families -- to the important things in life --
she'd dedicated to this task. By no means had it been an easy one. The other Tomorrow People
were the kind of friends most people could only wish for -- it wasn't often that one found friends
who were willing to sacrifice their lives for your own -- and she wanted to disown them. On
those occasions when her reserve faltered and she started to forget her reasons, all she had to do
was look at her driver's license. At the picture that belonged to her and the tiny black type that
spelled out a name that didn't.
It was probably over-reacting. Her mother was known to do that, and it was her decision to take
up General Damon's offer. But it had been necessary at the time. Not so much as to prevent
others from coming after them. If anyone had wanted to find them, Lisa was sure a new name
wouldn't have been much of a hindrance. No, the change was so they could allow themselves to
feel safe.
The Davis' became the Youngs; they moved to a new state, and tried desperately to recreate what
they'd had before the talent show. At times it was rather like acting out parts in a private play.
And when her mother woke up with nightmares, as she sometimes did, or when Lisa came home
to the smell of baking brownies, she only had to invoke the Name to make her mom feel
comfortable again.
"They're not looking for the Youngs, Mother," she would say.
And her mother, who was lying shaking in bed or standing at the kitchen counter up to her
elbows in flour and cocoa, would digest that information and smile and say, "Of course not. Just
be careful."
'Be careful' which meant 'and don't do anything to change that'.
She had promised herself she wouldn't. And she was good about keeping it, mostly. It got harder
after she moved out, during her first lonely weeks at college. It was worse even than when they'd
changed their name and left a whole life behind. The option was there for her to go home, but it
was one she couldn't exercise. She didn't have a car, and she wasn't about to teleport. She'd had
terrible homesickness that semester, had even found herself missing brownies. She and her
roommate hadn't had much to say to one another. It was easy to go for days without saying a
word to anyone. In those times she found herself wondering how Adam, Megabyte and Kevin
were doing. Wondering if they'd ever figured out where the ship came from and who it belonged
to; if there were any other Tomorrow People.
She'd wondered, but she hadn't acted.
So, it really figured.
Because Adam was waiting in her room when she returned from class.
Lisa stopped short in the doorway, hand still on the knob. Adam had changed.
He was older, of course, which was somehow a surprise in itself. She'd only known him for a few
very intense days, but it didn't seem quite right that the person sitting cross-legged on her floor,
thumbing through one of her text books, should look different than the face burned into her
memory. He'd cut his hair, and his chin looked weaker than she remembered. But he still seemed
jittery, a feeling of too much energy for one human being. He had the same quality about him as
a soldier, always on guard, especially when appearing the most defenseless.
"Your roommate let me in," he explained, by way of greeting, then added, "She seems nice."
Lisa frowned, still trying to figure out what was happening. Adam being in her room was
something she hadn't experienced since, well, ever. She hadn't seen him outside the spaceship
since she became Lisa Young. Out of that context, he was all but a stranger. "Um, hi," she said
warily. "I hope you didn't do anything that I have to explain," she added, depositing her backpack
and jacket on the floor. Did anyone else have to worry about people appearing out of thin air, she
wondered briefly, before it occurred to her that that was the least of her problems. Later, her
roommate would want to know all the details -- the normal ones anyway -- who the dark-haired
Australian was, how Lisa knew him, how come she'd never mentioned him before. From there it
was bound to get worse.
"Not this time," Adam responded. He met her eyes, a barely concealed grin playing around his
lips.
Lisa hesitated for a moment longer before allowing herself to smile back. She forgot that
underneath all the worry and responsibility, Adam had a humorous side. His jokes were always
the most successful since they were the least expected. It was the side of him she knew least well,
but probably better than anyone else. At least, there had been a time once when she could say
that.
"Yeah, well I'd like to keep it that way." She forced the wariness from her voice before saying the
last. He knew full well how she felt; there was no reason to be rude about it. And to think that
once she'd questioned what interest the CIA could have in them.
Lisa shut the door and leaned back against it, the immediate small talk used up. Adam was in her
room for a reason; she wasn't eager to find out what it was. Since the day she'd said goodbye, he
hadn't once violated that request by coming to her. That he was here was just more proof she
didn't want that another phase of her life was coming to an end.
"We haven't seen you in a long time," he finally said. He gave a last rifle of the text book's pages,
then set it on the carpet and rose in a fluid motion to his feet. The room was small and filled with
dual sets of heavy wooden furniture. Lisa shifted on her feet. The short distance between she and
Adam was already getting uncomfortable.
She was already against the door, or she would have taken another step back. Instead, she stepped
around him, began to straighten up the small amount of clutter that had accumulated during the
week. She reached for a pile of notebooks on her desk, stacked haphazardly together, and was
stilled when Adam touched her arm.
"Are you okay, Lisa? Your mom?" She could hear the concern in his voice, see it echoed in his
every gesture. Adam needed to take care of others. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know
that he wondered if he'd succeeded, if he'd made the right decision all those years ago.
Lisa looked down at the notebooks her hand rested on. They had suffered for the semester, the
corners worn and bent, fourteen weeks of ink doodles masking the original bright colors. "Mom's
good. She worries. She mails me tins of brownies every couple of weeks."
"I thought she might," he said. "Mothers always have a hard time letting their children go."
"Especially mine," she murmured.
Adam grinned as he nodded in empathy, then his tone turned more questioning, as if he wasn't
sure what topics were safe and which would scare her off again. "Do you like it here?
University?"
"Yeah," she said, brightening. "I do. My biggest excitement is finals, but that's kind of the point. I
mean, don't *you* ever wish it could go back to how it was before?"
There was a slight pause in which he glanced down at his feet, then he said, "It can't."
"It can too," she replied, sounding childish even to her own ears. "My life was good. There was
no one trying to kill me, or experiment on me. Did you know that in my first sixteen years, I was
never once kidnaped? Taken hostage for any reason? And I didn't know anyone else who was
either."
"And now?"
"Now is even better," she said. "I have everything I always wanted. I have college, and friends,
and I know where my mom is, and I know she's safe." She gave a short laugh. "I have a
boyfriend. An actual boyfriend."
"You're lonely," he said.
"I don't have to wake up every morning wondering who's going to try to kill me today," she
retorted.
Another short pause, while Adam glanced out the window at the deceptively bright day. It looked
sunny and warm, but was in fact bitter cold with a harsh breeze that had burned Lisa's face as she
walked home from class. "But you do," he finally said.
"I was doing fine," she said, intending her words to sound cold, and ending up with mournful.
"Why are you here?"
Another quick look out the window, then he turned to her all with all seriousness.
Adam-the-leader stood before her. He raked a hand through his short hair. "Lisa, the ship . . . it
wants something. Something from one of us."
Us.
Sometimes she hated that word. It never seemed to include her in anything she wanted to be part
of.
She didn't answer. She did not want to talk about this. She straightened the notebooks again, then
turned to the bed and pulled up the crumpled sheets on the bottom bunk, doing what she could to
make the bed without crawling onto it. That task done, she turned back to Adam who was still
there, staring at her patiently. He hadn't even changed positions.
"I hoped you might know what," he said. "I've already talked to the others, and they're just as
blank as I am."
This was her chance, she realized. She should tell him about the dream, about meeting Sara. She
had found another Tomorrow Person, after all. Another in a strain of humanity so new all the
members could still be numbered on two hands. However, new Tomorrow People usually
appeared off the island's shore, their first teleport ending in a salt water bath. They did not appear
in dreams. Maybe he could tell her what it meant.
She had to laugh at that thought, or she would have if she had been alone and certain that no one
could hear her. After all this time, and all the distance, she was thinking-- seriously thinking--
about letting them back in. Because she wasn't stupid enough to think it would stop at Adam.
Letting him back meant letting all of them back. It meant going back to a time in her life she had
no desire to remember, much less re-experience.
'Be careful' her mom said.
Lisa was pretty sure this didn't qualify as careful.
He'd barely been here ten minutes and she was already weakening. Her instincts told her to turn
to him, to trust him, because he would know the answers. Adam had broken out into being a
Tomorrow Person first, lived with his powers the longest, and experienced the most. But she
wasn't far behind. She'd acquired her powers only weeks after him, and she was only a couple
years younger. She should be able to take care of any problems on her own; what Adam knew,
she should know.
And still that part of her kept trying to tell her what she should do, without considering what it
would cost. She should let them in, it said. There was a reason. She should trust Adam, it said.
There was a good reason. She should tell him because he might know what to do next.
"Lisa," he prompted.
But she knew what came next. If she said anything, he'd convince her to return to the island with
him. Then they'd be up to their ears in the kind of adventure that some people spend their lives
seeking, and Lisa had spent hers avoiding.
She averted her eyes to the worn school books again. There, scribbled in green ink was her name.
The one that wasn't hers. She wondered if Adam would understand that too, if he would
understand how much he was asking her to give up. Again.
"Adam," she began, and stopped. How could she express herself? How could she make him
understand, when she wasn't even sure she understood? She glanced out the window at the
students passing by, the lucky, lucky students who didn't even realize how lucky they were. None
of them, she was sure, would ever have to worry about this kind of conversation. They, at least,
had problems of the predictable kind. Their problems had solutions, well known and practiced,
because someone else had had the same kind of problem, and someone before that, and someone
before that.
A chime broke into her thoughts; the clock tower announcing the hour.
"Adam," she tried again. "I--" The tower quieted, the slack filled now with the increased volume
of chatter as students poured from the surrounding buildings. "Did that just ring four times?"
"I think so," he said. "I wasn't counting."
Her shoulders suddenly relaxed, her breath escaping in a quick gasp. "I have class. I have to go to
class. Now." She didn't even try to hide her relief. Saved by the bell.
"Lisa, this is important."
"I know. We'll talk about it later, okay?" Her eyebrows went up, countenance expressing a silent
plea. "I promise," she added. "I can't miss class; my mother would kill me if she found out." She
grabbed the backpack and winter coat that still sat by the door and rushed out, leaving Adam
behind.
In the hallway, a mural of snowmen and ice skaters was being created along the cinder block
walls and wooden doors in preparation for a holiday season that would leave the building closed
and empty with no one around to look at or enjoy the effort being put into the decorating. Pairs of
girls were scattered up and down the hallway involved in the construction paper and glitter
project. Lisa nodded at one of the pairs, two girls she recognized from a class but couldn't place
names to, and headed towards the exit at the opposite end of the long hall.
"Lisa, wait!" Adam padded up behind her.
"No," she said. "I'm going to be late." She struggled into her jacket as she went, juggling her
backpack from one arm to the other as she tried to get everything on in the correct order before
hitting the outside and whatever whims of the weather awaited.
"Yeah! You go, Lisa!" the two girls yelled, drawing the attention of the scattered others who had
been at work. Two other girls cheered loudly. The floor as a whole never acted much as if they
liked boys or anything to do with them. Yet this was the same floor that, when a fire alarm had
gone off at 3:00 in the morning on their second day of school, had more boys exit the rooms than
girls. That was only the first time that Lisa had huddled out on the lawn in her pajamas, hugging
herself in a fit of shyness, and wishing that whomever had failed to do his or her job in keeping
the all-girls residence hall all-girls would be dismissed on the spot.
"Wait, please," Adam begged. He grabbed her left sleeve as she was trying to slide her arm
through it and pulled it back off. She wrenched it out of his hands and turned to face him, the
jacket still dangling half on.
"Class, Adam," she stated, nodding her head to show that he was also supposed to nod his head
and agree with what she said. "That's the part where I leave this building and go to another one to
sit in a crowded room and get lectured at about something that has no relevance to my life
whatsoever, except that it's required, and as they say: to do the stuff you want to do, sometimes
you have to do the stuff you don't want to it. Only, I'm pretty sure that "stuff" isn't the word that
usually gets used, and I want to go to medical school. Okay?" She turned to continue towards the
door, and ran right into her roommate.
The older woman, a junior to Lisa's sophomore, posed in the hall like a model at the end of the
runway. She wore skin tight black jeans and a black roll necked sweater. Static electricity fluffed
her dark brown hair in a halo around her head, yet she somehow managed to look as if that was
exactly what she had intended her hair to do.
"Omigod, *you* have been keeping secrets from me!" Tanya announced, letting her gaze brush
the length of Adam's body in a way that was neither decorous nor polite. "Here I think there's not
much to you, then *he* shows up at the door," she continued, the near shouting level of her voice
drawing everyone's attention to the scene.
Adam muttered something behind her, and for once Lisa felt like they were on the same side. Her
immediate instinct was to shush her roommate and deny any wrong doing. Instead, she narrowed
her eyes, putting as much steel into the expression as she knew how. It was hopeless to try to
silence Tanya, but it was damning to respond to her. The girl treated conversation like catching a
fish: casting out topics until one was seized, then reeling it in and drowning it in air until it died.
"How could you keep something that . . . gorgeous . . . hidden? Unless you were trying to keep
him for yourself. You weren't trying to keep him for yourself?" Tanya continued, volume
unmoderated. She talked at Lisa as if Adam weren't standing right there. "Is he seeing anyone?
Are you two a thing? Is he gay? He's not gay, is he? Please tell me he's straight and available."
"Adam," Lisa whispered over her shoulder, "Escape. Now."
He nodded once and took a step back towards the dorm room. He would duck in there, Lisa
figured, and teleport back to the island, and Tanya would be left forever wondering how he got
away. It was almost justice.
"Do you like coffee?" Tanya turning on Adam, who looked like he was ready to teleport away
regardless of the audience. "I know this *great* coffee place. It's over on Third street. Do you go
to school here? You know where Third street is, right?" She waved a pointed finger in an array of
different directions that did nothing to clarify which direction Third street might be in. "On the
corner of Forrest and Third. Oh, I can't remember what the place is called. Lisa, what's that place
called on Forrest and Third. Or is it Graham and Third? It might be Graham and Third."
"It's Fourth street," Lisa found herself answering, almost against her will. "And it closed last
semester."
Tanya looked momentarily disappointed, then sized up Adam again "But you still like coffee?
You look like the kind of guy who just *loves* coffee. French Silk Mocha. You don't look like a
cappuccino kind of guy."
"Coffee?" Adam stuttered.
"I knew it," Tanya announced, triumphantly. "Definitely mochas. French Silk Mochas. They're so
rich, and those chocolate shavings on top, mmmm."
"I-I don't--." He looked helplessly at Lisa.
Fine. Lisa stepped forward. "Tanya, Adam's just visiting and right now he has to go away. Far
away. He doesn't drink coffee, he doesn't go to school here, and he's not interested in you." While
she talked, Adam was backing towards the dorm room. She waited until Adam had gotten close
enough to the room to be out of firing range before finishing, in the sweetest voice she could
muster, "Fair enough?"
Tanya paused for just a second, a long second in which she seemed to be processing Lisa's words.
One of her hands crept up and tugged at the longer of the three earrings dangling from her right
ear. "You mean you *are* dating?" she asked, yanking on the earring again and not seeming at all
surprised. "Are you lovers?"
Without answering, Lisa finished shrugging her jacket on, zipped up the front, then settled the
backpack in place, its weight reassuring on her shoulders. "I'm going this way," she told Tanya,
pointing towards the exterior doors at the end of the hall. She pushed past Tanya, knowing the
girl wouldn't step aside without prompting, and walked towards her destination, and her freedom.
Getting outside, continuing her schedule as it had been every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for
the last semester, would be normal. It would be what she came here to achieve. She hoped,
somehow, Adam would also escape back to relative safety on the other side of the world, where
he would stay, never, never to return.
"It's not fair!" Tanya lamented behind her. "Your life is just so cool. You are so lucky."
