He looks at me quizzically, pushes his glasses back up his nose. He is definitely nerdy, but not in a bad way.
I shrug. “No reason.” It seems stupid now to care about Fiona or Miriam and however they want to talk about this. “I really can’t believe that my dad would do all of this without even warning us.”
“I’m sure he didn’t see it playing out this way.” Now it’s Quentin who shrugs. “How could he? It’s like he’s discovered this tiny little tear in the fabric of the world, which maybe isn’t even really a tear if you look at it up close,” he says. “I probably wouldn’t go around advertising it either until I knew for sure what it meant. Look at these lunatics from this company, already trying to get their hands on it. And no one even knows exactly what ‘it’ is yet, or what it means.”
“At least he should have told Cassie about her test,” I say. “She would have had time to adjust to the whole idea that she can do this thing before, you know, she had to run for her life.”
“Fair enough.” Quentin holds up his hands. “To be clear, I’m on your side, not your dad’s. And if I was Cassie, I definitely wouldn’t sit here and wait. No matter what anyone said.”
I’m relieved that he’s brought up us leaving again.
“I just told Cassie that.” I glance over at him. “But don’t tell Dr. Simons, okay?”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s my professor, not my priest, okay? I don’t have to confess everything to him.”
“Sorry, I just—I know Dr. Simons thinks it’s too dangerous for us to go, but sitting here waiting seems—”
“Insane?” Quentin nods. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
The way he says it makes me feel a little ridiculous. Like a little girl waiting for permission. I am sixteen, not six. And what is Dr. Simons going to do? Tie us up? They did lock us in a cabin for a little while, but there’s got to be a limit to what they’re willing to do.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” I motion toward where Cassie has gone. “She won’t go.”
“Really?” Quentin looks confused. “Is it because she doesn’t want to leave without Jasper? Because it looks like at least he got away okay.”
“How do you know?” My gut churns. And not with relief.
“Officer Kendall called Dr. Simons and told him the truck you guys came in is gone.” Quentin rubs his forehead. “Now that I think about it, I guess that’s not proof Jasper is okay. A good sign, though.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. But I do not feel reassured. “I’ll tell Cassie, definitely. But I’m not even sure it was because she was worried about Jasper.”
“If you can convince her to go, I’ll tag along. I mean, if you want me to.”
“Thanks.” And I do really appreciate the offer. “I think I’ll give her a few minutes to calm down. Then I’ll try talking to her again.” I motion to the small black square Quentin’s been working on. “What is that anyway?”
“A car battery that I’m trying to convert into a portable charging station, in case they kill our half-useless generator.”
“That’s impressive.”
“It would be,” he says with a smile, “if I could actually do it. I had this accident the summer after my dad died. I was laid up for weeks, so I taught myself all this engineering stuff.” Quentin runs a hand over his hair, then rests it on the back of his neck. “Anyway, I forgot that I was only ten, so it’s not like any of it was that complicated. Also, I wasn’t actually very good at it.”
“What kind of accident was it?” I ask. Because, yes, I am especially interested in such things.
Quentin pulls up his pant leg to show me a scar, at least six inches long, running up from his ankle along his calf. “They actually thought I was going to lose my foot. But three surgeries later, it’s as good as new, at least for someone who is completely nonathletic.”
A car accident. Of course, that’s already popped into my head.
“What happened?”
“I, um, well …” He doesn’t want to tell me. That’s obvious. Which just makes me desperate to know. “I had all these phobias when I was a kid, and they got a lot worse after my dad died. Anyway, my grandfather was this super-old-school guy. One day at the mall he decided he was going to ‘cure’ me of my fear of escalators.” Quentin takes a breath and tries to smile a little, like it’s kind of a funny story. But already it’s not. “And I wasn’t going down without a fight. My pants got caught, pulled my leg right in.”
I gasp. Out loud, I can’t help it. The image is so horrifying.
“Yeah, nothing like your worst fear coming true,” he says.