The Dark One

Isabel gave him a weak smile. "You should be thanking me," she said. "I'll be the lab rat. If I survive without making the co

Michael's stomach turned. This was just so wrong. He should be protecting Isabel, making sure it was safe for her.

"Don't be such a guy," Isabel said, catching the look on his face.

"I just… I can't stand the thought of you-" Michael couldn't continue. He stared down at the floor, trying to get a grip. If he let himself look at her right now, he'd totally lose it.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" Isabel asked. "I don't want to be subjected to an intervention or something. Those are so last century."

Michael nodded, eyes still on the floor. "You want me to stay? I can get the sleeping bag."

"No, I'll be all right," Isabel told him. "It's almost morning, anyway."

Michael reluctantly stood up and turned toward the door.

"See you at school tomorrow," she added.

Michael didn't look back. He couldn't.

Adam stepped out of the UFO museum and stared up at the sky. It was gray as cement and seemed lower than it usually was. He hated days like this. It felt like the whole world was part of the underground compound. It felt like the sun was just a figment of his imagination.

Seeing Liz would help. She was better than the sun. Adam knew Michael would crack up if he could hear that thought, but it was true. The sun made Adam feel extra alive, and so did Liz. But somehow Liz was the more powerful energy source.

He pulled the keys out of his pocket and stared at them for a moment before locking the door. It was an amazing feeling-having keys. It was like something actually belonged to him. And he belonged somewhere.

Adam was looking forward to the museum's grand reopening. It would be cool to have people in the place. Adam liked crowds. He liked the feel of the edges of his aura blending with others'. He'd spent enough time alone to last him for the rest of his life. There was no place in the world more lonely than a Project Clean Slate cell. Yes, there were guards posted on him all the time, but that just constantly reminded him of the fact that he was really all by himself.

Adam put his keys back in his pocket, enjoying the weight of them, and wandered down Main Street. It was lunchtime, so nobody would think it was strange for a teenager to be out on the street on a school day.

He'd gone into every one of the little shops many times. He'd even started to get a kick out of all the alien souvenir stuff, which had freaked him out at first. But he didn't feel like hitting them all again. He didn't want to spend any more time under the gray sky than he had to. It gave him the wiggins. That's what Michael called the creepy, pinpricks-on-the-back-of-the-neck feeling-the wiggins.

A bus pulled up to the stop half a block away, and Adam ran for it. He made it just before the doors wheezed closed. "Target again?" the driver asked. Adam gave a sheepish smile. He did go to Target more than anybody else in town. There just wasn't that much to do until school got out, and Target was cool.

When the museum reopens, maybe Michael will let me work there during the day, Adam thought. He could rearrange the molecular structure of his face and body so he looked like an adult. It would be his secret identity-like Clark Kent or Peter Parker. Adam shook his head. Another thought that would crack Michael up.

Except that Michael hadn't been cracking up over anything since Trevor took off with DuPris.

Adam leaned his head against the window and stared at the strip malls and fast-food restaurants. When the bus pulled up at the stop in front of Target, he bolted off and raced across the parking lot so he'd have as little time under the sky as possible.

He felt better the moment he was through the electronic doors. Even the smell was somehow comforting-all different variations of clean and new. Adam headed for the long row of magazines, always his first stop. His gaze was snagged by the words on the cover of a women's magazine: How to Send the Signal That You Want to Be More Than Friends.

He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was watching-even Adam the mole boy had figured out that guys shouldn't be seen reading Cosmo-and found the article as fast as he could. He needed help with the Liz situation because the data he'd gathered so far were somewhat confusing.

Fact: Liz had kissed him. The kiss had been initiated by her. This was good.

Fact: Unfortunately, when Liz had initiated the kiss, she'd been in a state of complete emotional chaos. She'd had a fight with her papa that she thought had destroyed their relationship. This was bad.

Fact: The day after Liz had initiated the kiss, she had broken up with Max. This was good.

Fact: Liz had stopped looking Adam in the eye. This was bad.

Fact: Liz had almost stopped looking Max in the eye. Adam wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

Adam started reading the article, hoping for some kind of guidance. "Try a red slip or bra," the article suggested. "A flash of red underwear sends a major I'm-looking-for-some-lovin' signal."

He quickly skipped to the second recommendation. "Try dropping something, and take just a few seconds too long when you bend over to pick it up. It's obvious, but guys are dense, so obvious is often necessary."

There was no way this was going to help him figure out if Liz was or could ever be the slightest bit interested in him in a boyfriend kind of way. Adam slapped the magazine shut and stuck it back on the rack. He tried to push out of his mind the image of Liz Ortecho in silky red underwear that set off her dark skin. It didn't feel right to think of her that way.

He quickly headed away from the magazines. His footsteps slowed as he spotted one of the toy aisles out of the corner of his eye. Adam knew he was way too old for toys. He knew that getting caught playing with toys in Target was higher on the humiliation scale than getting caught looking at Cosmo. But he'd never gotten to play with toys in the compound. Dad Valenti-Adam still cringed when he thought about how he'd grown up thinking Valenti was actually his father-had decided that toys distracted Adam too much from the experiments evaluating his powers.

Adam's brain kept telling him that someone who should be in high school couldn't play with toys, but his feet turned toward them, anyway, and in a few seconds he was sitting on the floor with a remote-controlled robot. He fiddled with the controls until he'd managed to get the robot to march to the end of the aisle and around the corner. He wanted to see if he could get it to circle all the way back to him.

He scooted around so he was facing the direction from which the robot should appear. It didn't.

"The cow says… moo," an electronic voice a

"Do you see a robot over there?" Adam asked. He figured it had to be a little kid playing with the animal toy, so Adam didn't think he had to be too embarrassed.

The little kid didn't answer. The robot didn't appear. "The sheep says… baa," the electronic voice stated.

Adam shoved himself to his feet and trotted around to the next aisle. What he saw stopped him cold. Max Evans was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the aisle, holding a brightly colored plastic toy.

"Max!" Adam exclaimed once he got over the surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Max pulled the string on the toy in his hand. "The duck says… quack," the electronic voice said.

Adam hurried over and crouched next to Max. His eyes had that unfocused look they got when he'd made a deep co