The Salvation

NINE

Maria was already sitting at their usual booth at the back of Flying Pepperoni. Michael hesitated, trying to figure out if he should sit next to her or across from her. Next to her there could be some accidental skin-to-skin contact, and he'd definitely pick up the scent of the essential oils she wore. But across from her he'd have to look at her, and-

"Why are we stopping?" Trevor asked from behind him.

"We're not," Michael answered. He strode over to the table and slid onto the leatherette bench across from Maria, figuring it was marginally safer.

He still couldn't believe he'd gone to her house last night after all his mental lectures on the virtues of Operation Cold Turkey. At least he hadn't let himself sit on the bed, managing to utilize that much brain matter. And he hadn't touched her, even though when he'd seen the tears on her cheeks, he'd had this wild impulse to kiss them away and then just kiss her until the kiss became her whole world. And his.

What was wrong with him?

"Now that your entire party is here, would you like to order?" Lucinda Baker asked as she bounced up to their booth.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a party," Maria muttered. She grabbed a bread stick out of the basket and broke it in half with a sharp snap.

"How about a batch of our buffalo chicken wings with our special blue cheese dipping sauce to get you started?" Lucinda continued cheerily.

"Lucinda, check the lost and found. I think I saw your pod in there," Maria said, crunching into the bread stick.

Lucinda lowered her voice. "The district manager is here today. And I'm supposed to be a-" She pointed to her big, yellow, I'm-a-happy-waitress button. "I'm also supposed to use my happy, peppy charm to get people to order apps. If you do, I swear I'll pay you back for them at school tomorrow. I'm teetering on the brink of unemployment here." Lucinda raised her voice again and stood up ramrod straight. "Or maybe you'd like to try our supercrunchy mozzarella sticks. They're yum-my!"

"Fried cheese." Maria shook her head with a grimace. "Is it just me, or is there something obscene about the whole concept of fried cheese?" She shot an evil glance at Michael, as if he was the inventor of the mozzarella stick. Clearly if Maria was wearing a button right now, the words I'm a happy would not be anywhere on it.

"We'll take the wings," Michael said, avoiding Maria's gaze. "And a medium pie, one-third veggie, two-thirds meatball and pineapple. One mineral water, one Lime Warp-" He looked at Trevor.

"Orange soda," Trevor said.

"You got it!" Lucinda cried, and rushed off.

"Thanks for asking what I wanted," Maria muttered.

Michael wanted to yell at her to speak up if she expected a response. Instead he tried to be rational since she was obviously incapable.

"Maria, we've eaten here one billion times," Michael said, pulling a napkin out of the dispenser and starting to shred it in front of him. "One billion times you've eaten veggie pizza. What is the problem?"

"The problem is just because you're a guy, you think you get to make all the decisions about everything," she shot back, her eyes as bright as blue flames.

"This has nothing to do with being a guy-" Michael began, shredding faster.

Trevor cleared his throat and leaned forward in his seat. "Can we talk about our nonexistent backup plan?"

Maria ignored him. "You know I'm a vegetarian, and yet you still went ahead and ordered chicken wings," she said accusatorily.

"What? You wanted the pornographic fried cheese?" Michael demanded in a whisper.

"Obscene," Maria muttered, seeming to have forgotten how to speak in any other ma

"When I was with DuPris, he made me watch all these old sitcoms," Trevor interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. "There was one where, I think it was Bobby and Peter, drew a line down the middle of their room. And then there was one where the Skipper and Gilligan drew a line down the middle of their hut. There was also one where Grandpa and Herman drew a line down-"

"Excuse me, but what the hell are you talking about?" Michael exploded, ripping the last of the napkin in half.

"I was thinking that maybe if I drew a line down the center of the table, and we said that half was yours and half was Maria's, then we could start working on a plan, which is why we're all here," Trevor explained, clearly irritated.

"I didn't do anything," Michael muttered, flopping back in his seat. Little pieces of napkin fluttered to the floor, and he just watched them.

"Yeah, right," Maria muttered, flopping in the exact same way.

"Max," Trevor said. He laid his hands flat on the table and looked back and forth at the two of them. "Max Evans. Your friend. That's why we're here, remember?"

Michael shoved his hands through his hair. Trevor was right. Time they wasted now could endanger Max later. And arguing with Maria was definitely a waste of time.

"So, what did we learn with our last, massively failed plan?" he asked.

"That co

"We also know that when we co

"So basically, we have squat." Michael dropped his head back on the booth and waited while Lucinda deposited the drinks and wings on the table. "Maybe we're going to have to go with DuPris's plan after all," he said when she was out of earshot again.

"But that means killing all those i

"None of us want that," Trevor said, taking a sip of his soda. "But it's starting to look like it might be the only way. So much death to save one life-even Max's life-would be unthinkable. But this isn't only about Max. The consciousness must be shattered for every being that is fighting for the right to an individual life."

"If it comes to that, you won't have to do it alone," Michael told Trevor. His heart was pounding with fear, but he meant every word he said. "I'll go through the wormhole with you and help you lead the squadron on the mission to capture the other Stone."

Maria made a gasping, gurgling sound but didn't say anything. Michael got very busy pouring some sugar into the blue cheese sauce and stirring it with his finger so he wouldn't have to look at her.

He dipped a wing in the blue-cheese-and-sugar mixture, then took a bite, but he could hardly taste it because he could feel Maria's eyes on him. Reluctantly he looked up at her. God, her face was so pale-which made her raspberry lips look even more raspberryish. Even from across the table he could see how tense the muscles in her neck were. He wanted to reach over and smooth the knots out with his fingers, and-

"I have to take a leak," Michael blurted suddenly. And then he bolted. Ate one bite of a wing, and I turned into a total chicken, he thought, disgusted with himself for ru

Michael glared at himself in the nearest grungy mirror. "Face the truth. The tapering off, the Operation Cold Turkey, it wasn't just for Maria's sake. It was for yours, too. And you totally blew it last night. Now leave the girl alone. Stop even thinking about her, especially thinking about anything that involves touching."

Michael paced in a tight circle, then returned to his position in front of the mirror. "The way you feel about Maria-that's not a reason to give up the biggest dream of your life. It's not a reason to blow off helping to rebuild a freakin' world. It's what your parents would have wanted. You and Trevor, continuing their work together."