Together As Mutants (Book Six)

Chapter 40: Searching

Annalise fiddles with her t-phone, reading through some messages from Melanie. She wants to have a video call before they meet in person, so they're trying to figure out something that will work for both of them. Annalise is already juggling school, a part-time job, a social life, and therapy, so trying to squeeze in a video call feels next to impossible. Oh, and it's almost the end of the school year too. When did life get so full?

"So, you excited?" Michelangelo asks.

She looks up at him and he's gazing at her expectantly, sucking down his glass of lemonade. She can't shake how strange it feels to be sitting on a patio, at a café, with her disguised mutant boyfriend. She keeps expecting a cute freckled turtle when she looks at him, not a cute freckled teenage boy with blonde curls.

"This is so good," he says, gazing at his drink with stars in his eyes. He licks his lips. "Awesome!"

"Glad you like it," she says with a tiny smile.

"Mm!" He nods, then his smile falls. "Oh, wait, you didn't answer me."

She purses her lips. "I mean, Melanie seems nice, and if Diaval and Destiny say she's good, then I trust them. I just...don't know if she can help me."

"Why not? She helped Des. She knows about mutants so you don't have to hide stuff."

"I think I'm just nervous."

"That's totally okay, dudette. New things are scary."

"But the therapy thing isn't new. I've got a therapist. I know all the ins and outs but..." She hunches, propping her head on her hand as she turns her phone off and lays it on its face on the table. "Going to a new therapist because I shot a mutant fly? It feels silly."

"It can't hurt to talk to someone. It'll help you with the guilt."

"Yeah, sure, I just..." She fidgets with her fingertips. "What if...it's more complicated than that?" Michelangelo cocks his head like a confused puppy and she sighs. "Like, I hate that it happened. I...I didn't mean to kill him but..."

It feels awful in her mind and even worse in her mouth. She's pretty sure she knows what she feels—she's spent enough time thinking about it when she should have been sleeping—but it doesn't make it any easier to come to grips with.

When she thinks about what brought her to pick up that gun and shoot Stockman, it all boils down to protecting Michelangelo. When she tries to picture a different ending, like if she had the chance to change the past, the only thing she changes is where she aims. Maybe she hits Stockman's arm instead. Maybe his shoulder. Somewhere less vital than what she actually struck.

But she'd still shoot him. She'd shoot him if it meant Michelangelo stayed alive.

That's just...not the most fun thing to grapple with.

"I should just give it a chance," she says with a small sigh. "Sorry for being so weird, Mikey."

"I like your weird. Nothing to be sorry for."

She flushes a little, tucking some loose hair behind her ear. She hears Michelangelo slurping more lemonade, humming to himself happily as he does so, and she props her head on her hand as she glances out at the street.

Then, she frowns.

Near the café is an alleyway, but parked in that alleyway is a white van. At a glance, she doesn't think much of it, but the longer she looks at it, the more her curiosity grows. The license plates are...wrong, almost fake-looking in their randomness, and she can't imagine someone getting vanity plates for a vehicle like that. What's more, there's some kind of logo on the back that she can't read from this distance, but isn't familiar the way logos should be.