Page 3 of Ordinary Secrets (Secrets Trilogy #1)

3

TREY

In the back lot of the Soul House, I pull my car up next to Kevin’s.

“Thanks again for taking me out for sushi, guys,” Kevin says as he pops his door open. “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, Kev,” Liz says, waving one of her gloved hands. “See ya tomorrow.”

I wave too. “See ya, bro.”

The second Kevin is in his car and has driven away, Liz turns in her seat to face me. I already know what she’s gonna say. “Oh my god, T. Please tell me you got a reading off that Ari girl.”

“Nope. Did you?” I know this answer too. Why else would she be asking?

“I couldn’t smell her at all!” Liz clasps a hand against her temple.

The way she describes her mind power, the first of three powers all Zordis are born with, is weird. I guess, simply put, “smelling people’s souls” is exactly what her mind power does.

Whenever Liz gets within an arm’s reach of a person, her mind senses the quality of their soul and interprets it into a scent. If a person’s soul is good, they could smell like freshly baked muffins or blooming flowers in a field. If a person’s soul is bad, they could smell like sewage or a two-week-old corpse.

“I feel better now that I know it wasn’t just me. Pense que me estaba volviendo loca.” I thought I was going crazy.

“You’re not going crazy,” I say, underutilizing my conversational Spanish skills. I don’t practice the language enough with her. The only time I speak Spanish to Liz is when I want to say something I don’t want the rest of the band knowing.

I press the button to turn my engine off since it seems like Liz and I might be here for a while. “If you could smell her soul, what do you think it would smell like?”

“She seemed like a good person, so probably something like an apple cinnamon pie straight out of the oven, or maybe some flowers.”

Liz is probably right about the flowers. Maybe Arella’s soul would smell like lavender. I guess we’ll never know.

Liz says that my soul smells like roasted marshmallows on a campfire and the wick of a burning candle. What’s interesting about her mind power is that it gives her the ability to guess a Zordi’s elemental power, our second gift. Within seconds of meeting me, she knew my element was Fire.

“Do you think it’s possible she doesn’t have a scent?” I ask.

“Do you think it’s possible she doesn’t have any emotions?” Liz makes a good point. “Everyone’s got a soul, T. Unless they’re dead, and Ari looked very much alive to me. I thought about it during dinner and thought maybe her soul is neutral. Now that I know you couldn’t sense her either, I don’t think that’s the case.” With a jolt, Liz gasps. “What if she’s a robot?”

Not missing a beat, I fake the same big gasp. “What if she’s part of an alien invasion team that’s scoping out our planet to strategize the best time to attack? You can’t smell alien souls, can you?”

With an eye roll, she smacks my arm.

I rub the spot she hit, pretending like it stung. “In all seriousness, do you think if you took your gloves off and shook hands with her, you’d catch a memory?”

“I dunno, but I’m not willing to test that.”

A body power is the third and final gift every Zordi is born with. Liz’s allows her to see people’s memories. She calls this gift more of a curse because she can only see a person’s most painful memory—the one that haunts them and tears them apart inside.

Thankfully, her gloves act like a barrier, but they don’t keep the terrible memories she’s already caught from replaying in her head at night. Because of that, Liz can’t stay asleep for long. She always lurches awake, screaming from the scenes playing out on the back of her eyelids like a private horror movie.

If given the opportunity to trade my body power of telekinesis with Liz’s of memory catching, I’d do it. I wouldn’t even think twice about it. Liz deserves to be saved from the agony of living through everyone else’s suffering night after night, and I’d gladly volunteer.

Unfortunately, trading powers isn’t a thing, so I do my best to help Liz feel comfortable in other ways—everything from letting her cry on my shoulder to shutting people down whenever they get a little too curious about her gloves.

When I first met Liz four years ago, she claimed she wore gloves because she’s a germaphobe. I knew it was a lie, but I didn’t care enough to interrogate her. It didn’t change that she needed a dance partner to enter a competition with. I was taking dance lessons at the studio Liz still works at when my instructor recommended me to her.

For the next few months after that, I met with Liz at the studio to help her choreograph a winning routine. One day, she hadn’t put her gloves on yet, and I accidentally grazed my hand against hers. She froze, and her terror shot through my body like an arrow through the heart.

It all happened so fast. One second, her eyes were screwed shut with a pained look on her face. The next, she let out a sharp gasp and erupted into tears.

Because many mind and body powers are viewed as intrusive or dangerous, it’s part of Zordi culture to keep that information private. Elemental powers are widely discussed, though, since everyone has one of four: Fire, Water, Earth or Air. That’s why I didn’t know that Liz was a Memory Catcher. It’s also why I didn’t understand her suddenly crying for no reason.

My uncomfortable response was “You okay?”

“Trey . . . you—you were there.”

“I was where?”

Without hesitation, she explained what her hands could do. “You told me your parents died. You didn’t tell me that it was because of something traumatic or that you witnessed the whole thing happen.”

I blew up at her. “You crossed a fucking line! Using your body power on me like that? Really? Find yourself a new dance partner for your stupid competition. I quit!”

I hurled all my things back into my backpack and stormed out of that studio without any intention of ever returning.

Liz ran after me, unwilling to let me leave. I was unwilling to hear her out.

“I’m so sorry, Trey. I didn’t mean to. Your memory came to me when our hands touched. I can’t control it. Trust me, if I could choose, I’d rather be an Ordinary.”

I was already halfway to my car when I froze right there in the parking lot. I understand what it’s like to not have control of your powers. Often, I’ve wished to be an Ordinary too. It’s common for Zordis to long for better powers. What’s uncommon is for us to long to be completely powerless. The moment Liz said those words through tears, it hit me that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t alone.

Fuming a little less, I allowed her to talk me into staying. That night, instead of dancing, we had a lengthy heart-to-heart conversation—a form of torture for me.

“I’m sorry I got angry,” I said, apologizing for the tenth time. I felt like an asshole for yelling at her the way I had. “It’s just that...”

“You don’t have to explain,” Liz said when I couldn’t find the words. “I’m glad I saw your memory—for your sake.”

“How’s that for my sake?”

“It’ll be good for you to have someone to confide in. Someone who understands you. Now I know why you’re so closed off.”

That last comment didn’t make me feel any better. I am fully aware that I shut down the second anyone asks me a personal question, but to hear Liz verbalize it? I felt called out. I had half a mind to walk out again.

“I’ll make it even with you,” she said. “I can tell you about something that kills me deeply too.”

So, she did, even after I told her it wasn’t necessary. She told me all about the most disturbing memories she’d caught over the years and how they still affect her. She even shared some of her own dark memories—of things she’s experienced herself.

I listened in awe of her every word, mostly in awe of her. I’d had no idea how much agony hid behind those bright smiles and cheery hugs. Liz had fooled me into thinking her happiness came easy.

Looking back on it now, I realize that Liz told me all those dark things because she needed someone to confide in too. Before me, she never had anyone she could share that pain with. No one had ever wanted to share it, especially not her family. There she was, carrying the weight of all those distressing memories on her own two shoulders, and I was more than happy to help her carry that burden. I still am.

If everyone knew all the shit Liz has been through, they’d have as much respect for her as I do. Liz has the kindest, most caring and understanding soul I’ve ever known. For that, I will protect her at all costs.

“Why do you think our gifts didn’t work on Ari?” Liz asks, drawing my attention back to her.

“I’m not sure,” I say. But I’m gonna find out.