I shook my head, my muscles tensing. “Not possible. You guys are crazy.” But even as I protested, my skin began to crawl. Was that why I’d had the weird flashes of knowledge all my life?
I pushed away the ache in my stomach and tried to focus on Dad again.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, his eyes shifting away. “When we saw how smart you were, we also realized what that would mean for you. We wanted you to have a normal childhood, to fit in and experience life as an ordinary kid instead of as a guinea pig. And that required some drastic measures. We needed to protect you. That’s why we did it.”
I stared at him. “Did what?”
“We had to make you average.”
“Average?” I barely had to work at school and was still near the top of my class. If this was me at average, what exactly was I?
Mom grabbed her purse off the table and pulled out my bottle of ADHD meds. They rattled as she set them on the counter, and something clicked in my brain. Something that sucked the air from my lungs.
“Oh my god. Those aren’t ADHD drugs, are they?” It felt like I was trying to inhale razor blades as the panic attack started to take hold. “What did you do to me?”
Dad put his hand on mine and tried to squeeze, but I jerked out of his grasp. The last thing I wanted was that lying ass**le to touch me.
He frowned and slid his hands to his lap. “We had to mask some of your intelligence. These drugs altered the neuron chains in your brain so not all of them fired. It was enough to slow down some of your thinking, to help you fit in more.”
The room spun, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Everything went fuzzy around me until I could only feel my jagged breathing, hear the blood pounding in my ears.
This was not happening.
My own parents have been drugging me to make me stupid.
Nausea roiled in my stomach, and I tried not to puke as I shoved my chair away from the table. The legs screamed against the ceramic tile of the floor as I jumped to my feet. It was almost as loud as the scream that came out of my mouth. “Drugging me? You drugged me to keep me normal? I’ve been on those meds since I was five!”
I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to hold myself together. Trying to stop my heart from clawing through my chest.
“Honey, I’m so sorry.” Mom’s voice broke, and she swallowed. “There was no other way.”
Mom took a step toward me, looking like she wanted to hug me, but I threw up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t you lay a finger on me,” I snarled. If she touched me right now, I’d break. “You’re going to stand there and tell me there was no other way besides messing with my brain? That’s bullshit!” I slammed my hand down on the table, too furious to even feel the fire that shot through my palm.
“Watch your language!”
I glared at her. “Don’t ‘language’ me! You’ve lied to me my entire life! I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
Fury. Betrayal. Disappointment. They all swirled through me, forming a ball in my chest so big I could barely catch my breath.
What could I have done — what could I have been — if I’d never been given those drugs? Everything in my life belonged to some other girl. Some other Lexie with a different brain.
No wonder I’d never felt like I’d fit in at school, like my mind had never functioned quite right. All the fogginess, all the strange flashes of knowledge. Things I never should have known.
It was all their fault.
“Why are you telling me this now?” My raspy voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. Somewhere else.
Mom met my gaze, her lips thinning before she spoke. “We don’t think the pills are working any more. Those headaches you’re getting? We think your brain is resetting itself.”
“So what?” I willed myself to stand still instead of running to my room and slamming the door. I needed them to tell me the truth, to tell me what was so horrible about me that they felt the need to literally change who I was.
Dad shifted in his chair and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Now that the medication isn’t working, we want to make this right. You’re moving here to Tennessee. You’re going to live with me and go to Quantum High where you can be accepted for your intelligence.”
I blinked at him, shock pushing away the hurt and betrayal for a moment. “There’s no way in hell that’s happening. I am not moving here to live with you. My friends, my school, my life is in Ohio. You can’t do this to me!” My voice rose to a screech.
Mom twisted the towel even tighter but shook her head. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you’re feeling angry right now, and you have every right to be. But you have to know we’re doing this because we love you and want to protect you.”
“And you couldn’t have found another way to protect me besides drugging me into stupidity? Yanking me from my home? Lying to me?” I could barely stand to look at either of them, all remorseful and weepy. I turned and stared down the hallway, trying to stop my body from trembling. I was such a messed up mix of emotions I didn’t even know how to feel.
Screw this. I did know how to feel. Pissed off.
I whirled on my heel and glared at both of them. “I hate you. I hate what you’ve done. I hate that you lied to me. I don’t care what your reasons were or what lies you’re still telling, but I am done. I’m not living with people who’d lie to me or a father who’d rather spend time with a microscope than his own family.”
“Lexie!”
Mom’s shocked gasp almost made me feel guilty, but I shook it off. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought we were all being honest in this caring-and-sharing session.”
Dad put his hand on Mom’s arm. “It’s fine, Maria. She has every right to hate us.”
Rage surged through me again at the patient tone of his voice. Of course, he was calm. His parents hadn’t just messed with his entire life. “Wow, it’s like you’re a rocket scientist or something! Yes. I do have every right to hate you. And trust me, I do.”
Mom’s breath hitched, and she turned away to stare out the window over the sink. Her shoulders trembled, but I gritted my teeth. Her betrayal hurt even worse than Dad’s. We’d been a team. I’d trusted her.
She’d lied to me about everything.
The shock of it made the room spin again, and I threw out a hand to steady myself against the wall. Dad stood helplessly in the middle of the kitchen, glancing between the two of us. His face was as pale as marble, and the lines around his eyes looked like they were carved into his skin.