Charged~ Electric Book One
Chapter Three~ Accident

I give the guitar astrum, getting a feel for it. A tiny squeak of feedback tears through thespeakers as I adjust the microphone to my height. Behind me, Brie gives thedrums a spin. She taps out the beat to our first song, and instincts take over.We get through three songs without incident. When we’re done, I’m surprised bythe cheers in the crowd.

The band playing theparty made their way to the edge of the make-shift stage as we played. He pullsBrie aside, but I can’t hear over the noise. Mason picks me up in a bear hug,spinning me around. “You guys rocked it!” He has to yell in my ear.

“Thanks!” I yell back.I motion that I need a drink, so navigates through the crowd towards the patio.

Brie comes rushing overas I chug a bottle of water. “They want us to try opening for them at theirnext show next weekend. What do you say?”

I feel a slight twingeof guilt for going behind our manager’s back, but this is far too good of an opportunityto pass up. “Definitely!” I grin.

Brie takes offexcitedly, to give our confirmation to the band. Mason tugs my hand. “Let’s goenjoy the rest of your party.” I follow him back out to the dance floor.

“You know it was a goodparty when the mess after it is thisbad.” Brie only half-complains; I can tell she’s thrilled with how it turnedout.

Mason pipes in, “Isn’tthere some kind of rule against cleaning up after your own birthday party?” Heshoots a look at the garbage in my hands, destined for the bag at his feet.“Shouldn’t you go sit down or something?”

I give him a wry smile.“Actually, I think the rule is you can’t nothelp clean up when your best friend throws you the most awesome party ever.”Brie grins.

“Yup,” She looks atMason. “And this is how we roll, so you better get used to it.”

“Okay, okay,” Masongrabs another round of garbage. “I’m no fool. I can see when I’m outnumbered.And you’re right, Kat, I was looking at it from the wrong angle, I guess.”

“No worries,” I tellhim.

“Yeah, we take somegetting used to.” Brie adds, jokingly.

“Ain’t that the truth,”Uncle Joe pipes in. “Listen, why don’t you guys leave this and come backtomorrow to finish. It’s late.”

Brie eyes her uncle,“Is this so you can go to sleep, or so we can?”

Uncle Joe looks alittle sheepish. “So I can get to bed.” He admits. “I can’t party like I usedto. I’m whooped.”

“Fine, fine!” Brietells him. “We’ll let the old man go to bed.” She softens the insult with akiss on his cheek. “Thanks again, Uncle Joe. We’ll be back early tomorrowafternoon to finish.”

I give him a kiss onthe cheek, too. “Thanks for the venue, Uncle Joe. It rocked.”

“Yeah, thanks. And itwas nice meeting you.” Mason shakes his hand.

“You, too.” Uncle Joewalks us to the car. “Stay out of trouble, ya hear.”

We all agree at onceand begin the trek back home. I’m spending the night at Brie’s, so we dropMason off at his house. Brie tolerates our parting kiss for a few minutesbefore she starts making gagging noises. I promise to text Mason when we get toBrie’s before we go. Brie turns the music on, but not loud enough to beobnoxious during this early morning hour.

Upon arriving atBrie’s, we crash. Brie’s still snoring gently when I awaken. I quietly make myway to the bathroom, giving Brie’s mom’s room a wide berth. I’m in no mood forfreaky porcelain clowns, thank you. I make it safely back to Brie’s room,without any clown incidents.

Grabbing my phone, Isee no new texts, so Mason must still be sleeping, too. I grab my bag andbravely make my way back to the bathroom. I take a shower while I’m waiting.When finished, I wake up Brie and text Mason. We still have a lot of cleaningup to do at Uncle Joe’s. I head to the kitchen to start breakfast, knowing fromyears of experience to stay out of Brie’s way for at least a half-hour.

Sure enough, movementfrom the direction of Brie’s room. I start some coffee and fry up some baconand eggs. By the time it’s done Brie has stumbled in. She makes herself a cupof coffee and then looks at me. “Good morning.” She’s still grumpy.

I smile. “Good morning,sunshine.”

She sticks her tongueout at me. “You’re all dressed and everything, huh? You could’ve woken me.”

I give her a levellook.

“Okay, maybe not.” Sheconcedes. “I guess you know better by now.”

“You think?” I smirk ather. “I like all of my extremities, thanks.” This at least gets a chucklebefore she digs into her bacon and eggs. I glance at the clock. “What time arewe going for cleanup duty?”

She shrugs. “Soon, Idon’t want to be doing it all day.” I nod while chewing my own food. “What doyou want to do tonight?”

“We have schooltomorrow.” I remind her, “So nothing too outrageous.”

“How about a movie?”

I grin. We both lovethe same movies, so I know her answer before I even ask the question, “The newzombie movie?”

“Oh, yeah,” she grinsback, and then sighs. “And you might as well call Mason. I know you’re dyingto. Tell him about tonight, too.”

“You are a really greatbest friend, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Monday morning Brie andI replace that the entire junior and senior classes are still raving about ourparty. I’m hoping this dies down soon. By Wednesday, the news that we areperforming this weekend with the band from my party has made its way throughthe school. I’m glad for the publicity, but as per my usual MO, I try to pushit to the back of my mind. No easy feat when someone brings it up every thirtyseconds. Brie is just plain ecstatic about the show and the hype it’s getting,and Mason is really excited for us.

Friday night replaces usunloading Brie’s mom’s station wagon, again. I had gotten my permit on Mondayafter school, but my car is still off limits until I’m fully licensed. We couldnever fit all of our equipment into it anyway, I suppose.

Mason makes our setupso much easier than usual. Even Brie is impressed with his dedication to ourlittle band. So far, all of my fears about having the two of them not gettingalong have gone unfounded. It makes me happy that they get along so well.

I try not to thinkabout having my mom meet Mason. I’ve already told her all about him, andvice-versa. I’ve also begged her not to embarrass me. She promised to try, sowe are having an official meet the mom Sunday dinner. I’m keeping my fingerscrossed. Hopefully, she does not get into her whole ‘you fell for the boy nextdoor’ spiel. I’ve been hearing it all week.

I force myself back tothe present. The almost too hip (but not) coffee shop has a nice vibe. Brie isbusy with her wires while I tune my guitar. We’re up first, and the place ispacked. I’m surprised that so many of our classmates showed up. It makes mefeel good until I spot Kiera’s group. I don’t know why they came, except maybehoping we screw up, so they can never let us live it down.

I see the manager andBrie talking. She holds up her hand, indicating we have five minutes. Masongives me a quick kiss for good luck, then makes his way to the front of thelittle stage. Brie gives me a thumbs up before settling behind her drums. Iknow this means we’re wired, completely live. I take a deep breath and wait forher to start.

Mason suddenly is nextto me again. An acoustic guitar’s in place of my electric one. I shoot Brie adirty look. They don’t play fair. This means we’re leading with our slow song.She just shrugs, and Mason has disappeared. No doubt they planned this.

Brie taps out the beat.It’s time to either start singing or throw a fit. I decide to sing: pluckingand strumming the guitar, enjoying the softness of it with the song. As I hitthe last bar, I cringe inwardly and wait for the crowd’s reaction. It takes asecond, but then they roar in applause. I smile. I can’t help it.

Mason is back, with myelectric guitar, and he looks a little sheepish. Shaking my head minutely, Ismile so he knows we’re good.

Out of the corner of myeye, I see Kiera and Shelby walking out from the backstage area, on the side ofthe stage. No doubt that they had lost all hope of us embarrassing ourselvesand decided to go flirt with the other band. I turn my attention back to thecrowd (no time to wonder what they’re up to now) and focus as Brie begins thefast, complicated beat to our next song.

As I strike the firstchord, something is off. Before I can place it, I hit the next chord, andsuddenly I’m flying through the air, my body pulsating. That’s what it is.Someone must have plugged my guitar into the wrong amp! When I hit the powerfulchord, the amp blew up. This thought is cut off by my harsh impact with firstthe wall, then the stage floor.

I still feelelectricity pulsing through me. It’s painful, but mostly I wonder how I’m stillconscious. I will never make jokes about an electric chair again—not that Iever have before. Through the pain, I see Mason being held back by the manager.He’s trying to help me, but with the electricity still coursing through me,it’s too dangerous. A few feet from me, Brie is sitting on the floor. She’sdazed after being thrown by the explosion. She looks at me, realizes what’shappening, and takes off towards the equipment. A few seconds later, the painand electricity mercifully stop. Unable to move momentarily, I just sit there.Then I rip the smoldering guitar strap from my head, throwing what’s left of mybeloved guitar on the ground next to me like a venomous snake.

“Kat!” The managerreleases Mason, and he’s by my side in seconds. “Are you alright?”

“Kat,” Brie is rightbehind him. “Omigod, are you okay?”

My head is fuzzy, likean old TV that needs to be smacked. I nod, unable to articulate anything else.

The manager runs over.“I’ve called 911; an ambulance is on its way.” He looks down at me. “Youprobably shouldn’t move until they get here.”

I nod again. Thefuzziness is making it hard to focus. For a second, I note that the place isnow empty, but then I’m distracted as the fuzz begins to dissipate into a tinglingthat’s running all over my body.

It’s not a completelycomfortable feeling, but it’s not quite painful either. Mostly, it’s justannoying, but I’ll take it, because my head feels better, and now I can sort ofthink and focus.

The first question thatpops into my mind is directed at Brie. “What the hell happened?”

“Some idiot switchedthe cords from your amp to the bass amp from the other band. It blew when itcouldn’t take it.” Brie explains.

Mason looks pissed.I’ve never seen him pissed off before. It’s kind of hot. Oh yeah, I shake myhead, trying to focus. “Was it an accident, or intentional?” Mason asks her.

“It could have beeneither.” Brie frowns and looks at me again. “Are you okay?” She repeats.

Both of them look at meintently. “I think so. I feel really weird.”

They share a look.Before I can ask them what it was for, an EMT rushes in. The next hour ischaos. Brie, Mason and the manger explain what happened to the police that havearrived. I insist Brie gets checked out too, since she was also onstage when ithappened. Then I’m stuck playing twenty questions with my own EMT. They take usto the hospital: Brie in her own ambulance and Mason somehow manages toconvince the EMT to let him ride in mine. I call my mom to meet us there. She’sfreaking out. Brie makes the manager promise to lock all of our equipment inhis office for the night. My body still tingles.

The emergency roomisn’t very private—with only curtains separating the beds. I have Mason pullall the curtains except the ones between my bed and Brie’s, so we’re alltogether. I can tell when our moms arrive, almost simultaneously, by the flurryof activity they create.

They do their concernedmom thing. When my mom calms down, I introduce her and Mason. If anything goodcame from this, at least she’s too distracted to embarrass me. They hook me upto a ton of machines. I can’t help but notice that Brie is machine free. Ifrown at this.

Before I have a chanceto say anything about it, the ER doctor makes his way over to us. It’s not untilhe pulls my mom aside that I really start to worry. This can’t be good.

The doctor and my momcome back, but he focuses his attention on Brie. “We’re going to release you.Other than some minor bumps and bruises, you were very lucky. Take it easy fora couple of days, you’ll probably feel worse tomorrow than you do now.” Hecontinues on with some more instructions, before he turns his attention to me.“Katarina,” I cringe at my full name, “you are going to be our guest tonight.We want to keep you for observation. You took quite a jolt of electricity andwe want to be sure there won’t be any residual effects.”

I pout. Sure, I’mtingly, but I’m fine and I just want to go home. My mom is on it before acomplaint can leave my lips. “It’s just for one night, Kat. I can stay with youif you want.”

Mason chimes in. “Or Ican. I already called my mom. She says to feel better.”

My mom’s eyebrows shootway up. I give her a level look. It’s not like we’d be unsupervised, what withall the doctors, nurses—her coworkers no less. She must realize this also,because, to my surprise, she answers quickly. “I guess that’s alright. I’ll beback in the morning?”

My head is answeringyes before my mouth can. “Love you, mom.”

She kisses my head.“Love you, too, Kat. Call me if you need anything.”She gives Brie and her mom a hug before saying goodbye. I see her stop and talkwith the doctor again. Obviously satisfied, she gives one more wave, thenleaves.

Brie stays until theymove me up to my room. I promise to call her first thing in the morning. Shelooks a little guilty leaving without me.

Mason stays right by myside, even when he has to cram his body into the corner of the elevator, toaccommodate the rolling bed they insist I stay in. I guess I can crossembarassment off of our relationship list. I can’t think of much worse thanthis.

Finally they get us ina room. It’s a double bed but no one is occupying it, basically leaving theroom for me and Mason. I look at him. “This sucks.” I state the obvious.

“You get zapped by somelarge, unknown amount of electricity, and you’re complaining about a hospitalstay?” He shakes his head. “Frankly, I don’t think this sucks anywhere near asmuch as watching you get hurt.”

I consider this, and Ican see his perspective, so I acquiesce. “Fine, you win.” I soften a little.“Thank you for staying, I mean.”

He doesn’t meet my gazeas he answers. “It’s as much for me as it is for you. It scared me, seeing youlike that.”

“I wish I knew whathappened.” A memory vaguely pulls at me. I try to recall it, but it slips away.

“Me, too.” He answers.“I-“

He’s cut off by a nurseentering. She fidgets with a machine then looks sternly at us. “You need rest.”She points to me. “You may as well lie down over there.” She motions Mason tothe empty bed next to me, and then leaves, shutting off all but the light nextto my bed.

“I guess this isgoodnight then.” Mason plops down on the other bed.

“Goodnight, Mason.” Iwhisper, watching him fall asleep quickly.

I’m not so lucky in thesleep department. My body is still tingling, and it’s hard to get comfortablemuch less fall asleep. I suppose I could call the nurse and ask for something,but I really don’t want to.

So I begin countingceiling tiles and replaying tonight’s events in my mind. I stop when I recallsomething. Something right before the explosion occurred.

There’s no way I wouldvocalize this thought to anyone (even Brie or Mason without real proof) becauseof the severity of it. But I recall, almost perfectly, Kiera and Shelby walkingaway from where all of the equipment is set up. I remember my confusion. Well,I’m not confused anymore.

First, I’m pissed. Butas that wanes, I realize how serious it would be to bring the allegations in mythoughts to the attention of anyone else. I’d be accusing them of a crime. Icertainly don’t have anything to go on, other than seeing them and a hunch. Idecide to keep this to myself, for now.

Mason’s snoring isoddly comforting. I angle myself slightly in my bed, as best I can with all ofthe wires attached to me, so I can see him better. He’s still gorgeous, but inrest he has a peacefulness about him that lies dormant when he’s awake. Or,maybe it’s just that he dazzles me when he’s awake, and the last thing I feel is peaceful.

This is the first realchance I’ve had to study him without having to worry about my appearance. He’sin need of a haircut; his dark hair is longer than when we first met. A fewwayward strands hang into his eyes. If I was closer to him, I would brush themoff of his forehead. My gaze travels the length of his face: his straightroman-inspired nose and his strong jaw contrasting it. I know when his eyesopen, I will get lost in their blue depths.

Part of me, albeit asmall part now, is still waiting to wake up from the dream that is Mason. I’mwell over the shock that he likes me, but not only is he great looking;he’s also smart, funny, kind, and sweet. Pretty much perfect, for meanyway…like he was made just to be mine.

My thoughts areinterrupted when the door opens and another nurse quietly walks in. She makesher way over to my side of the room, checking all the machines on her way.“Can’t sleep, honey?” Oh, she’s much nicer than the last nurse. I shake my headno. “I’ll go get something for you.”

I don’t turn her downas she walks out of the room. I know I should be tired. I’m just not.Typically, sleep and I don’t have any problems. I wonder vaguely if thetingling feeling still coursing throughout me has anything to do with mysleeplessness when the door opens and the nice nurse re-enters, a small cup ineach of her hands. “Take these, honey, and you’ll fall asleep soon.”

I comply and thank herbefore she leaves again. I resume counting ceiling tiles, but don’t get veryfar before the pills kick in and I drift off into a medicated haze.

They release me thenext day, but not before I catch snippets of whispered conversations between mymother and the doctor. Phrases like ‘should have been killed’ and‘unexplainable’ float in. I can tell by the looks Mason gives me that he’soverheard, too. I was very lucky, considering the amount of electricity theyfigure I was shocked with. I still feel tingly and almost…charged, with nervousenergy. But besides that, never better.

It’s a relief to gethome. Mason and my mom insist I rest, but I hold my ground and demand a showerfirst. I need to wash the hospital smell off of me. My mom insists Mason gohome for an hour or so also, so she can start the dinner that she is stilldetermined to make. Mason gives me a chaste kiss before he crosses the backyardto his own house.

While standing underthe hot water helps, it seems to increase the tingling sensation just under myskin.

I reach for my shampoo,only half looking at my hand and for just a split second I can swear my hand isglowing. I pause in mid grab and examine my outstretched hand. I give my head asmall shake and grumble to myself about overactive imaginations, when I veryplainly see a distinct shimmer glimpse over my hand and travel up my arm. What in the hell is that?

I wash my hair and finishmy shower. Unsure exactly what to do and perhaps in a state of shock, I get outand towel off. The creepy shimmer has vanished. Shrugging, I chalk it up to paranoiaand reach for my comb.

I keep my comb abovethe sink, and as I reach for it, my hand passes next to the electrical outleton the wall. A loud spark of electricity jumps from the small slots of thesocket and into my arm. I jump back: scared, then confused because it doesn’thurt.

Unsure if it’s the bestmove to make, I slowly reach out for the comb again. This time, I’m expectingthe shock, and I don’t get scared or jump away when it comes. It still doesn’thurt, and the closer I get, the steadier the shock gets until I can see thecrackle transferring between the wall and my hand. The tingling under my skinfeels supercharged like insane pins and needles. It begins to getuncomfortable, so I quickly snatch up my comb and pull my hand back.

Disturbed, I bring mycomb to my room and get dressed. When done I sit at the edge of my bed. I studymy hands again, looking at my palms for another shimmer—anything to confirm mysanity. As I study the backs of my hands for any anomalies, I see and feel apowerful current of electricity run between them. My eyebrows shoot to the topof my head, and I know in my heart that this is not normal.

A knock on my doorlowers my hands and shakes me from my newfound freakiness. My mom pops her headthrough the door before I answer.

“How are you feeling?”She asks, looking concerned.

I manage a weak smile.“Better, thanks. The shower helped.”

She chuckles. “Younever did like going to the doctors.”

I shudderinvoluntarily. “Nope, still don’t, either. Do you need help with dinner?”

She shakes her head.“You are supposed to rest. I’ve got the couch set up for you.”

“Thanks, Mom, I’ll bedown in a minute.”

She doesn’t bother toshut the door behind her. I take a few more moments to collect myself, but If Idon’t get downstairs that my mom will come back up to check on me. I don’t wantto worry her. Especially until I figure out if there’s anything to worry about.

A quick glance in themirror confirms that I still look like me. No freaky glowing skin or sparksflying out of my ears. This is comforting. I bank all of the weirdness in therecesses of my mind to think about later. Like when my new boyfriend isn’t coming over to dinner for thefirst time.

When I’m halfway downthe stairs, there’s a knock on the back door. I smile, knowing Mason is here.The door open, my mom and he exchanging pleasantries as I round the corner intothe kitchen.

My mom permits a quickhello before she banishes me to the couch. I can’t really complain, becauseMason is following. As soon as we are no longer in view of the kitchen, hepulls me close and slips his arms around my waist.

“How are you feeling?”He murmurs into my ear; sending a delicious sensation up my spine. “You lookbetter. I was worried about you…even this morning you seemed a bit shaky.”

I gape at himidiotically for a moment before forming a reply. “I feel better, thanks.” I saybreathlessly.

He dips his head andgives me the sweetest kiss I’ve ever had. It’s a good thing he’s supportingmost of my weight, because my legs turn to Jell-O and I actually swoon. I’venever swooned before and my face flushes in embarrassment. From his softchuckle, he has noticed my reaction.

“Maybe we should sit?”He suggests.

“Yeah, that’s probablya good idea.” I lead him to the sofa.

Once we’re settled, Igrab the remote and turn on the TV. I flick randomly through channels, pausingmomentarily when I see the BioNano logo on the news. I turn up the sound andthe female news anchor’s voice fills the room.

“We’ve had the firstofficial medical use of BioNano’s new nanobots and it has been a completesuccess.” The picture changes to a young army man in fatigues, then to the sameman, with one leg. “When Michael lost his leg in service he never dreamed wewould have the technology to regenerate it. Three days ago the BioNano doctorsimplemented their first nonclinical use for regenerating tissue and cells.Today, Michael has his leg again.”

A doctor comes onto thescreen. “Michael’s journey is just beginning. We are able to give him back hisleg, but he will still have to undergo months of physical therapy. So far, hecan wiggle his toes and he’s in high spirits.”

The female voicereturns. “This is history in the making, folks. Stay tuned for last night’ssports scores.” I turn down the volume.

“Wow.” I say. “It’scrazy to see them in action.”

“I know.” Mason agrees.“I mean, I know we were just there and saw most of the theories behind it, butyou’re right: it’s crazy to see them utilize it.”

“I guess it works.” Isay more to myself than to Mason.

He looks at mequizzically. “You really have some serious reservations about them, huh?”

I make a face. “It justseems too freaky, too…chaotic to control, to me anyway. It’s like BioNano isplaying God, but history and science has shown us repeatedly how dangerous andunstable that is. And it seems to be moving so fast. They just grew the guy aleg in three freaking days. It makes me nervous, that’s all.”

“I can see that.” Masonsmiles. My mood automatically lightens, and worries of microscopic robots fleemy mind. I change the channel and replace a funny movie. We spend the rest of thetime laughing until my mom calls us to dinner.

Dinner goessurprisingly smooth. My mom and Mason get along better than I could have everasked for. I just hope they stay that way. My mom refuses any help cleaning up,and since tomorrow is a school day (a school day I plan on attending no matterwhat my mom says) we call it an early night. I’m lying in bed, trying to relaxand go to sleep when I hear my phone go off. Mason texts “goodnight” and itbrings a smile to my lips. I reply with the same, and promise to see him in themorning. Mason occupies my thoughts until I drift off to sleep, much later thanusual.