Pivot Point Read Online Free PDF Page A

supposed to go in at all today, I’m home very late.” He picks up the padded envelope on the counter and looks at both sides.
    I place my cure-for-insomnia reading on the table. “Oh, that came for you a little while ago.”
    He lowers his brow.
    “What is it?” I ask.
    “Just something I’m consulting on for the Para-bureau.”
    “I thought you weren’t working for them anymore. I thought we were trying out this whole Normal thing.” We’re going to live like the rest of the world, Addie, he had said. It will be refreshing. The words sound cheesy now, but at the time they made me feel like we were marching into battle or something.
    “Well, when I left I said I’d do some side jobs if they needed me.”
    I grab an apple from a bowl on the counter. “You’re gone less than a week, and they’re already calling on you? They must be hurting without their best lie detector.”
    He rolls his eyes.
    I take a bite of my apple. “Sorry, I mean Discerner. I bet the bureau here is happy to have you, though. Where do you work again?” I try to remember the acronym. “The EBI … SBI …”
    “FBI. Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
    “Right. FBI. I guess I should remember that. So are you stickin’ it to all the bad guys? No lies will be told in Dallas ever again.”
    “Funny. My daughter is a comedian. Not to mention surprisingly good at talking with her mouth full.”
    “It’s a gift.”
    He bonks me on the head with the envelope, then opens it. First he pulls out some sort of ID card.
    “What’s that?”
    He turns it toward me. “I left my Compound Clearance card at the office.”
    The holographic logo seems to jump off the surface. It looks exactly like mine except where his says Discerner, mine says Underage. Oh, and of course our pictures are different. I stare at his. If my dad didn’t wear his hair with such a harsh part, slightly off center, he could pull off cool. With a full head of dark hair and a strong jaw, he’s handsome enough. “Dad. Not smart. Are you subconsciously trying to never go back?”
    His jaw tightens then loosens again, which surprises me. It was a joke, but his reaction makes me wonder if there is some truth to the statement. He takes out his wallet from his pocket and tucks the card behind his Norm license, then offers me a smile. “I have it now, so no need to analyze me.” He dumps the envelope upside down and a circular disc inside a clear plastic case slides onto the counter.
    “What’s that?”
    “It’s a DVD.”
    I pick it up. “Oh, I’ve seen these on TV before. It’s so big.” I turn it over in my hand, then set it back on the counter. “I don’t get it; someone sent you an old movie?”
    “No, the Para-bureau transferred the interview onto a DVD because that’s the technology used here, and we’re not allowed Compound technology Outside. I’ll have to pick up a player for it.” He lets out a sigh, then turns his attention to me. “How are you today?”
    “Bored.”
    He smiles. “I’ll go change and then we can go get something to eat.”
    Before he even finishes the sentence, I put my hand behind my back and he does the same. “One, two, three,” I say, and I reveal my hand shaped like scissors at the same time he reveals his flat like a paper. “Ha! I won. I choose Mexican food.”
    He groans through a smile, then leaves to change.
    I pick up the DVD again. Across the silver surface, written in black letters, is the name Steve “Poison” Paxton. Poison? Really? I wonder if it’s a self-appointed nickname. There was a kid in seventh grade, who, after he Presented, insisted everyone call him Flash. He had developed the ability to speed up the connections in his brain, allowing him to run the mile a whopping one minute faster than the rest of us. One lousy minute. I wasn’t calling anyone Flash unless he could create a tornado around me with his speed. Had that been my ability, I would’ve kept it to myself as long as I could, until I had