One (One Universe)

we’re taking everything more seriously, Merrin. Raising the bar. You do think you can find the time to meet with me regularly over the next few weeks, don’t you?”
    I nod, my heart jumping. “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s only lunchtime. My friends will barely miss me.”
    Mr. Hoffman nods and looks at me, his expression unsmiling and intense. Not like him. “You should know that this is under the radar. If the board knew we were preparing Ones to work with us… Well, let’s just say they’d never let us continue. Ones are still not as welcome at the Hub as we’d like them to be. So I don’t want you to tell even your parents, Merrin. Or anyone close to anyone working in the Hub. It could put them in a very…difficult situation.”
    I nod, look down at my hands. “Okay. Yeah.”
    Something about the idea of not telling my parents makes me nervous. If I’m so great, why should I be kept secret? If it’s a new era, what is the Hub ashamed of?
    But then I think of the weird 3-D teacher projections in the classrooms and how the most important thing at this stupid school seems to be who’s on what sports team. My chest feels tight, and I struggle to take a deep breath.
    Mr. Hoffman watches me expectantly, waiting for me to say what should feel obvious to me — that I’ll go along with this plan, no matter how top secret I have to keep it. He’s so familiar, right down to the faint smell of the licorice he always kept in a barrel on his desk for the students.
    I lock my fingers together and lean forward so my elbows rest on the desk. “When do we start?”

FIVE
    W hen the bell signaling the end of class rings, I head out into the hallway to join everyone else. My chest feels tighter the closer I get to my locker. I get there, swipe my print, and open it in peace, but then I feel it.
    An anxiousness, a humming feeling, inches its way under my skin. The feeling, warm and buzzing, builds up in my shoulders, gathering in my muscles. The energy begs to get out.
    I slam my locker door shut, knowing Elias is going to be waiting there behind it. Yep. There he is, with his infuriating dimple, the one that makes my insides melt, standing there without flinching.
    “How did you find me?” I realize a half-second too late that the question assumes he followed me here. So now I’m saying he is either a creep or way more interested in me than he probably is.
    “My locker is next to yours. Fifth period art and all. That’s how they’re arranged.”
    Oh. So he didn’t follow me. He was just going to his locker. I am a dumbass.
    He sticks out his hand, and it sits there in the air, waiting for me to do something with it. “Let’s try this again. Elias. Elias VanDyne.”
    “Related to…”
    “The famous VanDyne twins? Yeah.”
    The VanDyne girls were seniors when I started freshman year back at Superior High. I don’t know a lot about them, but I do remember their stunning almost-identical faces framed by starkly different hair, the same flawless skin with a spray of freckles, strong jawlines, and eyes sparkling with life. He does look a lot like them.
    “I didn’t know…”
    “They had a brother? Yeah, no one back there at SHS does.” He smiles a little. “No one back there cares about Ones.”
    My heart stutters. He’s a One, too. “So…you never even got a chance at Superior Public?”
    He shrugs. “I fit in fine here. I’m okay.” The fact that he’s smiling shows me he thinks he is, but the catch in his voice tells me the opposite.
    No One could be totally fine, no matter how much they think they are. Not in Superior, Nebraska, with the Biotech Hub practically in our backyards, for sure.
    He’s wearing a thick gray hoodie with a giant N on the breast, looking pleased with himself. “What are you, the freaking quarterback?” I mumble.
    His eyes widen a bit, his smile fading for a second, but then he raises his eyebrows at me, not mad and walking away like he should be.
    “Do I look like a quarterback?” He motions to himself, his hands running the length of his long, thin torso. He’s right. He’s much too thin to be a quarterback — or a football player at all, actually. But, I notice, his chest does curve his fitted shirt out slightly.
    I narrow my eyes.
    Elias laughs again. “And do you even know anything about sports? It’s football season now. I would have been on the field every morning.”
    “Do you think I’ve been paying attention to what you’re doing in the