He turns to face me and I can see that his neck and arms are dotted with bright red splotches. “I can’t help it,” he whispers back. “I’m so itchy.”
“Did you eat the spinach again?” I accuse. “You know it gives you a rash.”
“I didn’t! Honest! They switched me to kale and look what it did to me. I broke out in hives!”
I cluck my sympathy. Poor Tyrell could be the poster boy for calamine lotion, except it turns out he’s allergic to that too. He might be allergic to air. I’ve never seen him when he wasn’t digging away at some body part, making it redder and more inflamed.
We’re down on our mats doing some yoga positions when I first see the new kid. He’s about my age. He looks like he’s still half asleep—and the half that’s awake is really unhappy. In fact, he’s barely moving under his own power. It’s more like he’s being dragged here by this older guy. His dad? No—too young. Older brother, maybe. But if so, a lot older—at least twenty-five. The older one spreads out a mat at the back of our group and the kid curls up on it like he’s trying to take a nap. His companion hauls him upright. The wrestling match is starting to get awkward.
“Who’s that?” Tyrell wonders aloud.
“Whoever it is,” I reply in a low voice, “he needs this place more than the rest of us put together. You can practically feel the negativity coming off him.”
Magnus provides the answer. “Ah—our newcomer! I want everyone to welcome Jett.”
“Be whole, Jett,” we all chorus.
He looks at us like we’re crazy.
The older guy nudges him.
“Yeah, happy hole to you too,” Jett mumbles.
Magnus takes us through the rest of Awakening, but I can’t concentrate anymore. I keep glancing back at that guy Jett, who’s doing everything wrong. He isn’t reaching for the treetops. He’s barely even reaching. His shorts are on inside out, and his T-shirt isn’t even from the Oasis. Instead of BE WHOLE, it says SOPHIE TUPPLEMAN’S BAT MITZVAH. And every time that older guy lets go of him, he drops to the mat and starts fake snoring. Or maybe it’s real.
I try to ignore him, but it’s just so disrespectful—not just to us and the Oasis, but to Magnus himself, and right to his face!
Magnus’s sharp eyes are on me. “Be whole, Grace. Did we miss our deepest breath?”
I practically sink through the forest floor from the humiliation. He’s right. I was so distracted by that awful Jett person that I neglected my deep breathing, which is the most important part of Awakening. “Sorry!”
As always, Magnus is cool about it. “No need to be sorry. You just need to be whole.”
But I feel everybody staring at me for the rest of the half hour. I’m usually Magnus’s best student, so it hurts that much more.
When it’s over, and Magnus releases us to go to the Bath, I wheel on the new kid, who is back on his mat, dozing off again,
“It’s called Awakening,” I tell him bitterly. “You should try it sometime.”
He opens one eye. “I’m awake.”
“Yeah, right,” I snort. “You’re flat on your face when your brother isn’t holding you upright.”
“He’s not my brother,” he yawns. “He’s my parole officer.”
The older guy tries to laugh it off. “Matt Louganis,” he introduces himself, shaking my hand. “I’m Jett’s—companion.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Jett insists. “He’s my dog groomer. And part-time scuba instructor.”
“Jett—” Matt begins warningly.
“All right, I admit it. He’s me from the year 2036. Ever since we invented that time machine, he’s been traveling back to make sure our father doesn’t disown me—which means the checks will stop coming in the future.”
Matt rolls his eyes. “Your father doesn’t do checks. He uses his blockchain technology, FlashCash.”
Tyrell scratches his way over. “But isn’t FlashCash a Fuego product?” His jaw drops. “You mean your dad is Vladimir Baranov?”
Jett gets to his feet. “That’s the old man. He also invented ClusterVault, ByteBolt, Luau, and Kicking Horse Pass. Okay, not the last one. That’s a place in Canada.”
“You get used to Jett’s sense of humor,” Matt says dryly. “At least so I’m told.”
I already know everything about Jett that there is to know. And it can be summed up in three words: spoiled rich kid.
“Wow,” Tyrell enthuses. “Your dad is considered the greatest American innovator since Thomas Edison. You guys must be loaded!”
I elbow him in the midsection.
Tyrell shrugs. “He knows he’s loaded. Everybody uses Fuego! I’ve got an F-phone!”
Jett is suddenly interested. “You’ve got a phone?”
“Not on me,” Tyrell admits. “I had to hand it over when we checked in. No electronics allowed.”
“You see?” Matt says to Jett. “We’re all in the same boat. It isn’t some special torture your dad dreamed up just for you.”
“Don’t be a hole,” Jett drawls at his companion. “See—I’m starting to get the hang of the place.”
I see red. “It’s ‘be whole,’ and you know it!” I exclaim angrily. “It’s encouragement to live a better life, and you’re turning it into something gross!”
“You’re right. I’m a bad person,” Jett agrees. “You should complain about me to Nimbus and get me kicked out.”
He has the nerve to point to Magnus, who built this wonderful place. A pampered creep like Jett isn’t worthy to add fabric softener to the laundry when Magnus washes his tracksuit!
“Magnus Fellini,” I hiss, “is pathfinder to the pathfinders! Our leader!”
“So tell him what a jerk I am,” he encourages me.
“Not going to happen, Jett,” Matt informs him solemnly. “Take it from your scuba instructor. You’re here for the whole six weeks.”
“We should get over to the Bath,” Tyrell puts in. “We’re already late.”
“Not me,” Jett says stoutly. “If I have to stay here and starve, at least I’m going to smell bad.”
“It’s not that kind of bath,” I snap. “It’s a natural spring, warmed by geothermal heat. There are only a handful like it anywhere.”
But that’s not good enough for Jett Baranov. If he wants to experience a great wonder of nature, his dad can just invent one and give it to him for his birthday. He starts bickering with Matt over whether or not he should have to suffer what other people save up for their whole lives to have a chance to experience. I grab Tyrell and we head through the woods toward the Bath.
Tyrell can’t stop peering back over his shoulder in the direction of the argument. “I can’t believe Jett’s dad is Vladimir Baranov. He was named one of the ten richest people on earth, you know.”
“Yeah, well, then money doesn’t care who owns it,” I retort. “Where does Jett get off? When he trashes the Oasis, he isn’t just insulting Magnus and the other pathfinders. It’s a slap in the face to every single one of us.”