Getting permission from my parents to go to Lancer Park with Michael wasn’t as difficult as I had anticipated. There was the expected flare of surprise and the same predictions of disaster if I slipped up and revealed my ability. I was able to avoid out and out lying, since they didn’t ask me if Michael already knew about it. Eventually, they acquiesced, with lots of warnings to be careful, to keep up my blocks and my guard.
I was waiting by the door the next morning when the powder blue Mustang slid down the street at a safe and respectful speed and pulled up in front of our house.
“Mom! I’ll see you after school!” I called. My heart was pounding. I grabbed my bag and concentrated on walking calmly and coolly out the door.
Michael was out of the car and opening the door for me. I noticed, for the first time, how he was dressed. It seemed before I had never looked away from his eyes. Today he was wearing faded but decent looking jeans and a gray t-shirt. He smiled as I approached.
“Good morning, “ he greeted me, and I shivered at his voice. What was it, I asked myself, that made me feel this way? All I had to do was see him and I felt swoonish, if that was even a word.
“Good morning,” I answered. “Looks like it’s going to be a pretty day.”
Michael glanced at the sky through the windshield as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He smirked at me. “Yep, it’s Florida. Pretty days are the rule, more often than not.”
I cringed inwardly. What a trite, stupid thing to say, talking about the weather of all things!
But Michael didn’t seem to notice my embarrassment. “Guess it’s a lot more of a sure thing here than it was in Wisconsin.”
I was surprised that he remembered the last place I had lived. “That’s not saying much, but yeah, it is.”
We were both quiet, then I ventured, “I really do appreciate the ride. You’re possibly saving me from a horrible fate, if I had to walk.”
Michael laughed easily as he turned a corner. “Oh, yeah? What’s that? Blisters?”
“No!” I answered, my eyes widening. “You know, all the wildlife danger. Scorpions, snakes and alligators! Oh, and those biting ants, too.”
This time he laughed in earnest. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Of course I am. My dad told me all about everything that lives down here. He said not to go near natural bodies of water, and I’d have to walk past a lake on my way to school.”
Michael shook his head, looking at me sideways in mock pity. “Sad. Do you really think there’s gators just roaming the streets?”
“There might be,” I replied darkly. “Who knows?”
He was still chuckling as we turned into the parking lot and found a spot. We climbed out of the car, Michael waiting as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.
“So, are we on for tomorrow afternoon?” he asked. I could tell he was trying to keep his tone casual.
“Yes! My parents said it was okay, as long as I was home by dinner and…” I altered my voice to mimic a parental tone, “be very careful and smart.”
Michael shot me a quizzical glance. “What does that mean?”
“It means my parents don’t want anyone to find out about what I—what I can do.” I kept my voice down. There weren’t many people near us, but I’d been well schooled in caution.
“It’s a secret, then?”
We had reached Michael’s locker, and we stopped there while he swapped books. I raised my eyebrows.
“Well, yes. No one knows. Just my parents and me… and now you. And they can’t know that you know, or they will really freak out, and probably send me away to military school.”
Michael slammed his locker shut. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “No, it wouldn’t be military school. Probably we’d just move out of state and they’d home school me for the rest of my life.”
“No, I mean, no one else knows? And they’d be mad if they knew I knew?”
I shuddered. “Mad doesn’t begin to cover it. Mostly they’d be frightened, I think. Their worst fear is that someone finds out about me and then… I don’t know, they have all kinds of dark scenarios in mind.”
“Hmm.” We moved down the walkway toward my locker, and it was my turn to root through my books. Michael leaned against the wall, and I could feel his eyes on me before he spoke again. “So do you think you can keep yourself dry and out of trouble this morning?”
I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t seem to be asking too much, does it? Sometimes I think I’m missing some essential element I need to be part of things. I’m always the invisible girl… unless I’m in Chemistry here, then I’m the girl with the target on her.”
“I don’t think it’s you. We get a certain amount of transient kids in King… you know, they move here for a year, then they’re gone. I guess it does take a while before people really open up.” He shrugged. “Like I said the other day, I’ve been in this area, at King schools, all my life. So I don’t know for sure.”
“Small towns are always harder to break into,” I agreed. “I thought Florida would be different, because there are always people moving in and out, and all the tourists, too.”
“King is a little bit of an oddity, though,” Michael remarked. “There are a few old Florida families, and sometimes they act like they’re royalty. Not all of them, but there are some odd ones.”
“King has been here a long time?” I questioned as I closed my locker.
“Haven’t you heard the history of this town?” Michael asked. “It’s kind of cool, I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Oh, you know, history, magic, legends, all that paranormal stuff.”
My spine tingled. “Some people would say I am very into paranormal stuff,” I murmured softly, just for Michael’s ears.
He smiled gently. “Not like this. Gravis King was a carnie. Actually, he owned a big carnival, one of the largest in the south in the late nineteenth century. He retired down here, bought land, and brought his whole carnie family down to live here, established this town. Said they all needed a place to make a fresh start.
“Lots of people who still live in town can trace their family trees back to King’s carnies. If you go downtown and walk around, you’ll see shops with some of the carnie names up there. People trying to play on their heritage, I guess. Makes a good draw for tourists, and we get busloads every year. Whatever works.” He shrugged.
“That’s very interesting,” I mused. “Is yours one of the families?”
“No way!” he laughed. “My parents settled here as a compromise. My dad came from the panhandle, my mom came from south Florida, so they agreed to live here as a half-way point. And they’re not much on the mystical elements people in town play up. My mom says it gives her the creeps. So we don’t live in the town, we live just outside, like I told you.”
The first bell rang, and I looked up, startled. I had been totally absorbed in our conversation.
“Gotta run,” Michael sighed, regretfully. “See you at lunch. Stay dry!”
It was hard to believe it was only my third day at King High School. I managed to keep it relatively uneventful. In Chemistry, I slid into my assigned seat as quietly as I could, but I needn’t have bothered. Liza, Casey and Nell were all in full ignoring mode, not even bothering to acknowledge my presence. I was perfectly okay with that. I took notes on Ms. Lacusta’s lecture and kept my eyes on my notebook.
When the bell rang, Ms. Lacusta called me to her desk and handed me several papers stapled together.
“These are the notes from the lab you missed,” she explained. “And there is a summary worksheet on the back page. If you complete it tonight, I will make sure you receive full credit for the lab you missed.” Her eyes were very perceptive as she gazed at me. “I don’t believe that you were at fault yesterday. I should have kept a closer eye on the situation, especially considering the… personalities involved.”
I wasn’t sure what I should
say at this point, so I just nodded and murmured my thanks. As I turned to go, Ms. Lacusta said softly, “Tasmyn… tread carefully. And please, do feel free to let me know if there is anything I can do to help you feel more settled and at home here. I think I could be very helpful to you.”
Her words were kind enough, but quite suddenly, I sensed a very different feeling pulsing from her mind. It swirled around me, almost like a tangible mist, and it was not pleasant. Rather, it was cunning and nearly—I struggled for the word—painful? No, not quite. Dangerous, that was a more accurate description. Like a beautiful snake that might lull its victim into admiration before it struck with deadly venom.
I took an involuntary step back from the desk and nearly stumbled. I mumbled another incoherent word of thanks and fled the room as quickly as I could. I spent most of Speech and Debate trying to shake off the sense of foreboding Ms. Lacusta had triggered in me.
In English, I returned Amber’s notebook to her with another word of thanks. Again, she didn’t respond to my efforts to start a conversation; she just took the notebook back with a nod and never even met my eyes. I stifled a sigh, wondering what I could have possibly done to offend yet another girl by my third day of school.
The rest of the morning passed quickly, and I was so glad to go to lunch that I felt like skipping the whole way. Michael was waiting for me in the same spot outside the door, and his smile upon sighting me lit his entire face.
The idea that I was the reason for that incredible smile was intoxicating. I really couldn’t understand why he sought me out, why he wanted to be with me, but I wasn’t going to press my luck and ask too many questions, lest he figure out that I wasn’t worth the effort. I was surprised and not a little scared to realize that Michael Sawyer was already so important to me.
As he had the day before, Michael opened the door and followed me inside. But today, he was taking a personal interest in my lunch. He added a plate of fries to my tray (which held a cup of soup and a salad) and made me take two cookies instead of just one. When I protested, he just shook his head and moved me forward.
“You cannot make it through an afternoon on just rabbit food and soup,” he told me firmly. “Besides, I’ll help you eat them.”
Everyone at our lunch table greeted me warmly as we sat down. I tried to keep up with the conversation that flew around us… If I kept my concentration on just one person at a time, I was able to tune out most of the thoughts. Fortunately, the few I did pick up were positive and friendly.
Michael made sure that I kept eating throughout the talk. He sat next to me today instead of across the table, and he angled his body so that I felt protected and safe, even as he encouraged me to talk to the others. I realized that he was giving me another gift: he was sharing his friends with me.
It was toward the end of lunch that Anne mentioned Nell Massler’s name. She rolled her eyes as she told us that Nell had joined the Harvest Moon Dance Committee. Across the table, Brea sighed in a show of empathy.
“I just don’t get it. She’s very popular, but she is so intense. We were having a meeting, and she gets all wrapped up about the dumbest things. I can’t believe how many people are listening to her. Drives me crazy!”
I was quiet. I had just met these girls, and I didn’t want to chime in on something negative.
Michael moved slightly closer to me and leaned to whisper in my ear. “Why don’t we beat the rush and go to our lockers now, if you’re finished eating?” He glanced down at my tray and sighed. “You didn’t finish your cookie.”
“I’m full,” I answered. “I’m ready to go.”
Once out in the hallway, Michael walked alongside me in silence. “I thought maybe the Nell talk was making you uncomfortable.”
I glanced at him sideways. “Are you sure you aren’t the mind reader here?”
He looked at me in surprise. “Pretty sure. I just try to be observant.” We stopped at his locker first, and as he twirled the combination, he said quietly, “You talk about it so casually. But I thought—what you can do was a big secret.”
“It is. I mean, it always has been. I don’t—” I struggled to put what I was feeling into words. “I’ve never been able to say those casual things to anyone but my parents. I guess it’s just really freeing. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Michael closed the locker. “I was just surprised.” He stood looking down at me so intently that I flushed and dropped my eyes. “There were some times at lunch that you seemed to be listening really hard. You were just looking at Anne and Brea—I don’t know, like you were concentrating intensely on what they were saying.” He hesitated, and I sensed that he didn’t want to say anything I might take the wrong way. “Were you… were you listening to them? You know, to more than what they were saying out loud?”
My face grew even warmer. “No! I don’t do that, not on purpose. Sometimes things slip in…” I was getting upset as I tried to explain. “What I was concentrating on so carefully was not listening. I work very hard to keep up the walls that block other people’s thoughts.”
Michael closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t mean that to sound—accusing. I was just wondering. I’ve been worrying about what you might be reading in my mind, that you might not like it. I didn’t even think that you might be trying not to know.”
His admission took my breath away. He was worried about what I would think? That was insane. I was the freak, the one who was made wrong. And he thought I would read his mind and not like it?
I took a steadying breath. “I haven’t heard anything from your mind since yesterday in the car. And I wasn’t trying then. It happens. I try to keep it from happening, but it does.”
Michael pushed off from the wall. “Tasmyn, I promise you, I am not mad at you. I wouldn’t have been angry if you had been reading my mind or the girls’ minds. I just didn’t know.” He put his finger under my chin to lift my face. “Please don’t be upset,” he murmured.
My eyes were caught in his, and I couldn’t look away. I could feel his warm finger just grazing my face. My wall slipped a little, but I could only interpret earnest, intense feelings from him—no specific thoughts. And then just for a split second, I saw my own face, looking up at him, the way he was seeing me, and I was completely blown away. I knew it was my face; I recognized the long brown hair and saw my own hazel eyes, but it didn’t look like the image I saw in the mirror each morning. It was beautiful.
The bell rang and the walkway filled with people. We were no longer alone, but Michael stood still. I was the first one to move.
“We have to go to class,” I said, although I had no idea how my voice was working.
“I know.” He breathed deeply and ran his hand over his hair. “I know. This is,” he shook his head, as if to clear it. “Okay, I’ll see you at your locker after school.”
“I’ll be fast. I don’t want to make you late.”
“You won’t. See you.” He took off around the corner and I wondered how I was going to move myself to class when my legs were suddenly made of rubber.
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