I was almost at the front door when I hesitated, wondering if I should reason with her, plead with her to try to see past my deficiency. But what good would it do right now? We were both vulnerable at the moment and there was something going on with my body, some change I couldn’t yet tell what it meant. Without another look back, I stepped outside and hurried off into the black night.
10
Supernatural
My heart was racing as I ran through the night. It wasn’t because of physical strain, it was the feeling of Claire fading. The second I decided I’d rather have her than my sixth sense, I seemed to implode. Halfway home, I ran out of energy—not stamina. It felt like I could have run forever. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to let go of it, every stranger I saw on the street triggered my emotional radar. I sped past them, hardly trying to keep out of anyone’s path, earning alarmed looks and waves of fear, concern, or anger at my inconsiderate behavior.
I was a freak, she was right. But even if I was, had I misjudged her so much? I should have seen it coming and it might not have hurt as much. I could have protected myself and her. Saved us the embarrassment and kept the spark of romance we had been fostering. A glimpse of her desire washed through me with a memory of her touch and I was back. By now there weren’t many people wandering the streets, but the few I saw, brought a storm of emotions and a new fight to box my radar and stop receiving. My head was throbbing by the time I got home. In the hallway, I snapped at Jenna as she pointed out that I wasn’t looking good. As I climbed into bed, full of remorse for being unjustly harsh to my stepmother and shame for how I had run out on Claire, I was exhausted. There was nothing I could do to make my head shut up, though. The emotional pattern engraved into my heart was burning me and at the same time, it was scattering ever so slightly, as if Claire was slowly disappearing from my heart.
When I rolled over in bed, physically aching as if from withdrawal, the clock showed 4 A.M., and I was far from asleep. Frustrated with myself for not being capable of holding on to my rational side better, I dropped to the floor and did push-ups. Again, like the first night I had felt Claire, I didn’t feel tired after fifty, not after one-hundred or one-hundred-and-twenty. The next day, hours of pacing my room didn’t change the way I felt as if Claire was slowly fading from my memory. Of course, I could still remember her, who I had met in the graveyard and I’d gone to the party with, the one I’d kissed. But the underlying Claire, the true self of the beautiful sand-haired girl, had diminished to something of a black-and-white movie. I remembered it, but I couldn’t feel it the same as before. Was that the price I would have to pay in order to be with her? Would I have to go back to the dull perception of the world I’d had before?
My room was my refuge over the next days, a hideout from the temptation of using my sixth sense, and a place to focus on my studies for anatomy. There was an exam coming up and I couldn’t fail it.
When I left my room, it was just to attend family meals, where I poked around in my food without any desire to nourish my body. The truth was the desire for nourishment was coming from a different place than my stomach. It as a hollow ache in my chest that kept pushing me to feel beyond my own emotional mess. And every time it had me at the edge, I pushed back harder. But every day I kept fighting—for Claire, against my nature. My winning against it made me weaker and weaker instead of stronger.
“Have some water.” Ben put a glass into my hand and gave me a serious look over the dinner table.
Still having difficulties making anything go down my throat, I forced a smile and sucked the liquid into my mouth. “Thanks.”
“You should go see Dr. Evans,” Dad suggested. “It’s been two weeks since you’ve started feeling sick.”
I had told my family I had a bug, that I would be fine, but I couldn’t continue lying to them.
“I’ll go on Monday if I don’t feel better by then.” Neither Ben nor Jenna lost their worried expressions as I reassured them I was taking care of myself. With a quick motion, I twirled spaghetti onto my fork and shoved it in my mouth just to show them there was no need to be worried about me. “I’m actually a bit better today.” A real, raw lie. If anything, I was at the lowest point so far.
Geoffrey refilled the empty glass between my fingers, assuming I would need more. He had been eyeing my eating behavior cautiously from a polite distance, probably taking mental notes of what I did or didn’t eat at the moment—mostly didn’t eat. I should be grateful for the family I had and the people who were looking out for me, but at the moment there wasn't anything anyone could do to make me feel less tired, less frustrated, less drained.
“You have classes tomorrow?” I asked Ben just to change the subject and shift the focus away from me.
A hint of embarrassment crossed his face as he looked around the table. “Charcoal drawing.”
My radar wanted to reach out and test Ben’s emotional climate, find out what was bothering him about sharing this harmless information. At the last second, I pulled back and forbid myself to do it. If I wanted to get back into Claire’s life, I needed to stay clean and keep fighting the temptation.
“You?” Ben returned my question, putting me back in the spotlight.
“Actually, no,” I lied. I would skip again tomorrow and drive myself crazy about how Claire’s imprint on my soul had disappeared until it was little more than a shy trace in the sand.
“Anything you’d like to do together?” Dad made a question I’d been hoping no one would ask until I was feeling better.
I shook my head. “Just relax, I guess.” And stay away from my family’s sharp observant eyes. “I’ll take a long walk with Antonio,” I suggested. “A little fresh air will be good for both of us.” A smile from my parents and a nod of approval from each of them. I didn’t need to read their emotions to know they were satisfied.
At eight o’clock the next morning, I left the house, dodging people on the streets, anxious to keep my focus and not relapse into using my emotional radar. It would have been so easy to slip back into that behavior. After using it for a while, I had started to rely on it, and not having access to that extra sense made me feel incapacitated, like losing sight, hearing, or my sense of smell.
Thinking of those senses, I inhaled and tasted the air. There was gasoline and flowers, rain and coffee. Everything I would normally not notice, but today, I had to use my normal, human senses to compensate for what I had lost or more accurately cut out. As time passed, and I hadn’t eaten, unable to even look at food, I started wondering if the girl was even worth the effort. A paradox. If I got myself under control, she might be able to forgive me and want me back, but I wouldn’t feel the same about her. Something would be missing. Whereas if I held on to my sixth sense, she would reject me again and I would lose her, fully aware of how precious she was. What was I supposed to do?
My reflection in the window caught my eye and surprised and startled me. The young man with the dark curls looked nothing like he did the day he had been anticipating going on a date with Claire. Pale, tense, jumpy. The exact opposite of when I’d been trying to learn more about her. Had I once thought there might be a chance? After seeing this shadow of myself, I couldn’t even hope to become what Claire wanted—or needed—me to be.
Antonio eyed me cautiously when I darted up the stairs to my room without even saying hello to my family and flinched as I zoomed back down a minute later.
“Come on,” I called, leaving the front door open as he got to his feet, galloping behind me to catch up.
My feet were carrying me mechanically, there was no real place I needed to be or wanted to be. With every minute I struggled to keep my radar under control, my energy levels dropped. Before, I had thought studying for an exam was exhausting. I was now proven wrong. Nothing in my life had ever been as hard as this or cost me as much energy and willpower.
“You okay?” a woman asked as I stopped to catch my breath. I was panting as if I had just run a marathon. After the mental drain,
my body seemed to be giving way under the pressure of twisting my nature into something I wasn’t anymore.
The woman laid a hand on my arm when I didn’t react.
“I'm okay, thanks,” I managed and shook out of her touch, eager to get away from anything, any emotion which could trigger my locked-up sense.
I was very much aware that people were staring. Antonio sat down by my leg, indicating he was supporting me. It was obvious he was aware something wasn’t right.
It took a minute or two until I felt better. Not really better, but at least I could breathe. But I still felt blindfolded. It took every last bit of my mental strength not to reach out and feel my surroundings. It didn’t take long to realize there was no way in hell I could keep this up for the rest of my life. Losing Claire’s pattern was what was even more painful than the physical strain or the mental tiredness which came with my efforts to control my sixth sense.
Antonio barked softly and nudged my leg before he trotted off, slowly enough for me to understand he wanted me to follow him. My feet were sluggish as I made my way through the streets, letting the dog take the lead, and was surprised where he had led me as he turned into a familiar street and trotted up to a house I had dreamed I would see the inside of again.
Antonio curled up on Claire’s porch, throwing me an accusing look when I didn’t join him right then. For now, I remained comfortably in the cover of the trees across the street. It was impossible to tell from here if anyone was home. Did I even want her to be home? What good would it do to expose me and my own weakness to her like this? She would think even less of me. Wouldn't she? I couldn’t tell anymore. By now the beautiful pattern was less than a trace in the sand, any wave, no matter how small it was, might erase it forever. I swallowed.
A familiar car stopped in her driveway. Sporty. I couldn’t even remember why I had given him that nickname. Claire jumped out of the passenger side after a minute, waving as Sporty…Gregory…rolled away in his shiny black car. There wasn’t much time to ponder whether or not I wanted Claire to notice we were here. Antonio had gotten to his feet and was rushing toward her with a wagging tail. She jumped as he touched her legs, then her eyes flickered from side to side, searching for something—or someone.
“Hello, Antonio. Have you brought Adam with you?’ Her voice carried to my ears clearly and again I struggled to keep my extra abilities in check. Did I truly want to? It was so easy to hear her voice from under the trees where I was hiding, as if she was talking to me directly.
Antonio laid down as Claire knelt beside him, patting his head with her gentle hands.
“What? Are you hungry?” She had a one-sided conversation with the dog while she kept glancing around looking for me.
“Wait here, I’ll get you something.”
As she opened the door, Ninja-cat darted through the gap between her leg and the door frame, spitting and hissing, and disappeared around the corner, leaving a disturbed Antonio behind. When Claire had vanished inside, he glanced in my direction as if calling me to his aid but I wasn’t ready. Not yet. For two long minutes, I struggled between the option of leaving and facing her. When she returned with something between her fingers, I allowed myself to feel her, just for a second, and my head lost to my heart.
“Look, I got you some ham.” Did she always sound as caring as she did now? It was as if she let down her guard when she was with the dog. There was a connection, no fear of being judged by Antonio, the way humans did. She felt free. I shrank back into the branches as I realized I had been continuing to reach out with my radar.
Antonio lifted his head, ate out of Claire’s hands, and glanced in my direction again, about to expose my location.
“Antonio!” I called and stepped onto the street. I'd rather have Claire see me approach than spot me hiding like a coward.
The dog stayed with Claire, forcing me to walk over and face the consequences of my decision. Claire didn’t look up. Neither as I dragged my sneakers across the concrete nor when I finally stood beside her. Glancing down at her sand-colored hair, I waited to catch the attention of those blue eyes. The longer I stood there, watching her stroke my dog’s back, the more it felt as if she was stubbornly avoiding looking at me.
My patience eventually broke. “You cannot ignore me forever.”
She still didn’t lift her head, but she flinched at my words as if she had been hoping I would disappear. Something about the way she was cringing away from my voice told me she’d rather not hear what I had to say. What did I want to say? I could remember I’d had a plan to let her go, take myself out of the equation so she could continue to rebuild her life without complications from a freak. I waited as she was putting all her focus on stroking Antonio’s fur.
“You can’t stand there forever waiting for me to stop ignoring you.”
A quiet chuckle escaped my lips but I caught my voice before it could create a sound. She was painfully uncomfortable as I kept on waiting for her to send me away. Or could she, if she only looked at me, see me clearly? Who I was? How much she meant to me? My heart fluttered as I let my radar reach out and feel her. There was a spark of hope as I perceived how split she was about me, heart and head probably fighting as much as they did under my own skin.
“I need to talk to you, Claire.”
Another second of silence.
“You ran away…anyway, it’s been two weeks since you left.” Disappointment and frustration hit me right in the chest, making it difficult to breathe. It was like a spike on a wheel of affection which was rolling at me full speed. She was right. I had made a mistake. Instead of trusting my knowledge of Claire’s personality, I’d run. Had she thought I was a freak earlier, she now must think I was a freak and a coward. And she was right about both of them. It took a second to take it all in before I brought myself to speak again.
“You are right, Claire. I ran away. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” There was a gentleness in my voice that was new. It was almost like a plea was stealing its way into my words. A plea for her forgiveness.
Her hair fell over her shoulder as she turned her head, and her eyes, clouded with concern, found mine. For a moment we simply looked at each other, she measuring my face, me reading all the stress, the worry my sudden appearance must have inflicted on her.
“What happened to you?” My ears caught her whisper before it was carried away by the breeze.
“Let’s say I had an interesting time.” I forced a smile. In reality, I felt nothing like smiling. There was nothing positive about this paradox. I would have to walk away in order to keep sane and my sanity would cost me a life of painful memories of the girl who matched the perfect pattern.
“Interesting?” Claire’s eyebrows raised and she leaned just a bit closer, apparently drawn in by my choice of words.
“Can we sit down somewhere?” If I had to let her go, the best I could do was steal a few more minutes with her. Burn her face into my memory so it wouldn’t fade the way the pattern had when I shut out my sixth sense.
Claire checked her watch. “We can go inside. Sophie won’t be home until seven. Come with me, Antonio.” She waited for the dog to join her and noticed him nervously screening the area.
“The cat’s not here, don’t worry.”
I was relieved to hear Ninja-cat couldn’t ruin this. Antonio seemed to feel the same way about it and followed Claire into the house, slipping through the front door. With a deep breath, I followed. What did I have to lose?
“Please, sit down.”Claire pulled out one of the chairs in the small kitchen. Memories of the party filled my head. She had leaned against that same counter, as she had asked me about myself. “Want something to drink?”
“Just water.”
As she sat down on the other side of the table with a cup of tea, she separated the kitchen table in half with the glass of water she placed in the middle between us. Her half and my half.
“Shoot.” There was confidence in her voice. Whether or not that gave me hope,
I had yet to make up my mind.
“I didn’t get a lot of sleep over the past two weeks.” It was best to get it straight out. “First, I had to study for an exam in anatomy,” I continued, “second, I had a lot to think about…and third, I tried to ban some things from my life…”
“Including me,” she interrupted harshly. Maybe she didn’t mean to, but it still hurt, reminding me how I couldn’t have both, her and my sixth sense. I smiled at the irony.
“No. I never had the intention of banning you from my life. Contrary, I tried to ban some things so I can keep you in my life.”
She was searching for answers in my features, maybe in my gray eyes.
“You said you don’t want a freak messing up your life,” I explained her own words to her and she flinched. “I tried to ban the freak-part from my life.”
“What do you mean?”
Did I really have to say it out loud again? Hadn’t I scared her enough when I had brought it up the first time?
“I tried to ignore the things I perceive—sense from people. Remember what I told you the last time we talked?”
She nodded and I felt relief. My own. From her side, there was mainly frustration.
“I tried to not receive anything. I looked at people and didn’t see anything. I tried hard and it worked—for a few days.”
“For a few days?”
This was harder than I had thought. Every time I had to refer to my extra ability, I feared her rejection again. “Yes. But it cost me a lot of energy to keep it under control.” Maybe, if I found the right words to make it sound less scary—freakish—she would give me a chance… “If I could explain any better, I would. It just seems I have a talent for perceiving people’s feelings and circumstances without having them tell me.” It still sounded creepy even to me. How could she ever understand… “It’s scary. It freaks me out. I can’t imagine how much it might scare you when I don’t know how to handle it myself.”
Spark Page 11