I admit, Aaron challenged me intellectually and he always somehow scored higher than me. I often wondered how many hours he spent studying, aside from all the fun things he did. I had always wanted to ask him how he studied, but I never got around to it. Whether he was surrounded by his fangirls or his teammates, there was never a chance to ask.
The rest of the day went by smoothly as lunch slithered in. I found Stacy waiting for me at our usual table. We dropped off our backpacks like we had done last year to save our seats and went to wait in the lunch line. Typically, the first week of school was filled with decent food, but later on the food would simply be for sustenance. This year, Rosemond High had created a salad bar and the line for that was unbelievably long. I would have to wait at least twenty minutes just to get my two tomatoes. I tapped my fingers impatiently against my thigh as I waited in line. Stacy, my best friend, stood beside me silently and watched other people make their salads.
Stacy Marks could be unbelievably mean sometimes, but at least she was straightforward; I never would have befriended her if we hadn't gotten stuck together at lunch one day and we kind of just clicked. We had a silent agreement to tolerate each other until the end of high school and that’s how it had been for the past two years. I was overly kind and apologetic, meanwhile Stacy could kill a bird with one look. But I could be that way too sometimes and I appreciated that she said things like they were. I liked straightforward people; it avoided the awkwardness of beating around the bush or the dishonesty that came with not sharing what you truly feel and think about something.
"Stop tapping your finger V, it's getting annoying." She tossed a glance, glaring in my direction as I continued to tap.
Stop tapping your finger V, it's getting annoying. I mimicked, picturing the SpongeBob meme as I laughed to myself. Across the cafeteria, I couldn't help but notice smiling gray eyes focused on me. I looked at him, confused as to why he was looking at me. I highly doubted that Aaron would take an interest in me other than asking me for homework answers. I looked away as the line slowly moved forward, and we got our lunches.
"Aaron Paul is in my advanced-placement calculus class." I complained to Stacy as we made our way to our usual table and sat down. The cafeteria was crowded today, everybody was excited to see their friends and talk about their summers.
"And?" She asked, rolling her eyes and taking a bite out of her apple, "he actually showed up to school, that's a first." She snickered, almost to herself.
"And he sits next to me in calculus… Mr. Salé,” I continued, hoping to vent and be heard, but I was cut off by a lettuce chewing Stacy.
"Good, there's an opportunity to get to know him. If I were you, I would jump at the chance of sitting next to Aaron, he's hot and has good grades so he's definitely going somewhere in life and might end up rich. If not, you can marry him and mooch off his parents," Stacy laughed, "Hey, I've got a great idea. You should offer to tutor him and send him to me. I wouldn’t mind having a slice of that pie; you know I’ve loved him since I laid eyes on him." She licked her lips, glancing at Aaron then shifting her gaze back to me. I wondered if she was being sarcastic, but I didn’t dare ask. I knew she’d say something hurtful. I swallowed my disgust before glancing back at her.
"So has every other girl at this school.” I rolled my eyes; I just didn’t get it. “That sounds really cliché. Besides, I'm not one to go after guys and you know it, even if it is for someone else."
"Then how are you going to snatch him off the market?" She asked, chewing loudly.
"What makes you think that's what I want?" I furrowed my eyebrows, frustrated. I had wanted a decent conversation, I wanted to complain about how Aaron would cheat off my homework now, but Stacy’s mind was always in the gutter.
"Suit yourself. But if I were you—" I knew she would say something along those lines, Stacy always seemed to turn conversations around to make herself the main focus.
"You're not me." I cut her off, then apologized for being rude, "S… sorry," I finally said, hoping I didn't offend her with my attitude. "But I really don't care for him. Honestly, he's hot, but he's a huge player. He doesn't know what a relationship is, and he seems to basically know everything about everyone, which is kind of stalker-ish and nosey, if you ask me."
"I wouldn't mind a guy who knew what I liked." She smirked, returning her attention to her food. I didn't reply, there was no way I was getting through to her anyway. I didn't know what to say to her obvious innuendo. Aaron Paul was not someone I wanted to talk about while I ate, my appetite immediately disappeared, and I tossed the remnants of my salad into the nearby trash bin. The bell rang and I walked to my last class of the day. I groaned when I saw that Aaron was in this one too.
Chapter 4:\ Not Exclusive
Aaron
Sometimes I wish I could control people's thoughts. Hearing them is great but controlling them would be the ultimate superpower. I could be so much more progressive if that were true. I could have Principal Thatcher in the palm of my hands. But no, I was stuck hearing everyone's thoughts and they always clouded over my own. I could never think for myself and it was annoying at first, but I guess I was used to it. I thought I was going insane; but who needs to think for themselves when they can have hundreds of people thinking for them?
Aaron Paul is not hot. Aaron Paul is not hot. The girl that sat beside me kept repeating that phrase to herself and I did all I could to hold back my laughter. She glanced at me as I smiled, and she blushed.
Okay, maybe a little. I laughed, turning my glance away from her and onto the history teacher in front of me. She was young, very pretty, and she seemed intrigued by my presence. She looked at me as if I were just another student, but I heard her vulgar thoughts the second she’d introduced herself. I looked down, urging my stomach to retain its contents.
I had tried to tune out her thoughts to hear her, but it was nearly impossible. I noticed she’d thought the same thing about one of my teammates who was also in this history class. I was repulsed, attempting to fight my gag reflex as I stared at my hands on the desk.
"Hi everyone, my name is Ms. Randall and I’ll be teaching the history curriculum this school year.” Her voice sounded nervous, but I wasn’t sure for which reason. “I'm going to call roll now." She announced, pushing her glasses onto the bridge of her nose.
"Kaya Abraham." She began and a bunch of muffled 'here's' spouted around the classroom.
"Aaron Paul." She called, her eyes landed on mine and a faint smile twitched on her lips. I tried my best to block out her thoughts, but it wouldn't work. That was something I had never been able to achieve— blocking out others’ thoughts and focusing on my own. However, I could attempt to zone into someone else’s mind and keep my focus there. But Ms. Randall’s thoughts were too strong, flying at me faster than the speed of light. I couldn't push them away or focus on anyone else because her thoughts were that prominent.
Mindreading is a blessing and a curse. I wouldn't dare repeat her thoughts to you, dear reader, things like that should never be repeated. After a few more names, she had a particularly difficult time pronouncing the raven-haired girl's name.
Violet Veowsalot. Her name wasn't hard to remember since it was very unique and gave me an odd sense of satisfaction every time that I’d said it out loud. I glanced at Violet again as she watched Ms. Randall carefully, waiting for her to pronounce her name. I wondered if Violet had any pets, if she did, I’d never heard her think about them.
Unlike the rest of the high school population, Violet was the outlier who solely focused on school. It was probably why she never got invited to parties.
"Violet Vee— vow? I'm sorry, could you help me out?" Ms. Randall looked up, searching the room. I listened in on Violet’s thoughts, sensing the anxious thoughts engulfed her. She was speechless.
What if my voice cracks when I talk? Okay, breathe, just say your name quickly. What if I forget what I’m trying to say halfway through? What if I pronounce my name wrong? What if
Ms. Randall makes fun of my name? But if I say nothing, she will think I’m absent. Her thoughts jumbled into my mind as I raised a brow and watched her fiddle with the hem of her shirtsleeve before I decided to speak, since she clearly didn’t want to.
"Veowsalot." I said as Ms. Randall’s eyes flickered over to me and a small smile formed on her face. She looked new, like she walked into her interview, said she’d just graduated and voila! Hired.
It was understandable that she might not have known how to pronounce it, but she could have at least tried. It had always bothered me when people didn't do something that they're absolutely capable of.
Did Aaron just...
I didn't think he knew her...
That's...
Is something going on between them...
I've never seen them talk...
Eyes turned to look at me as the students in my high school history class voiced, sort-of, their opinions. They couldn't possibly assume that I knew Violet in any way, she wasn't the type of girl I talked to. I guess that’s what I get for trying to be nice. Violet wasn't a flirt, and she didn't play hard to get. She was just focused on getting straight A's and the occasional thought of taking my spot as valedictorian crossed her mind. Those were the thoughts I adored because it allowed me to have space to think. She was ambitious and hard-working, and it inspired me a bit. Just a little bit.
I sighed and shut my eyes, wishing so badly that all their thoughts could disappear, I didn't want to hear them. I was frustrated that I couldn’t respond and tell each and every one of them that I had no affiliation with her and even if I did, it was none of their business.
I opened my eyes, glancing across the room as I met eyes with Violet. And suddenly my mind went blank. Her eyes were as dark as her sleek brown hair that swayed ever so slightly with the air conditioning of the classroom. She’d picked a good seat, close to the window and right under the air conditioner.
As soon as her deep eyes looked at mine, everyone's thoughts abruptly disappeared and the only thoughts I heard were my own; they kept urging me to keep looking. I could willingly stare at her all day if it meant not having to hear other people's thoughts and opinions. It was a peace and silence that I hadn’t imagined was possible for me. I wanted the feeling to stay, to have my mind free from everyone else’s thoughts and to just have my own. But as soon as she glanced away, they poured back in like a waterfall.
I groaned, wishing I could be back home, my parents away on their weekly date-night, and my mind completely free of all people and their thoughts.
At first this talent was something I took great pride in. But now, I wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. And glancing into Violet's eyes did that for me. I wanted more freedom from this odd curse.
After class the teacher, whose name I didn't bother remembering, asked me to stay for a minute so we could discuss something; I forgot her excuse. I wasn't surprised that she specifically asked me, she had been thinking about talking to me the entire time. She asked me what my favorite subject was and why I decided to take history as a junior.
I replied blandly, my mind unable to break free from her dirty thoughts and I was getting sick of it; I didn’t want to continue talking since my voice was apparently of interest to her and her filthy mind. The final bell had rung, and I was ready to leave.
"I have to go." I said impatiently and walked out of the room without a second thought. I walked behind the large crowds of students in the hallway, trying my best to blend in, and left through the double-doors of the school. The parking lot was in full view and it wouldn't take too long to reach my car. In my peripheral vision, Violet focused on a conversation with her friend. I was too far to hear anything, so I ignored it.
I continued to my Toyota and sat inside, waiting for Amy. She knew that if she made me wait too long, I would leave. But today I considered staying a bit longer. Violet's car was parked across from mine, a few lanes away actually. I silently people watched as Violet spoke animatedly. She had one friend and I didn't expect anything more from her. I thought maybe if I focused on her mind, I could hear what she was saying, but that didn't work. While Violet spoke, her nonchalant friend turned to look at me. As soon as we made eye contact her friend’s thoughts zoomed into my mind.
If Violet was smart, she’d at least talk to him. More for me, I suppose.
I looked away, wondering if they’d been talking about me or someone else; probably another ‘him’ is who they were referring to. I started the engine, growing impatient as I backed out of the parking spot, ready to head home.
"Wait! Where're you going?" Amy rushed in front of me and placed her hands all over my car, tapping my window impatiently. I rolled down the window.
"You know how I get impatient… you really don't need to spend that long after school greeting your friends." I muttered as she opened the passenger-side door and took her usual seat.
"But it's the first day of the school year and they didn't see me this morning. Of course, I had to say hi." She smiled as an image got thrust into my brain. She had been kissing some random guy, the image didn't last long enough for me to decipher who it was, but I let it go. It wasn't like we were exclusively dating, quite literally the opposite actually.
"Are we going to your house?" She asked, applying lip balm as she tossed her backpack into the backseat of my car.
"Nope, I'm dropping you off today. I have homework to do." I said, driving out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Amy didn’t live far; I could have her out of my car in no time.
"Since when do you do your homework?" She scoffed, fixing her ponytail as I continued to drive before she thought for a minute and added, "On the first day?!" I ignored her. Her house wasn’t far from the school, maybe a ten-minute walk, but certainly a two-minute drive.
"Since now, Amy, we're here." I pulled into the cul-de-sac and parked in front of her house, waiting for her to get out of my car. She looked at her lip balm, moving it between her fingers as she glanced at me.
"Do you want to come in?" She asked brightly, biting her lip.
"Not really." I shrugged as she did her best to hide her disappointment. A million questions swarmed around her mind, but I didn't care to answer any of them unless she actually asked. I didn't have to explain myself, we weren't exclusive and, as far as she was concerned, I didn’t know what she was thinking.
"Okay. Pick me up tomorrow morning, then?" She smiled, stepping out of the car and leaning on the open window. She grabbed her backpack from under the backseat and strapped it over her shoulder. The sun made her blonde hair look like a pale white as she squinted her eyes to look at me.
"Nah, I'm busy." I replied, nonchalant and ready to leave. I was mentally exhausted, and it was barely the first day of school. She continued to stand there, clearly confused as I waited for her to stop leaning on my window.
Does he know about Tyler? Her thoughts flashed before me as I held a firm poker face.
"Maybe you should have Tyler pick you up." I suggested. She looked utterly shocked, wondering how I had found out so quickly. I smirked, there was no way to keep her thoughts from going viral at this point. Every detail of the few minutes before she went to the parking lot replayed in her mind.
"You know?" She whispered in shock, backing away from my car. How did he know, it literally happened 15 minutes ago?! I thought he was in the car. She furrowed her brows, creating deep creases as she stared at me, confused.
"Of course, I do. But don't worry Aims, we were never exclusive, you can do what you want." I smiled, hoping to make her guilty thoughts stop entering my mind. I had to admit it stung a little.
"Are you sure you're okay with it? He asked me out and I said I would think about it, but…" She said quickly. I knew that if I didn’t clip this conversation at the bud, she would go on about what had happened, and I genuinely did not care.
"You don't have to explain yourself Amy." I held my hand up, "I appreciate you telling me." I really, really didn’t want her vivid imag
es popping up in my mind anymore. I wanted to go home and sit on my bed, imagining the blissfulness of being in my own thoughts for once.
"Okay, as long as you're okay with it. I guess we should end our… you know?" She bit her lip as I nodded. “I mean, it wouldn’t be fair to Tyler if…” she began, but I cut her off before she could say anything else.
"If that's what you want." I smiled casually, hoping she received and understood the message. "Date who you want, Amy. We aren't exclusive." I said, for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Thanks Aaron, you're the best." She grinned; any traces of guilt were gone as a wide smile stretched from ear to ear. I love Aaron so much! Why can’t all guys be this understanding?
"I know." I laughed, backing out from her driveway as she waved goodbye.
"See you tomorrow!" The smile wouldn't erase itself from her face and I grinned along. Her smile was contagious.
"See you." I mumbled as I landed on the street and headed home with one of my own thoughts lurking prominently in my mind. Time for homework.
Chapter 5:\ Dior Red
Tyler
"Just so you know, we only kissed. Amy isn't exactly the relationship kind of girl, but she is the kind of girl who is… I don’t know, different. She’s really friendly so I can’t tell if she even likes me. I don't know why most girls these days are like that, but I don't mind having to chase them once in a while." I announced to my older brother who was staring at the TV like it was a treasure map, ignoring me as per usual.
"Except she was playing me all summer, I’m pretty sure she faked her crush on Aaron to make me jealous. It worked though, I tried so hard just to get her attention. And today, as soon as the final bell rang in our class, she walked right past me as though I were nonexistent. You can see me, I’m alive, right? Are you hearing me, Chase?" I waved my arms in front of his face, but he continued to ignore me.
The Boy Who Read Minds Page 2