“Why not?” Tanner cocks his head.
“I went to virtual school, so my mom made all of my lunches,” I explain. “I was six the last time I ate at a school.”
“Then you might not like the food here.” Noah chuckles as they lead me to the lunch room.
When we enter, there are several large, round tables with ten chairs around each one. I can’t imagine eating with that many people at once. I’m once again grateful that I met these guys at Catherine’s yesterday and they have taken me under their wings. If not, I would end up eating alone wondering if people are watching me.
“Tanner! Come eat with me.” Becca skips up to us.
“No thank you,” he replies.
“Why are you guys hanging out with the new girl, anyways?” She crosses her arms across her chest.
“Because Krissy is awesome. You should try it, her awesomeness might rub off on you.” Noah grins.
“Ew, no way. She has tattoos. My mom says only sluts and druggies get those. Which one are you?” she asks me with a snide smile on her face.
“Your mom doesn’t sound very cultured.” I shrug, ignoring the nasty comment. I refuse to let her opinion affect me.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re still a loser.”
“Yay, we get to be losers now,” Tanner cheers, pumping his fist in the air.
“I didn’t say you were.” Becca gives him a confused look.
“We hang out with Krissy, so if you think she’s a loser, you think I’m a loser too,” he explains with a shit-eating grin. “Better run away before our loserness rubs off on you.”
“I’m sorry if my presence is affecting you,” I say as Becca walks off and we get into line.
“Don’t be sorry. You are the best Becca shield ever.” Tanner grins. “I’m keeping you.”
“I second that,” Chance winks at me.
“Agreed. Sorry, Krissy, you’re stuck with us now.” Noah smiles.
“No complaints yet.” I smile back.
Chapter 6
We make it to the front of the line and I see the choices are pizza and fries or a burger and fries. I choose the pizza and a bottle of water. Then look for a check out.
“There’s no place to pay,” Noah whispers in my ear. “That’s the first thing I looked for as well.”
“Thanks,” I whisper back as I follow the guys to an empty table.
I sit and listen to the three of them goof off while we all eat. As they talk, yellow and pink swirl together then mix in with the black and blue undertones in each of their auras. These three guys truly care for each other. I wish I could see my own aura, though I’m sure it's not very pretty at the moment. With everything I’m feeling it has to be dark.
“Why are you so quiet?” Noah asks as we finish eating.
“I don’t have anything to talk about,” I shrug. “I spent the last ten years mostly by myself. I’m not used to talking to people.”
“We’ll crack that shell.” Chance grins.
The bell rings so we return our trays and throw away our trash before heading to the next class. We climb the stairs to the second floor and enter the first classroom on the left. I’m most excited for this class. It will explain things I’ve wondered about for a while.
We sit in the back of the class; though I would have been happy to sit up front for this one, I’m not ready to leave the safety net these guys provide. The teacher enters the room. She’s nearly six feet tall with long, curly red hair. She doesn’t look old enough to be teaching, but she carries herself with a confidence I wish I could replicate. The bell rings and she addresses the class.
“Good Afternoon. Please help me welcome Krissy Hoalt. I know this is a different setting than you’re probably used to, but I promise it will be interesting,” she says. “My name is Mz. Brunk.”
Her calm demeanor instantly settles my nerves. The fact that Becca isn’t in this class makes it even better.
“Let’s recap some of the basics.” She pulls up a screen on the smart board.
“Let’s start with red. Can anyone tell me what red represents?” she asks.
Tanner raises his hand and she calls on him.
“Red is commonly seen as anger, but it can also represent someone who is stable and courageous. It depends on the shade and the colors paired with it,” Tanner explains.
“Very good. It can also show irritability and self-destructive people,” Mz. Brunk adds. “Now who can tell me about orange?”
Several hands shoot up and she calls on a girl in the front row named Ashley.
“Orange is the color of creativity and health. Artists typically have a base color of orange. In some people it shows joy, and laziness,” Ashley says.
“Good job,” Mz. Brunk smiles. “Who wants yellow?”
This time she calls on Chance.
“Yellow is happiness. It’s the base color of people who are at peace with themselves,” he says.
“Thank you, Chance,” Mz. Brunk replies. “Now, how about green?”
She calls on a short boy in the middle of the class named Georgie.
“Green is the color of optimism and growth. It can also represent selfishness, jealousy, or materialistic people,” Georgie says.
“Excellent, Georgie,” Mz. Brunk smiles. “Who wants blue?”
Several hands go up. Mz. Brunk looks around and calls on a small girl at the front she calls Tori.
“Blue is often seen when someone is sad. If it’s a base color it represents a moody or snobby person.” Tori smiles when she finishes.
“Very good. Blue can also represent creativity in it’s lighter forms,” Mz. Brunk says. “Now, who can tell me about purple?”
She calls on Noah.
“Purple is a tricky color. In some shades it can represent passion or spirituality, but in others it represents dishonesty and disloyalty,” Noah answers.
“Very true. This is the hardest color to interpret. When it’s closer to red it’s more likely passion, but if it’s closer to the blue end of the spectrum it’s most likely negative,” she adds. “Let’s see… Pink is next, who wants it?”
She calls on a younger boy named Joel.
“Pink is the easiest color. It represents love,” he says. “In children it can represent innocence.”
“Very good. It can also show us when someone is very calm,” Mz. Brunk adds. “Let’s group the last two together. Who can tell me about grey and black?”
No one raises their hands. Mz. Brunk looks around then answers her own question.
“Grey is always fear. If someone has swirls of grey in their aura, they are scared of something,” she explains. “Black is essentially a scar on an aura. It represents deep pain or trauma. You will see it in most people since we all go through emotional pain at one point or another, but it’s rare to see in children. Only children who have lost someone or have been extremely ill will have black in their auras.”
I take notes the entire time they explain the basic colors of auras and by the end, my head is swimming. If this is just the basics, this is going to be more complex than I first thought.
As the class continues, we focus on the color red. It’s amazing how different shades of the same color can represent different things. Also learning that the main color of someone’s aura means something different than the same color streaking through someone else’s. By the time the class is over, I think I can start to decipher them better. I’m definitely going to be reading on my own.
I follow the guys to our last class of the day. My schedule says Reading Memories with Mrs. Osbourne. I wonder if this teaches us to share memories like my dad did last night?
When we step inside the classroom, there’s an elderly woman sitting behind the teacher’s desk. She has long white hair and clear blue eyes. She smiles warmly at us as we take our seats. As the students are taking their seats, she walks over to me and sets a book on the desk.
“Hello Krissy, I’m Mrs. Osbourne. A lot of what we will be talk
ing about won’t make much sense yet, but just hang in there. Your father said he will help you catch up at home,” she explains.
“Thank you,” I smile up at her.
“We can help as well,” Chance offers.
“That would be lovely.” Mrs. Osbourne smiles at him before walking back to the front of the classroom.
When the bell rings, she begins the lesson and she was right, the lesson is going straight over my head. I get the general principle that we can share our memories willingly and also read the memories of others, with or without their permission, but how it works doesn’t make sense yet.
When class ends, I’m ready for the day to end. So much information was thrown at me and I need time to process it. At least we don’t have every class every day. That would make it even harder to catch up. I make my way downstairs to my locker with the guys on my heels.
“What are you doing after school?” Chance asks as I open my locker.
“Oh, I don’t know. Guess I’ll need to check with my dad,” I answer.
“You could come over to study, if you want,” Tanner offers.
“That would be nice,” I reply, wanting to see Catherine again. “Let me ask my dad.”
“Ask your dad what?” my dad asks from behind us.
“Oh, Tanner asked if I wanted to come over and study with them,” I reply, hoping he will agree.
He appears to think about it for a moment before answering. “I don’t see a problem with that. Be ready to leave by six so we can eat dinner,” he replies.
“Thank you,” I turn back to my locker and finish grabbing my things.
I follow the guys out to the parking lot to a blue Dodge Caravan.
“No laughing. It’s what Catherine let’s us drive.” Noah gives me a stern look.
“I wasn’t planning on it. A ride’s a ride,” I shrug. “Do you get teased a lot?”
“Not much.” Chance chuckles. “But there’s always someone ready to call you a soccer mom when you drive a van.”
We climb in and take off.
“It’s lucky you came towards the beginning of the year. You’ve only missed three weeks,” Noah says. “It won’t take much to catch up.”
“School starts in September here?” I ask, a bit surprised. We started virtual school the second week of August. It’s the last week of September now, so I assumed I would be at least six weeks behind.
“We start right after Labor Day,” Tanner confirms.
I glance out the windows and notice some of the trees are turning a bright gold color. It’s gorgeous but I’m used to the leaves not changing until closer to halloween. We pull up outside of Catherine’s house and the boys barrel out of the car into the house. I follow behind, chuckling at their race for food.
Once inside, Catherine pops out of her office and looks surprised to see me. I hope it’s ok they invited me over without asking her first.
“Krissy! It’s great to see you again so soon. How was your first day?” she asks, a grin spreading across her face.
“It was good. Tanner offered to help me study so I can catch up,” I smile back at her.
“That’s wonderful. Help yourself to some snacks and make yourself at home,” she says before going back to her office.
I head to the kitchen where the guys are already loading up their plates.
“Better get in here and grab some food before it’s gone,” Noah gestures for me to hurry.
I grab a plate and they move out of the way and let me grab what I want. As soon as I finish, they attack the remainder of the snacks and we go sit at the dining table.
“What subject do you want to start with?” Chance asks between bites.
“Reading Memories. It’s the only one that didn’t make sense at all,” I answer.
“Yeah, that’s a tricky one,” Noah agrees as I reach in my bag and pull my book out.
“How do they publish these books without the general population learning about them?” I ask.
“I had the same question when I started. I guess CODA has their own printing company,” Tanner answers.
“How big is CODA?” I ask, my eyes going wide.
“We have a presence in every country. There are more of us than people realize. We try to stay hidden because the nongifted don’t trust what they can’t understand,” Catherine says from the doorway. “The witch hunts were because gifted people shared their abilities and look at where that got them.”
“Are Memory Eaters the only ones out there?” I ask.
“No. We’ve identified several gifts over the years, though we don’t mingle. There are people who can heal, move objects with their minds, control fire, and shapeshifters,” she explains.
“There are legit shapeshifters?” My mouth falls open. How is that even possible?
“Not many left, but yes. We have records of them existing, though I’ve never met one that I know of,” she smiles. “The world holds much more than people think. I would guess that every story out there stems from an encounter with a gifted person. They grow as they are exaggerated through retellings. Witches, werewolves, vampires, they were all probably just a gifted person who’s story grew into a legend.”
“That’s just crazy! Like not insane crazy, but it’s hard to believe,” I reply.
“Any harder than believing you are different?” she asks.
“No, I guess not. It makes sense, but how do gifted people stay hidden?” I ask. “Surely at some point someone slips up.”
“If you saw a person doing something that shouldn’t be possible, would you tell anyone?” Tanner asks.
“No… I don’t think anyone would believe me,” I answer after thinking for a moment.
“Exactly. And even if you did tell someone they would probably have you committed.” Chance chimes in.
“Wow, ok my world just expanded ten sizes today,” I say.
“Now, focus on your homework,” Catherine chuckles. “I’ve distracted you enough for one day.”
We finish our snacks and the guys take turns patiently going over the lessons I’ve missed. By the time my dad arrives to pick me up, I have a basic understanding of how memories work.
Our memories and our auras are directly connected. If you mess with one, you affect the other. There’s such a strong tie between emotions, memories, and personality that it’s a complex system when you try to read them, or even remove one. It’s no wonder they take memory eating so seriously.
Chapter 7
“How was your first day of school?” Dad asks as we drive back to the apartment.
“It was good. I think I’ll be able to catch up pretty quickly,” I reply. “The core classes are behind where I was in virtual school so that’s no problem, but the gifted classes will take some work.”
“You’re a bright girl, Ni… Krissy,” he says, catching himself on my name again. “I have no doubt you’ll be caught up in no time. Just remember if you ever need help, I’m here.”
“Um, you can call me Nikki. It’s weird hearing you call me Krissy,” I admit, secretly missing my special nickname.
“Thank you,” he whispers then clears his throat. “I found a place today. It’s down the street from Catherine. We should be able to move in this weekend. Maybe your new friends could help us.”
“That’s awesome. Are you sure you don’t mind moving? I know you weren’t expecting to have me living with you,” I say. Now that I’m over my initial anger, I’m worried that I’m an inconvenience. Emotions suck sometimes.
“I stayed on a month to month lease in case you ever came to be with me, Nikki. I’ve wished for nothing more for the last ten years. I just didn’t want to put you or your mom at risk. Had I known….” he trails off as his aura turns a deep blue.
“We can’t change the past, so why dwell on it,” I say. Understanding a little bit about aura colors has changed the way I look at him. His aura is deep shades of blue with black fissure running through. When he looks at me small pink swirls show up. Now I see w
hy Catherine knew he loved my mom and me.
When we arrive at the apartment, the smell of barbeque chicken hits me. My stomach growls.
“You had time to cook?” I give him a surprised look.
“It didn’t take long to secure the rental so I threw this in the oven before I picked you up,” he smiles.
I set my backpack down and go into the kitchen, opening drawers until I find the dinner plates. I set the table as Dad takes the food out of the oven. He made barbeque chicken, mac and cheese, and a side salad. We load up our plates then sit at the table together as we eat.
“The house has a large backyard. Maybe we could get a dog once we are settled,” he suggests.
“Mom would never let me have a dog. She said it was too hard if we had to move suddenly,” I reply, remembering how I asked for one for years.
“We don’t have to move like that anymore. We have CODA now. I wish I would have known about them when you were young,” he replies.
“You’re doing the past thing again,” I point out between bites. “That’s just going to bring up bad feelings. I’m trying to shove that all in a box and forget about it.”
“You’re right,” he says reluctantly. “It’s not so easy for me to do.”
“Have you heard anything about Mom or Uncle Tony?” I ask.
“Actually yes. Tony is ok; he’s just leading Vinco in circles, but no one has been able to locate any information on your mom yet. Give it some time,” he says.
“At least one of them is ok,” I choke out as a fresh wave of guilt washes over me.
“Nikki, it’s not your fault,” my dad says firmly.
“You don’t understand.” Tears fill my eyes. “I wasn’t nice the last time we talked.”
“Jo has thicker skin than you give her credit for. She knows you love her. If she didn’t come home, it was to keep you safe. For all we know, she’s leading them in circles like Tony is,” he tries to comfort me, but it doesn’t work very well.
All I can think of is how rude I was. If I would have known she wouldn’t be coming home again, I would have done things so differently. Even with as angry as I was, I still love her. I shouldn’t have taken my aggravation out on her.
The Strange Existence of Krissy Nichole (The Memory Eater Chronicles Book 1) Page 5