“Dreaming of Kaidan Rowe, huh?”
I looked up. We were parked in front of my building.
“No,” I muttered. “I was not thinking about him.”
Jay laughed and I backhanded his big arm once again.
I sighed, imagining how he would react if I told him that I had the nose of an überhound and eyes like binoculars. He was totally cool with my being eccentric, but he didn’t know the extent of it.
“Thanks for taking me tonight,” I said. “I had fun.”
“For real? I knew you’d like it! So, I’ll pick you up for school on Monday?”
“Yeah, see you then.”
I climbed out and headed up the steps, feeling resentful toward that Kaidan kid for making me open my memory to things that were better off boarded up.
CHAPTER TWO
GOOD-GIRL SYNDROME
Patti was frying eggs in our small apartment when I came in from my jog on Monday morning. I leaned over the counter to watch. She used her wrist to push a strawberry blond curl from her face. When the strand fell again, I reached over and wrapped it behind her ear. A translucent, pale yellow emotion swirled around her chest, wafting warmly toward me.
She flipped the egg, tsking when the yolk broke. Watching her at the stove, I wished she were my real mother so I could have inherited some of her genetics. I’d love to share her thick curls and soft voluptuousness.
Of course she’d waited up for me to get home Saturday night, then hounded me for details, pretending to be excited for me when I could see she was overflowing with anxiety. I gave her the G-rated version, leaving out the bits about lying to people and having strange encounters with a boy. She’d bitten her lip as I spoke and searched my face, but then accepted my story and relaxed.
Patti handed me a plate and shooed me off with a wave of the spatula. I sat at our round dining table, pushing aside a pile of unpaid bills and photo proofs from her freelance photography jobs.
“What are you up to today?” I asked her.
“The Dispatch hired me to shoot a press conference with the governor this morning. I should be home around four.”
Noticing the time, I scarfed down my breakfast and hurried to get ready.
Fifteen minutes later I kissed Patti, preparing to dash out the door, but she cupped my cheek with a gentle hand to still me.
“I love you, sweet girl.” Light pink love fluttered around her body.
“Love you, too,” I said. She patted my cheek and I left.
Jay always picked me up for school at exactly 7:10. He was prompt. I liked that.
“’Sup?” he said when I climbed in the car. His eyes were still puffy from his having just rolled out of bed.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” I said. It took two hard pulls on the creaky car door before it finally slammed shut. I twisted my wet hair and hung it over my shoulder. It would dry straight and I’d pull it back.
We usually drove to school in silence, because Jay wasn’t a morning person, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk since he brought me home Saturday night.
“I always wondered what your type was, but I never imagined it would be a hard-core rocker!”
Here we go. I had been hoping he’d be too sleepy for this conversation.
“He’s not my type. If I had a type it would be... nice. Not some hotheaded, egocentric male slut.”
“Did you just call him a male slut?” Jay laughed. “Dang, that’s, like, the worst language I’ve ever heard you use.”
I glowered at him, feeling ashamed, and he laughed even harder.
“Oh, hey, I’ve got a joke for you. What do you call someone who hangs out with musicians?”
He raised his eyebrows and I shrugged. “I don’t know. What?”
“A drummer!” I shook my head while he cracked up at his joke for another minute before hounding me again about Kaidan. “All right, so you talked about my CDs, you had some cultural confusion with some of his lingo, then you talked about hot dogs? That can’t be everything. You looked seriously intense.”
“That’s because he was intense, even though we weren’t really talking about anything. He made me nervous.”
“You thought he was hot, didn’t you?”
I stared out of my window at the passing trees and houses. We were almost to school.
“I knew it!” He smacked the steering wheel, loving every second of my discomfort. “This is so weird. Anna Whitt has a crush.”
“Fine, yes. He was hot. But it doesn’t matter, because there’s something about him I don’t like. I can’t explain it. He’s... scary.”
“He’s not the boy next door, if that’s what you mean. Just don’t get the good-girl syndrome.”
“What’s that?”
“You know. When a good girl falls for a bad boy and hopes the boy will fall in love and magically want to change his ways. But the only one who ends up changing is the girl. Like Jamie Moore, remember?”
Jamie Moore! That’s where I’d heard Kaidan’s name before! She was a junior at our school.
We parked in our usual spot at Cass High School.
“See you at lunch,” Jay said. He had his eye on a girl named Kaylah, who was climbing out of her car three spots down.
“Yeah, see you then.” I walked to school while he lagged behind to say hi to her.
Jamie Moore was on my mind all day.
I sat with Jay at lunch, but my eyes kept going to Jamie, sitting with her same group of friends, but sort of an outcast now. She sat on the end, keeping to herself as the others played and flirted.
Being unsociable and fashion-backward had never been issues for Jamie Moore. She was a year older than me, beautiful, and a genuinely nice person. Her primary color used to be the sunshine yellow of happiness. At the beginning of this school year she’d been a cheerleader and president of the drama club. In the fall I heard she was dating some guy in a band from a high school in Atlanta.
Kaidan Rowe.
Her colors began to change then. Yellow to red. Red to gray. Gray to black. She was full of anger, then self-loathing, and most recently depression. Gossip flew about pictures of Jamie taken on her boyfriend’s cell phone, and their eventual breakup. She was soon kicked off the cheerleading squad for failing grades. Next came stories of her partying, moving from one guy to another, but never being happy. For the first time she wasn’t given the starring role in the winter play.
My heart contracted tightly as I looked at her again, sitting there at the end of the long lunch table. She still dressed trendy and took time to style her hair, which was probably why she was welcome to continue sitting with the others. But her smile and her sunshine yellow were gone, replaced by a dull gray haze.
The bell rang and I watched her shuffle out of the cafeteria.
No, I did not want to see Kaidan again. Of that I was now certain.
I made my way through the crowded halls, barely cringing anymore at the onslaught of emotion from the people surrounding me. It had been difficult adjusting to a big school after spending the first eight years in a small private school, but I was used to it now.
It was almost the end of the school year—two more weeks to go. The Georgia heat had set in, bringing with it tank tops and flip-flops, as well as shorts and skirts that kept no secrets. I shied away from showing too much skin, partly because of my own modesty, and partly because I felt kind of bad for boys. Unlike other girls, I had to see firsthand that most boys were having a hard enough time concentrating on anything besides their overpowering hormones.
Jay mussed my hair as I passed him in the hall, never pausing in his conversation with one of the guys from band class. I smiled, smoothing my hair back down.
I slipped into my Spanish class and immediately started the class work written on the board. Once finished, I peeked over at Scott McCallister, who sat next to me. He was dozing off on top of unfinished verb conjugations.
Scott was an all-state wrestler—a cutie with big brown eyes and a baby face. He’d always b
een courteous to me, even flirtatious at times, but I didn’t take it to heart, seeing how he flirted with lots of girls.
The class finished early and we were told to work on our final project.
“Um, Senora Martinez?” I raised my hand and she nodded. “Are you going to collect the homework?”
A collective groan rose up from the students, and the guy next to Scott muttered, “Shut up, stupid!” I slunk down low in my seat, mortified by my own social faux pas.
“Ah, sí!” Senora Martinez said. “Gracias, Anna.”
“Why you gotta be so good all the time?” Scott whispered. I lifted my eyes and caught his teasing expression. He had no assignment to pass up when the teacher came around.
My face was still warm by the time she finished collecting the worksheets. Veronica, who sat in front of me, turned and gave me a sympathetic look. She was one of the only other students who did the homework.
Nobody worked on their projects after that. Well, I did, of course, compulsive rule follower that I was. The class erupted into the excited chatter of free time, and Senora Martinez turned to her computer, ignoring us. Even the teachers were ready to be done with this year.
I opened my notebook.
Veronica bent to put her stuff in her bag and caught sight of my sandals.
“Cute shoes!” she said to me. “Where’d you get them?”
Oh, how I wished I felt okay about lying. I kept my eyes on my notebook when I answered, “Thanks. Um, I think they were from a yard sale or flea market or something.”
“Oh.” Veronica glanced at them again with less appreciation this time, and we shared a polite smile. She had short dark hair and a Grecian nose with a slight arch to it. When she caught me looking at her nose I was stunned by the wave of dark self-loathing that came off her before she turned back around to face her friends. Of course, the feature she hated most about herself was the one I thought made her naturally seductive in a way I could never dream of being.
Scott turned in his desk toward me.
“So what are you doing next Friday, shorty?”
“Nada,” I answered.
“Huh?” His look of confusion made me smile.
“Nada,” I said again. “You know. It means ‘nothing’ in Spanish?”
“Oh. Yeah. See, you must be under the impression I pay attention in here or something. Anyway, you wanna come to a party? Gene’s folks have a lake house.”
My stomach jumped. “Wow, that’s cool. I don’t know, though.” I leaned my elbow on the desk and pretended to study the graffiti etched into the wood.
“Jay’s invited, too. Come on, we’ve never partied together.” I probably would have felt very uncomfortable if it had been anyone other than Scott giving me that dreamy look. I glanced at his emotions. Happy. Hopeful. Slightly lustful. I couldn’t help but be flattered by his invitation and apparent interest.
“I guess I can talk to Jay about it,” I said, leaving out the fact that it was Patti I’d have to convince. “But you know that I don’t really party, as in party party.” I couldn’t even make eye contact after saying such a lame thing, but I didn’t want him having any false expectations.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Why is that?”
How could I explain it? I didn’t have any nagging judgment toward my peers for drinking and partying. I knew it was innocent rebellion and self-exploration. But there was always a promise of dangerous excitement I strongly desired. Ironically, it was that desire that repelled me.
“Are you scared?” he asked.
“Kind of,” I admitted. “I don’t like the fact that it might make me do something I wouldn’t normally do.”
“That’s the fun of it. It makes you open and free.”
Open and free. I wondered if that was how Danny Lawrence had felt when he passed out on the lawn of a party last year and the other drunk guys thought it would be funny to stand around peeing on him. Or the most terrible thing that happened over Christmas break, which nobody talked about at Cass—the senior girl who was high and drove off the road, killing her best friend in the passenger seat. Had she been feeling bold? Every time I saw her walking the halls in a black cloud of remorse, I wanted to cry for her.
“I guess I’m just boring,” I mumbled.
I was ready to close down this conversation. I looked up at the clock, thankful to see the bell was about to ring.
“Trust me, Anna.” Scott leaned in. “One drink in you, or one hit of X, and you’ll feel anything but boring.”
Everything inside of me tightened. X. Ecstasy. The word bounced around in my head like a rubber ball, out of control and impossible to catch. My dark undercurrent stirred with craving and my breathing quickened. I didn’t like to acknowledge that darkness. It rose at any mention of drugs and alcohol. And to be honest, it was what had drawn me to Jay last year. I saw something similar in him, though not exactly the same.
A dark strand ran under the surface of his emotions. It was always there, threatening, especially at the mention of alcohol. I didn’t know what it meant, but I wanted us in it together. I thought I might be able to help him, or protect him. A funny thought, considering he was a brawny guy.
I looked at Scott, who grinned at me. Not a sinister grin, but an I-want-to-experience-something-with-you grin.
Veronica must have caught wind of our hushed conversation, because she turned and gave a conspiratorial smile to the two of us.
“Are you going to the party, Anna?” she asked.
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“You should come! It’s gonna be crazy. Everyone will be there.”
I looked down and traced the wooden grooves in the desk with my pencil’s eraser. Could I get away with changing the subject?
“So, I’m turning sixteen on Wednesday. I’m getting my license.”
“I am so jealous!” Veronica said, smacking my desk. “I’ve been sixteen for three months already, and my dad still hasn’t let me get mine! I’m pretty sure he hates me. Are you getting a car?”
“Uh, no.” Not even close.
Everyone jumped up and grabbed their things as the bell rang, and the tension that held a viselike grip on my neck finally relaxed its vicious fingers and released me.
CHAPTER THREE
SWEET-SIXTEEN SURPRISE
I didn’t feel any older when I woke up on Wednesday morning. Patti was out on our small balcony with her coffee and newspaper. She snapped to attention, and her face brightened when she saw me.
Something misty hovered beside her like a ghost. I pressed my fingers to my eyes, but when I took them away it was still there. It was about the same size as her, maybe longer, like a fuzzy white shadow. Had I developed another sight? Please, no. I’d learned to fear the acquisition of new abilities; like the choking horror of smoke from a mile away, each came with some fresh disadvantage.
“Happy birthday!” Patti said, standing and pulling me into a big hug, then cupping my face and gazing into my eyes. “You feeling okay?”
“Um...” My eye glided to the cloud thing, which moved around her, never changing its general appearance.
“What’s wrong?” She looked down at her shoulder where my eyes were, and wiped down the length of her arm, right next to the cloud. “Please don’t tell me I have dandruff.” She ran a hand through her waves, pulling her hair to the side to get a look at it.
“No, you don’t. Nothing’s wrong. Sorry. I’m still tired, just zoning out.”
She squeezed me again, kissing my head.
“I can’t believe my little girl is sixteen! There’s a card from Nana on the counter. Let me go make your hot chocolate.” The shadow thing floated along next to her, following her into the apartment as if attached.
I sat down in a plastic chair, feeling jittery, while Patti made my cocoa. Most mornings were relaxing, sipping warm drinks on the balcony, but not today. The combination of the humid morning air and the weird vision made me feel claustrophobic.
I couldn’t believe I
was seeing something else. Nothing strange had happened to me for more than two years. I thought it was over. I closed my eyes and laid my forehead on the table. Would it ever end?
I sat up when Patti returned, setting my cocoa in front of me and sitting in the other plastic chair with her coffee. I sneaked another peek at the cloud when she wasn’t looking.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked me.
Time to act normal. I cleared my throat.
“Yeah. So, there’s a party next week for the end of the school year. I was wondering if I could maybe go with Jay, if it’s okay.” I thought of Scott and hoped she’d say yes.
Patti sniffed and twitched her nose.
“Will this person’s parents be there?” she asked in a tight tone.
Would they? “I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ll need to talk to them first. If it’s just a small get-together with parental supervision, then I’ll consider it.”
Sheesh. Patti made it seem like I was prone to bad behavior or something. Me! The school’s Little Miss Goody-Goody. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t trust me. I must have been pouting, because she set the paper down and gave me a consoling pat on the arm.
“You still want to get your license after school today, hon?”
“Yes,” I answered. Because that was what normal sixteen-year-olds did. And I would feign normalcy if it killed me.
“All right. And then dinner at La Tía’s?”
“Yes!” I said, my mood lightening. Mexican food was our favorite. We went to the little rinky-dink restaurant for every birthday, and whenever Patti got an unexpected bonus, which wasn’t very often. Newspapers and other agencies hired her sporadically, so her income had never been steady. We’d struggled during the years I attended private school, despite partial financial aid. I put my foot down after eighth grade, insisting on public school when I found a pile of late notices tucked between two cookbooks.
“Sounds good to me. I’ll pick you up after school. I hate to run, but I have to get some stuff done this morning, since we’ll be busy girls this afternoon!” She kissed my cheek with a loud smack. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
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