BJ had seen one of Tess’s bras. He felt her up during a game of seven minutes in heaven in eighth grade while they were kissing. It was a cotton white one. It had been biggish back then, but now it fit perfectly.
As Tess put on a purple shirt, she thought about what it would mean if she found out Teddy didn’t like her. What if he thought she was ugly? Or fat? Did she really want to know what he thought of her? Was she opening some sort of Pandora’s box? Once she knew what he thought, she wouldn’t be able to erase the knowledge. It was like reading someone’s diary or overhearing a phone conversation. Once you heard, you couldn’t unhear.
Tess would die if anyone read her diary. She wrote religiously. Kind of. There was an entry for every day. But she back-wrote them about once a week. She fake-dated them and used a different pen for each day of the week to make it look legit.
So did she really want to know what he really thought?
Yes. She really did.
* * *
Tess waited for him at the entranceway to the theater. Teddy grabbed her in a bear hug. “Tess! Are you ready to be terrified? There will be blood. And beheadings. Many beheadings.”
“Awesome,” she said. “Nothing like a good beheading.”
Tess is the best. She’s just such a cutie.
Of course he had no idea that she could hear him.
Why would he? Back then people didn’t ever think about their thoughts being heard. These days it’s a different story.
But Tess did hear. She was thinking, Yes! Yes! Yes! He thinks I’m the best! He thinks I’m cute!
For the record, we don’t think “cute” and “such a cutie” are interchangeable. But anyway.
As they went to buy tickets, what Tess thought was this: If he thinks I’m cute and we’re already best friends, doesn’t that mean he likes me? What else does he need?
Teddy was looking as adorable as always. He had light brown hair, almost blond, and big brown eyes. His eyes reminded Tess of hot chocolate. He was in great shape too—on the bigger side, and not too thin.
Tess and Teddy met in a creative writing class back in seventh grade. He’d had a girlfriend then who lived in the West Village. Because he had a girlfriend, they’d been able to become fast—and best—friends. But he and the girlfriend had finally broken up—after three years!—just that summer.
Tess ordered herself one ticket and then Teddy got one for himself. She wished he had offered to treat her; that would have been a sign they were on an actual date.
But they had been to the movies lots of times before. They were just friends. Best friends. At a movie. Of course, a movie date could easily change into something more in a dark theater if the mood felt right. Right?
Right.
“I’ll get popcorn,” Teddy said. “You get us seats.”
“Will do,” she said. She smiled and then entered the empty theater. There was only a handful of people already there.
She chose a seat smack in the middle.
We think that was her first mistake, by the way. She should have sat in the last row. The last row says romance. Oh, well. Too late now.
The previews started as Teddy sat down a few minutes later. He was balancing one large popcorn and two large lemonades. They all looked precariously close to spilling.
Once he was seated, his knee was right next to hers. His arm too. They were so close. Any minute they could start kissing.
But was Teddy thinking about kissing? No. Teddy was thinking, This preview looks awesome. I totally want to see Iceman Revisited.
Maybe she needed more lip gloss?
Suddenly Teddy jerked in his seat. She’s here! She’s here!
Huh? She’s here? Who’s here? Tess looked over to see Sadie Newman and Keith Asher climbing up the stairs. Ugh. What are they doing here?
“Hey, guys,” Teddy said, “come join us!”
The other people in the theater gave him dirty looks, which were accompanied by thoughts of He better shut up!
Tess wanted to scream, Nooooooo! Sit somewhere else! Leave us alone!
But she just smiled.
Sadie had straight blond hair, a big smile, a waiflike body, and huge pale blue eyes. You would not be surprised if you saw her on a teen book jacket, staring at the camera, looking wholesome while caught in a zombie-werewolf love triangle.
She waved and made her way toward them. She was in 10B too, but it didn’t seem to Tess that any telepathy had kicked in.
Keith followed, looking vaguely annoyed.
We can’t blame him. His night out with his off-and-on-again girlfriend had just become a group date with a bunch of sophomores. He was a senior. He played varsity baseball.
Keith cast a glance at Tess and gave her a brief smile. What’s her name again? Carrie?
Tess was mortified. He thinks my name is Carrie? Was she that forgettable? But then Keith sat down beside Sadie, who was sitting beside Teddy, and Tess couldn’t really hear anyone but Teddy. And she did not like what she was hearing.
Why is she with him? Teddy was thinking. He’s such a tool. And she’s a goddess.
Tess felt sick. Sadie was a goddess? A goddess?! She didn’t like writing, or watching horror movies. She spent most of homeroom reading tabloids on her iPhone or picking her split ends.
“You didn’t miss anything,” Teddy said to Sadie. “Do you want some popcorn?”
“Sure, dude,” Keith said.
I wasn’t talking to you, jerkoff, Teddy thought. I was talking to Sadie. Sadie, Sadie, Sadie.
Tess wished he weren’t talking to either of them. She wished they weren’t there. She wished she weren’t there. She wished she were at home writing in her diary.
Mmm. She smells so good, Teddy thought. Like strawberries.
Seriously? Tess thought. Strawberries? He thinks it’s good if a girl smells like fruit?
We all know that if Teddy had thought that Tess smelled like fruit, any kind of fruit, even kiwis, she would have been over the moon. But as Tess sat in that movie theater, the only thing she wanted to do with strawberries was throw them at Sadie. Or maybe stuff them up Teddy’s nose.
It continued.
When Teddy and Sadie both took popcorn at the same time, he wanted to hold her hand. He thought about her lips. He thought about what it would be like to kiss those lips. To kiss her neck. To unbutton her shirt. To lick those fingers. To—
Tess squeezed her eyes shut.
She did not want the visual, thank you very much.
Tess had no idea how she hadn’t known this. They were supposed to be friends! Best friends! Why hadn’t he told her he liked Sadie? And the three of them were in the same chemistry class together! How had she never noticed? The girl only sat four rows ahead of them. Was Tess that oblivious?
Tess felt crushed. Totally and completely annihilated. Like a truck had landed on her and then reversed and accelerated and then reversed and accelerated again until she was nothing but roadkill. She vowed never to open her eyes again.
She just couldn’t believe it. Teddy didn’t like her. He liked Sadie.
As if he had any chance with Sadie. She was dating a senior! She’d had sex with him, too! We all knew. Well, we were 99 percent sure. By the next day we’d have 100 percent confirmation just by sitting next to her.
Teddy tapped Tess’s knee. “Don’t close your eyes already! No one’s even been beheaded yet!”
Tess wondered if she could volunteer to be the first. She opened her eyes.
Maybe Sadie will get scared and jump into my lap, Teddy thought.
Sadie turned to Teddy, looking startled. “Excuse me?”
Teddy beamed. She’s talking to me! Did you hear that, Keith? Huh?
“Are you trying to talk to Keith?” Sadie whispered. “Keith, Teddy has something to tell you.”
Teddy recoiled. I do?
Keith leaned over. “What do you want, dude?”
Teddy shook his head. I want to punch you in the face.
“Teddy!” Sad
ie shrieked. “What’s wrong with you?”
“SHHHHHH!” said the woman a few rows behind them.
Great, Tess thought. Just great. Sadie was getting ESP and it was Tess’s job to help her. “Sadie, come with me to the bathroom?”
“Excuse me?” Sadie asked.
“Bathroom,” Tess said, standing up. “Let’s go.”
What’s she doing? Teddy wondered.
Carrie’s weird, Keith thought.
Did Keith just say that out loud? Sadie wondered.
No, Tess thought. Just come with me and I’ll explain, okay?
Sadie nervously picked at a split end. Then she nodded and followed Tess to the bathroom.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PLEASE KEEP IT DOWN
Tess was not the only one with problems that first night.
Mars had trouble focusing on his piano lesson. It was hard to play Chopin when your teacher was making her grocery list. After his teacher left, Jill, his ex-girlfriend, dropped by his apartment to pick up a textbook she’d left behind.
“I can’t stay long,” she said. “I have plans.” I have no plans! I know I said it was a mutual breakup, but it wasn’t! I lied! I miss you! Serenade me! She picked up the textbook. “Later.”
Levi had a shift at Candy Heaven after school and not only did he have to listen to the kids’ endless whiny chatter—“I want more gum!” “I want more chocolate!” “Ella got more jelly beans than meeeeee!”—but he had to listen to their nannies’ whiny thoughts too: Does she never stop complaining? Why hasn’t he called? Is it six o’clock yet? He scooped a lot of gumballs with his eyes closed to block the noise. He also dropped a whole bunch on the floor by accident.
Olivia made her mom dinner. Olivia liked to cook. She made casseroles, risottos, stews. Tonight she made a chicken stir-fry. When she was done and was trying to do her math homework at her desk in the living room—there was no room for a desk in her tiny bedroom—she had to listen to her mom’s OCD: Did Olivia turn off the stove? I think she did. Maybe she didn’t. I should just check. Oh, yes she did. I knew she had. But it’s good to check. Two minutes later: What if I turned it on again by accident?
Olivia retreated to her bedroom and spent some time Googling “flu vaccine reactions” on her laptop. She found that most symptoms—normal symptoms, at least, like headache and sore arm—did in fact clear up on their own fairly quickly. So she had hope—please, please, please—that by the time she woke up the next morning, her homeroom’s telepathy would be gone.
But we all agree Mackenzie had the worst evening. By far.
She knocked on her parents’ door to say good night.
“Come in,” they called.
Both her parents were sitting on their bed in their bathrobes.
“Night, guys,” Mackenzie said, and gave them each a peck on the cheek.
“Night,” her mom said. “Will you close the hallway lights?”
“Yes, I will turn off the lights.”
Her mom was from Montreal and used weird Canadianisms like “open and close the lights.” Also “washroom” and “poutine.”
In case you’re wondering, poutine involves french fries, gravy and cheese curds. Those of us who have tried it claim it’s delicious. Those of us who haven’t are skeptical.
“Thanks, honey,” her mom said. Good thing Mackenzie is such a sound sleeper.
Huh? Mackenzie wondered. Why is it good I’m a sound sleeper?
Her dad patted her mom on the leg. I can’t wait to take off Linda’s robe.
Huh? Oh no. Mackenzie slammed her eyes shut.
Her parents. Were. Going. To. Have. Sex.
Sex!
Imminently!
She backed slowly out of the room.
“Have a good sleep,” her dad called.
Sleep? How was she supposed to sleep knowing what was taking place just a few feet away?
At least she wouldn’t hear their thoughts once she was in her room.
She closed the door and got in her bed.
That feels soooooo good.
No. No, no, no.
They were on the other side of her wall! This wasn’t supposed to happen!
She shut her eyes. Silence, thank goodness. Maybe she could just get a glass of water—
Mackenzie opened her eyes for a split second—but then heard Her breasts look huge in that position and immediately closed them again.
Understandably, she refused to open them again until morning.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE MORNING AFTER
“Olivia? Time to get up.”
Her mom was standing over her. “It’s after seven. Didn’t your alarm go off?”
Olivia remembered that something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t immediately place what it was.
Then she heard her mom think, She looks strange. Olivia stared.
No. No. No. No. She could still hear things. Why could she still hear things? The ESP was supposed to disappear overnight! She was not supposed to hear things that morning. Would this telepathy never go away? Would she have it forever?
“Is something wrong?” her mom asked. “Are you sick?”
“Yes,” Olivia said, pulling her covers over her head. “I’m sick. Very.” I am not going to school like this. I am not going to school until this ends.
“Poor baby,” her mom said, sitting on the edge of Olivia’s bed and pulling the covers off her face. Her mom frowned. The flu shot made Olivia sick! Or what if she was infected with the actual flu before the vaccine kicked in? She is not that diligent about washing her hands. Or what if it’s something else entirely? There are a lot of terrible viruses going around. Didn’t the health section in the Times say that SARS is making a resurgence? Is it SARS? I should take her to the emergency room.
Oh God. Olivia did not want to spend the day in the ER with her mom. But she also did not want to go to school and deal with the fact that half her homeroom could hear her thoughts.
“Can I just stay in bed for now? Maybe take a day of rest and see how I feel? And if I’m not better by this afternoon, then we can go to the emergency room?” Oops. Her mom hadn’t said the emergency room part out loud.
Her mother considered, not noticing the mistake. “Okay. I can stay home from work.” What if she collapses when I’m not here?
“I won’t—” She stopped herself. “I’ll be fine here. I’ll rest. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
Her mother hesitated. I do have a meeting today. But what if she needs me?
“I’ll be fine. Promise.” If her mom was staying home, then she was going to school. Her mom’s crazy made Olivia feel even crazier.
“Okay, honey,” her mom said finally. “Call me if you need anything.” I’ll call her every hour to check in. Maybe we can Skype so I can monitor her color.
Olivia’s phone buzzed next to her bed, and she twisted around to see what it said. She didn’t usually get texts this early.
It was from Pi. She had started a group chart. It was to all of us. It said:
I’ll assume nothing has changed? Meeting still on for lunch. Everyone be there.
Olivia thought the text sounded vaguely threatening.
We all thought the text sounded vaguely threatening.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked. “Who’s it from?” She tried to sneak a peek at the message, but Olivia turned her phone over quickly.
She debated what to do. She really wanted to hide under her covers. But she needed to find out what was happening to her. “You know what? I’m feeling much better.”
Her mother eyed her phone suspiciously. “Already?”
“Yeah. I must have had a nightmare or something. I’m fine. Really.”
“Hmm.” I think she should stay home just in case. It could still be SARS.
“Mom! I’m not sick. Feel my head.”
Her mother pressed her palm against Olivia’s forehead. Indeed, she had no fever. “You don’t feel warm. …”
“Because I�
��m not. I have a lot of work I shouldn’t miss today,” Olivia rushed to explain. “If I need to, I’ll stop by Nurse Carmichael’s, ’kay?”
Her mom paused, considering. Then she nodded.
Sucker.
* * *
So we went to school.
By this time there were more of us. Twenty-one, to be exact. The telepathy had kicked in for almost everyone in our homeroom over the course of twenty-four hours.
Courtney Hunter got it while she was watching TV with her parents. She didn’t have her own TV in her room, which was annoying. Her parents wanted her to bond with them over shows and have family time together. They liked to watch all the trendy shows about murdered teenagers and boys with paranormal powers on the CW and ABC Family. She sat in the middle.
I wish Stella would wear her hair like that, her dad thought.
Stella was her mom.
“What did you say?” Courtney asked.
Her dad kept his eyes on the TV. “Nothing.”
I wish Gerry had abs like that, her mom thought.
“What did you say?” Courtney asked her mom.
“Nothing,” her mom said.
Courtney started feeling sick. “Stop being weird!” she cried. But the thoughts kept coming.
Eventually she started screaming that she could hear what they were thinking, and they gave each other a look.
Is she on drugs? they both thought at the same time.
“I am not on drugs!” she yelled.
Her parents looked at each other in alarm.
“I think we need to check your room,” her dad said.
“I am not on drugs!” she yelled again. Not at that moment. Even though she’d never had ADD she occasionally popped an Adderall. Just to help her concentrate when she had an exam. She took maybe one a week. Two, max. Luckily she was out, so her parents wouldn’t find any.
They went to check her room while she watched the end of the show.
* * *
Isabelle Griffin got it during dinner. She was alone and had ordered pizza from Dean’s, and when the food showed up, she could hear the delivery guy’s thoughts. When her parents and brother came home, she could hear their thoughts too, and she freaked out. She started hyperventilating. Her mom didn’t understand what was wrong—“What do you mean you can hear my thoughts?” And she called their pediatrician’s office, which paged Dr. Coven, who called back seven minutes later.
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