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Open Minds

Page 3

by Susan Kaye Quinn


  “So, we’re going to study,” Raf said to her. “I’ll see you after school?” Raf still talked out loud whenever I was around. Which was very nice of him, but didn’t help the heat rising in my cheeks.

  She must have answered him in her thoughts. Then she added, “Right. After school.” She leaned in to air-kiss him, but Raf dipped his head away from her public display of almost affection. At least they didn’t actually touch. I didn’t want that mental image with me for the rest of the day. When she was gone, Raf pulled out his e-slate and scribepads.

  I couldn’t hold back. “So the Pekingese are still hot on your trail?”

  “You shouldn’t call her that.” He avoided my gaze, arranging his things on the benchtop.

  “Well, you didn’t like it when I called your girlfriends Shih-Tzus.”

  He threw me a grimace. “What is with you and the little dogs?” His accent transformed little dogs into littal dugs. I had to stop myself from smiling.

  “I don’t care for the yippy ones, but you seem to like them, Wolf Boy.” The Portuguese have an excess of names, and Rafael Amaro Lobos Santos was no exception. Wolf Boy was an old nickname, and Raf didn’t seem to appreciate it.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, anyway.” He pulled out his ancient Scarlet Letter paper book. “Are we going to study?”

  The annoyance in his voice made me soften my tone. “Only if we have to.” We settled on the stools. “So, not your girlfriend? And she knows this?”

  He tapped his temple twice. “She knows.”

  Huh. Mindreading must leave less room for misunderstandings in the relationship department.“So, why’s she guarding your rear flank?” If a boy wasn’t interested in me, I wouldn’t go sniffing after him. Not that I had any actual experience in this, just as a matter of principle.

  “We have a disagreement about the future of our relationship.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  He set aside his scribepad and searched my plain blue eyes. “You have no idea. Sometimes I think you have it easier. Not knowing what everyone is thinking all the time.”

  “Easier?” My voice soured. “Really? Maybe we can trade places and you can see what a joy it is to be a zero.”

  His face softened in a way that made my stomach flutter.

  I couldn’t stand the sad looks Raf gave me sometimes, his pity about my bleak future written in the lines on his face. But the look of longing he wore now, as though he wanted to touch me or maybe even kiss me, twisted me into knots. Because he and I couldn’t be that, not while I was still a zero. No decent person would prey upon a mentally impaired freak like me. And Raf was… normal. Perfect. Destined for a life brilliant with possibility.

  I ignored Raf’s stare and pretended to scroll through my scribepad. Eventually, he gave up and transferred his class notes. “Thanks,” I mumbled. Quiet had fallen around us. I studied the notes. He read his paper book. We shifted in our seats as the minutes passed, silent and separate. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend the short time I had with Raf. I would rather live vicariously and avoid any actual work, like we normally did. But almost half the period disappeared into a wasteland of studying.

  I was absently tapping my stylus against the scribepad when warmth stole over my hand. Raf was touching me. I should have pulled my hand away, but I couldn’t make it move. There was no surge of intimate emotion sharing, like readers apparently had when they touched. But having Raf’s hand on mine was like a drink of cool water after a hundred days in the desert.

  My breathing tried to match the pounding of my heart. I searched for something witty or sarcastic to say, but I couldn’t unscramble my brain. I dragged my eyes to his dark brown ones. The longing look was back in force.

  A war raged in my mind, a battle between the side that desperately wanted to know what Raf’s lips would feel like pressed to mine, and the better side that knew kissing Raf was something I could only keep if I was normal. If I changed. And if I didn’t, losing it would only tear me apart.

  Please stop, my better side begged. Please don’t make me tell you to stop.

  But he didn’t stop. He leaned toward me, and I saw as clear as the half-grin on his face that Raf was going to kiss me. Before I could make my lips move, I thought, STOP!

  And then my brain exploded. Electric shocks seemed to sizzle through it, and tiny phantom stars flew past my eyes.

  Raf crumpled. He folded in on himself like a marionette whose strings had been cut by an evil puppet-master. His head hit the bench, and my arms automatically shot out to catch him as he slid off the high stool. I couldn’t stop him, couldn’t even slow him down as he headed for the floor. I managed to get under him, to cushion his fall and keep his head from hitting the stone tiles of the chem lab floor. Pain stabbed my ankle as it twisted under Raf’s dead weight.

  My head swam with dizziness. Had I hit my own head on the way down? Those tiny stars danced in and out of my field of view. I wrestled with Raf’s body, trying to move him without dumping him on the floor. I finally wriggled free and rolled him on his back. His wide-open eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling. A chill ran through me like a ghostly wind.

  Oh my god. I killed him.

  My hands fluttered, useless, over his body. After a terrifying stretch of seconds, it occurred to me to check his breathing. I bent my ear to his mouth, and a warm draft brushed it.

  Oh thank god. My hands trembled as I gently shook his shoulders. “Raf! Raf!” He just lay on the floor like a perfectly sculpted mannequin. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and tried to think. Oh, please, Raf, wake up! I decided I should check his pulse, so I bent over him again, only to find him blinking back at me.

  “Raf?” I gaped.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Water pooled in my eyes. “Wh… what happened? You almost scared me to death, that’s what happened!” I shook from head to toe. My hands did that fluttering thing again. He struggled to get up, only to press a hand to his head and roll back down again. He made a noise that sounded like “ugh” and closed his eyes.

  My panic surged. “Raf! Are you okay?”

  “Merda… my head.” He didn’t move.

  A rush of relief calmed my hands, and I let out a shaky laugh. If Raf could curse, he would probably live. I gently pried his hand away from his head. The angry red lump on his forehead was turning purple as the blood pooled under his skin.

  “You’ve got a serious bump, Raf.” The visible sign of his injury was oddly soothing. He winced when he found the growing bump. “What the… How did I end up on the floor?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Sorry, Raf, I nearly killed you with my incredible mind powers? It was ridiculous. No. Stick to the facts. “Well, you took a head-dive into the lab bench.” I gestured behind us to the abandoned homework station. “And then you fell off your stool, and I kind of cushioned your fall.” My right ankle throbbed, but I ignored it.

  “Did you say something, right before…” He struggled up to rest on his elbow. I felt the blood rush out of my face. “I think I heard you, Kira. In my mind. You said something, but I know your lips didn’t move, because…” He gave a tiny smile. “Because I was kind of staring at your lips at the time.”

  “Wh…” My voice faded away. “What did I say?”

  “That’s just it, I can’t remember.” He frowned. “Maybe it’s the bump on the head.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed quickly. “I mean, you can’t hear what I’m thinking now, right?”

  He peered at me. “Are you thinking I’m some kind of idiot that faints during homework?”

  I laughed but it sounded choked. My hand shook again. “Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking. That, and we need to get you to the hospital. C’mon.” I stood, and my twisted ankle screamed its displeasure. A wave of dizziness made me sway.

  “Are you okay?” He tried to find the source of my pain.

  “Yes, but you might want to lay off Mama Santos’s desserts.” I groaned dramatically as I pulled
him to standing. Cautiously putting weight on my injured foot, I pretended to inspect his strong, lanky form. “I don’t know where you put it, but you weigh as much as Seamus.”

  He lit a brilliant smile, then went serious when he saw me favor my right foot. “Maybe you need to go to the hospital with me.”

  “Oh, I’m going with you. Someone needs to keep you from taking another header into the pavement.” I limped to the bench and hastily stuffed our things into the backpacks. He took both packs from me and slung them over his shoulder. I slid my hand around his offered elbow to support my treacherous ankle, glad to feel him warm and alive. Everyone was still in class, so our conspicuous bare-armed grip went unnoticed as we hobbled to the nurse’s office.

  I clenched my free hand the whole way to keep it from shaking.

  I think Raf’s mom caused him more pain than the lump.

  Ana Amaro Santos clicked into the office on her high heels only minutes after the school nurse called. Mrs. Santos hovered over Raf, petting his hair with her manicured hands and mindtalking to him in a way that made the nurse grin and Raf’s face flush deep red.

  I couldn’t hear any of their thoughts, like always. I hugged the edges of the cramped nurse’s office, keeping my distance. I tried to think about good things in case my thoughts came to life again, like a nightmarish wish come true. Maybe it was only a coincidence. Maybe Raf happened to faint at the same time that my mind ordered him to stop trying to kiss me. But a quiver had taken hold of my stomach, and I knew it wasn’t simply chance. That electric storm in my brain had done something to Raf. Everyone said that when they changed, they felt different inside their brains. I knew something had shifted inside me, but it wasn’t the change I had been waiting for all these years. I had turned into something dangerous instead.

  I was afraid everyone could see the guilt on my face. But no one did.

  Mama Santos took Raf to the hospital to make sure the bump was all show and no concussion. His mom would have the doctors run tests until she was satisfied he didn’t have a brain tumor, but I was pretty sure Raf would recover from his encounter with the benchtop. The nurse insisted on bandaging my ankle until I could barely shove on my shoe.

  I limped through the heat on the walk home, taking my chances with the ankle rather than risking a ride on the bus. Mom was out, probably dropping Dad off at the base, although he could have taken the autocab. I was thankful she was safely away from whatever was wrong with my brain. I ditched the bandage as soon as I got home, hoping to avoid any questions. It jammed up the kitchen trash bowl, and I had to punch the button three times to flush it away.

  My hands still shook from the trauma with Raf, and my stomach grumbled from the lack of lunch. I craved something warm and glared at the mindware interface for the flash oven, wondering why I had never bothered to learn the manual controls. Navigating the touch pad instructions was like translating Latin. After a minute, I gave up and slammed my hand down on the stone counter. The satisfyingly loud smack felt like it would leave a bruise.

  “Kira?” My mom’s voice startled me so badly that I nearly tumbled over my weak ankle. I hadn’t heard her come up the stairs, but she hovered in the kitchen doorway, her white shirt rumpled and her face harried, as though she had rushed back to make sure I wasn’t home alone.

  Except that it was safer for everyone if I was alone.

  “You’re home early.” She had that bomb-squad look again, like she thought I might blow with the slightest jostle. Only this time, it made me shiver. Think good thoughts. I couldn’t let my brain malfunction again.

  “Yeah. I skipped band practice.” I edged along the counter away from her. Just in case.

  She held still, poised in the doorway. “Why?”

  I grabbed a box of cheese crackers to keep my hands from shaking. “Well, um, Raf fell and hit his head and had to go to the hospital.”

  A strange mixture of relief and concern warred on her face. “That’s awful.” She seemed to decide it was safe to enter the room. The refrigerator panel sprung open at her mental command.

  “Is he okay?” She pulled out a container of milk.

  “I think so. His mom came to school and got him. I asked him to scrit me when he gets done with all the tests.”

  “Good.” She poured the milk into a glass. “I dropped your father off at the base. He said to say goodbye, and that you could call him if you needed anything.”

  A nervous giggle threatened to escape me, and I clamped my teeth tight. Normally, my dad was incommunicado during his deployments. If he was giving me phone privileges, he must really be worried about me starting school as a confirmed zero. If he only knew. Being a zero was the least of my problems now.

  My mom stared, still holding the glass of milk. It was probably meant for me, but I didn’t want her coming any closer. I stuffed a handful of stale crackers in my mouth.

  “I’m going to the doctor’s office later to look at the hearing aids.” She eyed me, then took a sip of the milk.

  “Great,” I said too quickly, glad I had already told her yesterday to go without me. The last thing I needed was a doctor prodding me. I swallowed the dry crackers and scooted along the periphery of the room.

  I escaped the kitchen and scurried up the stairs before Mom could question my bizarre behavior. My room looked as though an angry fairy princess had ransacked it to reclaim her things. I curled under the rosy comforter, the only spot of girly left behind. It was only last night that I had decided to be tough, a warrior that no one would mess with. Now it seemed like I was a weapon that might go off at any moment.

  It creeped me out.

  Returning to school tomorrow seemed like a tragically bad idea. Who knew what might happen? What if Shark Boy found me alone in the hall? Would I strike him down in flash of fear? Mom was running out to get the hearing aid tonight. What if the small minds of heavenly wrath decided to hassle me about it, and I slew the whole lot of them in a fit of anger?

  A picture sprung up in my mind—students slumped over their desks in Mr. Chance’s class, staring but unseeing. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of something else, anything else. I had to believe I wasn’t going to kill everyone simply by going to school. After all, I hadn’t mowed down the nurse or Mama Santos or my mom. It had taken the near epic event of Raf almost kissing me to bring on this brain catastrophe, so an ordinary day at school couldn’t be too hazardous.

  Could it?

  The trembling of my hand wasn’t very reassuring.

  It was after lunch, and no one had died yet, so I took that as a good sign.

  Raf was absent from Mr. Chance’s class, but he would be back soon. With Mama Santos clucking over him, he wouldn’t stay home any longer than necessary. His scrit from the hospital verified he would live: Head as thick as it seems. Doing ok.

  It was just as well he wasn’t in school. I didn’t need to worry about him while I was concentrating on not knocking out people with my scary mind powers.

  My teachers whispered through the new mini-mics that came with my hearing aid, which eased the ringing silence of school. Some could barely whisper and think at the same time, but Mr. Barkley was completely mesh about it in math. He took the mic patch and stuck it smoothly on the back of his ear in one quick motion. Maybe he had another zero in a previous class.

  We tried it out as the other students drifted in and took their seats.

  “Testing… testing…,” he whispered as he stood by the board a dozen feet away. I smiled to show that it worked fine. “I’m glad you got this, Kira.” His lips barely moved, and I only heard him through the mic. “I expect you to do even better on the exams this year.” The other students were all in range to hear his thoughts, even if they couldn’t hear his whisper. My cheeks ran hot, but if Mr. Barkley whispered everything he was thinking during class, I would finally have an equal footing and might actually pass his class.

  The glow of Mr. Barkley’s praise carried me down the aisle. The class had filled, and the onl
y open seat was directly in front of Simon Zagan. His brooding eyes captured me in their tractor beams again. Think good thoughts. Simon didn’t deserve to be the next victim of my uncontrollable brain surges, even if he and Shark Boy could start a Creep Club together.

  As I willed my legs to move toward him, his face pinched in. He probably wondered why I wasn’t returning his glare. When I dropped into my seat, his stare burned a hot spot on the back of my head.

  Mr. Barkley’s voice whispered in my ear, and once the class got under way, I forgot about the looming force of antagonism behind me. I had missed a lot the past two days and gave silent thanks for Mom and her eagerness. The tiny bud was barely visible once tucked in my ear, although the entire class had to know the zero had a new crutch. Those concerns were buried under my preoccupation with catching up and keeping everyone safe from my thoughts.

  Near the end of class, the tap of a warm fingertip seeped through my t-shirt. It had to come from Simon. I seriously debated ignoring him, but then his breath fell on my ear. “I have something to show you.” A shiver ran down my back. Before I thought of something not-hostile to say, he was out of his seat and halfway to the door.

  A piece of paper had appeared on my desk. As I unfolded the note, the chill settled into my stomach. In messy handprinting it said: Meet me in the chem lab next period.

  I didn’t know what Simon was thinking, but there was no way I was meeting him in the empty chem lab. How did he know I had a free period anyway? Maybe he was stalking me. Maybe he was like Shark Boy and wanted to get me alone in a dark, empty classroom. Well, I might be coming unhinged in thinking I had strange mind powers, but I wasn’t stupid. Simon could find someone else to play with.

  I spent my free period in the library, studying the copious notes I had taken through the day. When the workpod with the manual interface was free, I pulled down some research articles for a paper in history. The silence didn’t bother me nearly as much when I had work to do. How could I be a week behind when school had only been in session for three days?

 

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