Chapter 2
“Café was robbed, one person shot. They just announced it on the news.” Grandma lifted her remote and turned the volume down on the T.V. nestled in the far corner of the counter. She was settled behind the round table where we ate all of our meals. A table that, according to her, had come across the ocean with her English grandparents over one-hundred years ago. I was pretty sure I remembered her buying it at a garage sale when I was a kid. Still, it was one of the few things that continued to travel with us as we moved from state to state, and its familiarity was welcome.
Hello to you too, Grandma.
I dropped my backpack on the kitchen table and headed straight for the refrigerator, my sneakers squeaking in protest over the pea green 1970’s linoleum. I shouldn’t have been annoyed by Grandma’s blatant attempt to pry. I’d been living with her since I was five and my ability had surfaced. Grandma hadn’t said so, but it was obvious Mom pretty much thought I was a freak and had shoved me into Grandma’s capable arms, the one person who understood. Another freak.
I barely remembered Mom. But overall, my childhood hadn’t been horrible. Lonely, as we’d moved a lot; a little complicated as Grandma had to explain away my uncanny ability to know what others were thinking. But I couldn’t complain. I had a roof over my head and plenty to eat. Most importantly, she protected me as well as she could.
Grandma didn’t look like your typical old lady. Yeah, she was in her fifties, but she colored her dark hair and refused to cover her trim body with something as hideous as a housecoat. I got my hair and eye color from her, but my smaller features from my mom’s side of the family. Grandma was blunt and a little cold and it showed in her narrow face. But she’d taken care of me when no one else would, and for that I was reluctantly thankful.
“Anyone die?” I asked, pretending a nonchalance I certainly didn’t feel.
“Nope.” She said the word with ease. Her lack of empathy had always bothered me, but I guess years of running for your life would do that to a person. She snapped her cookbook shut and peered up at me through her wire-rimmed glasses. I tried to ignore her hazel eyes, but it was impossible. I swear Grandma’s beady gaze could not only read a person’s mind, but a person’s soul. It was why I’d never lied to her. What was the point when she’d know the truth?
I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the refrigerator and couldn’t deny the relief that released sweetly from my gut. No one had died. Just injured. No death. No guilt. At least not this time. But it was there, always in the back of my mind. Shame was the worst of it, knowing I could help if I’d just open my mouth. But as Grandma had taught me early on, there were worse things than feeling guilty, like feeling dead. I hadn’t realized a person could “feel” dead, but knew it was pointless to argue with Grandma.
“Cameron, isn’t that the café you visit?”
I pulled the refrigerator door wide, the burst of cold air adding to my unease. As if she didn’t know where I went. As if she didn’t know every tiny thing I did. “Yeah.”
“Were you there?”
I pulled out a can of cherry coke, letting the chill aluminum numb my fingers, hoping that numbness would move to my heart, my gut, my brain. No such luck. “Yeah. I was there”
There was a short pause. I knew what she would ask next. Not that I could read her mind. I’d never been able to read Grandma’s thoughts like I could others. Grandma had learned, over the years, how to keep her thoughts to herself. An ability she refused to share with me and I knew why…then she wouldn’t be able to spy on me. Her power would be gone. And at times like this, I resented the hell out of her.
“Did you know?” she asked, her own voice casual.
Did I know the man was going to rob the café? Did I know he had a gun? Did I know someone might die and I could stop it? I swiped my hands on my jeans, wiping away the condensation. Slowly, I nodded.
“You didn’t say anything?”
Annoyed, I released a puff of air through pursed lips. Why did she even bother asking? She knew the answer. “No,” I grumbled.
“Good girl.”
Why did I suddenly feel like a loyal dog? She pushed her chair away from the table, the legs screeching across the linoleum, and stood. “You’d only be courting questions and trouble. You remember what happened in Michigan. Always remember that when you want to warn someone. I’m going to the garden.”
Michigan. There it was again. As if I could ever forget the incident. The time I’d blabbed and we’d almost been caught. The time I’d realized I couldn’t trust anyone with my secret.
I watched her move to the door, my bitterness growing with each step she took. Whenever she praised me for keeping quiet, it felt so patronizing. Like inside she was smirking. Good little girl had done what she’d been told once again because she was too afraid to rebel.
The screen door banged against the frame and she disappeared into the back garden. Truth was, Grandma controlled me; she knew every one of my dark secrets, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. At times I felt beaten down, exposed, exhausted. Imprisoned like an animal at the zoo, constantly watched. One of these days she’d find me pacing my room…back…forth.
At other times I felt ready to explode, like a giant piñata full of secrets. I’d imagine myself standing on top of a table in the cafeteria and proclaiming to all that I could read minds…that for the past year I’d read every single one of their ridiculous thoughts. The idea left me grinning.
But in less than one year I’d be free of Grandma. She had to know I was eager to attend college, yet she never said anything. She had to know that when I went away, I could do whatever I wanted. She had to know I had plans to visit her as little as possible. Part of me worried that she had some nefarious plan to keep me by her side forever. I shuddered at the thought.
Slowly, as if pulled by some invisible string, I made my way to the screen door. Grandma stood in the middle of our small, overgrown yard, just stood there, looking at her stupid lilac bush. She worked on that thing night and day and still it didn’t bloom. Why, I wanted to know, would she waste her time? But she never could give me a proper answer. She’d lost her son, she’d lost her daughter-in-law and maybe she knew she was losing me. Was the lilac some desperate attempt to hold onto something?
A horn blared out front, pulling me from my morose thoughts. For a brief moment, I paused, feeling bad about leaving her here alone. She didn’t have friends, she didn’t have family but for me. Her entire life revolved around some desperate attempt to keep us safe from unknown enemies. I knew, deep down, she was only trying to protect me, but it didn’t make me feel any less caged. The horn blared again. If I stayed here, I’d become alone and bitter. I’d become her, and I couldn’t let that happen.
I set my pop on the counter and moved to the front door. Emily was parked alongside the curb, her new red convertible shiny, free of dents and scratches. I knew that wouldn’t last long, the girl had almost flunked Driver’s Ed. I hadn’t said how ridiculous it was to get a convertible when you lived in Maine. Icy roads and convertibles didn’t mesh. But Emily loved the car and Emily got what she wanted, everything but attention from her parents.
Blonde and blue eyed, she was everyone’s idea of perfection and she was my best friend. I couldn’t hate my abilities, no, because if I couldn’t read minds, I would never be friends with Emily. I would never get the grades I got, and I wouldn’t be as good at soccer as I was. I knew answers, I knew game plays, I knew what people were thinking practically before they did.
“Come on!” She waved me over, large Chanel sunglasses covering half her face. Fall in Maine was far from warm, but she liked to pretend she was some incarnate version of Audrey Hepburn. If anything, with my petite features and dark hair, I looked more like the old movie actress. But if Emily wanted to be Audrey, Emily got to be Audrey.
I rushed down the brick steps, eager to escape if only for the evening. Some days were harder to get through than oth
ers. Today was one of those days. At times I felt like I was acting; no one knew the real me. My smile wavered and I swallowed over the sudden lump in my throat. They only knew the person they wanted me to be. It was exhausting. But today I didn’t care. I wouldn’t care. Today no one had died at the café and I was going driving with my best friend. And most importantly, after today I’d no longer have to take the bus to school.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said the one thing she was waiting for me to say, the thing she wanted to hear. She could have gotten a car months ago, but had waited for them to ship this one specially from Germany or some other car-loving country. “You’re so lucky.”
Because we were constantly moving, it made it hard for me to get a job and buy my own car. Heck, I’d be happy to have my Grandma’s rusty Toyota.
Emily shrugged, but I knew she was thrilled I was envious. Emily’s desire was to be worshipped and envied by all. Not that she was a horrible person. No, she wasn’t. At least not deep down. I was the only one who knew she cried herself to sleep most nights. Both doctors, her parents were often gone and Emily looked for attention where she could get it. Of course she’d never admit that dark secret, but she didn’t need to. I pulled open the passenger door and settled onto the soft, black leather seat.
I held no illusions. I knew Emily and I wouldn’t be friends if it wasn’t for my ability. I knew exactly what Emily wanted me to do, think, say, and because of that, I was her perfect B.F. We sure as heck wouldn’t be friends if I told her what I was really thinking, but today that didn’t matter because the sky was clear and the air somewhat warm for October.
I smoothed my fingers over the armrest as Emily took off. I didn’t bother leaving Grandma a note. She knew where I was going. At least, she would until I got out of range. At some point, and I still wasn’t sure where, she wasn’t able to read my thoughts. It was a realization I’d stumbled upon three years ago when I’d gone off with a friend without telling Grandma, only to return and find her frantic with worry. The only time she’d shown she cared.
It was a thrilling feeling of escape that coursed through my body as we drove out of town toward the coast. Emily whipped around a curve and I fell into the door, laughing. Excitement followed Emily wherever she went. It was part of the reason why I had liked her immediately; she could make me forget that I was a freak. The world was a movie, and she was the star. At the moment she was pretending she was some hot spy and being chased by an equally hot guy. Of course she’d never admit how many times she invented movies in her head and she’d probably kill herself if she realized I knew.
Still, the days with my shallow friend were growing more difficult. There was only so much a person could take. I brushed aside the depressing thought.
“Where should we go?” I asked, a secret smile playing on my lips.
“Lakeside!” she said.
Lakeside was a diner near the ocean. Half the teens worked there after school, the other half hung out. There wasn’t a lot to do in our small town, but years ago the students had quickly taken over the restaurant as their own.
“So get this, Trevor suddenly has to study Saturday night.” Emily glanced briefly at me, interested in catching my reaction. The wind was blowing her hair around her perfect face. But while my hair was getting stuck in my mouth, whipping me in the eyes and wrapping around my neck in a chokehold, she somehow managed to look like a model in a print ad. Ugh, so not fair!
“What do you think?” she asked.
I thought, no, I knew Trevor was seeing someone else from another school. But I also knew how Emily wanted me to answer. I shrugged, not quite meeting her gaze. “Maybe his parents are on him about his grades.” Emily didn’t want to know he was cheating. Most people didn’t really want to know the truth.
“Yeah,” she seemed relieved. “That’s what I figured.”
Emily couldn’t stand the idea that someone would dump her. No, Emily dumped boys, boys didn’t dump her. Hurt them before they hurt her. She worried that was exactly what was happening with Trevor. I was no psychologist, but I’d seen plenty of episodes of Oprah and I wondered if her need to be adored had something to do with the fact that her parents were never around.
“If he keeps this up, I just might dump his ass. God, what does he expect? Doesn’t he know how many people would go out with me?”
She was arrogant, but she was right. I’d read plenty of horny teenage minds to know that 99% of the school’s male population wanted Emily. The other one percent were gay.
She followed the curvy road that ran along the coast, lurching this way and that. Thank God I didn’t get motion sickness. The ocean was rough, the winds and weather making the waves crest into white peaks that looked like snow. It was a volatile life we led here on the coast, and more than one fisherman drowned every year under the unrelenting power of the ocean. Despite the danger, I loved the feeling, the energy that surged from the waves…that secrecy of not knowing what was there underneath the water.
“I swear Kevin was checking me out the other day.”
For a moment I thought I’d heard her wrong. That the roar of the ocean had made me hear something she hadn’t really said. But no such luck, her thoughts were as clear as my own. My heart squeezed, even as I forced my smile to remain in place.
She was looking at the road, but she was wondering what I was thinking. “If Trevor doesn’t get his shit together, maybe I’ll go out with Kevin.”
My heart thundered painfully in my chest, my palms growing damp. The urge to shout out No! bounced around my skull. But I didn’t move, didn’t dare move for fear she’d read something in my gestures. Never show weakness. Never show weakness…
She slid me a sly glance. “You don’t still have a crush on him, do you?”
Yes. “No,” I somehow managed to get out, although my voice sounded strangled.
“I didn’t think so.”
Just like that my good mood fled. Time to face facts. I’d known she was changing, but most of us were. Half the senior class was nervous at the thought of graduating and being alone, the other half were eager to taste freedom. It was an odd year, full of odd emotions and I’d wanted to ignore the signs that Emily had finally taken a step fully into the dark side. Mostly, I had ignored her attitude because I didn’t want to look for new friends this late in the year, and her attacks had never been personal.
Morose, I rested my elbow on the window and gazed at the passing scenery. Less than half a year and I’d be gone. Another year and another new school. I’d been through so many educational systems, never staying long enough to make true friends, that I’d been desperate when we’d moved here a year ago. When Emily had taken an interest, I admit my self-esteem had savored the attention of the most popular girl in school.
I’d had a plan, enjoy senior year as best I could and try to go out on top. For the last two months I’d noticed her changing, but had hoped I could stick it out until graduation. But I couldn’t ignore her bitterness anymore. It was only one issue in a long list with reading minds… you knew a person’s true self. The self that was so dark and desperate, they’d do anything to keep it hidden.
She wanted me to feel horrible, less than her, she loved it. Knowing she could get any guy she wanted, and knowing I couldn’t, made her feel special. And so we used each other. Believe me, the irony wasn’t lost. But how much longer could I take her cattiness? Suddenly, graduating with friends didn’t seem so important.
The gray clapboard sided diner came into view, perched there on the edge of the sea, looking ready to tumble down at the first sign of a storm. Emily pulled into the parking lot, gravel crunching like boney victims under the wheels of her perfect car.
Although school had only been out an hour, the lot was already half full. And there was Kevin’s black SUV. A guy I hadn’t even had a chance to start a relationship with because I’d already lost him to Emily. And that’s how it was; I was friends with girls who were popular because I knew what th
ey wanted from me. I knew exactly what to say, when to say it. But while they got the boys and got to be prom queen, I stood cheering on the sidelines.
I barely listened to her happy chatter as we made our way up the rickety steps to the front porch. Emily was so caught up in her own conversation, she didn’t even notice the rat scurry across the steps. Every time we came to the diner, I was amazed it was still open. I’d expected the Health Department to shut the place down long ago. But if they shut it down, we’d have no place to go and that’s why the city left it alone.
“Hey! Cameron, I need to talk to you.” Annabeth came rushing across the deck where she’d been serving drinks to students brave enough to sit outside in the wind. She stuffed a couple dollars into the apron tied around her waist. Her pink sweater clashed with her red hair, and she’d never exactly been called gorgeous. Still, she was friendly and had soft brown eyes and a wide smile that always made me want to smile back. I liked her the moment we’d met. I’d been a new student and she’d been the first to talk to me. For that, I’d always be grateful.
“I’ll wait for you over there.” Emily hated Annabeth, not because she didn’t think Anne was popular or pretty enough. Nope, Emily was jealous because she didn’t like the fact that I spent time with someone other than her. She was also jealous that Annabeth was a genius at math and science while Emily could barely pass. I’d tried to explain this to Anne, but she couldn’t possibly believe the most popular girl in school would be jealous of her. Of course I couldn’t tell her that I knew it for a fact.
“What’s up, Anne?” I asked.
We leaned against the railing; I huddled deep within my jacket. The sun was setting, sending brilliant reds and oranges shimmering across the waves. When the sun set, the temperature dropped fast, but I wasn’t eager to go inside.
“I’ve met someone.”
I snapped my gaze toward her, more than surprised. As far as I knew, Annabeth had never dated anyone. “Who?”
George Miller she thought right before she said the words. “George Miller.” A man popped into her mind, an image she’d conjured. Tall and thin, with dark hair, brown eyes…actually kind of cute, but older than her. Definitely older and she was nervous that he was older. She didn’t want anyone to know.
“How old,” I blurted out before I thought better.
Her round face grew red and I knew she was wondering why I’d brought up the topic. Frantically, she tried to decide what to tell me, I could almost taste her nervousness.
Twenty-five. “Twenty,” she squeaked.
You’d be surprised how many people lie and how often. It was common, but still, it annoyed me because we were friends. I nodded slowly, wondering if I should call her out on her lie. Even a person without my abilities could tell she was fibbing. But I could sense Emily’s impatience from across the porch. She was about ready to interrupt and that would hurt Anne’s feelings.
“That’s cool,” I said.
She grinned, relieved I didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, gotta work, but do you want to meet him? He’s inside.”
No! I nodded. Not really. What creepy twenty-five year old would go out with someone who wasn’t even seventeen yet? “Yeah, sure. In a bit.”
She briefly clasped my hands, her fingers cold. “Okay great! See you in a minute.”
“Can’t wait,” I lied.
I watched her as she walked inside. Anne was only sixteen and looked even younger. Her mom would freak if she knew her daughter was dating someone nine years older. What would a man twenty-five years old want with Anne? Something was off and I couldn’t help but feel like everything was changing, and not for the good.
“What’d she want?” Emily muttered bitterly as she came to stand next to me.
“Nothing.” I sure as heck wasn’t going to tell Emily so she could mock Annabeth.
“Hey, ladies, what’s up?” Trevor strolled out the door, that arrogant smirk on his face that only the captain of the Basketball team could get away with. He leaned over to kiss Emily. What an idiot, he actually thought he could juggle two women and they wouldn’t find out. Okay, so maybe my opinion of Trevor was influenced by the fact that he thought my breasts were too small for his liking. Although I’m happy to report he’d still “do me,” as he’d thought the other day. As if he’d ever have the chance.
With a huff, Emily turned her head to the side. She was playing hard to get. She wanted him to beg and plead. I rolled my eyes. This could get nauseating real fast.
“What did I do now?” he asked with a sigh.
She snapped her head toward him. “Where were you last night?” She placed her hands on her hips; she meant business. “I called you, I text’d.”
He averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. “With the guys.”
Allow me to translate. With his other girlfriend.
“Playing video games in the basement.”
Making out.
He smiled his charming smile, those blue eyes twinkling. “You know I don’t get reception down there.”
He’d turned off his phone.
With a sigh, I spun around, giving them the privacy they didn’t seem to care about since they were arguing in the middle of the front porch. I didn’t have to read minds to know this wasn’t going to end well and then I’d have to pick up the pieces until Emily got a new boyfriend, which shouldn’t be long. A boyfriend who would most likely be Kevin. I felt sick.
Taking in a deep breath of chilly air, I gazed out over the ocean, attempting to calm my racing heart. You’d think a person who could read minds would be able to get a boyfriend. It’s not like I was totally disgusting, but I knew some people thought I was weird; quiet, standoffish and I knew a little too much. It was the same no matter where I’d lived. Still, being friends with Emily had helped keep the whispers at bay. No one would dare talk bad about the most popular girl’s best friend. What would they say about me when I finally had enough and dumped Emily?
“What do you mean you don’t believe me?” Trevor demanded, his voice rising with anger and panic.
I rolled my eyes. They’d had the same fight at least once a week for the past three months. I seriously didn’t understand why some people dated and honestly I didn’t think they really understood either. Afraid to be alone, I guess. I didn’t blame them. I’d been alone much of my life and frankly it sucked. I wanted that normalcy of living in the same town for more than two years. Of having life-long friendships, an actual boyfriend. Hopefully someday.
“Of course I don’t….” She paused for one long moment. “What’s that?” Emily was looking toward the shore where a piece of drift wood lay upon the gritty sand.
“Just driftwood,” I said.
She moved toward the steps, only to hesitate. “No, there’s something else…”
I narrowed my eyes and leaned over the railing, trying to get a better view. She was right, there was something there just behind the drift wood. I stepped closer to her. Near the shore lay a bundle. Something…I couldn’t quite see in the fading light. I moved off the steps, Emily following.
“Em,” Trevor whined, he wasn’t used to people just walking away from him.
I resisted the urge to tell him to shut up. It was most likely garbage, but I’d do anything to get out of listening to their fight. If Emily thought it was something great, like buried treasure, I’d follow along.
“Oh my God, Cameron, what is it?” Her fingers bit into my upper arm.
I shrugged off her tight grip. Emily was way too dramatic. Usually it was amusing but right now annoying. “It’s nothing. Probably…”
What was it? Something pale and narrow. The closer we got, the more our footsteps slowed. An odd sense of foreboding tingled through my body, yet I couldn’t seem to stop moving. Closer… closer. Turn back! My instincts screamed, but I couldn’t stop my feet from crunching through the sand. Something was sticking out of a bundle…something pale, narrow…a leg.
The
fine hairs on my arms stood on end. My heart denied what my mind knew was true.
A gray leg covered in dirt with brown seaweed wrapped around the calf. Sickening dread sank into the pit of my belly. I knew what it was, I knew what lay there, what horrors life was capable of.
Numb, I barely felt my body as I moved around the driftwood; was barely aware of Emily clutching my arm once again. It was like I wasn’t even there, but watching a television show. A green woolen blanket covered the body. But from that blanket her head was visible; long blonde hair matted with seaweed and sand. I froze, Emily pausing beside me. My body started trembling… shocking, violent trembles I couldn’t control.
Her pale eyes were wide open, staring unblinkingly at me. A familiar face. Now a ghastly face that would give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
I was aware of Emily screaming, but the high-pitched noise barely registered.
Savannah.
A girl who had moved to our town only a month ago. A sweet, southern girl, although I didn’t know her well. Now, a dead girl.
I staggered back into Emily’s warm, living body. My stomach roiled, the scenery before me going blurry. The scent of ocean and fish was too much. Acid rose to my throat and I knew I was going to be sick.
I was vaguely aware of people rushing from the diner, the panic of their jumbled thoughts mixed and clambered around in my head. Too much, too many thoughts. My brain ached; my skull felt as if it would burst open. I pressed my hands to my temples and stumbled back.
“What is it?” Trevor asked.
Someone pushed me aside and I spun around. A blur of people rushed by, blocking Savannah from view. Still, I merely stood there, jostled back and forth by curious students. I couldn’t think. I could barely remember to breathe.
“Oh my God,” I heard Emily cry, “is she dead?”
I killed her.
The foreign voice whispered through my head. A voice I didn’t recognize. I jerked my gaze upright. No one was looking at me… ten, fifteen faces pale in horror, focused on that body. But someone had said the words. I hadn’t imagined them, had I?
I killed her.
My heart jumped into my throat, my hands growing clammy. With a muffled cry, I spun around, studying the faces behind me. No one was smiling with accomplishment. No one looked guilty. More people were spilling from the diner, at least five kids were on their cell phones talking desperately to the police.
“Excuse me.” I pushed my way between the horrified group of gawking people.
I killed her.
I froze in the middle of the crush, a shiver- hot and cold- skimming my body. A male voice. Who? I turned, jerking my head this way and that. I had to find him. I must! I knew them all, some better than others, but this voice was unfamiliar. Who, here, would be capable of murder? The girl in front of me shifted, trying to get a better look. Behind her, near the parking lot, stood a stranger.
For one moment the entire world stilled. Nothing existed but that guy.
My heart thumped madly, almost painfully, against my rib cage. Dark hair, but I couldn’t see his eye color. Tall, average build, around my age. Dressed in jeans and a black jacket. As if sensing my attention, he turned his head ever so slightly and his gaze met mine.
I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped behind Trevor like the coward I was. The world came roaring back into focus. My breath came out in rapid pants, and fear was bitter on my tongue. Unable to resist, I peeked around Trevor.
The boy was gone.
The Mind Readers, Book 1 Page 2