Talent

by Annie B Matthews

  His lips firmed into a thin line. “I have no idea. We need to talk though and I guess today’s as good a day as any.”

  She didn’t even pretend to understand what he was talking about. “So let’s find somewhere…better.”

  “No,” he shook his head, his eyes still steady on hers. It was as though they were the only ones in the room. She couldn’t feel anything now, except her own nerves thrumming like live wires across her skin. “I’ll find you after you're done.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t want to move, but nerves were skittering into panic and what self-preservation she had left told her it was time to leave. “I have Chemistry.”

  “I know.” This time, his lips kicked up in a quick grin, but she didn’t know what was so funny.

  She opened her mouth to ask, then shook her head. Later.

  She didn’t look back on her way out of the canteen. As she walked down the corridor, Libby’s thoughts were in turmoil. They did need to talk. She needed that quite badly but she hardly knew why. The link she felt with him was nothing short of bizarre, but it was there, almost visible to her in its intensity. She wondered, not for the first time, if he felt it too.

  She grimaced as she felt a trickle of someone else’s amusement run through her. She was not amused and didn’t appreciate the interruption. She focused hard on the experiment evaluation they were writing in Chemistry, managed to tune out the foreign emotions as students crowded the hallway. There were too many people heading to class, too much noise. It took all her energy to focus away from it. She managed though and had just started to relax when it hit her.

  The terror was like a concrete wave, submerging her, slamming her backwards. She gasped, her hands grabbing for something to stabilize herself. There was nothing. Even as she felt the wall of the corridor cool against her clammy palms, she could barely stand. Her vision wavered.

  Everything was dark, desolate. She heard someone cry out, recognized her own voice.

  Someone grabbed her arm, yanked her aside. Jackson.

  Her breath was coming in sobs, her hands tearing at her throat where she felt the slide of an invisible noose. “Stop it, please. I can’t-”

  “Libby. Enough.” His voice was hard, his grip tight as he held her upright. A single shake and the feeling left her as quickly as it had come. She felt her legs collapse beneath her.

  “Steady.” His arms caught her, holding her anchored. “It’s alright.”

  “No, no. Let me go!” Struggling for balance, she pushed him away. Confused, trembling, she took in the empty classroom. She had to find him. Now. “Oh God.”

  He beat her to the door, barred her path. “What is it?”

  “This boy, I don’t know. It’s…He’s in trouble. I think he’s going to die.” Her eyes were wide with fear, her voice barely audible.

  Cursing, Jackson threw open the door. “Which way?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t-” She stared as Jackson took off towards the library. After a moment, she followed him. The corridors had emptied considerably and only a few students passed them, each looking curiously at Libby as she stumbled in Jackson’s wake.

  When he stopped, she all but ran into him.

  “He’s in the library.” His voice was terse. “I see it.”

  Cautiously Libby focused, felt the darkness returning. She jolted back as she blocked it out again. “It’s him. What do we do?”

  Jackson looked at her, assessing. She straightened slightly under the inspection. She might be shaken, but she wasn’t completely useless.

  “Can you get to the counselor? Tell her you heard the boy on the phone or something.”

  “I...” She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. She wasn’t sure what he meant. “Jackson…?”

  “I’ll make sure he stays here. Hurry up.”

  He turned into the library, leaving her standing with her mouth open in shock.

  Did he know? How could he possibly?

  Prioritize, she ordered herself. Hurrying back towards Student Services, she ran over her lines, hoping that her explanation would seem plausible.

  The counselor was in her office, door open as if she were expecting someone.

  “Miss Jones.”

  She looked up at Libby’s breathless entrance, face creased in concentration. “Yes?”

  “I need you to come with me. There’s this boy.” She took a breath, steadied herself. “I just heard him on the phone at the end of lunch. He was terrified. He thinks he’s going to die. I’m not sure what it’s about, but it…it was real. He was quite desperate.”

  “Where is he?” Convinced by Libby’s genuine distress, the woman got to her feet and was around the desk before Libby could respond.

  “He’s in the library.”

  She followed Miss Jones back to the library, but hung back as the counselor entered. There was no way she was going inside, no way was she prepared to feel that hideous despair again. Jackson appeared immediately, his expression unreadable.

  “Let’s go.”

  “But…” She stared at him, perplexed. “I have class.”

  “What, you’ve never skipped before?” His shook his head. “Of course you haven’t. Stupid question.”

  “We can’t just leave.”

  “We can. We are. She’s handling it. He’ll talk to her.” He held open the door to the car park, gestured her through.

  Numb, she followed him without further protest. He walked quickly, no doubt keen to put as much distance between them and the school as possible. She knew the feeling. She was still shaking from the strength of that boy’s fear. It was difficult to leave, not knowing what had made him so terribly scared. The only thing calming her was Jackson’s absolute confidence that the counselor had the situation in hand. She had no idea how he could possibly know this. And what was that before? He had seemed to understand exactly what was happening. How?

  When they reached Danny’s car, he stopped and flicked out a pen knife.

  “What are you doing?” She glared at him as he jimmied the lock and opened the door.

  “Just get in.”

  Irritation took over her concerns about the boy, but she threw her bag into the back and slid into the passenger seat as he walked around the car to climb in beside her. They sat in silence. Jackson stared out of the window, seemingly oblivious to Libby’s curious gaze.

  Finally, she lost patience. “Ok, talk. And you can start by explaining what just happened in there.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jackson grimaced, shifting in his seat to face her. His eyes were wary, but resigned.

  “What did happen?”

  She took a deep breath in an attempt to keep her temper in check. “You didn’t ask how I knew about that boy…but you knew I’d need some reason to give the counselor for what had happened. You knew where he was…you said ‘I see it’.” She paused, pressed her fingers against her eyes. Her hands still trembled. Angry, she clenched them into fists as she turned to look at him, “’I see it’. What the hell does that mean?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “It means exactly what you think it means.”

  She snorted in disbelief and her voice dripped with sarcasm. “You could see him in the library even though the doors were closed. Right.”

  “Right.” He waited for her astonished gaze to return to his before going on. “You were getting headaches, every day. Then after…then you had a terrible migraine, slept for a whole day. You woke up realizing that you could sense everyone else’s emotions.”

  “You…” She gaped at him, incredulous, desperately hopeful, although for what she wasn’t sure. “How do you know?”

  He laughed. “You should see your face. I know because you’re not the only one with talents.”

  “Talents?” She echoed him stupidly.

  “Yes, talents. You’re an empath.”

  He watched her, waiting.

  An empath. Someone who senses emotions. She’d barely familiarized herself with the t
erm, and hearing Jackson use it so casually was disconcerting. She frowned as she thought it through, measured his words against her experiences this week.

  “And you know this because?”

  “Ah.” He sat back in the seat, glancing away from her with a grimace. “This is the bit you’re not going to like.”

  A horrible feeling slid through her, had her stomach turning. “You’re not a…an empath.”

  She remembered the way he’d laughed for no real reason, the looks he’d shared with Kelly and Danny. The way he’d scowl and leave as though someone had said something offensive to him.

  “You…”

  “I’m telepathic. I read people’s thoughts. Sometimes I hear them, sometimes I can see them, like a movie…it’s hard to describe.” He watched her warily.

  The implications of this trickled through her consciousness. How much did he know about her mum, her feelings about…everything? How many times had he heard her thinking of him?

  “Including mine?” Her voice sounded distant, frail.

  He nodded. For a moment she thought he was going to say something, but he pressed his lips together in a firm line.

  Mortification rushed through her in the silence that followed, painful and angry. Was there nothing he hadn’t learned about her?

  She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole, taking Jackson with her.

  “I think I hate you.”

  The words held no real rancor, but she knew he’d know that she didn’t mean them. She couldn’t mean them, as much as she might want to. Every feeling had rushed out of her as quickly as they had come, leaving her curiously empty. Libby reached for the handle and opened the door. She paused, wanting to speak but she couldn't quite find the words. After a moment she gave up trying and got out of the car.

  He didn’t try to stop her.

  “Hey Libs!”

  Kelly’s voice rang out before she’d taken two steps from the car. Libby turned automatically. Students streamed out of the school buildings, blissfully unaware and raucous with freedom. She knew immediately, from the expression on Kelly’s face, from the concern and worry that rolled out from her, that Kelly had the same talent as her brother.

  Hurt ripped through her, and she took a step back in defense.

  “Wait, please.” Kelly’s eyes were wide and pleading as she ran towards her. “Just listen. Jackson didn’t explain it right. Please…please let me explain.”

  Libby shook her head, not wanting to stay. Her mind was crowded with the shock of new knowledge, racing with questions. She couldn’t do this now, she couldn’t confront the girl she’d considered a friend.

  “No. Don’t. I don’t see how you can.”

  “Let me try. I’ll walk home with you. Give me ten minutes, then if you want I’ll leave you alone.”

  She watched Kelly’s eyes dampen, felt the start of tears in her own. She looked down at the ground, a pitiful defense. “Fine.”

  She felt Kelly behind her as she stalked across the car park to the road. Guilt and fear surrounded her, and she struggled to block it out since she couldn’t focus on anything else right now. At least she knew Kelly’s regret was genuine, she thought bitterly.

  “So talk.”

  “I didn’t read you. Not all the time.” The hasty amendment had Libby cringing. “We can block it you know, easier than you can since we’ve grown up with this. I only peeked in a couple of times and I can tell you exactly when.”

  Libby believed her, but that didn’t make it alright. “Tell me.”

  “Okay, the first time was the second day after you started school and you were sitting with those two girls. You remember?” She waited for Libby’s answering nod. “Jack…well, that’s his story. I just had a look, to see what you were thinking. You were completely bored and worrying about a girl called Sally.”

  “Hmph.”

  “So that was like a character check, you know.” Kelly rushed on. “And the second time was when we started spending all that time together. I knew you liked Jackson-”

  “Did you now?”

  The cynicism had Kelly on the defensive.

  “Please. It was so obvious I didn’t need to look - you turn beetroot every time he gets within a mile. Anyway, I wondered if you were being friendly with me because of Jack. I didn’t think so, but I wanted to be sure.”

  Libby stopped walking, turned to face Kelly incredulously. “You really think I’d be friends with someone just because I fancied their brother? Gee, thanks Kelly.”

  “I didn’t know you that well, and it’s happened before.”

  Libby raised an eyebrow in disbelief and Kelly waved a hand dismissively. “It’s true. But not relevant, so... Next, we were at your place that night your parents were out. You didn’t want to tell me that you had a thing for Jackson in case I got upset.”

  “I don’t have a thing for Jackson.”

  Libby’s feeble protest was ignored. “You didn’t want to lose me as a friend.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment. Libby rubbed a hand over her eyes. She felt absolutely exhausted. “No, I really didn’t.”

  “And the last time was when your mum left.” Kelly grimaced. “You wouldn’t say much but I could see you were hurting over it. So I just checked up on you, you know, to make sure you really were coping. That’s when I realized you had finally developed the empath talent.”

  “Finally?”

  “I knew you were one of us.”

  She knew, feeling the redhead’s earnestness, that it was all true. Libby sighed, wondering how exactly her life had turned into a sci-fi.

  “Please don’t hate me.”

  She smiled a little. “I don’t hate you.”

  Kelly burst into tears, throwing her arms around Libby’s neck. “I’m so glad. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t. Even though you were a talent, you didn’t know it so we couldn’t tell you. You understand, don’t you?”

  Holding onto Kelly, Libby had to admit that she did understand. She’d probably have thought Kelly a complete fruitcake.

  “Exactly.” Kelly pulled away sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  Libby laughed, then laughed again as she and Kelly mopped up their tears. “I guess this will take some getting used to.”

  They continued walking, arm in arm. All the anger had drained out of her and she felt relief now. Relief at not being alone in this, relief at being able to keep Kelly. It seemed too good to be true, that she had a friend who could explain this to her. So often in the last few days she had been tempted to call Sally, before chickening out. How could she have explained this, after all?

  “It’s not just you and Jackson, then?”

  “No, there are thousands of talents. My whole family reads minds, although the talent skipped over my cousin Lexie and that really pisses her off. Danny’s telepathic too…gets it from his father. His dad’s a multi talent though, he can also trace people.”

  “Missing persons?” Libby joked.

  “Pretty much,” Kelly nodded. “He consults with the police a lot. He was a detective but started private investigations some years ago so he could work on cases his own way.”

  Stunned, Libby couldn’t even respond for a moment. “Wow. What about Danny’s mum?”

  Kelly pulled a face. “She’s not around.”

  She was curious, but didn’t push since it was clearly none of her business. Instead, she asked another question. The question that seemed more important than anything else right now.

  “How often was Jackson listening in?”

  Kelly hesitated. “You should ask him about that.”

  Libby felt her body tense. “I’m asking you.”

  Kelly scrunched up her face. “A lot. But it’s not what you think.”

  “Jesus, Kelly. A lot? How much is a lot?”

  “I really can’t say.” She was agitated now.

  Libby glanced across at her friend, realization dawning. “You know something.”

 
; It wasn’t about her. It was about the situation with Jackson. She was certain of that.

  “You really should talk to him, Libby.” Kelly chewed on her lip, anxious as they turned into Libby’s street.

  Talk to him? Libby couldn’t even think of him without her face flooding with the heat of humiliation. And what exactly was there to say? Jackson could read her mind, had been privy to every thought she’d had, every daydream that had featured him in glorious technicolour, everything she was.

  No, she wouldn’t be talking to him any time soon.

  “No way,” she said out loud. “No.”

  As they reached her house, Kelly stopped walking. “Are you going to be okay? Would you like me to stay?”

  Libby shook her head. “Thanks, but I could do with some time to deal with this.”

  “You’re sure?” Even as she spoke, Libby saw Danny’s car turn onto the street. He was alone. Figures, she thought bitterly.

  “I'm fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Kelly was worried. She could see it in her hesitation, felt it like a thick blanket. Despite herself, Libby was comforted by the concern.

  “Danny says that boy, Mark, will be okay. The counselor had him in session before we left campus, and his parents were on their way.”

  Libby nodded, grateful for the news. Just one less thing to worry about.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she repeated, her voice calmer than it had been.

  “See you.” Kelly sent her a worried look from the passenger seat, as though she was still undecided about whether she should leave.

  I’ll be fine.

  Libby watched the half smile on her friend’s face as the car pulled away. This mind reading was really quite handy, she mused as she let herself into the house. She just had to figure out how to get around it.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day began with Biology. Despite the fact she had hardly slept for thinking about the turn her life had taken, Libby was feeling pretty alert.

  She had been apprehensive, wondering if things would be awkward between her and Kelly. To her relief it was as though nothing had happened, or rather, as though everything had, but it just made things better. By unspoken agreement, neither of them mentioned Jackson, or the boy whose depression had hit Libby so unexpectedly.