by Alana Siegel
Unfortunately, it was not the time to relax. I spotted Chelsea at the opposite side of the hallway and felt a rush of adrenaline. The fear gave me the energy Jaime was looking for. She looked at me eagerly now that I was awake.
Trying to remain calm, I pushed off my locker and hid behind Jaime. “Do you think she saw me? Is she coming our way?” I attempted to make myself as small as possible. Other than in a classroom with a teacher standing guard between us, it hadn’t been even twenty-four hours since I last saw her, and I wasn’t in the mood for snide comments. Out of the corner of my eye I looked down the hall. Chelsea was standing with a petite, younger, blonde-haired girl.
“Who is she talking to?” I asked Jaime, keeping Chelsea in my viewpoint.
“That’s her sister. She’s a freshman,” Jaime informed me, impatiently.
“There are two of them at this school!?” I practically shouted at Jaime, walking out from behind her to get a better view. The other girl was the spitting image of Chelsea, perhaps without the thick exterior. I softened when I realized her sister was rubbing her eyes and crying. Chelsea had one arm wrapped around her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Maybe the quick quips and witty remarks really were a shield, and she was protecting more than just herself.
After fixing a few stray strands of her sister’s hair, Chelsea gave her one last hug, and led her into the nearest classroom. Instead of panic, I was feeling something else. Seeing this other side of Chelsea was heartwarming.
“Is it possible that Chelsea isn’t as cold-hearted as I thought?” I asked, perplexed.
Jaime grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward Chelsea. “Let’s find out,” she said, and then she screamed Chelsea’s name down the hall. Jaime tugged me a few feet before I could wrap my head around what was happening. Reality set in; she was taking me directly into the line of fire. I might have seen another side of Chelsea with her sister, but she wasn’t any friendlier to me. I tried to dig in my heels and stop Jaime from dragging me any further, but she was adamant.
“Chelsea!” Jaime shouted again, and I continued to fight against her. It was a losing battle.
Chelsea eventually took notice of someone calling her name and looked to see who was calling. It was too late for me to nonchalantly walk away, plus Jaime still had a death grip on my wrist. So instead I stood up straight, squaring my shoulders to brace myself for the verbal abuse.
Chelsea’s eyes traveled the length of the hall until they landed on me. With one scathing look, she foiled my attempt at looking casual. Forgetting all scenes of tenderness with her sister, fear flooded my body. I felt myself shrinking, wanting to melt into the floor.
I couldn’t look away from her. She exuded confidence and hatred. With each step Jaime and I took closer to her, she seethed, grinding her teeth in annoyance. If looks could kill, I would have been dead on the spot.
Too proud to walk away from a fight, Chelsea stood firmly in her place. Within an arm’s length of Chelsea, Jaime finally released my wrist. Chelsea glared up at me, and I returned her stare with wide eyes of dread.
“Can you two get along for ten minutes?” Jaime asked, switching looks between me and Chelsea and finally deciding Chelsea was the person she needed to address. “We need your help,” Jaime said.
“We do?” I asked forcibly, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. Jaime put her hand on my arm to comfort me.
“Yes, we do,” she confirmed. Chelsea reluctantly transferred her focus to Jaime, but kept the same distrust in her look.
“What could I possibly help you with?” Chelsea asked, placing her hand on her waist as she popped her hip.
“I have this feeling that Ms. Magos isn’t telling us everything,” Jaime said, scanning the hallway which was emptying around us.
I dropped my eye contact with Chelsea to glower at Jaime, “Of course she isn’t telling us everything. All teachers use that method of withholding information so we learn it on our own,” I said, frustrated.
“Maybe, but I feel like something sneaky is going on, like she is withholding knowledge about us that she never plans on sharing,” Jaime explained with waning patience.
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“When Mr. Stackhouse came out of the teacher’s lounge a few minutes ago, I caught a glimpse of Ms. Magos and Ms. Wolf sitting together, having a very private discussion. They mentioned the words 'Gifted family,' and then realized I was close by. I pretended not to hear, but she quickly shut the door. I could just tell something was going on,” she explained.
Winning over Chelsea’s interest, she finally chimed in, “Ms. Magos and Ms. Wolf? There’s a fifty year age gap between them. What could they possibly have to talk about that’s so secretive? Count me in. How can I help?”
Jaime glanced at Chelsea’s headband, slowly raising her hand to touch the silver metal, and said, “We need you to listen in.” A smile spread on Chelsea’s lips as she understood what Jaime was asking her to do, invisibly.
“Ok, Jaime, but I’m only doing this as a favor to you.” She backed away and walked down the hall toward the teacher’s lounge. She was cooperating with Jaime’s request, but that didn’t mean she stopped hating me. I felt relieved watching her disappear around the corner.
I was curious to find out what Chelsea was going to hear. Jaime and I were quiet and thoughtful as we made our way to the cafeteria. We sat down at the table we usually shared, but this time we sat next to each other. Taking out my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I began tucking the tin foil underneath my lunch to protect it from the sticky table.
“Why is it all a secret?” I asked Jaime. “Why don’t Gifted humans live side-by-side regular humans knowingly?” Jaime paused to think about my question.
“Maybe it’s self-preservation? Imagine every student in the school knowing you are different. We would be considered freaks that can create lightning and compel minds. Letting out the secret would be social suicide,” she said. She paused and looked at me, anxiously. “Have you told anyone?” She asked.
“No one.” For once I was relieved to admit I didn’t tell Helen. Then the guilt returned. What was I talking about? She would never make me feel like an outcast.
“I told Emma, my sister,” Jaime said. My jaw dropped, and I looked at her in disbelief. She kept her eyes on the sandwich in her hands as she took a bite rather than returning my gaze.
“I hoped she was part of the Gifted also. You know, so there was someone else to talk to,” Jaime said, and I knew exactly how she felt. “Unfortunately, Emma never heard of the Gifted, and she didn’t have a bracelet like mine. She asked if she could watch while I used my Gift. She didn’t believe me when I said that I couldn’t do it on demand,” Jaime continued, disappointment resonating in her words.
I put my arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. The swing of my arm was too wide, and I ended up knocking over the books that were stacked on the table between us. A pamphlet fell out of the book Ms. Magos gave to us.
“Have you seen this before?” She opened the pamphlet on to the table in front of us. It was called You and Your New Gift: A Self Help Guide written by The Meta. Jaime thumbed through the first few pages.
“Chapter One, Tips and Other Useful Hints. Number one: be sure to check the humidity on a hot summer day before putting on your jewelry. Large swings in emotions may cause heat lightning.” Jaime rolled her eyes and looked at me. “I guess we should have read through this before gym class with Max,” she said. I grabbed the pamphlet from her and continued reading.
“Number twelve: a cloudy, overcast day mixed with a generally sad feeling among a crowd is often a metaphysical reaction caused by someone’s Gift. Suggestions for adjusting the atmosphere would be natural sunlight, green tea, or hope,” I said, my smile widening. The brochure was making light of the situation Jaime and I considered dire. It was the first time I had laughed in awhile, and I mean a good hearty laugh.
“Number thirty-three: for people with a flair for drama. Pay
attention, Liv! To ward off close talkers and obsessed admirers, wear blue nail polish,” Jaime said between giggles.
“It does not say that!” I crinkled my nose. “And I don’t create drama on purpose. It always finds me,” I complained. She roared with laughter as I tore the book from her hands.
We flipped through the other chapters, enjoying the light-hearted nature of the pamphlet. Still, it left so many unanswered questions. Similar to a driving manual, You and Your New Gift could only tell us so much. It’s when you get behind the wheel and experience the road that you know what it’s like to drive.
Our laughter calmed, and we were quiet as the scent of vanilla touched our noses. We both began looking around. Becoming visible again, Chelsea marched up to our table.
“You can’t just appear and disappear in the middle of the cafeteria!” I hissed.
“Come on, no one ever notices. Plus, I found out some real dirt. Do you want to hear it or not?” she asked, placing her palms on the table and leaning in close to us. Jaime and I said yes in unison.
“Ms. Magos was bragging that there were five Gifted students under her supervision. She said that one student specifically had a rare Gift,” Chelsea said, pausing for dramatic effect. Jaime nodded her head, urging her to go on.
“Turns out Ms. Wolf is fully versed on the Gifted’s history. In a dramatic whisper she asked Ms. Magos if it was true that a descendant of the Elste family is in Pandora. Then, Ms. Magos looked around in a really paranoid way and whispered that she thinks so. She said she needs to test this Gifted student so she can report back to some guy named Prometheus. Ms. Wolf looked both appalled and curious,” Chelsea summarized. She stood up straight, looking smug that she had succeeded at the task. Jaime looked horrified.
It didn’t make any sense to me. The wheels in my head were spinning. Which one of us was a descendant of the Elste family? Didn’t the Superintendent say Prometheus was dangerous? Nothing added up.
Just then Helen walked up to our table in the cafeteria. She gave Chelsea a confused look before watching her walk away.
“What are we gossiping about?” Helen asked, keeping things casual. She must have assumed Chelsea only came over to insult me. It wasn’t exactly true, but I was happy to change the subject.
“Chelsea was giving Olivia some advice on how to pick up men,” Jaime said, attempting sarcasm, faking a laugh, and quickly disguising the confusion she portrayed seconds before.
It didn’t feel like a seamless segue into a safer conversation, but Helen went along with it and said, “Speaking of guys, Jaime, who are you going to bring to the homecoming dance?”
This was a topic that would have been top priority for me if I hadn't discovered my Gift. Between homework, projects, and the Gifted Program, there was only a small amount of time allotted in my schedule to figure out who I was going to take to homecoming. I longed for the days when that was the main concern.
Jaime worked on finding a date even less than I did. Spending more time with her over the past few days I realized that I used to be jealous of her easy conversation with guys, but I didn’t appreciate that her common interest in sports kept her in the friend zone. It was something I hadn’t accounted for when I watched the captain of the lacrosse team or the catcher of the baseball team approach her in the hallway.
Plus, Helen didn’t know that there were other things clouding Jaime’s mind. The dance was not her main concern. Jaime shrugged her shoulders, looking uncomfortable with the subject.
Even though I understood Jaime's relationship with the jocks, I felt an urge to protect her. “Jaime has guy friends that she knows from all the sports that she plays. I’m sure tons of them have already asked her,” I said, getting a little too defensive.
Helen stared at me as I realized my mistake. Her eyebrows were raised on her forehead, a clear sign that I had hurt her feelings. As my best friend, Helen could tell that I was putting up a wall the past few days. This was the first time that I was vocal about that wall. I was only trying to look out for Jaime’s feelings, but Helen thought I was teaming up against her and took my words as betrayal of our friendship.
She locked her jaw, and I watched her mood shift from hurt to angry. I sat shrinking in my seat. Her anger was rarely directed at me, but I had watched her fierce fights with her brothers. I cringed, knowing it would be best to keep quiet. When Helen was on a roll, there was no stopping her.
“Great,” she said with venom. “I heard Chelsea is going to the homecoming dance with Max. And you know what, having him as a date is better than having no one at all.” I practically spit out my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The statement was painful coming from Helen. She had little respect for Max after the way he treated me. Pointing out that being dateless was worse than going with Max was a low blow. I ran my hands nervously through my hair so she wouldn’t see the hurt on my face. I knew that I deserved her verbal attack.
Helen shook her head. Fighting with each other wasn’t going to help bridge the chasm that had now formed on each side of the wall I had built. She took a deep breath and changed the subject.
“Well, I think we could all use a break from the school drama. My parents are having a small barbeque on Tuesday night; why don’t you two come over?” She pasted a forced smile on her face, trying one last time to break down the wall between us. She was always good about not holding a grudge as long as I was appreciative and apologetic. I was thankful and ready to accept her invitation, but Jaime was the first to respond.
“Olivia and I will be working on our Global Studies project that night.” The excuse came out rushed, like we were uninterested in her family party. Helen was not even listening. She assumed we would clear our schedules for her family barbeque.
“We’ll need cupcakes, tablecloths, paper plates…” She looked at us excitedly.
“Helen, we’re doing research for our Global Studies project tomorrow night,” Jaime repeated. I had no choice but to nod in agreement. Feeling terrible, a knot grew in my stomach. The conversation had gone from bad to worse.
“You really aren’t coming?” She looked at both of us anxiously. Jaime and I returned her look apologetically.
“Fine…well I told my brother that I would meet him now.” With that, she got up from the table and left the cafeteria.
* * * *
Chapter Sixteen: I Wish You Knew
When Swisher jumped on my bed a few mornings later, I pulled the covers over my head and yelled at her to go away. I wasn't in the mood for her loud purring and gentle nudges. I softly pushed her off the bed. Poor Swisher felt the brunt of my worries, but her plea for attention was not the problem. I was low on energy to fight through each day. The harder I worked to pull myself together, the faster everything fell apart.
For the first time that I could remember, I did not want to go to school. It didn’t make any sense. I received good grades and was never the victim of any physical fights, yet I couldn’t collect my usual vigor and optimism for school.
Even the days that followed my break up with Max weren’t this depressing. It had been manageable because I had my best friend by my side to shield me from unwanted stares or stand up for me when I was too shy. Now I was a pariah without even announcing that I had weird abilities. I felt lonelier than ever before.
I forced myself out of bed, hurried through my morning routine, and into the SUV. Mom noticed my mood and after a few unsuccessful questions, she let me ride in the passenger seat in silence. With my forehead pressed against the glass, I stared out the window.
The weather outside was strange, and it wasn’t helping my sorrowful mood and self pity. Eight-thirty in the morning and the street lamps were still on. They created long ovals on the black paved street. Fog hung low in the air, making it hard to see. The darkness was creeping me out. I turned on the radio to distract myself.
“With the heavy fog creating a greenhouse effect, meteorologists are predicting a heat wave in Pandora County with temperatures in the high 80s. W
e could hit record highs for late autumn,” a radio personality announced.
“In other news, pilots and air traffic controllers discovered pockets of turbulence over Pandora that appear and disappear from the radars in unexplainable patterns…”
As the minutes continued, the stories turned more bizarre and frustrating. With unnecessary force, I switched off the radio. Mom gave me a worried look as I jumped out of the truck, but only told me to have a good day.
On my walk to the front doors of the school, I was almost blown over by a fierce gust of hot air. It felt like everything was fighting against me. The odd looks from the kids in school and the warm temperatures in autumn weren’t the worst part. I was scared because I knew it was related to the Gifted. I could feel the sizzle in the air. My necklace could sense the changes around me and it burned my skin, letting me know something big was coming. I made a mental note to analyze the odd weather later and tried to push the unsettling feeling aside.
I dragged my feet until I was at one end of the semi-circle driveway. Like a bad habit that I couldn’t break, I glanced at the smokers’ corner and caught sight of Max and Chelsea in an embrace. With arms wrapped around each other’s waists, there was hardly an inch of space between them. I almost doubled over from the ache in my chest.
Inflicting pain upon myself, I watched them kiss. It was an innocent kiss. In fact, it was tender and heartfelt, just like a kiss should be.
I’ve seen people kiss before, but this was different because they were his lips. Lips that had once caressed mine. I thought of the times he leaned in close to place my hair behind my ear or whisper sweet nothings. Those actions were no longer saved for me.
“Are you ok?” Jaime asked. I didn’t see her walk up next to me. She followed my gaze to see what I was looking at.
Was I ok? I didn’t turn to look at her. I didn’t want her to see how Max and Chelsea affected me. I tried, unsuccessfully, to put a smile on my face.
“I feel…nothing,” I said. This was true, in a sense. It felt more like a gaping hole than anything I could describe to her. I didn’t miss Max, I missed having someone care that deeply about me. Helen would have understood. I sighed.