Sound

by Juliet Madison

  “I’ll bring pizza,” said Riley. “I’ll order from here, then bring it over.”

  Damon took out his wallet. “Here, let me chip in.” He handed Riley some cash.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool. Thanks, man.”

  If they were girls, they’d be going back and forth saying, “Oh, it’s okay, thanks anyway,” “No seriously, take it,” “Thanks, that’s so nice, but I don’t mind paying,” “Neither do I, consider it a gift,” “Oh, you’re so sweet, but I feel bad if I don’t contribute,” “Don’t worry, let me pay this time,” and it would go on and on when you just wanted them to make a freaking decision and move the hell on.

  I placed the DVD on the counter.

  “Don’t you want to take advantage of five movies for ten dollars or ten movies for fifteen?” asked Riley.

  “That’s my man! What a sales guru you are.” Savannah high-fived him.

  “Oh, I guess so. Girls, what else should we get?”

  Savannah pried herself away from the love of her life to join me near the shelves, and Sasha had already picked up three romantic comedies. When we had ten, we paid, and Sasha took the bag with a wink, so I didn’t have to carry it to my “date.” She kept glancing outside, but Taylor was nowhere to be seen.

  “It was nice bumping into you,” said Damon. “I have to go now, supposed to meet someone for the world’s second-best hot chocolate.”

  His sense of humor was as appealing as his smile. “Yeah, I have to meet someone too. I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.” I smiled back.

  “Guess so.” He walked out.

  I walked out a moment later and was surprised to find him standing against the wall outside, waiting for me. “Oh there you are,” he said in pretend relief. “I thought maybe you were going to stand me up.”

  “And miss the world’s second-best hot chocolate? Never!” I laughed, and we walked toward Coffee Corner, which, weirdly, was not on a corner. My belly was so fluttery with what felt like psychotic butterflies intoxicated with Fresh Fruity Blast that I didn’t know how I’d be able to stomach a hot chocolate at all. But I’d try.

  • • •

  I sat at a chair in the café, and Damon went to sit but hesitated. “Oh, sorry, I meant to pull the chair out for you.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. Um,” I said, and having only just sat, I got up again. Damon moved my chair out a little and I sat back down, but then I had to push it back in again. Awkward. And sweet. But mostly awkward. “Thanks.” I cleared my throat.

  “You smell nice.”

  Phew! Or was he just being polite?

  “I do? Thanks, it’s just my sister’s perfume.” Crap. I realized it might look like I’d tried too hard by borrowing Sasha’s perfume. “She was, um, spraying it on herself, and I kind of got in the way. So it got on me too. It’s some fruity thing.”

  “I like fruit,” he replied.

  “Me too. Like, to eat, and stuff.”

  “Yeah. It’s good.”

  Oh, man. We should have had our date via text message; we were so much more articulate and eloquent in the written form.

  Thankfully, the waiter came and took our order (I refrained from asking specifically for the world’s second-best hot chocolate). Then it was back to the awkwardness. It seemed we were at a loss for words without other people around us, and without our computers and science project in front of us. Now what would we talk about?

  “How’s Lara?” I asked.

  Great. I’m sure every guy wanted to talk about his sister on a first date.

  “She’s um, good, I guess. Out running as usual this afternoon.”

  Why anyone would run on purpose—for fun—I had no idea. I wondered if she felt running was a way to run from her ill-fated life, or whether it gave her a sense of power and control over something. Or maybe I was reading too much into it and she simply liked the exercise rush, or wanted a fit body.

  “She likes you, you know,” Damon added. “And you have things in common.”

  I fiddled with my aquamarine pendant. “I like her too. She’s not afraid to be herself. That’s pretty cool.”

  Damon nodded. “Even though she might seem strict and unfriendly at times, I can tell she likes having you around.” He leaned his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. “So do I.”

  I wished our hot chocolates would hurry up so I could hide behind the mug and blame my flushed cheeks on the warm beverage. But all I could do was scratch my cheek and pretend I had a rare case of some itching disease. “Thanks.” I flashed a ridiculously embarrassed smile. At least, that’s what I was sure it looked like. “How is she coping with the…” How was I supposed to say it? The fatal disease? The fact that she’ll never grow old? The knowing that she’ll lose all control of her muscles?

  “Diagnosis? She’s been pretty good about it. At first she got angry. Then she started planning her life out to make sure she could fit everything she wanted to do into the shorter lifespan. She even got pretty excited about it, thinking up all the things she would do. But now whenever I ask her what’s next on the plan, she doesn’t want to talk about it. Like she’s lost interest. She just likes to keep busy now. And mentally stimulated. And run.” Damon’s eyes went distant for a moment, like his soul had gone on a temporary vacation somewhere nicer and left his body behind.

  “Maybe she just wants to live in the moment,” I suggested.

  “Sort of. She still plans, but she plans her moments. If things don’t go her way or plans change, she can get pretty upset and have a meltdown.”

  I had thought of Damon as the lucky one, but he had a cross to bear also. Watching his mother suffer, knowing what the outcome would be. Watching his father suffer by caring for her, knowing what the outcome would be. And watching his sister grow up, knowing that barring accidents or unexpected illness, he would outlive her by double the years. He might not be sick, but his scars were already forming, weaving and tangling in a tight knot of pain in anticipation of what would unfold. “She’s lucky she’s got you.”

  He shrugged. “I look out for her. But sometimes I annoy her, like any good brother should do.” A small smile lifted a corner of his lips.

  “Try having four sisters,” I said. And then I regretted it because one day he would no longer have a sister at all.

  Our drinks arrived and I gratefully scooped up the froth. I could even hear the tiny bubbles popping against my spoon.

  “So are you happy to go ahead with the EVP?” he asked, and I subtly glanced around to make sure no one could hear. But just because I could hear the tiniest things didn’t mean everyone else could. I had to remind myself of that.

  “Yes. The research was interesting to read.” I sipped at my hot chocolate casually, like we were discussing something as normal as which movies were screening at the cinema.

  “We have all the equipment needed, so if you like, we can give it a go on Monday after our study session?” He sipped at his hot chocolate and a smear of froth remained on his top lip.

  “You’ve got some, ah,” I gestured to my own top lip.

  “Oh, thanks.” His tongue slid from between his lips and licked off the froth.

  My insides went all wobbly like an inflatable bouncy castle with hyperactive children jumping all over it. I didn’t understand why. It was just a tongue. Everybody had one. They had a biological role to play just like other body parts, nothing to get excited about. I mean, they even had a whole colony of germs and stuff living on them. Ew.

  But still, the bouncy castle bounced. And wobbled. And somehow my hand made its way to my hair and fiddled with the end of my ponytail.

  “So, Monday?”

  “Monday?” My mind had completely gone blank.

  “For the EVP.”

  “Oh, yes. Right. Sounds good.” I wanted to make a joke about how that was a pun but didn’t. Sounds good.

  Yes, you’re hilarious, Serena.

  “Dad will be at medical appointm
ents with Mom all afternoon, so we should have the place to ourselves till about five thirty. We’ll have to cut our study session short to make sure we have enough time and don’t get interrupted.”

  “And Lara’s okay with that?”

  “She came up with the idea.”

  A ripple of excitement rolled through me. We were about to become like paranormal investigators or something. This would be so much more interesting than the usual social activities taken part in by our age group. “Then I guess on Monday we’ll find out if this stuff really works.”

  Damon nodded. “I hope so.” His eyes went distant again. “Otherwise I don’t know what we could do about the noises.”

  I do.

  I shifted on my chair and bit my lip. I changed the conversation to more trivial topics and we chatted not too awkwardly in between sips.

  “So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, leaning back in his chair when we’d finished.

  “On what?”

  He gestured to my empty mug. “Second best?”

  I looked at my mug, then back at him. “No.” I smiled. “The best.” And I wondered if he knew that I was giving him the verdict for something else entirely.

  Chapter 13

  “Now remember, no letting slip about our little secret, okay?” Sasha repeated. The clasp on her rose quartz bracelet jingled when she reached into the bowl of popcorn.

  “It’s not exactly little,” said Talia. “But yes, I agree. We’ll just watch the movie, eat, and have a normal Saturday night.” She eyed me until I agreed with a nod.

  Our Saturday nights hadn’t been normal for a long time. Even before our abilities appeared, Saturday nights were like every other night when Savvy was in the hospital. An endless cycle of worrying, hoping, and waiting for news. Now they were an endless cycle of worrying about our visions, hoping we could stop anything bad happening, and waiting for the senses to compel us to connect. Oh, and the odd pizza and movie while chillaxing, occasionally with others our age who reminded us just how different we were. Not a day went by without the secret of The Delta Girls hanging about like an aftertaste, a persistent whisper in the recesses of our minds, a shadow that followed us everywhere we went. Present to only us and a select few, yet hovering in readiness like a helium balloon stuck on the ceiling, waiting to be discovered and tugged down, noticed, revealed.

  Knock, knock!

  I glanced toward the front door, then at my watch. He was early. Only by a few minutes, but still early. I smoothed my ponytail over my shoulder and went to the door. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Damon replied.

  “Lara not coming?”

  He shook his head. “She wanted to have a quiet night with Mom.” He glanced into the house, then leaned forward and whispered, “I think she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment, with all that’s going on. She can only take so much socializing, and with the added stress of the, ah…” He circled his hand.

  “The visitors,” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s fine. I hope you’re hungry. We have popcorn, and Riley should be here soon with our dinner.”

  “Bring it on.” He smiled and entered.

  “Hi, Damon,” said Savannah and Sasha at the same time. Luckily Savvy didn’t say “Hi, boooy!”

  “This is Damon,” I introduced him to Talia and Tamara. Tamara covered her mouth (full of popcorn) with one hand and gave a friendly wave with the other. Talia stood and shook his hand. What was with the formalities? When she released his hand she flinched slightly, like she’d received an electric shock. Then she sat and fiddled with her green jade ring.

  “Would you like a drink?” I asked, clasping my hands together in some weird enthusiastic gesture that I had no idea why I was doing. My body did strange things around boys (correction: Damon), like I was a puppet, and my brain—or hormones (or whatever)—was the puppeteer.

  “Yes, please.” He followed me toward the kitchen.

  Was it weird that his good manners appealed to me as much as his cute text messages and bashful smile? I poured him a soda and we joined the others. Savannah got up off the couch and moved to the armchair, and Sasha moved to the other couch where Talia and Tamara sat, leaving room for me and Damon on the two-seater couch. I picked up my drink from the coffee table and took a sip.

  “Can I smell pizza?” asked Sasha. “Is Riley here?” She got up and peered out the window. “Oh. Nope.”

  “Damn. I’m starving.” Tamara popped more popcorn in her mouth.

  “He’ll be here soon,” I said, my gaze on my watch. I hoped Damon didn’t think it was weird that Sasha thought she could smell pizza. Well, I was sure she could smell it, just a few light years before we could. Which meant Riley was most definitely on his way.

  “Pizza has the best smell,” said Damon. “And popcorn.” He took a few pieces from the bowl and munched on them.

  “I agree.” I stood and put the movie disc into the DVD player, and when the menu appeared, so did Riley.

  Savannah rushed to let him in. “Hey, babe!”

  “Are you excited to see me or the pizza?” Riley winked.

  “The pizza, now gimme.” She took the bag and withdrew three boxes of pizza, placing them on the table. Then she turned back to her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around him. “Joking, of course.” She kissed him. “Sort of.”

  “Do you know how hard it was to walk here and not eat any? The enticing scent wafting into my nose, the onions and garlic and cheese and pepperoni and…” He picked up a slice and took a huge bite. “Mmm.”

  Within seconds we were all stuffing our faces. Tamara handed out napkins. With all the stretchy cheese and toppings, we should have laid out a drop cloth. Savannah sat on Riley’s lap and pressed play on the DVD. As the movie rolled, we ate, the pizza soon disappearing into the bottomless pits of our stomachs.

  My brain started to hypothesize how EVP could be real. It all came down to electronic equipment acting like a portal to the other realm, and in the same way that electrical equipment revolved around energy and vibrational frequencies, so did people, living and dead. Somehow, the energy of these spirits could interact and tune into the frequency of the electrical device and modify it, resulting in a change such as light flashes, sounds, or the device turning on and off.

  My chest tightened when the main character received a phone call showing the caller ID as coming from his dead wife’s phone. How spooky would that be? A minute later, my phone (which I’d turned to silent) vibrated against my thigh and I gasped.

  “You all right?” asked Talia.

  “Yep.” I looked at my screen.

  Boo!

  I turned to look at Damon and flashed a pretend scowl. Then I replied to his text: Boo yourself!

  He replied: Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. ;)

  Oh, the cheeky thing. Here we were, watching a scary movie, about something that we were sort of experiencing in real life, and he was messing with me. I replied again: Stop playing games, you! Or I’ll…something.

  Damon: You’ll what?

  I tapped my finger against the side of my phone as I thought.

  Something to punish you for scaring me!

  Damon: Now I’m scared. But how do you plan to do that?

  Me: Poke you with a pencil? Tip soda over your head? Tickle you?

  Did I really just text that? Tickling would involve a certain degree of bodily contact and I was in no way ready for—“Ah!” I gasp-laughed as something tickled my side. Someone, more like it.

  “You sure you’re okay, Serena?” asked Talia.

  “Yes. Yes I am. The movie’s just freaking me out a little.” I glanced at Damon, whose arms were crossed, but his left hand was peeking beneath his right elbow, right in line with my ribs. I flashed that pretend scowl again, but it felt like more of a smile.

  A moment later I got another text: I beat you to it. I win. :)

  My reply: I’ll get you another time, when you’re not expecting it. Watch your
back.

  He made a show of turning to look at his back, and we shared a smile. What a sight: sitting side by side, texting each other. We were a perfect example of our generation. If we ever got married (why was I thinking that?), we would probably exchange vows via text message.

  And they texted happily ever after…

  Somehow I managed to keep track of the White Noise plot while a movie of my bizarre fantasies played simultaneously in my mind. I was like an internet browser with two tabs open. I could go between the two at will. Real life. Imaginary life. Switch, switch, switch!

  “And that’s why I prefer to watch romcoms,” said Sasha, shivering as she got up and stretched her arms above her head. We’d finished the movie.

  “I thought it was awesome,” said Savannah, entwined with Riley as though they were one body.

  Well, any movie would be awesome when you could snuggle up to the boy of your dreams.

  “Very interesting,” said Damon.

  “Yeah.” I reached for the remote on the coffee table and selected special features. “Let’s see what they say about this EVP stuff.” I discreetly eyed Damon, who nodded. My sisters knew about the situation, of course, but I didn’t want him to know I’d told them. Had it not been for our sense-abilities, I might not have even told my sisters that there were ghosts in the Jamesons’ house.

  Sasha tapped away on her phone and Tamara picked up a remnant slice of pepperoni stuck to the pizza box and ate it. Talia leaned back on the couch with her hands clasped behind her head, her eyes closed. Savannah and Riley got all kissy-kissy while Damon and I watched the real-life behind-the-scenes of people taking part in recording electronic voice phenomena. It was much like what we’d read online, but it felt more real, watching these people doing it so passionately and convincingly.

  Hearing the recorded voices was freaky. They couldn’t fake that, could they? I heard a buzzing. A muffled buzzing. Was that on the TV or was it…I tilted my head slightly, my ears on high alert. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Uh-oh. I pressed pause to make sure, and the buzz sounded again. Wonderful.