Whispering fast, I said, "I'm so sorry. I'm actually a little deaf right now from...from running music for Charmers practice last period."
She searched my face, the color slowly returning to her cheeks. Taking a long, slow breath, she pointed at the empty desk and said, "Go. Sit. Down. Now."
I didn't look at the other students as I sat down in the dreaded seat, my skin prickling all over with awareness of how close Tristan was. I could tell from everyone's thoughts exactly how crazy I looked. My fingernails bit into my palms as I sat as close to the edge of my seat away from Tristan as I could.
Inside my head, everyone's voices grew louder and louder.
Oh man, those two can't even look at each other!
Whoa. The veins in his neck are bulging. He looks mad enough to kill Savannah! What did she do to him last year?
Perfect shot! These pics are gonna get the gossips going on Facebook for sure.
I turned and caught some girl at the back of the room playing with her phone under her desk.
Drugs. She's definitely dealing drugs to have all that money all of a sudden. Unless maybe that grandma of hers left a bundle of insurance money and she blew it all on clothing. Typical white trash, she should've used it for college instead.
I was starting to miss the Brat Twins' daily insults. At least they said it all to my face.
Isn't she Anne's best friend? Yeah, I remember her sitting at their table every day. I wonder if she's seen Anne yet.
Relieved to have heard one halfway nice thing about me, I latched on to that person's train of thought, wondering who it came from. Then I snuck a peek at the desk to my left between me and the door. Ah, of course. Ron Abernathy, Anne's one and only ex.
Listening in on Ron's thoughts felt like an invasion of his privacy. But until I could figure out how to turn the ESP off, I was already invading everyone's privacy as it was. And at least listening to Ron was better than focusing on the seething pain Tristan was projecting at my other side. Maybe if I concentrated on hearing only one person at a time, I could manage not to go crazy today.
Interestingly enough, it seemed the strength of each person's "signal" was based on how strongly they felt about whatever they were thinking. Ron was pretty steady in his emotions when he thought about Anne, but since he wasn't obsessively thinking about her nonstop, I couldn't pick up every thought. Only the ones about Anne were loud enough for me to hear.
By the end of class, I was really starting to wonder what secrets Anne was keeping. It was obvious that Ron was still very much in love with her, and that Anne had been the one who had broken them up. Maybe it had something to do with Ron's weird obsession about black cats? He thought about them almost as much as he thought about her.
In an effort to avoid as much of the foot traffic as possible, I was the first one out of my seat when the lunch bell rang. I gave in to the urge to walk at least human-fast down the main hall, slowing only after I was out the doors and on the cement, metal awning-covered catwalk that spanned the valley between the two hills the main building and math building rested on. I walked even slower down the ramp that led from the side of the catwalk to the valley floor where the cafeteria building was located. It was nice and quiet out here away from everyone's thoughts, and I was tempted to just stay. But my friends were waiting for me.
As soon as I opened the cafeteria doors, the tidal wave of thoughts hit me so hard that I actually stumbled back a couple of steps.
Whoa. If this ESP crap continued at this level, the gossips wouldn't have to lie about my going nuts in English class, because I really would go stark raving mad.
I staggered to my friends' usual table, grateful for a change that we sat right beside the center aisle that cut across the cylinder-shaped brick building. The girls must have gotten out a little early from second period; their stuff was already there and they were in line getting food.
I knew I should buy my usual chili cheese fries and a soda, or at least a salad to pretend to eat. But the thought of having to even fake eating was too much at this point. I buried my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and prayed everyone's thoughts would just shut up.
Last year when I'd started to sense the emotions around me, I'd learned that the ability grew worse when I was upset. Hearing everyone's actual thoughts was so much worse than sensing their emotions. But maybe the ESP worked the same way. I tried to calm down, focusing on my breathing as if I were doing tai chi. Slow breath in. Hold it. Slow breath out. I pictured myself back home doing tai chi in my room, how the controlled movements made me feel like water flowing in slow motion.
There. The voices were fading away now. I could handle this. I just needed to stay calm.
"There's our Vogue girl," Anne greeted me as my friends returned to our table.
They took their seats, each one setting down a stinking tray or carton or plastic bowl full of food. My eyes told me their food was perfectly fine and should smell good. But my nose and stomach screamed an entirely different story. It was like someone had just plunked me down in the middle of a landfill during the dead heat of summer. The stench of rotting things seemed to fill my nostrils, tempting me to gag.
I made myself smile for their benefit while I tried not to breathe through my nose.
Michelle squealed and reached across the table to grab my new bracelet. "Oh my God, did your dad get this for you?" She looked up, her eyes wide and bright. Then she spotted my purse on the table beside me. "No friggin' way. A Coach bag, too? Let me see!"
Dutifully I passed the purse over to her.
"And the heels?" Anne asked, her eyebrows arched.
Finally I could give a sincere smile. "After you and I got off the phone, I discovered Dad surprised me with some other shoe choices." I held up a foot so she could see my new ballet flats.
Anne made a face. "I might have had to stick with the heels. Those would look like fairy shoes on me."
Michelle ducked under the table to see, raised her head back up and squeaked, "Jimmy Choo doesn't make fairy shoes. Besides, those are black."
"So they're for goth fairies." Grinning, Anne cracked open her soda.
"Oh stop," I said with a laugh. "You're just jealous that my feet have been super comfy all morning, while you're stuck wearing those sweaty twenty-pound sneakers."
A clatter of plastic. I looked up in time to see Carrie take off.
"What's the matter with her?" I asked.
Michelle's face scrunched up. "She's probably upset about the poor children in Africa. At least I think it's Africa this time. She's probably wishing they all had cute shoes like that."
Anne leaned around the curved table and whispered, "I think it's more that Carrie's folks might be having trouble coming up with enough money for medical school."
Carrie had wanted to be a doctor for as long as I'd known her. But I'd never stopped and thought about how expensive it would be for her, or whether her parents could afford it. I'd always assumed, since they lived in a brick house by the lake, that they had plenty of money.
"What about scholarships and grants?" I said, accepting my purse back from Michelle and tucking it under the table in my lap.
Inside my head, everyone else's thoughts grew a little louder.
"She's going to try, but her grades this year and last year are going to factor in on what she gets," Anne said around a mouthful of food. She took a noisy slurp of soda. "And apparently they haven't been all straight A pluses like she wanted."
And here I'd been flaunting my dad's money like a complete idiot. It was just so weird to suddenly have money after never having enough all my life. But that was still no excuse.
"Wow. I didn't know. I'm sorry."
The voices ratcheted up a bit more in my head.
"If you'd stuck around a little longer at my party, you would have heard all about it," Anne muttered. She said it so quietly that she probably never intended for me to hear her. But I did, and it stung. She knew why I'd had to leave early.
"Are you feeling better now?" Michelle asked. "I know Anne said you were feeling sick and all, but you still could have said goodbye, you know."
The voices ramped up still louder. They were nearly at full blast now. I had to fight the urge to yell.
"I'm sorry I had to leave so quick. I...I've been having some...health problems. Headaches and stuff. Trouble hearing sometimes. Digestion issues. That kind of thing."
Michelle's eyebrows drew together. "Have you seen a doctor?"
"It's nothing serious, don't worry about it," I said, trying to focus on breathing slowly. I could do this. I just needed to calm down again, maybe think about something else for a while. "By the way, guess who I was assigned to sit beside in English last period? Ron Abernathy."
Anne thumped back in her chair as if I'd slapped her. She blinked once, twice, then shrugged. "So?"
I mimicked her shrug. "So he seems kind of...sad. Like maybe he hasn't gotten over you yet."
"Did he say something about me?" Anne stared at me.
"Not in so many words." I wished I could read her mind right now, but Michelle's eager need for answers was drowning out Anne's quieter thoughts.
Anne stared into the distance, too many emotions flickering across her face for me to read them.
"Well, if he's upset about the breakup, he can just get over it." Grabbing a plastic fork from the handful of extras Michelle had brought to the table, Anne stabbed her nachos so hard I thought the fork would break. "Because I am so not the right girl for him." She took a huge bite of food and said, "I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?"
While she chewed, she gave her poor nachos a few more stabs to break up the chips. If she kept at it, she'd poke a hole through the bottom of the paper carton.
And since when had Anne ever used a fork to eat nachos anyways?
I leaned closer to her and murmured, "Anne, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Longing shot out of her like a bolt, then faded. "No. It's over and done. Did you want to talk about you and Tris-"
"No, I don't."
A hint of smugness twisted her mouth and gave her chestnut ponytail back its usual swing. "Okay then."
Look at that freak over there. What will it take for her to get a clue that she doesn't belong here?
I wonder what I should wear for our first date on Friday?
I can't believe she thinks I don't know what she said about me behind my back! The next time I see Sally Parker, I swear....
The roar of voices in my head combined with my own frustration, driving me to say, "But, Anne, Ron seems so nice! And he's miserable without you, and you're obviously miserable without him-"
She threw down her fork and turned to glare at me. "If he's so great, why don't you date him?" He's not what he seems, she thought loud enough for me to finally pick up.
"Because I'm in love with-" I stopped myself just in time. "You know why."
Michelle's already large eyes opened wider as she looked at me, then Anne, then me again.
Anne took the longest drink I'd ever seen from her soda, as if she intended to down the entire can in one long slurp.
I pressed a shaky hand to my forehead. This wasn't working. At all. The voices weren't getting any quieter. If anything, they were at the screaming level now. As a result, I couldn't think straight.
Stupid ESP. At least for today, it was getting the upper hand. I needed to go somewhere quiet for a few minutes, take a quick break before third period, or my head was going to explode. "Um, listen, I think I'm getting a migraine right now."
"Do you want an aspirin?" Anne reached for her backpack.
"No, thanks," I mumbled. "I can't take it. I just need to go somewhere quiet-"
"The library's open during lunch if you can sneak by the librarian without a pass," Michelle suggested. "Or you could ask the nurse to let you lie down for a while."
"Thanks, I'll do that." I was already on my feet, fumbling for my duffel bag and purse. Should I duck into a bathroom and drink the emergency stash of blood? Somehow I didn't think that would help with the ESP. In fact, it might even make it worse by feeding the vamp side. And then of course I'd have to deal with the blood memories immediately afterwards....
Anne grabbed my wrist, the apology loud enough in her mind that I could finally hear her. She didn't want us to be fighting.
I forgot to wait for her to actually say it. "Don't worry. Everything's fine. We're fine. Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have asked again about him. It's just this...headache making me stupid. I'll call you tonight when my head's not trying to split itself in two, okay?"
I managed a wave goodbye then stumbled out of the cafeteria and up to the catwalk, its metal awning blocking out the bright sunlight.
The sudden and blessed quiet nearly made me sag with relief. But I couldn't stay here for the rest of the lunch period or some teacher would probably show up and tell me to go to class. No one was allowed to hang around beyond the cafeteria on our lunch breaks. I checked my watch and groaned. There were still twenty minutes left before third period. I could go to the nurse's station, but then I might have to answer a bunch of questions. And I definitely didn't want to have to hide out in the restroom that long.
The library was the best option. So I ducked into the main hall, walking slowly past the glass front wall of the office, then allowing myself to rush as fast as I wanted until I reached the double blue doors of the library.
I opened one door just enough to peek at the checkout desk. No librarian in sight. She was probably in her office eating lunch, judging by the putrid smell in the air. Good. If she saw me here without a library pass, she would kick me back out.
I slipped in then moved vampire fast along the carpeted aisles past the tall wooden bookcases, looking for a table out of view in case anyone else came in and tattled on me to the librarian. Spotting the edge of a table in the far back right corner, I hurried over to it.
And nearly shrieked out loud when I discovered someone already seated there.
