High School Heroes Chapters 11-14
Here is the next exciting installment of High School Heroes! Christine has discovered a little something about her powers so far, but she’s in for some real shocks in this portion of the story. What will they be? You’ll have to keep reading to find out!
Enjoy!
Chapter 11
Four
I slept most of Sunday, getting up only for my four-hour shift at May’s. Since it was the last weekend before Thanksgiving, it was a slow day. The good news was that every weekend after that until Christmas I would be working eight to ten hour shifts. If I saved even half of the money, I would be set for my car come March.
Monday morning came too soon, and once again I was wakened by the constant yammering of my mother. Only two school days this week because of the holiday. Yay!
Bleary eyed, I chose a black tee with the picture of the dagger stabbing the skull, a skirt and fishnet stockings. I put my hair up in two short pigtails and dragged my feet to the bathroom. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought about how I dressed like some of the girls I’d seen over the weekend.
Even so, I didn’t see myself fighting crime.
As I walked down stairs I knew my mother wouldn’t be driving me to school. She was in the downstairs bathroom spewing the contents of her stomach. She would be in no condition to drive, so I didn’t bother asking. I groaned, thinking about the walk on that cruel, cold morning and debated changing into something warmer. But, I realized that was out of the question, I should have been out the door a minute ago.
I grabbed the toast my mother had left on the counter, grabbed my coat and ran out the door with speed that would have made Ethan jealous. Being late November, the morning air was chilly. My breath hung in the air as I walked down the driveway.
In the darkness, broken only by the headlights of passing cars—mainly because my town was too cheap to install streetlights—I thought how Sam and Tiffany would press me for information about the weekend. I thought how excited Ethan looked at the convention. I couldn’t help thinking how cute he was.
No. I had to accept that Ethan was nothing more than a friend. He didn’t want to be anything more than that.
“Hey, Christine!”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Ethan stood next to me.
“You really have to stop doing that.”
“For someone who’s supposed to invoke fear in others, you sure scare easily,” he laughed. He slowed his pace to match mine, which I’m sure was excruciating for him.
I shivered. “It’s cold.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn a skirt.”
I didn’t feel like explaining, so I nodded.
I cursed my rotten luck and the fact that my parents couldn’t keep their hands off each other. My new sibling was already torturing me, and he or she wasn’t even born yet.
“What’s bothering you?” Ethan asked.
I relaxed my tight face and tried my best at smiling at him.
“You have a nice smile.” I swore Ethan blushed as he uttered those words. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all. “You should do it more often.”
“That’s funny.” I actually laughed. “Sam says I look creepy when I smile.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
I wondered if he was hitting on me. I mean, what other boy would tell a girl she has a nice smile unless he was attracted to her?
I changed the subject. “You know, this would be a whole lot faster if you just ran me the rest of the way to school.” I put on the best smile I could muster. Since I already knew he liked it, I would use it as a weapon.
He argued with himself, weighing the reasons why he should and shouldn’t just pick me up and whisk me off with him. I already knew what his answer was going to be before he said it.
“I can’t do that,” he sighed.
“Why not?”
“I can’t risk hurting you.”
“You did it on Saturday. I’m still standing here, aren’t I?”
“I told you, I wasn’t going that fast.”
“Fast enough.”
“That trip was also only a couple hundred yards.” He was afraid of the look I was giving him. “You didn’t have enough time to get hurt.” He paused. Only then could I see the anguish in his face. “I had no other choice. You were in pain, and on the verge of killing everyone in the room.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, sort of a mental kick. You started showing everyone their fears, myself included. But the power was so intense… Well, you almost scared some people to death.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d lost control and almost killed someone. More than just someone, a whole room full of people.
“Look. I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t get you out of there. But as soon as you were, you were fine.”
I hung my head and continued walking.
“It’s not your fault.” Ethan tried his best to soothe me. The attempt was less than successful.
I vowed at that moment I would never lose control again. I would keep my powers in check so I wouldn’t put anyone else in danger.
Someone on a skateboard rolled up behind us. A boy in blue jeans was coming at us. Fast.
I barely had time to jump out of the way as he zoomed past. Ethan easily moved in the other direction, but I stepped into a small divot in the grass and fell to the hard ground, hurting my butt.
That’s right, get out of my way, the boy thought as he rode off. Next time I’ll fry you.
He was serious. I could see him shooting lightning from his hands and knew it wasn’t some imaginary detail.
“Stop him, Ethan!”
He looked at me quizzically for half a second then ran off in a gust of wind that chilled my battered body further. In less than a second, Ethan was stopping the boy in his tracks.
“Get out of my way!” the boy shouted. I swear I’ll kill you.
I dusted stray pieces of grass from my stockings and then ran to the boys. As I approached, I recognized him. “Peter?”
A stocking cap covered most of his long hair. That was why I hadn’t recognized him.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” He glared at Ethan.
“You knocked the lady down.” Ethan sounded like a cowboy in one of those old western movies. “I think you owe her an apology.”
“No. I don’t need an apology.” Ethan thought that was the reason I wanted Peter stopped, but I was after something else. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I ignored him and eyed Peter. “What were you just thinking?”
“None of your business, Chris!” But the image of lightning shooting from his hands replayed again. He was more hostile than usual. As a matter of fact, this was the first time I could remember him showing anger toward me.
I probed his mind a little deeper and found the source of his hostility. He’d apparently run into Tommy on the way to school. Only then did I notice the bruise he had on his cheek. The big bully had hit him—hard. No wonder he’s upset.
I didn’t want to come right out and say I knew what he’d been thinking. I didn’t want to totally freak him out. “Can you do something special?” I asked instead. “Maybe with your hands?”
After a minute, he said, “Yeah,” and turned away, like he was trying to flee.
As if that’s the end of it, I thought.
Ethan looked on in amazement, apparently surprised I pegged the kid as having some sort of power. His face dropped however, when Peter made a hand gesture that was less than polite.
Ethan’s hand shot out so quickly I didn’t even see it. The next thing I knew his hand held onto the extended finger on Peter’s hand, bending it backward.
Less than a second after that, Ethan’s whole body spasmed and collapsed to the ground.
I told you I’d fry you.
“Why’d you do that?” I glared at Peter.
“Unless you want some too, leave me alone. He’ll be fine in a few seconds.”
Ethan looked like he’d been tazered, but was already testing the functionality of his limbs. Looked like he’d be okay.
“Peter, we’re special too.”
“Yeah, special is right. A couple of freaks is more like it.”
If I had heat vision I would burn a hole in his skull and watch his brains bake inside his own head. “Don’t say that,” I said with such ferocity it caused Peter to step back.
“Freak.”
“What are you afraid of?” I meant it to be just a thought, but I guess I actually spoke the words.
In the blackness of his mind, I saw him inside a box and beating on the top, desperately struggling to get out. The box took shape… as a coffin. He’s afraid of being buried alive.
I latched onto that image and I pushed it into his mind.
Peter fell to the ground and began thrashing. He punched the air as if he were trying to knock the lid off the coffin. “Help! Help! I’m still alive! Get me out!”
I didn’t let up. I kept pushing, letting him really feel it.
“Oh my God. HELP ME!” His scream was ear-piercing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone heard a mile away.
That ought to teach him a lesson. But I still didn’t let up. No one would call me a freak and get away with it. I felt the blackness begin to fill the edges of my vision again. It was like a shadow lifted from my body and surrounded me and Peter.
Something grabbed my arm and twisted me around. My concentration broke, and for a moment I heard Peter’s gasping breath as the illusion I created fell away.
Ethan gazed into my eyes. “What are you doing? Trying to kill him?”
“Teaching him a lesson.” With my anger fading, I realized how stupid I sounded. My eyes teared up. Ethan still shot me a stern expression, but he didn’t say anything, not out loud anyway. I blocked his thoughts so I couldn’t hear what he was thinking. He pulled me toward him and embraced me in a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist. I wasn’t sure why he was hugging me. I didn’t care. I just savored the moment, even though I still felt like crap.
I don’t know how long we stood there. It felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two. We broke up as Peter raced off on his skateboard, fear radiating off him.
“You think he’ll tell anyone?”
We resumed walking, knowing we would both be late.
“No,” said Ethan, “I don’t think so.”
He was looking straight ahead, trying his hardest not to look at me. “You need to learn not to take things so personally,” he muttered.
He was right. I couldn’t fly off the handle every time someone called me a name. I felt horrible, especially since I’d broken a promise I made not ten minutes earlier. All I really wanted just then was to go home and go back to bed. “Ethan, do I scare you?”
He paused and closed his eyes. Then he looked back down at me and I knew the answer. “No.”
Chapter 12
Monsters and Demons
I couldn’t pay attention at all during math that morning. I couldn’t get the image of Peter’s thrashing form out of my head. Ethan was right, looking back at it, I had nearly scared the boy to death. If Ethan hadn’t stopped me…
I barely noticed when Savanah pushed me out of the way to be first out the door - again.
How could Ethan expect me to be a hero, when I could do something like that? How could he trust me when I barely even trusted myself?
I decided to apologize to Peter in science class. I played several different versions of what I would say in my head as I hurried through the halls. Everything sounded stupid. I would have to just wing it.
But he never showed up for class.
Did I really hurt him?
No. You couldn’t have.
But what if I did?
I couldn’t pay attention to the science lab. Lance and Kyle sat on either side of me, telling jokes, trying to get me out of my funk. I heard their thoughts that they were following Tiffany’s orders. Unfortunately, nothing could cheer me up. I’d come to the realization that I was a monster.
Sam tried to make me laugh, too. He told the lamest joke I’d ever heard, about a rabbi and a gremlin. I’m not even sure the joke made sense.
“What’s bothering you?” he whispered as Ms. Schroeder started class.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Is it Ethan?”
I rolled my eyes. He wouldn’t let it drop with my new friend. Why can’t you just accept him?
“No,” I answered. “It’s me.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Sam. Christine,” Ms Schroeder interrupted. “Please quiet down.”
How could I tell Sam what happened? What would he think of me?
“During lunch,” he said. It was a command, not a request.
Anger boiled up, but I pushed it back before I did anything else stupid.
I got up when the bell rang—having learned nothing from our reading that day—and rushed out. I wasn’t going to lunch. I couldn’t take being grilled by my friends for forty minutes. I also wasn’t sure I could block all those voices for any length of time.
Sam called me, but I moved as fast I could through the halls and headed for the library. Hardly anyone went in there during lunch, so it would be peaceful.
Mr. Bradbury, our librarian, a man I’m pretty sure was older than dirt, greeted me.
“Can I use one of the computers?” I asked.
“Sure. If you need anything, just ask.”
The room was completely empty, except for one other girl, but she was so immersed in a book, I doubt she noticed my presence. I logged onto a computer and checked my email. There was nothing good, despite the fact that I hadn’t checked since Friday. I deleted all of the crap (I still couldn’t understand why anyone would believe I wanted to take pole dancing lessons) and logged out. Surfing the internet soon grew boring, and I contemplated going to the cafeteria.
I decided against it when I realized I would have yet another thing to explain to my friends. I pulled up Google one more time and stared at the rectangular search box. My fingers acted without orders from my brain. I didn’t even realize what I was typing until I stopped. In the search engine box was a single word: superheroes.
I knew why I’d typed it. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to fall into the world of comic book geek yet. I’d bought a comic, I’d gone to a convention, and with just a single click of the mouse, my journey to the Dark Side would be complete.
Ugh. Now I’m quoting Star Wars!
It was too late. I was already a comic book geek.
I clicked “search” and watched the first twenty web pages come up on the screen.
I expected to get links to a bunch of comic publisher web sites, but, there were articles and news stories about superheroes, news on the next comic convention, where to buy the perfect costume, movie page links. There was one that intrigued me, though. The title of the page simply read, “World Superhero Registry”.
I was about to click on the link when a hand touched my arm. Ethan’s concerned face was looking down at me. I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. “How did you find me?”
He smiled, but there wasn’t any happiness in his face. “When you can run at the speed of sound, it isn’t hard to cover the whole school building in a couple of seconds.”
“Oh.”
He sat next to me. “Why are you hiding up here?”
“I’m not hiding,” I said a little too quickly to be convincing.
He just looked at me with an “oh really” look on his face.
“Fine. I’m hiding. Happy now?”
No, not really. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I couldn’t face everyone. Including you.”
“Why not, Christine?” His voice was calm, yet concern oozed off him. “We’re your friends.”
“Yeah, but, what I did…” I stopped myself. The last thing I needed was to cry in front of him.
“You made a mistake.” He pulled me into a protective hug. “You need to relax. It could happen to anyone.”
I pushed away from him and shot him a dubious gaze.
“Okay, not anyone,” he amended.
I looked away as the tears welled up again. “He wasn’t in class today. I couldn’t say I was sorry.”
He hugged me again. That’s when the tears flowed. “It’s all right.”
It felt so good to be held by him. Ethan sucked up all my anxiety and feelings of dread. I could face my friends now, if he went with me.
Then, it was like something exploded in my head. I jerked back reflexively and pushed against him so hard we both almost fell over.
“What? What did I do?” Ethan asked, even more confused than me.
I’d been hit by a wave of intense fear. At first I thought I caused it, like I did unintentionally at the convention. When it hit me again I realized I didn’t do it at all. The wave came from a very specific place. I needed to find it.
I focused on the fear’s location.
“Christine?” Ethan asked, fearful.
I held up a hand to silence him so I could concentrate. An image formed in my head. It wasn’t like the images I’d seen before of what other people were thinking. This image was clearer somehow—sharper. I wasn’t looking at a thought. I was seeing through someone’s eyes.
The sensation was odd, almost like I was a puppet and someone was pulling my strings. I could see and feel everything that was going on, but I had no control. None.
I was in the boy’s bathroom looking at the row of urinals lining the wall. Two other people in the room, and, seeing them, I was able to surmise the identity of the third. Walter and Sean raced back and forth like chickens with their heads cut off. Tommy, whose eyes I was more than ninety percent sure I looked through, watched them in his own form of panic and confusion.
It would have been comical if not for the garbage can spewing black smoke that steadily filled the small room. Walter and Sean ran between the can and the sink with handfuls of water, trying in desperation to put it out.
“Let’s get out of here!” Tommy—I—shouted. Before the others could react, he bolted out the door.
He darted into the hall, across from the cafeteria. Black wisps of smoke snaked across the ceiling. He turned right and ran down the hallway as fast as his fat legs would carry him. He never looked over his shoulder and his breathing was so heavy it made it impossible to hear anything, so I didn’t know if Walter and Sean were behind him.
Just as suddenly as I entered Tommy’s head, I was back in mine. The image of him running was replaced by Ethan’s worried face, in the library, not six inches away.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I shook off the haze on my brain. “I just… saw something.”
“Well, I assumed that.”
I wasn’t used to the sensations presented by looking through someone else’s eyes, so I was still a little disoriented. “Tommy…” I closed my eyes as my stomach heaved several times, but I pushed back the urge to spew.
“What about him?” Ethan’s warm hand kept me propped up.
I shook my head again. “…started a fire in the bathroom by the cafeteria. Now, he’s running away before he gets in trouble. There’s an awful lot of smoke and it’s only a matter of time before…”
As if on cue, the fire alarm clanged.
“Come on,” Ethan set me on my feet. My legs were wobbly, but I managed to move on my own. I let Ethan support me anyway.
We left the library. I expected him to turn left and head outside to safety. I should have known better. He took us toward the cafeteria.
“Are you insane?” I asked.
The thick black smoke all but covered the ceiling. I felt the fire up ahead.
“There might be someone up there.” He journeyed forward. “I’m not going to sit by when I can help.”
This is how I’m going to die. Doing something completely idiotic.
I pushed away from Ethan, but followed in spite of my urge to run. I felt like a salmon swimming upriver. It was hard, I kept being shoved back by the current the escaping throng created.
The hallway leading to the cafeteria was deserted. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. The hallway smelled like a campfire, only a hundred times more potent.
“Can you hear anyone?” Ethan asked.
I opened up my mind. None. I shook my head. “We need to get out of here.”
How would it look if we were caught at the scene of the crime?
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re right.” He turned to go, but then I felt something.
I couldn’t get a clear reading of his voice, but I saw an image of what he saw. A tightening in my chest came from him—he was a in a state of panic. Tommy had holed himself up in one of the custodian’s closets, and he was shut inside. He choked on smoke that crept through the cracks of the door.
I was faced with the greatest moral dilemma of my life. Did I save the boy who caused all these problems or did I let him suffer and burn? All I had to do was keep my mouth shut and stroll out of the building with Ethan.
No, I couldn’t just walk away, no matter what an evil demon he was.
“C’mon,” I told Ethan and headed toward Tommy. Ethan followed.
I wandered the hallway, but still unsure of Tommy’s exact location. There were three janitor closets on this floor—he could have been in any of them.
I opened the closet in the science hallway. It was empty. The smoke was thicker here. What else could be burning?
As we rounded the next corner, the lights flickered and went out. Something was very, very wrong. Another wave of fear hit me like a tsunami. It came from Tommy and had nothing to do with the fire.
I sped down the hallway. Ethan would have no problem keeping up.
We rounded the third corner. The door of the janitor’s supply room was ajar. It was the one largest of their closets; it held all the cleaning supplies. Even with the door closed you could smell the ammonia and the Lysol when you walked past.
A flashing blue light came out the doorway, and in those flashes, I saw smoke pouring out of the room.
The moron had started another fire!
At the door, with Ethan right beside me, I realized I was wrong. The sight stopped me in my tracks. I stood behind a boy wearing a woolen cap and baggy jeans. He was staring Tommy down. His arms were held wide. An electric current pulsed between his hands and the metal shelves around him. Tiny arcs of blue lightning hit each shelf, ran along the metal and eventually disappeared.
Tommy cowered in the corner on the verge of tears… and nearly wetting his pants.
Several cleaning bottles exploded from the heat of the lightning. The chemicals caught fire, sending a spray of fireballs blazing across the shelves.
“Peter!” I shouted.
He spun on me with such raw anger that I fell back a step. His eyes crackled with the same pure energy that surged from his fingertips. Yesterday, I would have called this boy friendly.
Another image came into my head, of Peter attacking, sending a bolt of lightning in my direction. Luckily, I stood next to the fastest boy alive.
“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted. In that same instant he punched out both his fists sending a jagged shard of lightning in my direction.
I braced for the hit, but not in time. The next thing I knew I was standing two feet to the right of where I’d been. Ethan had hold of my right arm so tightly I thought it might break off.
“Peter, what are you doing?” he shouted.
“Teaching you a lesson.” Peter sent another surge of electricity in Ethan’s direction.
Ethan easily moved us out of the way.
“Help me!” Tommy pleaded. I was torn between my need to help, and my want to watch him fry.
“Shut up!” Peter shouted. An electric arc shot from one of his hand’s toward Tommy, hitting him in the chest.
Tommy writhed on the floor. He cried out. Ethan mentally winced as he relived the jolt he received that morning.
Ethan let go of me and rushed to Peter, but the boy was ready. He raised his other hand and Ethan ran right into the path of another bolt. This time, Peter didn’t let up. The energy surged from both his hands, one aimed at each boy.
“Stop it, Peter!” I yelled. I was truly afraid he would kill both Tommy and Ethan. From his thoughts I knew it was his very intention. “Stop!”
He looked up at me. Pure hate radiated off him. “Why should I? So he can find someone else to pick on? Do you know what he’s done to me?”
Snippets of images came into my head: Peter being shoved into a locker, getting his head dunked into a toilet, Tommy taking his skateboard and smacking him on the side of the head. I saw all the cruel things Tommy had done to Peter, and for that one second, couldn’t blame him for wanting revenge.
“That doesn’t give you the right to kill him!” I countered.
“Oh, and you’re such an angel. You tried to kill me this morning!”
“I lost control. I’m sorry!”
There would be no reasoning with him. I would have to stop him. “I’m sorry.” This time it was meant, not for what I had done, but for what I was about to do. A single tear ran down my cheek.
I closed my eyes and reached out to his mind. I searched and quickly found his fear. And pressed on it.
Nothing happened.
In a moment of confusion, I opened my eyes. Did Peter figure out a way to block me?
No. He has no idea how I do that.
I tried again and came up empty.
“What’s going on here?” came a voice from the right.
Oh crap! We’d been caught. How could I explain this?
I turned one eye, keeping the other on Peter in case he attacked me. Seeing the owner of the voice, I was pleasantly surprised. It was the second time in my life I had been happy to see the girl.
Savanah, wearing her preppy best, sauntered toward us as if she owned the place. “What are you doing?”
I couldn’t answer. Peter still had Ethan writhing on the ground as he continued to pump electricity through him.
Her eyes opened wide. She stopped and looked between me and the three boys. “Help,” I pleaded with her. Only I knew what she could do.
“I-I-I…”
“Savanah, look at me.”
She turned, but her eyes seemed to be staring at someplace far in the distance.
I debated whether or not to slap her to snap her out of it. “You need to help me,” I told her in as calm a voice as I could find.
“Christine!” said Peter. “Aren’t you going to rescue your friend?”
“Peter, you can stop this. We can talk things out.”
“No! This is what happens to bullies. The little guy takes ‘em down.”
“Please, Peter!”
He shot out an even more powerful pulse of electricity into the two boys. They both cried out. I winced.
I had to do something. I tried my fear trick—again. Nothing.
I approached him.
A hand touched my shoulder. “I’ve got this.” Savanah stepped in front of me and into the closet. I couldn’t believe, she walked right up to Peter.
“Get out of my face, girl,” Peter said. “I’ve got nothing against you.”
“You’re about to.”
Peter’s eyes opened wide just as Savanah balled up her fist and hit him with an uppercut. Peter must have been lifted six feet off the ground. He hung in the air a second. The lightning he was shooting left Ethan and Tommy and seared the walls and shelves. Then he slammed into one of the shelves of cleaner before falling limply to the ground.
The lightning finally disappeared.
Both Tommy and Ethan moaned in pain. I ignored Tommy and went to Ethan’s side. He had a few burn marks that looked as if he’d been scalded by hot water, but otherwise nothing serious. He was barely conscious, yet he winced when I ran my fingers over his injuries.
Peter was already stirring. We needed to tie him up or something before he attacked again.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Ethan. He nodded weakly.
I walked over to Peter’s semi-dazed body, telling Savanah to check on Tommy. She did as I said, with no argument, which was surprising.
I looked for something to tie Peter up with, but there was nothing. He was regaining his senses. It wouldn’t be long before he came at us again.
Behind me, Tommy stumbled to his feet and tried to make his way out of the room. He staggered into one of the shelves. One of the cleaning solutions spilled and hit one of the small fires, still burning.
The fire engulfed every shelf. Tommy stumbled again, trying to get his footing. He fell back into the shelves. With a groan of metal, the shelves collapsed on him. I couldn’t see any of him under the twisted metal and fire.
“Savanah! Grab Ethan!”
She took hold of his shirt and dragged him out of the room. I snatched Peter and hauled him from the room as well. The fumes from the burning chemicals made me lightheaded. I put Peter down and started back in to get Tommy. I got just inside the door when all the other shelves collapsed. A fireball rocketed out the doorway.
Tommy was dead.
“C’mon,” Savanah called. “Christine! Move!”
She was twenty feet down the hallway dragging Ethan under his arms. I picked Peter up in a similar fashion and followed. Several times I looked over my shoulder, but as the smoke got thicker, it was impossible to see.
Would we make it out alive? I hacked and coughed. No matter how much air I tried to take in, I couldn’t seem to get enough. Smoke clogged everything. It was as if my lungs just wouldn’t accept the oxygen I was trying to pump into it.
My head spun, my eyes watered to the point that I couldn’t tell which direction I was going. Each of my limbs seemed to shut down. When I felt like I couldn’t take another step, I was grabbed from behind by a pair of strong hands. My first instinct was to jerk away, but I looked up. For an instant my oxygen deprived brain thought I was staring into the face of an alien. Only one thought ran through my head, Tommy?
That’s when everything went black.
Chapter 13
Relativity
First, I had the honor of being screamed at by Mr. Philmore, for my recklessness and stupidity of staying in a burning building. Then the ambulance driver who took Ethan and me to the ER explained that it wasn’t my job to save people. Then my mother yelled about how irresponsible it was for me to not let the professionals handle it. After that, my dad was so angry he just told me I was grounded until Christmas.
That evening, as I lay in the hospital bed—I’d apparently inhaled a great deal of smoke—I was interviewed for the newspaper and the Five O’clock News. They were going to run a story about what true heroes were really like. It was crap, but I couldn’t tell the truth.
Visiting hours ended at 8, which I was very thankful for because I didn’t have to put up with the accusing stares of my parents any longer. After they left, Ethan came in. Most of his burn marks were gone. He had a couple of red marks that I was sure would be gone by the morning.
He slipped into the chair next to my bed, careful not to tangle his IV tube. “How ya doing?”
“I’m fine, I guess. Your parents yell at you too?”
“No. Remember, I wasn’t the one playing hero. Not as far as everyone else is concerned, anyway. They’re just concerned about my rapid heart rate.”
Wow, everything about him must be fast.
“Yeah, well I think both my parents want me dead right about now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I knew he meant about getting me in trouble. “Don’t apologize. I could have left whenever I wanted.”
“Nah. I wouldn’t have let you.”
I wondered about Savanah and Peter. They were both in the hospital, but I didn’t know what condition they were in. The only person I was sure of was Tommy. He would no longer grace the halls of Thomas Jefferson High School with his presence. I should have been happy about that, but for some reason, I wasn’t.
Tommy was a human being, no matter how vile. I kept going over in my head how I might have been able to save him, but couldn’t think of anything I could have done to change the outcome.
“Christine? You with me?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah. Sorry.” I snapped out of it. “My mind has been wandering all afternoon.”
“Yeah, I know how you feel.”
Why do I doubt that?
I looked into Ethan’s eyes for a second, and had to look away immediately. Someone else had been plaguing my mind since the crisis ended. When it counted most, when I needed to save Ethan, my friend, I couldn’t do it. My power had abandoned me.
“What’s the matter?” He always sensed the darkening of my mood. I wondered why that was.
I explained what I’d been thinking: about how had I tried to use my power to induce fear in Peter. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t do it.”
“I think it’s because you felt so guilty about what you’d done to him that your mind couldn’t bear hurting him again.”
“You think so?”
“Well, I’m not a head shrink, but maybe.”
“Maybe you’re not a head shrink, but you are a head case to keep hanging out with me.”
“Nah.” He waved his hand as if to say I was crazy. “I’d be a head case if I didn’t keep hanging with you. I wouldn’t tell anyone else this, Chris.” It was the first time he’d called me Chris. It sounded strange coming out of his mouth, and yet right all at the same time. “You’re probably my best friend.”
“Best friend, huh?” I sighed. Coming from my mouth, the words sounded like a curse.
Ethan’s face dropped and a tiny bit of sadness washed over me. “What? You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
To me, it was a bad thing. I didn’t want to be caught in the “Friend Zone” with Ethan. I wanted it to be so much more. “No,” I lied. “Not bad. But we’ve only been hanging out for what, a month now? How do we know what we are?”
He shrugged. “It’s just how I feel.”
“Well, this’ll probably piss Tiffany off, but I think you might be my best friend too.”
He chuckled at that.
We talked for about another hour, till the nurse came and kicked him out. Then she gave me something to knock me out. I don’t even think I was awake when she left the room.
****
Thanksgiving morning, the doctors finally let my parent’s take me home. I felt absolutely fine, but they wanted to run all sorts of tests to make sure that my bout with the chemical fire hadn’t damaged anything permanently.
My parents brought a change of clothes. I opened the bag and stared blankly at the contents: a new pair of blue jeans, a bright yellow shirt, a pair of sneakers, and a florescent pink bra.
“What’s this?” I held the undergarment up to my mother. “Where are my clothes?”
“I went shopping for you yesterday.” She was half happy, half snotty. “I’m tired of you looking so dark and depressed all the time.”
Keep your temper, Christine.
I thought seriously of tearing the bra to shreds, but I just threw it on the bed and heaved a sigh. I seriously wanted to kill the woman. Having little choice, since my parents had taken my old clothes home on Monday, I changed into the bright colored garments. I’m not sure she realized the bright pink bra would show through the light yellow shirt, but it did, and she didn’t say anything about it. She did, however, think about how cute I looked.
I missed my real clothes.
We always went over to Grandma Carpenter’s for Thanksgiving. My grandparents lived a little over an hour away in Freeport, so we headed straight there from the hospital. We arrived around noon.
My grandmother greeted us at the door. She looked so excited to see us, and I realized that I hadn’t seen them since our Labor Day barbecue.
Her old, wrinkled face was drawn back into a wide smile. “Oh my God, Christine! You look so beautiful, look how you’ve grown. I lo-o-ve that shirt.” Then she grabbed me in a big bear hug and gave me a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek.
“Hi, Grandma,” I groaned. “Thanks, but Mom, picked it out.”
I loved my grandmother, but sometimes her greetings were a little much.
“Penny,” my grandmother said, turning on my mother, “you’re not forcing yourself on her again, are you?”
“No, Ma,” my mother answered back.
Grandpa Carpenter walked into the foyer. He was a big man and though he was over eighty years old, he still looked like he was in his fifties. “Where’s my little girl?” He held out his arms.
“Grandpa!” I knew I might hurt him, but I jumped into his arms and accepted another bear hug. He scooped me up like it was no effort at all. Of all my family, he was the one that understood me the most. “How you doing, sweetie?” he said as I felt my feet touch down on the floor.
“I’m fine.”
“How’s school?”
“Fine.” I would have loved to tell him all the things that had happened, but as much as he understood me there were certain things he would never understand.
“Your mother dressed you, didn’t she?”
I looked up at him with a smile he would understand meant a definite “Yes”.
A few minutes later Aunt Rachel and Uncle Murray arrived with my two little cousins. Courtney and Josh were six and eight years old and about as annoying as newborn babies.
“Gramma!” They sprinted across the living room into her arms.
Now you behave today, Aunt Rachel’s voice echoed through my brain even before she and my uncle walked through the door.
Don’t make me censor myself for them, I heard my uncle answer. You act as if it’s my fault.
My aunt—Dad’s only sibling—was a lawyer. My uncle was an aerospace engineer. They could pretty much afford anything. Hell, I think both of my cousins had their entire college education paid for by the time Josh turned five. Uncle Murray was not unaccustomed to rubbing my parent’s noses in how much better off my cousins had it than I did.
“Hey, Larry.” My uncle shook hands with my dad. “How’s work?”
I gave both my aunt and uncle a polite peck on the cheek and then retreated into the den to watch some TV. I really didn’t want to be in the middle of it when the fireworks started flying.
“Christine!” I was so engrossed with the television that I hadn’t even noticed Courtney follow me into the room. I had only a second to brace myself before all fifty pounds of her bounded into my lap. She was a cute girl, her hair as red as mine was black. Her parents had her dressed in a lovely party dress, something I wouldn’t be caught dead in, even at her age.
“Hey, Courtney.” I smiled at her. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” She squirmed in my lap to make herself more comfortable.
“Is Daddy fighting with Uncle Larry already?” I asked.
She nodded.
That didn’t take long.
“What grade are you in now?” Asking her anything that might keep her mind off the adults.
“First.” Then she went into a whole explanation about how she was in Ms. Stephanie’s class and how they read a book called Brown Bear every day. And how she was learning to add and subtract. And how her best friend Deidra was in her class. On and on she went for what seemed like an hour.
For everything she told me, her mind went to the next thought before she even finished. It got so confusing at one point that I needed to block her thoughts out. It was amazing that one little six year old could give me as big a headache as a room full of teenagers. Her mind was utter chaos.
“What about you?” she asked after she finished.
I hadn’t been paying attention. “What?”
She barely even noticed. “What about your school? Are all the people nice?”
“Yeah,” I lied. I didn’t want to spoil it for her. “Everyone is really nice.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
Then, as if that was where the conversation was destined to end, she slid off my lap and ran out of the room. I was confused for a second, then realized she was only six and didn’t have that great of an attention span. I wondered if I’d been the same way at that age. I didn’t leave the den, or the TV until my mom called me to the dining room.
My grandparents’ long table was the perfect size for the nine of us. There was room for just one more seat and I couldn’t help but think of the newest addition that would be sitting there, in a high chair, a year from now.
As if reading my mind, my mother stood up. “We have an announcement.”
Oh my God, she hasn’t told anyone.
“Our family has been blessed,” she announced.
I heard my uncle groan and I glared at him.
“By next summer, we will be welcoming our second child into the world.”
“Oh!” My grandmother was quite beside herself. For her, having another grandchild was a great accomplishment. I saw in her mind all the things she planned on buying the new baby.
My grandfather, on the other hand, sat there with a smile, as if he already knew the news. Other than that, I got no reading on him.
The two kids were happy. I’m not the littlest anymore, Courtney thought. Josh was more in the mindset of, Wow, I’m going to be an uncle! I really don’t think he understood how that worked. The only two that didn’t seem happy about the news were Aunt Rachel and Uncle Murray. My aunt was more worried than anything.
It was actually my uncle who I wanted to stab through the hand with my fork. Great. Another kid to split the will. As if they aren’t going to get enough from the old codgers when they kick to begin with.
My head shot around and I came very close to shouting, “What did you say?” I stopped myself in time, and held back my fury. I wanted to dig deep into his mind and see him screaming in terror at that moment. He’d gone too far. But I realized he probably always thought that way, I’d just never been able to hear him before.
When everything calmed down and the congratulations came from everyone, especially my grandma, who must have said it a dozen times, we finally began the meal. Uncle Murray’s thoughts didn’t improve. My hands clenched around the fork several times as I debated jabbing it into his hand.
He’s sitting right across from you. It’ll be easy.
Every time I clenched my fists, I noticed my grandfather looking at me, but when I met his gaze, he looked away.
My father announced that I’d been in the newspaper, and how heroic I’d been when my school caught fire. He left out the part that included the hour of screaming by he and my mother. I wondered if he’d forgiven me, but his thoughts told me I was still grounded.
When dinner ended, I got up from the table as quickly as I could, for fear that being in proximity to Uncle Murray would cause me to do something stupid. I helped my mom and grandmother with the dishes because my uncle wouldn’t enter the kitchen if he could help it.
I did my best to ignore my grandmother and mother as they chatted about the new baby. I still couldn’t believe she’d left my Grandma in the dark. She found out weeks ago that she was pregnant.
My grandfather shuffled into the kitchen. “Do you two ladies mind if I borrow my lovely granddaughter from you for a few minutes?”
Both looked at me as if they just noticed I was there. “Sure,” they said, then went back to their conversation. I was only happy to leave.
My grandfather led me through the living room where the rest of my family had congregated. My aunt and uncle on one couch, my father on the other, continuing their earlier conversation as the children played blissfully on the floor.
“If you hate your job, Larry, I don’t understand why you won’t take me up on my offer,” Uncle Murray said.
“It’s just not the right time,” my father responded.
Grandpa brought me upstairs and then pulled the stairs down out of the ceiling that went into the attic. “Heck of a day,” he said as he ascended the steep staircase.
“Yeah. Why does my dad always fight with Uncle Murray?”
“Come on, Christine. I know you’re smarter than that.”
“I know Uncle Murray’s a jerk. Why can’t Dad just ignore him? That’s what he tells me to do.”
“The one thing I’ve learned in my life, sweetie, is that parents never follow their own advice.”
“Words of wisdom,” I said sarcastically.
I hadn’t been up here for ages. It was cluttered with a bunch of old junk. Old trunks lay scattered about, some of my grandmother’s old dresses, that she would never fit in again, were bagged and hanging from hooks on the wall. Boxes of Christmas decorations lay in a couple of overflowing boxes, waiting for someone to take them down and set them up. There was a box of old toys up there somewhere that I had played with when I was younger.
“What are we doing up here?” I asked.
“I want to show you something.” He walked to the far side of the attic. “Besides, I thought we could both use a few minutes away from the family.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, thinking again of my dad and uncle—and my mother and grandmother.
“So, why aren’t you excited about the new baby?”
“How do you know I’m not excited?”
“You’re not very good at hiding your emotions.”
I sighed. “I know.”
My grandfather lifted a couple of boxes, trying to get to what was underneath. “So, why aren’t you excited?”
“I don’t know. I’m just too old to have a baby brother or sister.”
He gave me “the wink” like he always did when I said, what he called, the predictable answer. “You’re never too old. I have friends that are twenty years older than their youngest sibling.”
“I know.”
“You’re grossed out too, aren’t you?”
I giggled. He always knew the right thing to say to lighten my mood. “Yeah, just a little.”
“That, I understand.” He’d found the trunk he’d been looking for: an old, green painted footlocker with several latches on it. It looked ancient and ready to fall apart. My grandfather sat on an old crate in front of it and started opening it up. “So, do you have a boyfriend yet?”
“Grandpa!” I whined in my little playful whine.
He chuckled. “Just curious.”
He rooted through the old footlocker. I peeked over his shoulder and saw his old army uniform and various other artifacts from that time. He’d fought in World War II in Europe. I never even knew that until a couple of years ago—he hadn’t thought it appropriate to talk to a child about war.
“So?” he pressed the question.
“No,” I said. “At least, I don’t think so.”
He gave me that wink again. “In my day, a young lady always knew if she was dating a young man.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Let me guess. He’s your friend, and you really want it to be something more, but you’re not sure that he feels the same way.”
How does he do that? He had a way of putting words to all the confusing thoughts in my head.
“Yeah.”
He shoved the uniform aside. Underneath was a small gold frame with three medals hanging in it. He pushed that aside too. “It seems to me, you should just ask him how he feels.”
“It’s really more complicated than that, Grandpa.”
“Ahh. Here it is.” He pulled a worn book out of the bottom of the footlocker. It had a blank black leather cover. A simple rubber band held it shut. When he tried to remove the rubber band it snapped and broke.
“What is it?” I asked, grateful for the change of subject.
“It’s an old journal of mine from when I was in the army.” He flipped open the cover; a couple of pictures fell out. I picked them up before my grandfather could bend down. One of the pictures was a group of men, standing in front of a plain wooden building. I surmised they were my grandfather’s platoon, or regiment, or whatever it was called. The second picture was of a man and a woman holding each other and looking at the camera. It was my grandparents. I couldn’t believe how young they both looked. Once I was able to see the facial features, I could tell it was them. My grandfather actually looked a lot like my dad. I couldn’t believe the resemblance.
“That was taken a week before I was shipped off to boot camp.” There was a sad tone to his voice, as if he still regretted leaving my grandmother to fight in the war.
I gestured at the first picture. “Which one are you?”
He looked at it for a second, as if he had to study all the faces. “That one.” He pointed to the man in the bottom left corner.
“Why are you showing these to me?”
He leaned back against the stack of boxes behind him. “I think it’s time you knew your family history.”
I wished he would just explain what he meant instead of being all cryptic.
“I want you to take my journal and I want you to read it. I think you might learn something.”
I couldn’t imagine what a seventy-year old journal could teach me, but I didn’t want to insult him, so I took it and slipped the pictures back inside the front cover.
“Promise me, you’ll read it.”
“I promise,” I said.
He pulled me into another great bear hug. “My little girl is growing up.”
I hugged him back as tight as I could. The journal was very important to him, so it was a great gift that he wanted me to read it. I just didn’t know what I would do with it.
“So.” He let go of me when it was apparent I was having trouble breathing. “Tell me more about this boyfriend of yours.”
Chapter 14
Unexpected Friends
I don’t think I will ever understand how when people die, they automatically become saints.
Since they had to close school the day after the fire, none of the students had been in the building since. As a result, on the morning announcements once renovations had been done, Mr. Philmore said some words about what a great and outstanding person Tommy Fulton was and how he would always be in our prayers. Then he asked for a moment of silence.
I just felt like screaming. I felt bad for Tommy, but saying he was a “good boy” was just plain ridiculous. On the other hand, I enjoyed the attention I got from the rest of the student body. It was nice to be noticed for positive things instead of negative. Even Mr. Quinn shook my hand and complimented me, which was way out of character for him.
Savanah was nice to me, too. She didn’t say a single derogatory thing (or even think one, for that matter). It was like she was an entirely different person.
I was speechless when I heard they never found Tommy’s body, at least not all of it. The fire department found only a couple of bones—the rest must have gone up in the fire.
If that wasn’t creepy enough, I was severely shocked by what happened in chemistry.
“Hey, Christine,” a soft voice said over my shoulder. I thought it was Lance or Kyle, coming to congratulate me on turning sheer stupidity into a glorious popularity. As I turned, however, I cried out in fear.
Peter stood close enough to choke me, or even shock me, to death. After the other day, I wouldn’t put it past him. Except today, he didn’t look angry, or irritated, or even remotely close to attacking. He looked happy, and a little awkward.
“Hey,” I managed to squeeze through my lips.
“What’s up?”
What was going on? A week before, he had tried to kill Ethan and me. Now, he was acting all chummy. For a second, I thought it might have been a trick, but a quick scan of his brain revealed he was genuinely coming over to talk to me.
“Nothing much,” I answered.
He scratched the back of his neck as he looked off into space. “Listen,” he said, finally, “Thanks for saving me. They said I took a pretty hard hit and you dragged me to safety.”
“Yeah.” He took a hard hit all right. I wasn’t sure how much power Savanah packed, but I was pretty sure she could knock down a concrete wall with one of her punches.
“I don’t remember anything about that day,” he explained. “It’s like it never even happened for me, ya know?”
Again, I thought it might be a trick. I searched through his memories, but that day was a complete blank. He really didn’t remember.
That’s a good thing? Right? I asked myself.
Then why do I still feel horrible about it?
“So… ummm… thanks,” he said again, after I didn’t respond to his last statement. “So, would you like to go out for a burger or something after school?”
Is he asking me out?
He sat next to me. Another bad sign. I’d hurt the boy once—not that he remembered. I didn’t want to hurt him again.
Why is he even asking you out anyway? the voice in my head asked.
The way he looked at me reminded me of the way a baby looks at its mother for a bottle. How could I turn such expectation into abysmal heartache?
“Why don’t you just come sit with me at lunch?” I said instead. At least then, I would have all my other friends around. Maybe he would take a liking to Tiffany.
He hesitated, and I literally heard the wheels turning in his head. It wasn’t the answer he expected, or the answer he wanted, but it would do.
Maybe I can convince her I’m worth dating, he thought, just before he said, “Not a prob.”
“I’ll see you then?” I hoped he would sense the tone and move back to the other side of the room.
He said, “Yeah,” but didn’t move.
As class began, Peter wasn’t paying attention. Try as I might to block them out, the fantasies he played in his head were just too powerful. First, it was us at a lunch table, holding hands. Then ending a date in front of my house where I gave him a huge kiss goodnight. Then walking along the beach and kissing some more. I felt like beating my head into the table. Thankfully, I was saved by the bell and ran out into the hallway, which was quickly filling with students.
History was a bore, but I was once again congratulated on my heroic efforts. Then I had English. When Sam walked in, I could already tell he was in a mood. I hadn’t seen him since the fire—he had no reason to be upset with me. He didn’t look at me. He just stared blankly at the board that only had the date written on it.
I put my bag down and said quietly and simply, “Hi.”
He still didn’t look at me. “So, you’re going out with this guy Peter, tonight,” he finally said.
I really was going to beat my head into the desk. Actually, I was going to beat in Peter’s head…
Rather than tell Sam anything, I found myself in a defensive position. “What’s it to you? Why do you even care?” I said it in a low voice, but there was no way he could miss my anger. He had no right to care about who I dated, or hung out with. He was only my friend, it wasn’t like he was my…
I saw the defeat in his eyes. The grief radiating off him… and the jealousy. Why hadn’t I ever seen it before?
“I just care. That’s all.”
No matter where I turned, I hurt someone. I wanted to ask Sam a thousand questions, starting with when and how, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter a single syllable. I feared one more word would send him over the edge into total and absolute misery.
These guys aren’t right for her, Sam thought.
It was decided. The pounding would begin, though I wasn’t sure the desk or my head were strong enough for the brutality I wanted to inflict on them.
“Today class,” Ms. Schroeder began, saving both the desk and my head from meeting.
I couldn’t wait for class to end. Actually, I couldn’t wait for school to end and I could retreat to my home. Lunch would bring more torment because I’d have Sam, Peter, and Ethan, at the same table. It was enough to drive a girl insane.
The bell rang after twelve eternities, and for once I didn’t charge out of the room. I wanted to wait for Sam, to talk to him. I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter, he never gave me the chance. Before the bell even stopped ringing, he barreled out.
Damn. I had to do some damage control later. I hated damage control.
I sulked through the hallway, wondering how such a good start to a day could have turned out so badly. It feels like I got trampled by the basketball team… twice.
Only Tiffany sat at the table as I plopped in my seat and put my head down.
“Bad day?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” I mumbled.
I was cursed. That was it. I would never be allowed a happy moment without being punished horribly for it.
I felt Tiffany’s hand on my shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s Sam.” It was all I could think to say. I wouldn’t lie to her, not about that. As I looked into her eyes, I saw a profound amount of hurt. She was holding back great deal of pain…for my sake. I opened my mind, and discovered what was troubling her. She’d seen David kissing Brittany Ravancho.
“Oh, Tiff,” I nearly burst out crying, “I’m so sorry.”
“Huh?” Her face and her thoughts showed her incomprehension.
“David is an ass. If you want me to kill him for you, I will.”
Tiffany laughed and cried at the same time. I slid around the table and held her in a hug, and joined in her sobs. It had been that kind of day. I hated crying.
It took a couple minutes for us to regain our senses. I felt both Ethan and Peter standing in the fringes, wanting to come over to the table, and also wanting to give us our space.
I was about to motion them over when Tiffany asked between a few remaining sniffles, “So… what about… Sam?”
I sighed. I couldn’t lie to her, but at the same time I really didn’t want to tell her. I pulled back a few inches then pressed my forehead up against hers. “I, sort of, just found out that he has feelings for me. Like ‘more than friend’ feelings.”
“Oh God, Chris.” She laughed. “You didn’t know that?”
“No.” I was completely bewildered. I was the mind reader, and yet she had figured out about Sam.
“It’s so obvious.” She ticked off on her fingers. “The way he looks at you. How jealous he gets when Ethan is around. How he doesn’t stop talking about you. The way he protects you.”
“I’m an idiot.” I really needed a beating. “What do I do?”
“There’s nothing you can do. You can’t change the way he feels.”
It was true, but I had to do something. I couldn’t just let it fester, and then have Sam hate me for it.
I motioned over Ethan and Peter. “You know, the offer to kill David is still on the table,” I said before they sat.
“I may take you up on that.” Tiffany said, and, with one last sniff, we were fine, at least on the surface.
I introduced Peter, and met Ethan’s wary glance with a look that said, I’ll tell you later.
As if lunch couldn’t get any weirder, Savanah joined our rag tag group. I couldn’t tell which of the four of us was the most surprised. The shock definitely ran up and down my spine as the girl grinned wide. I sensed similar shock in the minds of both Ethan and Tiffany. The only thing Tiffany knew about me and Savanah was that we’d risked our lives in the fire.
The gaze of half the cafeteria was on our little table. Savanah, the rich, stuck up, snotty, prissy, right side of the tracks, always dressed for success, girl was sitting with us losers.
Peter, on the other hand, was too busy in his own hero worship—or should I say infatuation—to even register what was happening at our very lunch table.
“Hi guys,” Savanah said in the most pleasant voice. I wondered if we were on one of those hidden camera shows.
“Ummm… hi,” I said. I think I was the only one that hadn’t lost the ability to speak.
She took a bite of her salad before finally noticing all of us staring at her. “What?”
“That’s what I was about to ask you.”
She heaved a sigh and looked over her shoulder at the table where the “popular” kids sat.
An inspection of their thoughts showed exactly what I was looking for.
Can you believe her? Briand Jeffries whispered.
I can’t believe she risked her life for one of them, Fiona Martin added.
“Being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” asked Ethan.
Savanah looked over her shoulder again before grunting with disgust. She tried several times to stab a tomato before giving up and throwing down her fork. “I just can’t believe how shallow they are.”
I couldn’t help myself. “But, Savanah, you’re that shallow.” Tiffany kicked my ankle under the table. She’d thought that was her one shot at achieving popularity.
Savanah pushed her chair back and began to stand. She was already thinking what a mistake it had been to come and sit with us.
“No,” I said. “Please stay. I’m sorry.” I wouldn’t say so, but I wanted her to stick around, not for the same reasons as Tiffany, but enough to apologize.
She hesitated, but sat again. Tiffany launched into a tirade of a thousand questions, starting with where Savanah got her outfit.
“You could never afford it,” the girl responded in a semi-snide tone.
I spent the rest of lunch, listening to Tiffany question Savanah and trying my best not to notice the leers Peter gave me. It just goes to show how incredibly unstable the whole social system was in our high school. We had the all-star jock, the skater punk, the popular girl, the Goth chick (even though I’m not), and the Plain Jane all at the same table. I was surprised the universe hadn’t imploded yet.
I was so concerned about that, I almost forgot the problem plaguing me when I walked into the room: I had to find Sam and talk to him.
Also, if you like what you’ve read, consider becoming a premium subscriber. We offer a 7-day trial membership you can get by clicking “Subscribe” below. It will unlock all of the premium content for you to peruse while you decide whether it’s a good fit for you!
As always… thanks!
STAY AWESOME!!!