Fearless

by Tawdra Kandle

  By the time my mom arrived at the school with a dry pair of jeans and a fresh shirt—and not a few questions about how I had ended up wet—Chemistry was over and English had begun. I tried to slip unobtrusively into the classroom, but it was not to be. Mrs. Cook stopped lecturing when I opened the door; I meekly handed her the pass that excused my tardiness and sat in the first empty desk I spied.

  As she resumed teaching, I scribbled some notes that I hoped would eventually make sense. When the bell rang, Mrs. Cook called me to her desk.

  “You’ll need to copy the notes you missed from someone,” she said, her eyes roving over the last students in the classroom. “Ah, Amber! Could you come here, please? Can you lend Tasmyn your notebook?”

  She addressed a girl who had been sitting diagonally across the aisle from me. I hadn’t really noticed her before this; Amber was the kind of girl who blended into the background easily. Her hair was brown, a little darker and straighter than mine. She was pretty in a very low-key way, wore no makeup that I could see and kept her hair in a simple ponytail low down her back. She wore jeans and a pale pink t-shirt and was not a little flustered to have been singled out by Mrs. Cook.

  Amber ducked her head and nodded in response to the teacher. She flipped her notebook open to the needed page and handed it to me. I caught her eye and smiled.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate this.” Amber stared at me for a moment, then nodded again.

  “I can copy the notes over lunch and get them back to you before the end of the day, if you’d like,” I added.

  “No rush,” she mumbled. “You can just bring the notebook to class tomorrow. I won’t need it until then.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “Thanks again.” I watched as she left the classroom, looking like she was in a hurry. I thanked the teacher and headed toward the cafeteria.

  As much as I had been looking forward to lunch earlier, I was kind of worried about it now. With some time to think about what had happened this morning, would Michael have figured out anything? Would he think I was crazy or some kind of freak?

  All the way from my locker to the lunchroom, I prepared myself to be cool and collected, as self-assured and blasé as Nell was. No matter what Michael had to say, I would deal with it. I might even be able to play off this morning’s events. After all, I hadn’t told him anything. I could explain away nearly all of it. My parents would expect me to do that. It would be so much easier to simply deny everything, to play dumb.

  Yet… I was surprised to realize how much I wanted to share it all, every detail, with Michael. The urge was amazingly strong. I wanted to tell him all the stories that had lived only in my mind for so long, all my memories, things I hadn’t even shared with my parents. It occurred to me in a sudden and painful way how solitary and lonely my life was. I had always known it had to be this way, so it didn’t even cross my mind to mourn what might have been. But now the longing to connect was consuming, as though part of me had been waiting for Michael all along.

  He was standing outside the cafeteria as he had promised, which I decided was a good sign. He was talking with another boy, a tall and thin red haired guy I recognized from lunch yesterday. I knew the minute that Michael caught sight of me, because he pushed away from the wall and moved toward me, even as his friend continued to talk. The other boy looked at him, confused, until he saw me, and then I saw him grin and shrug as he went through the doors into the cafeteria.

  “Hey,” Michael stood in front of me, his eyes never leaving my face. “You look… drier.”

  I looked down at myself as though checking on my condition. “Yeah, I decided the wet look was over-rated.” I gestured to where he had been standing. “I think you blew off your friend.”

  He looked over and shrugged. “Nah, he’s cool. He knew I was just waiting for you.”

  “Really?” I thought most guys played it cooler than that. Michael continued to be an enigma.

  He grinned and guided me toward the doorway and the lunch line. We didn’t speak as we chose food, although I saw Michael roll his eyes at my choices, and I clearly heard him thinking.

  Is that seriously all she’s gonna eat? Get a quiet table, talk about this morning. Got to figure it out and see… just see…

  I wasn’t surprised then when instead of heading for his friends at their normal table, Michael guided me toward the doors that led to the outdoor eating area.

  “Do you mind?” he asked. “I know it’s kind of hot, but I wanted some… privacy.”

  “No, that’s fine.” Privacy was abundant out here; I saw another couple sitting across the yard, but other than that, it was empty and quiet.

  We stopped at a table that was partly in the shade. I looked at Michael’s tray as he set it down. It held two pieces of pizza, a plate of fries, some carrots and celery, two cookies and two cartons of chocolate milk. No wonder he thought I ate like a bird.

  “That’s as much as I eat in a day. Where do you put it all?” I looked at him in amazement.

  “I guess I burn a lot of calories.” He took a huge bite of pizza and shook his head as I picked at my fruit bowl.

  “So…” he swallowed and took a swig of his chocolate milk. “You want to tell me about what happened in Chem today?”

  I was taken so completely by surprise that I actually dropped my fork onto the table. I had expected questions, but not about that.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how did you end up soaked?”

  I tore open my cracker pack and nibbled on one of them. “I thought I told you. I was doing a lab and I lost my balance and fell.”

  Michael gazed at me steadily. “That’s not what I hear. And it’s not what you told me this morning.”

  I tried to remember what I’d told him. What I had said was all jumbled in my mind with his words and thoughts. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a small school. People talk. Everyone’s saying that Nell Massler knocked you over on purpose in Chem, and that it was pretty nasty.”

  I bit my lip. “Yeah, I guess that’s pretty accurate.”

  “What did you tell the teacher?”

  I cast my mind back. “Same thing I just told you. I was reaching for a dropper and I fell.”

  Michael frowned. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth? Nell needs someone to stand up to her. You can’t let her get away with that kind of crap.”

  “I didn’t want to make it a big deal, okay? For some reason, Nell doesn’t seem to like me. At all. I don’t know why. But I can deal with it.” I gave up on the main part of lunch and moved onto dessert, breaking off a piece of cookie. “I’m not really sure why you’re even asking me about it. I thought you’d want to talk about… something else.”

  He smiled slightly. “Like what?”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I don’t know. Let’s see, you know next to nothing about me, and I don’t know anything about you except your name, your car and that you have a weird thing about welcoming new people to the school. You asked me to have lunch with you today. I thought it was so we could get to know each other. Or maybe talk about—what happened this morning after my Chem accident. And instead you’re interrogating me about Chem and what happened… and hey, speaking of that, how did you happen to be out of class at the same time I was this morning? Just coincidence?”

  I expected him to be offended, but he merely smiled and polished off his fries. “I do want to get to know you better. I expect to do that. I don’t know that this is the place to do it. I thought you might like more privacy for that. I know I would. I can tell you anything you want to know about me. Just ask. Oh, and the reason I was out there today was I saw you walk past my physics class, and I asked for a bathroom pass. You looked like something was wrong, and I was worried.”

  I didn’t really have any reply. The idea that he had been actively seeking me out to offer me help or comfort… that was astounding.

  “So here’s my story, in condensed version. My name is Michael Sawyer, like I
told you. I’m almost eighteen—my birthday is at the end of November. I’ve lived here all my life—in the country, outside of town. I have an older sister who is in college in Virginia.” He paused for a minute, thinking. “I don’t play football or baseball, but I run track. I’m a pretty fair student. I like to learn, so I usually like school. Did I forget anything?”

  I tilted my head, considering. “You said something yesterday about a job. Where do you work?”

  Michael’s forehead wrinkled as he frowned at me again. “I said something about work? I don’t remember.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, when you were asking me if I had a ride home…” Suddenly, I couldn’t remember if he really had mentioned a job or if he only thought it.

  He was looking at me oddly again, and I felt the same speculation from this morning. And once again, I heard him loud and clear.

  I don’t think I said anything about work. Did I? It’s almost like she can…

  I couldn’t help it. I flushed before he could finish that last thought. His eyes were fastened on my face, and I looked away quickly as my cheeks burned.

  His next thoughts were so deliberately organized that I would have known he was testing if even the words hadn’t confirmed it.

  That’s it, isn’t it? You can read my mind. You know what I’m thinking. This was followed by a huge wave of doubt as he began to second-guess his own intuition. Am I crazy? She’s gonna think so. Sitting here staring at her… psycho nut job…

  I dropped my head onto my hand and closed my eyes. The smart thing here would be to say something, anything, that would convince Michael he was wrong. I could just go on about the job, make him feel ridiculous for his insane suspicions. Keep him at a distance, don’t let him know for sure… that was my typical modus operandi. That’s exactly what I should have done.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I raised my head and met his eyes. I nodded, just once, barely a movement.

  Michael released the breath that he had been holding. “No way,” he murmured. “No freaking way.”

  “I’m sorry!” The words burst from my mouth before I could stop them. “I didn’t mean to listen to you. I’m sorry—”

  “Shhh.” Michael stopped me, raising his hand. “It’s okay. I think. I’m just—geez. Kind of—trying to figure this out.”

  I stared unseeing at the brown grass beneath our feet and focused with all of my might on not hearing Michael’s mind. I owed him this small gesture of privacy at least.

  “This is crazy,” he said finally. “You really can…?” When I nodded, he drew in a deep breath and smiled wryly at me.

  “So you’ve been reading my mind since we met yesterday?”

  “No!” I shook my head and met his level gaze. “I don’t try to hear thoughts—I really work hard not to hear them. I accidentally picked up a few things from your mind—but when I get upset, it’s harder to block. Sometimes I can’t tell what I’m hearing and what I’m—” I tapped my forehead, “—hearing.”

  To my utter relief, Michael looked more interested than horrified. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could speak, the bell buzzed, signaling the end of lunch.

  He ran a hand through his hair and scowled. “I want to talk about this more. But we can’t do it here.” He stood up abruptly, grabbing our trays, and I struggled to my feet, still feeling shaky.

  Michael dumped our trash into the nearby garbage can and set the trays in the slot on top of it. He turned back to me with another smile and reached out to touch my shoulder. I felt the same zing as before and sucked in a breath. If Michael noticed, he didn’t react.

  “Is your mom picking you up today?” he asked.

  I shook my head, and Michael’s smile widened.

  “Then can I give you a ride home? We could talk a little more, maybe.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  We both hesitated a moment more before Michael turned to lead me through the now emptying cafeteria and back to the main walkways, crowded with students. I turned to look up at him, to say goodbye, but my breath caught at the expression in his eyes—a mix of question and longing. I could feel the same mixture coming off him in waves, and when he gripped my shoulder again, I was nearly overwhelmed by the flood of emotion.

  “Are you okay?” Michael asked in alarm. “You just went white.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled in a breath. “Sometimes touch makes the connection stronger.” I covered his hand lightly with my own. “It just took me by surprise.”

  Michael nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Okay. I’ll see you at your locker after school.” He turned and joined the crowd, disappearing from my sight.