Mindspeak

by Sunseri, Heather

  “Hey, Coach,” Jack said as if they were long-time friends, which I knew they weren’t. “I’m afraid Lexi needs a reminder of what will happen if she leaves campus without permission from her new guardian.”

  “Lexi, did you leave campus?” He held out a hand to stop me. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. You will not swim next week if I catch you leaving campus without permission.”

  Are you serious? You brought me here to be lectured by my coach? Do you truly think I give a flying crap about the swim meet?

  I was afraid that’s what you would say. Jack closed the door behind him, then turned slowly back to face the coach. “Private Detective Williams, please tell Miss Matthews what else will happen if she were to disobey the rules that have been set forth for her protection.”

  “I don’t understand. Detective?”

  A look passed between Coach and Jack, before Coach said, “That’s right, Lexi. We tried to keep this quiet, but I always knew the time might come when I’d have to share with you my identity. Especially with your dad gone.”

  “But you’ve been here since before I arrived.”

  “Yes.”

  “And my best coach ever.”

  “My credentials as a swimmer are real. I was an NCAA champion swimmer, nine times over, and a certified coach before I…” Coach stopped. Took a breath.

  I glanced from Coach to Jack and back to coach. “Before you what?”

  “Lexi, no one at this school knows what I’m about to reveal.” He crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. “I’m ex-FBI.”

  “You’re an FBI agent?”

  “Was. After twelve years in the field, I needed… let’s just say, a change of scenery. Your father hired me to look after you. And keep an eye on Wellington.”

  I raised a brow. “Wellington the person, or Wellington the institution?”

  “Is there a difference?” Coach chuckled.

  I didn’t crack a smile.

  “Show her.” Jack leaned against the door, crossed his arms.

  Show me what?

  “Right,” Coach clasped his hands together. He was nervous, excited. He approached a cabinet, unlocked it, and pulled out a cuff of some sort.

  “What is that?”

  “Dean Fisher has authorized me to place this on anyone who decides they simply can’t obey the lockdown rules.” When I raised a brow, he continued. “This is similar to house arrest bracelets—”

  I held up a hand to stop him. An image of Lindsay Lohan popped into my head. “I… I got it.” Then, I glared at Jack. “Are we done here?”

  A satisfied grin passed over Jack’s face.

  “Great. Fantastic.” I eyed Coach’s laptop like it might combust. Then I turned to him, his face expressionless. Part of his FBI training, maybe. “I’m positive I have more questions for you, but it will have to wait. I’m late for class. And quite frankly, I can’t look at either of you at the moment.”

  Jack grimaced. Don’t be mad.

  I placed my hand on the knob. Before I opened the door I thought to Jack, Don’t even think about following me out of here.

  I stormed out, and headed straight to the library computer lab.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  With the exception of a student worker, I was alone in the computer lab. Everyone else was in class. I pulled up the website, named for the starfish—a site I thought was Dad’s and my secret.

  A collage of drawings and pictures flashed across the screen. I clicked on the one in the middle. A black and white charcoal of a woman.

  “Gram,” I whispered. Her eyes stared back at me. I teared up.

  It barely looked like her, but I knew the love I felt when I drew it.

  I pushed the back button. My dad had apparently added pictures since I last visited. Some I didn’t remember sending him. I looked at the last icon. My current work-in-process.

  That’s strange? How did he get a hold of that?

  Almost instantly, Jack responded. What’s strange? Where are you?

  Get out of my head Jack! I closed him off.

  I had to learn better control and become more aware of someone slipping into my subconscious. It frightened me to know there were others like Jack and me, and even someone like me who might want to hurt me. Briana might not know her mind was altered, but what about someone else?

  The lab worker on the other side of the room giggled as she texted away on her phone.

  Wouldn’t it be easier to run? Maybe Jack was right.

  I gave my head a shake. I couldn’t think about that right now.

  What was Coach… Detective Williams doing on this website? He’d been watching over me? Did anything in my life make sense anymore?

  In addition to the portfolio of my artwork, there was a separate page detailing my swim times. The entire site amounted to an online scrapbook of my activities and hobbies. Evidence of a father’s love for a daughter he never saw, maybe.

  My stomach twisted and churned. I missed Dad so much. Despite all the secrets.

  I clicked on “home” one last time. There were no pictures of me, no personal information. “Why were you so interested in my amateur artwork, Coach?” Maybe he was just clicking through to the swim times. That could be it. Maybe he actually entered the times for Dad. That made sense, too.

  Who was I kidding? Nothing made sense.

  My pointer hovered over the “x” in the upper right hand corner.

  Then, I noticed it. In the sidebar, at the bottom of the screen. A tiny starfish. I ran the pointer over it. There didn’t appear to be a link attached to the small icon.

  “That’s strange,” I whispered. Then I remembered some of the computer security tricks Dad taught me over Christmas break one year. I thought of one in particular. Maybe there was a link hidden below this picture after all. I just needed to know the string of key strokes to push before the link would appear.

  I stared at the screen for what seemed like hours, not knowing where to begin. I tried “Shift.” I tried “Ctrl.” I tried “Shift + Ctrl.” Nothing.

  Since I had missed one class already, it made more sense for me to get to class and think about this later.

  ~~~~

  I entered Advanced Biology II out of breath just as the bell chimed.

  The only seat open was directly in front of Jack. After a heavy sigh, I slid into the seat without making eye contact and concentrated hard to shield him from my overactive thoughts and imagination.

  I’m sorry. Just those two words from him made my stomach clench.

  Mrs. McMillan scribbled the words “Animal Reproduction” on the chalkboard. Snickers erupted around the room.

  It’s just… I can’t protect you when you shut me out like that. What if something had happened to you away from campus? I would have been helpless. You could have been…

  I closed my eyes. I could hear the vulnerability in his voice, but he had overstepped. Who said I need or want you to protect me?

  His fingers grazed the back of my neck. I would never keep up this ironclad shield with him touching me like that. He leaned close, his mouth next to my ear. “It’s me who needs to protect you.”

  Seth said you’ve been watching me for the past year.

  Did he now? Jack pulled his fingers away and I could hear him sit back hard against his chair.

  Yes, and I know you’re not a stalker, so what—

  “Miss Matthews,” Mrs. McMillan said over my thoughts.

  Shit. I had no idea what she asked.

  Parthenogenesis, Jack said to my mind.

  Seriously? I asked.

  Yes, just say it. Parthenogenesis.

  “Parthenogenesis?” I answered in more of a question. Okay, maybe this mind thing was handy. I’d thank Jack later when I wasn’t so mad at him.

  The hour passed, and thankfully, Mrs. McMillan didn’t call on me again because I probably would have been distracted then, too. Jack had grown silent.

  The bell chimed. I stuffed my notebook in
side my bag, and before I could even zip it, Jack grabbed it from me, zipped it, and reached down and wrapped his hand around mine.

  He pulled me into the hallway. He was silent as we walked toward our next class.

  “Lexi. Jack.” I heard our names over the bustle of students behind us. Danielle rushed toward us waving something over her head.

  “Have you seen it?” she asked when she reached us, beaming.

  “Seen what?” I glanced nervously at Jack.

  “The glossies for the art show this weekend?”

  Uh-oh. I had totally forgotten.

  “What art show?” Jack asked. He took the brochure she offered. “Wellington Boarding School presents its sixth annual Fall Art Gala, featuring the work of Danielle Gray, Barkley Sanders, and Lexi Matthews.” He handed the brochure back to Danielle, his eyes never leaving mine. A slow grin twitched at the corners of his lips.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Danielle asked.

  “No, actually, it hadn’t come up.”

  “There’s a dance after. I wonder if Barkley has a date yet.” She wiggled her brows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Just like that, Dani flitted off back where she came from.

  “Hey. Can you take me to see Gram today?”

  “We don’t have permission to leave campus. My father gets back into town today, and he’s pretty pissed about the accident last week.”

  I drilled the heel of my palm into my forehead. “I’m so tired of being controlled. I want to go see my grandmother,” I said. “Either you take me or I will find another way.”

  He yanked me closer. I started to resist, but decided that would not help my cause. “Tomorrow. I’ll talk to Father tonight and see what I can do.” Just don’t shut me out, okay?

  I make no promises at this point. I’m still mad at you, and I’m tired of so many rules.

  Jack frowned. That’s not fair.

  No, it isn’t. Nothing about your or my life is fair.

  ~~~~

  Kyle plopped down beside me on the library couch, where I attempted to concentrate on college applications. His woodsy cologne barely covered the remnants of chlorine. “You and DeWeese fighting?”

  I kept working. “Fighting?”

  “Looked like you were getting pretty intense after biology.”

  “Did it? No. We’re fine.”

  “You two serious?”

  “Serious?” What was this? How could I politely tell him to back off?

  My phone chimed from the pocket of my fleece jacket.

  “You’ve never dated anyone at Wellington. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” It wasn’t that he seemed jealous, more like he was fishing for information.

  “Yes, I guess you could say we’re dating.” I pulled my phone out and stared at the screen. A text from Marci.

  Found Sandra. 106 West Rose Street.

  Rose Street? That runs through the middle of UK’s campus. I texted back: What is that? An apartment building?

  I scanned the library with my eyes. “Have you seen Jack?”

  “You do have it bad.” Kyle chuckled.

  “What? No. I just need to go somewhere. And I need a ride.”

  I didn’t see Jack. In fact, I hadn’t seen him since classes were over. Which was a good thing. Maybe I could leave and be back before he noticed I was gone.

  My phone chimed. No. University hospital. She is or was a patient there.

  A patient?

  Kyle had never been one to worry about rules, and I wasn’t sure Jack would take me where I wanted to go. “You in or out?”

  “Me?” He pointed his finger into his chest. “You want a ride from me? Did you get permission to leave?”

  I really hated lying to my friends. It just wasn’t something I did. “If I say ‘yes,’ will you take me?”

  He thought for a solid five seconds. A gleam actually flashed in his eyes. “Let’s roll.”

  ~~~~

  The university hospital was an enormous complex of offices, research labs, a specialized children’s hospital, along with several wings of the actual hospital.

  “This place has turned into a small city since my grandmother died here a couple of years ago.” Kyle looked over his shoulder, switching lanes.

  “Your grandmother died here? In this hospital?” I realized I knew very little about Kyle’s family. If his grandmother was from the area, his family might live close as well.

  “Yeah.” He leaned forward and looked up at the tall building in front of us. “Why are we here?”

  “I need to visit a friend of my dad’s.”

  “Well, parking is a nightmare. How about I drop you off? That way you can have a head start. I’ll park and come find you.”

  Did I really want Kyle with me when I faced the woman who looked exactly like me twenty-seven years into the future? “Actually, I won’t be long. Why don’t you grab a coffee at the shop we passed back there?” I thumbed behind me. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to be picked up.”

  “You sure?” He studied me for a second.

  “Absolutely.” I tried to sound casual. Like this was no big deal.

  With that, I jumped out and jogged toward the front entrance. It was definitely better if I did this alone.

  Several people congregated, smoking around a bench outside the hospital. The smell reminded me of Smoking Man. An ambulance siren came closer and whizzed past me just as I reached the large revolving door. Once inside, I approached a white-haired lady sitting behind an information desk reading a scraggly-looking paperback.

  After finishing the page she was on, she peered at me over her bifocals. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “I’m here to visit a patient. Um… Sandra Whitmeyer.”

  “Let’s see.” She clicked her mouse a few times. Typed. Clicked some more. “You family?” she asked without looking at me.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A few more clicks and several “hmmms” later, she said, “Just a minute.”

  She picked up her phone, dialed a number, listened, punched in another number, then hung up.

  Strange.

  When her eyes found mine again, she smiled and said, “Room 618. Elevators are down the hall on the right.”

  I edged along the hallway in the direction she pointed. Nurses and doctors in various colors and patterns of scrubs passed me without a glance. The elevator opened and a family rushed out. A small child bumped into me as he ran past. I stepped on, followed by a man in green scrubs, and pressed the number six.

  With each floor we passed, the elevator dinged. The man got off on five, and I was alone.

  The doors opened on the sixth floor into another bright hallway. To my left, a small waiting area and a series of doors opened to even smaller rooms, and one closed door. Through the window, I saw three people huddled together. Maybe in prayer, but definitely comforting each other.

  To my right—a large set of double doors. On the wall beside the doors, gold lettering—Neurology - ICU.

  A sign on the doors read, “Ring bell for entrance.” Sure enough, a button resembling a doorbell hung to the right of the doors and a card scanner for those with the right credentials.

  I approached slowly. My fingers hovered over the button. I didn’t know if it was the rumbling deep in the pit of my stomach or the warning bells I imagined inside my head, but I pulled my hand back without ringing the bell.

  Was Sandra truly behind this double set of doors? I was struggling to believe that the white-haired woman just sent me straight up to the Neurology ICU, no questions asked other than taking me at my word that I was, in fact, Sandra Whitmeyer’s family.

  I guessed I could prove it with a DNA sample.

  I stared at the door again. What was the worst that could happen? A nurse or doctor could turn me away. Tell me I’m not allowed on this floor unless I’m family. Did I really want to see Sandra? Look into eyes identical to mine? Prove once and for all that I was
the freak I thought I was?

  Suddenly the door in front of me shook. I jumped back. Looked all around.

  I jumped into one of the private rooms like a guilty, crazy person.

  The doors opened slowly, the way they do when you hit the handicap button. A couple of nurse-looking people exited and waited for the elevator. Once they were on, I approached the entrance again. The doors were just starting to close.

  This was my chance. Did I jump through them? What was I even scared of? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Not really.

  I slid through the opening just before the doors closed. On the other side, a hallway of hospital rooms in two directions. A nurse’s station to my left. In front of me... Room number 632.

  I’d always thought the best way to get where I wanted was to act like I already belonged. So, I walked along the hallway with purpose.

  630.

  628.

  626.

  Jack.

  I stopped in my tracks, and backed up against a wall. Inside room 624 was Jack. Or a person identical to Jack. I needed to look again to be sure. But I was nearly certain Jack leaned over a bed inside the room.

  Slowly, I angled my body toward the room again and was about to lean my head around the corner to peek in when a hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me backwards.

  I gasped, almost letting out a loud shriek. My palm flattened over my heart where I massaged my out-of-control pulse. I gazed helplessly into the eyes of Seth Whitmeyer.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “What are you doing here?” Seth asked, keeping his voice low.

  I stared at him, eyes wide.

  “He finally told you.”

  I shook my head freakishly fast. “Who is that in there? Is it Sandra?”

  “Sandra?” Seth asked, confused. “No. That’s Addison.”

  “Addison?”

  “Jack promised me he would tell you.” He peered around me and inside the room. “Come on.” Seth put his hand on my back and led me back the way I’d come.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, panicked. I could reach out to Jack with my mind, but that would be admitting to having left Wellington. Again. Without permission.