by Cory Clubb
I hadn’t, and the news KO’ed me like an MMA fighter. I’d been so caught up in everything else that something like that never even crossed my mind. I’d been too busy jumping around inside other people’s minds.
The right thing to do would be to attend, pay my respects. An uncertain wave of guilt drenched me again. I had half a thought to reconsider, but I knew Laura would be there. It might make for a simple meeting place.
I stepped into the bathroom and sprayed on some deodorant. I called out to Dean. “You probably won’t believe it, but Laura Hartman left me a message and wants to meet me.”
Dean was silent.
“Did you hear me?”
Dean seemed preoccupied, his athletic frame a bit on the sluggish side. I took a gulp full of mouthwash and swished.
“Um, yeah. Did she say what it was about?” he finally answered. I spit and exited the bathroom. Grabbing a clean shirt, I ran a broken comb through my brown hair, trying to look halfway presentable.
“No, but I have a feeling it’s not good.”
Dean made a “humph” noise.
“What?” I asked.
He was looking at me now. “You might want to wear something black, or maybe a dressier shirt.”
I pulled out the bottom of the shirt, stretching it out. He was right—this faded red T-shirt probably wouldn’t cut it at a memorial service.
“The only dressier shirt I have is the one I got last night.”
My eyes drifted to the Old Navy bag that lay in a heap on the floor. Dean saw it too.
He shook his head. “You can borrow one of mine and hang that one up. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
***
DEAN’S DODGE IDLED IN one of the last parking spots in the almost-full lot at school. He shut off the ignition as I rolled the sleeves of the extra-large dress shirt Dean had lent me.
“Ready?” he asked.
He meant, was I ready to go inside, but the weight of it held so much more. Was I ready to talk to Laura? Was I ready to possibly run into Trent? Was I ready to answer more bizarre questions from Kate? And most of all, was I ready to relive memories of Stephanie? Did I really have a choice?
“Let’s roll,” I said.
Dean knew I carried all this baggage and was supportive, but he didn’t fully understand. Kate, I think, was more interested in the whole mythos of my powers and getting to the bottom of what I’d seen inside Stephanie’s mind. Laura was probably out for herself and, if she could have it her way, would want the memorial service to highlight her life instead. Finally, Trent—Trent was a jerk, and that just about summed it up for him.
The two of us walked to the entrance of the school and went inside. It was really warm from all the people who had gathered as we followed a crowd into the gymnasium.
Despite the scheduled memorial, the gym itself was decked out in balloons, streamers, and the like for the celebration of a totally different event a mere few hours from now.
I felt groggy, lightheaded even, as Stephanie’s mourners filed in. I caught her parents; they looked a mess, and then I saw her younger brother. He was a junior high student, this probably being the first time he set foot in the high school and was probably not the way he pictured doing so, either.
A podium was set up at the far end of the other side, and I saw the principal, Mr. Muller, organizing some notecards behind it. Next to him was an oversized framed photo of Stephanie, bouquets of flowers arranged around it as if they were coming straight out of her hair. Then I spotted Laura. She looked sullen, almost sickly. I wondered if she was putting on an act or if the tears were real. I wasn’t close enough to pick up her gaze, let her know I was there, but then, just behind Laura was Greg.
I had almost completely forgotten about him, but of course he would be there. His whole outfit was black—suit, tie, shirt, pants, everything.
Mr. Muller started to speak, welcoming everyone. His voice was even, solid, and as I listened, my eyes still searched the sea of people; I couldn’t help it. My gaze drifted to Stephanie’s family, particularly her little brother. Then it was Stephanie’s face that flashed before me. She looked as I’d seen her inside her mind—sharp teeth, black-liquid eyes. I took a reassuring breath and set my eyes on the real photo of her. I breathed easier. That was how I wanted to remember her.
Then, as if someone were changing channels on TV, the photo swapped for the evil-looking Stephanie and I tore myself away from it. What was going on? I felt something bump me from the side. It was Dean, his expression concerned. All I could do was slightly shake my head.
There, a few people over from Dean, I saw him. He was looking directly at me—Trent. His eyes were so intense that they could have burned a hole through me. He gave me his crooked smile. I looked away. My whole body shook as my lightheadedness began to grow stronger.
Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out, I repeated to myself. Not here, not now—keep it together.
I could feel my inner walls rising up inside my mind like a self-defense mechanism. It was a good thing, too; it stirred my thoughts away from taking another look at Stephanie’s photo.
The principal ended his speech, and I realized I hadn’t even heard one part of it.
What was I even doing here? Remember, my mind answered back, you did this to her. Everybody began to move around again, and I saw a small board set up of mementos and more photos of years past. Stephanie was in all of them.
A line began to form to express condolences to the family, but I wasn’t ready for something like that. I took a seat on an open bleacher, although Dean joined the line. He hadn’t said anything to me about Stephanie. He probably knew how it affected me and didn’t want to force one of his conversations.
“Hey.” It was Kate. She was dressed modestly in a black dress and sat down beside me.
“How are you doing?”
I didn’t give an answer. My head felt like a blender set on “mush.” I watched as the line slowly began to move. Everything had become so surreal. Somebody could’ve told me that I was dreaming and I would actually have believed them. I think Kate felt it too because after that, she didn’t talk anymore.
The dream quickly became a nightmare when I saw Trent looking our way. I cursed under my breath.
Kate heard me and looked up to see him as well. We stood, but I didn’t take my eyes off him. I wanted to get inside his head. Suddenly he stopped, just out of my range, a cracked smile on his face. Was he trying to do the same thing to me?
Kate hooked her arm through mine and led me to the other side of the room. Something about Trent stayed with me; he looked rigid, almost dead inside. That was when Laura stepped out of the crowd like a floating angel and joined us. She looked to Kate.
“Mind if I talk to Nolan?” Laura’s tone was straightforward but had a bit of bite still in it.
I nodded at Kate, and she gave me a look that said “You better tell me later.” And I knew I would because in that very moment, the realization came over me that only Kate would understand.
Chapter Thirty-four
“IT’S MY FAULT STEPHANIE died.”
That was the way Laura started our conversation after we exited the gym and found a more private place to talk.
Laura’s eyes glossed in tears and her nose sniffled as she continued. “I just … I just didn’t want her to beat me.”
I shot out a breath of air. I felt bad for Laura, but I knew she hadn’t caused Stephanie’s death. My thoughts flipped back to Dr. Vance’s interpretation.
“The mind can become a very destructive place.”
So, why had hers become that place? The truth was, I had made it that way by using my ability. If I had never told Stephanie that Greg was going with Laura to the dance, maybe none of this would have happened.
Then Laura threw me a curveball. “Steph and I both met Greg last year at some summer event thing. He invited us to a few dances up at Richmond, but when he told her he was changing schools, I just knew it would put her over the top.”
Laura w
asn’t looking at me. She seemed distant, as if she were talking to the ghost Stephanie. “I didn’t want the new guy in school to go with my biggest competition, regardless of how she truly felt about him. So I asked Greg to the dance.”
I did my best to console Laura, but I was still shocked that she had set up the whole thing. Laura knew Stephanie liked Greg, pure and simple, but to Stephanie it hadn’t been a popularity contest, just love. Although there was one more thing I had to know.
“So … Greg never really lied. He was simply telling the truth.”
Laura broke down. “I told him that if he didn’t go to the dance with me, he would never make it around here. Told him he wanted to make a good first impression.”
It hit me. That was the reason I couldn’t find any evidence inside Greg’s mind that he had been lying—Greg wasn’t lying. Laura was. Just as the dance poster had read—Greg Wilkins lies. It wasn’t stating a fact; it was stating a fiction Laura had created in her own mind. She’d been lying to herself.
“Listen, Laura ...” I said, trying to say something to encourage her, but the question of why had Laura come to me surfaced instead. Did she just need to get it off her chest, or was I some trustworthy figure in her eyes? With all her popularity and her endless list of friends, the only person she could confide in was the guy who ultimately led her best friend to her dark place?
“I have to make things right. Preserve the goodness of Stephanie’s memory,” Laura said between sobs. “I plan to use my popularity for that from now on.” She wiped running mascara from beneath her eyes. “Your gift is getting information. Well instead, this time I want to hire you to spread it.” She sniffed and I saw new inspiration in her face. Something had changed in her. “I can pay you whatever it takes.” She paused, waiting for my response.
I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. Here was the most popular girl in school destroying the very thing she worked so hard to achieve. She’d seen her mistakes and made the resolve to correct them.
I gave her a kind smile that said I understood. “No payment necessary.”
Chapter Thirty-five
I HADN’T TAKEN THREE steps from Laura before Kate found me and shoved me into the girls’ restroom.
“It’s Trent!” Kate sounded as if she had just finished a hundred-meter dash.
My mind was still reeling from my encounter with Laura.
“What? Where is he?” I asked nervously, looking around.
She tapped the side of my temple. “He’s that thing inside Stephanie’s mind. It’s got to be him.”
I took Kate’s hands in mine and spoke slowly. “Whoa, slow down. How is that even possible?”
She arched an eyebrow at me as a woman entered the bathroom. The woman gave us both a frown.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” she barked.
Kate was still trying to talk as I led us both out into the hall.
I interrupted her, still trying to wrap my head around all this. “Wait, so explain this to me. How do you know it’s Trent?”
Kate fired right back. “Trent can also read—” She stopped talking and took a look around at about a dozen people standing in our vicinity. Her paranoia was setting in, but she didn’t need to finish the rest of her sentence.
I figured Trent had something to do with all this. He was a culprit in almost any case; the dude was like a headline after a hurricane—bad news. Something still didn’t fit, but then again, I couldn’t simply toss out Kate’s theory; she was a pretty good reporter.
“You’re going to need more than just a hunch,” I said.
“I’ll find it. In the meantime, we need to get out of here,” she replied.
Dean walked up to us.
“Where have you been?” He directed his question to me. Kate gave him a look that shot daggers. I considered the two of them and the events thus far.
“There’s a lot to talk about. Let’s go, but the three of us walk together,” I said, shifting my words to Kate.
Chapter Thirty-six
BACK AT DEAN’S CAR, I filled both Kate and Dean in on my revelation about Laura and her role in everything. Dean was shocked and I wished I could say the same for Kate, but she played it off like she had known the entire time.
Reluctantly, Kate shared her theories about Trent. For once Dean agreed with her, and it was my turn to be shocked.
“Trent has always been trouble and always will be.”
I nodded to Dean’s comment. I then suggested I go back inside, find Trent, and read his mind. Dean quickly shot down that idea and Kate agreed momentarily, but looked as if she was holding something back.
“This is not the place, and if Trent knows we’re on to him, he’ll bolt.” I had the feeling Kate wasn’t fully behind her own speculation, but it was all we had so far, so we kept the idea in play.
***
DEAN AND I WALKED in the front door, and I announced I was ready for something to eat while Dean said something about a nap. But I didn’t make it to the kitchen, and Dean never made it to his bed.
Rick and Tracy met us in the living room. Tracy sat with one hand on her mouth while Rick stood with his hands on his hips. Their expressions were both stoic.
Tracy was the first to speak. “Boys, we need to talk to you.”
Dean and I looked at each other. I could see the irony on Dean’s face, saying, You’re the mind reader—you tell me. I shrugged my shoulders, and we both landed on the couch.
Tracy looked up at her husband, silently passing the talking baton to him.
“Listen, guys, we have a bit of troubling news,” Rick started. “I just finished talking with a doctor at the hospital.” He set his eyes on me before he spoke again. “Dr. Vance, the man who was here last night, passed away.”
I felt the blood go from my face. “What happened?” I blurted out.
Rick shook his head. “They didn’t give the details.”
Tracy spoke again in a low tone. “He was just here.” She was obviously frazzled by the news.
Back to Rick. “They were calling to ask if he said anything peculiar or troubling the other night while visiting.”
Yeah, he said my dad was the best patient he’d ever had and helped me realize I’m leading people to a dark place.
“Look, I know you guys have the dance tonight and everything. I just want you to be careful, be safe. We love you both dearly.” Rick’s voice was solemn.
We nodded and left the room. Instead of roaming the kitchen for food, I had a something else in mind. Upstairs in my room, I flicked my touch pad and cued up my computer.
Come on, please be online.
I checked my list of online chat friends and saw that Kate’s name was lit green.
Yes.
I noticed Dean out of the corner of my eye while I typed.
“Now what are you doing?” he asked.
“Just running a theory.”
UncannyInc: Hey.
A moment passed, and a reply came back.
MuddyHuddy: You just can’t get enough of me, can you?
UncannyInc: Hilarious. Hey, check it out. A doctor at Murray Hospital just died. I’ve got a hunch it wasn’t an accident.
MuddyHuddy: Now you’re the reporter? LOL. What angle are you trying to work?
UncannyInc: No angle. Just want to see if you could find out some facts for me.
MuddyHuddy: Name?
UncannyInc: Dr. Edgar Vance
MuddyHuddy: Okay, stand by.
Dean spoke. “Nolan, what are you trying to prove?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a vibe I have.”
Dean didn’t look happy at my reasoning. “I think you’re wasting your time. I’m going for that nap.”
Lucky. I’d love a nap.
He turned to leave and then my computer pinged.
Boy, she’s fast.
MuddyHuddy: You’re right. Vance’s death was no accident.
“Ha! You see? I was right.”
“What?” Dean turned back
around.
“Kate says Vance’s death wasn’t an accident.”
“Oh, what—you’re going to believe everything your girlfriend says now?”
I stopped a minute and pondered that. Was Kate my girlfriend? I let the thought slide. My computer pinged again.
MuddyHuddy: I called that guy nurse again and asked him for details.
UncannyInc: Nice networking! So what happened to Vance? Was he murdered?
Dean was looking over my shoulder now. It took Kate a second to reply.
MuddyHuddy: Sorry, you’re wrong this time.
I shot a look at Dean.
UncannyInc: Okay—what, then?
MuddyHuddy: Suicide.
My fingers froze for a moment as the answer sank in.
UncannyInc: Suicide?
MuddyHuddy: Nurse said Vance hung himself in his office last night. What’s this all about?
UncannyInc: I’ll tell you tonight.
A chill ran down my spine; I noticed goose bumps on my arms. I’d forgotten and left my window open that morning. The cold air was still blowing in, although I couldn’t be certain that was the reason for my chill.
“Okay, Nolan, this is officially getting weird. I think we should back off,” Dean said. “Listen, forget all of it. Let’s just avoid Trent tonight and have a good time.”
I felt like I was in a daze, but I responded to him. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
RIVER CITY DIDN’T HAVE tons of places to eat in town. That wasn’t to say we were so unsophisticated as not to have a McDonald’s. Also in the mix were Irma’s Country Corner and The Burger Barge, hometown staples. Some people actually made the trek all the way to Chicago and back for a more “cultural” dining experience. Dean, Celia, Kate, and I were just fine splitting things down the middle and going to the local Italian place, Roberto’s. We weren’t alone, though; other couples had made reservations after hearing Dean and Celia were going there. What am I, chopped liver?
Personally, anywhere would have been fine with me. I just wanted to escape the Rick and Tracy photo shoot from hell. I’ll admit, I looked pretty good in my Harold shirt and tie, but I forgot all that when Kate showed up to the Mitchell house.
