Connected: Book 1 Connected Series Page 4
“Nope.”
He jotted down another note. “How do you feel about changing doctors?”
“It’s fine.”
“Yes, of course it’s fine. You’re here,” he said, in a rushed tone. “But how do you feel?” He leaned in, as if anxious to hear my response.
Damn, he’s pushy. I had hoped to merely get by again. Say the minimum required and leave. “I don’t care.”
“Because you don’t want to be here.”
My mouth gaped open, but only for a moment. It wasn’t a surprise he could read me so easily. I didn’t hide my emotions very well.
“You think I can’t help you, right? Maybe it’s because there’s nothing wrong with you.”
That I didn’t expect him to say. “What?”
“Emily, there is nothing wrong with you,” he said, with an easygoing smile that seemed unnatural on him. “If anything, your mind is simply confused. I can help you. But for that to happen, you have to be open. Are you willing to open up to me?”
“Yes.” Get it over with, I thought.
“Then let’s relax.” He reached over to the iPod and without moving it an inch, he turned on this new age hippie music—it sounded like running water with some flute-like instrument playing a melody. “Emily, I want you to lie back on the couch, close your eyes, and listen to the sound of my voice.”
No other doctor I’d ever been to did any kind of relaxation. Surprisingly, the music did have a calming effect. I settled into the couch and closed my eyes.
“Take a deep breath and exhale. Keep breathing, slowly breathe in, and then slowly breathe out.” His voice was steady, like a heartbeat. My heart rate slowed down in response. He continued to talk me through the relaxation, from my head to my toes. By the time he finished, I was totally relaxed.
He paused, before he spoke in a quiet but assertive voice. “How are you feeling today, Emily?”
“Exhausted.” The word slid off my tongue before I could stop it.
“Why do you feel exhausted?”
The relaxation put me into a kind of trance; I was unable to hold back my thoughts. “My mother wants me to come here, and I don’t see the point.”
“Why are you here, Emily?”
I was silent because I didn’t know the answer, or one that made sense anyway. I thought about why my mother wanted me to go. My eyes remained closed, my body still and relaxed. I expected the doctor to repeat the question. But he didn’t. It was then the pain first began to build in my head.
“Tell me about your father,” he said in a tone that bordered on gloating.
How did he know about him? “He left when I was a kid.”
“He did more than leave,” he said knowingly. “Tell me the whole story.”
I can’t believe she told him. “What difference does it make now? He’s dead. I…I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Emily, you must be open for me to help you.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Then start from the beginning.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to talk about my father, but I felt a strange desire to answer. “He always treated me differently from my sister. Loved me more.”
“Why do you think he loved you more?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t go near my sister, but he was very close with me,” I said.
“How close?”
I opened my eyes. The sense of anticipation in the way he asked the question was entirely creepy. What is with this dude? “Nothing like that. Like a normal, loving father would be.”
He wrote a few more notes. “Why did he leave?”
“My mother kicked him out. She thought the same as you did. But he never did anything inappropriate with me.” The pain built steadily in my head.
“Are you reading my thoughts, Emily?” I swore he snickered when he said that.
“No.”
“Continue,” he said.
“He left.”
“What happened next?”
Why does he keep pressing me? I hated talking about my father, but the kidnapping was even worse. It always made me sick to think about it.
“Why do you hesitate, Emily? He can’t hurt you now.”
The words were meant to comfort me, and in a way they did. But it didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to relive it all over again. The pain flared, and I instinctively placed a hand on my forehead. It was burning up.
The doctor sat on the edge of his chair, leaning forward, expecting something.
“I…I don’t feel well.”
He let out a sharp exhale. “That’s fine, we’re done. Take a few deep breaths, and slowly come back out of your relaxed state.”
While I breathed, he scribbled some more notes. I wondered what he was writing.
He smiled. “I’m noting how far we’ve come. No need to worry.”
The pain resurged in my head. I put both hands to my forehead and couldn’t believe how hot it felt.
“I think we’ve made some great progress here, Emily.”
The heat subsided shortly afterwards. When I took my hands down from my head, I was surprised to discover my headache was gone.
“Would you like some aspirin?”
“No, I’m fine.”
He tilted his head to the side, like he didn’t expect that answer. “Did you enjoy our session?”
“Yes, thank you.” I flashed a nervous smile.
He laughed. “You don’t have to lie. I know you don’t like doctors.”
This time I glanced at him curiously. I wasn’t sure what to think.
“I’m looking forward to our next visit. There is so much more for you to tell me.” His grin was almost sadistic, and his eyes… They were so deliberate, like he could see inside me. He opened the door for me, and a chill ran down the length of my body when he touched my shoulder.
My mother ran late in picking me up. The oppressive sun weighed heavy on me outside, and I had to keep perfectly still to avoid breaking out in a full body sweat.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“So do you like this doctor better?”
“He’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. He’s just different,” I said. A silence followed while I built up the courage to confront her. “Why did you tell him about the kidnapping?”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.”
“What did you tell him then?”
“Nothing, I barely spoke to the man,” she said defensively. “I said you’d been seeing another doctor, and you have bad dreams. I didn’t mention him at all.”
I shuddered. Then how does he know so much about me?
Chapter Three
The next morning went smoothly—Angel was absent from English class. For a flickering moment, I had hope. Hope that hell had finally reclaimed her. But then I saw her in the hallway on my way to lunch, discussing how small her butt looked in her new jeans. Her little followers nodded in agreement. So much for wishful thinking.
After I got my food, I sat down next to Roz. Within seconds, I found myself staring at Tommy, sitting alone at his table across the room. He pulled a sandwich from a brown paper bag, unwrapped it, and took a bite.
“Why don’t you go talk to him already?” Roz asked, in an exasperated tone.
“What are you talking about?”
“Duh, your eyes glued to Tommy, yet again.”
I didn’t see the point of denying it. Instead, I smiled. “Have you seen his eyes? They’re incredible.”
“Yeah. I met him, remember?”
“Aren’t they the most beautiful green you’ve ever seen?”
She didn’t respond but rolled her eyes and continued to eat.
“And then when he was running in the park…” I sighed. Glancing back at his table I could’ve sworn he was laughing, but he brought his napkin to his face too quickly for me to be certain.
“Em, you obviously like
him. Why don’t you ask him to sit with us?”
“Don’t be crazy. Why would he want to sit with us?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because he keeps staring at you?”
“He is not.” I noticed him smile to himself while he finished his lunch. He was busy gathering his things together, so it startled me when he suddenly stared right at me. His smile widened into a warm grin. I blushed. Damn, caught again.
“You see? You two are hopeless.”
I watched him walk out of the lunchroom. Where’s he going?
“You should ask him out already.”
“Shut up.” I took two bites of my food before I remembered I had a paper due and wanted to check out a book during lunch. I wolfed down the rest of my food and stood, nearly tripping on the bench as I disentangled myself from the lunch table.
“Where are you off to?”
“Gotta make a stop before lunch is over. See you in gym.”
The school library was so large it had its own map. I actually got lost in there twice freshman year. It took me a second to reorient myself and remember where the nonfiction section was located. Focused on the section placards hanging from the ceiling, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. And of course, the one person in the entire school for me to bump into…
Tommy stumbled back, and the book in his hands fell to the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. Standing next to Tommy, I noticed I was almost a foot shorter.
“No, it’s my fault. I was reading,” he said as he reached down to pick up his book, a horror novel from one of my favorite authors.
The heat ignited within me, flushing my cheeks. Then it spread throughout my whole body. What is going on? I’m not old enough to have hot flashes.
“God, you’re so hot.”
Did he say what I think he said? The library started to spin. Please don’t pass out, please don’t pass out…
“I…I mean your temperature,” he explained, and then smiled coyly afterwards. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine. Sorry,” I mumbled, before slinking away from him.
“It’s all right,” I thought he said. But I wasn’t about to stop. I’d never been so embarrassed in my entire life. He must think I’m a total idiot.
* * * *
The hot weather let up, and the eighty-degree temperature resulted in gym being held outdoors. I sighed in relief at discovering it was track. Running required little coordination or talent. I figured I could muddle through it without incident.
Roz and I walked out together to the track, which passed by the school parking lot. I glanced at the cars and laughed.
“What?” Roz said.
“There must be twenty red cars,” I said, pointing to the lot. “So much for that idea.”
Roz half-smiled. “I guess red’s pretty popular.”
We had almost made it to the track when a sudden breeze passed by us. It was Tommy, running past everyone so fast he was practically a blur. He reached the track, and I was amazed at how happy he seemed, downright blissful. I snickered. Hard to imagine actually enjoying gym class.
Roz paced with me, discussing her weekend plans to hit the outlet mall. While I listened, I stared at Tommy, running so fast. I looked away for a second, but when I looked back I didn’t see him anymore. Scanning the track, he was nowhere to be found. Was he really moving that fast? Did he leave?
Roz stopped talking and smirked. A thought occurred to me: I bet he’s right next to me, and like a total dweeb, I’m looking everywhere else. I timidly glanced over my right shoulder to see him pacing next to me, grinning.
“Hello again,” he said, before he bolted off so fast, I didn’t have a chance to return the greeting.
“I think he likes you,” Roz teased.
“Is my face as red as I think it is?”
“Yes. So the feeling’s mutual then?”
“Not helping.” I slowed to a walk to calm down. “I bumped into him in the library.”
“Seriously?” She laughed.
“I’m glad you find this hilarious. I made a total fool out of myself.”
“Can’t be that bad if he’s still flirting with you, Em.”
Could she be right? I tried to keep my eyes to myself the rest of the time, but it was hard not to watch him run. The gym teachers called time, and he took an additional lap, sprinting faster than before.
Walking back to the gym, I felt that breeze again when he passed us. He got to the gym doors and flashed a smile at me before he entered.
Maybe he does like me, I thought. The possibility catapulted me into my own happy little world, a world totally oblivious to immediate surroundings. Like the curb approaching. Much to the delight of my fellow students (especially Angel), I tripped and fell.
“Em, are you okay?” Roz asked.
“Yes,” I replied hastily. Why can I not master the simple act of walking today? I caught sight of my knee and noticed a sizeable scrape.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, he didn’t see you,” Roz consoled.
A familiar voice sounded, too close to me. “Are you okay?”
I reluctantly looked up, wanting to die. Sure enough, Tommy stood at my other side.
“I’m fine.” I touched my injured knee and felt a surge of heat.
“Took a nice spill there,” he said, as he glanced down at my leg. “Sure you’re all right?”
No, I’m not all right. I wish I could disappear. “I’m fine,” I repeated. Making my way to my feet, I brushed myself off in a futile attempt to save face. The scrape began to bleed a little, and it burned. Avoiding Tommy entirely, I joined Roz and walked carefully back to the locker room.
I sat down on one of the cold wooden benches and sighed. Could this day get any worse? Eyeing my injury, I touched it tentatively and the heat was still there. I relaxed my hand over the scrape and it tingled. The warmth felt good, and I closed my eyes. That rich purple color appeared again, spiraling around in small circles. When the tingling subsided, I slowly lifted my hand from my knee. Not only was the pain gone, but all signs of the scrape had vanished, a few droplets of blood on my hand the sole proof it was ever there. My jaw dropped as I leaned towards my knee, not believing my own eyes.
How is that possible?
In trying to inspect my knee I lost my balance, slipping right off the bench and onto the hard tile floor of the locker room. Angel and her pack started laughing at me again, but I didn’t care. I ran my hand over the skin and couldn’t feel even a trace of the wound. It was bleeding, wasn’t it? Am I losing my mind?
I caught up to Roz on the way out. “You won’t believe what happened!”
“What?”
I was about to launch into the full story but then I stopped. What did happen? I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. Roz was the one friend I had in this crappy place. The last thing I needed was for her to think I was a freak, too.
“No, I meant, do you believe what happened? Me falling down, and Tommy right there?” I laughed nervously. “I felt so stupid.”
Roz smiled. “I’m sure he knows you were checking him out again. That boy would have to be blind not to see how much you’re into him.”
“Come on, I’m not that obvious.” I let her tease me about Tommy all the way to my next class, relieved she bought what I said.
* * * *
Math class had a sucky quiz that took forever to finish. It ranked right up there with English in terms of overall lameness. But that was because I found math about as frustrating as picking popcorn kernels out of my teeth with my tongue. My teacher was actually pretty cool. She happened to touch my hand when I turned in my paper.
“You’re burning up,” she exclaimed. “You must have a fever. Go to the nurse.”
I cocked an eyebrow but didn’t argue. How would I explain it? I got the hall pass and headed out. The nurse was nice enough the other day. Might as well hang out with her.
“Hello, Emily. How nice to see you again,” Judy said when I entered
, her eyes focused on her paperwork. “Are your hands bothering you?”
The fact she knew it was me without looking was strange enough, but to know it was because of my hands, that was unbelievable. “How did you know?”
“I know this is a difficult time for you.” She turned her gaze to me. “You may have noticed some…changes lately.”
Lady, you have no idea.
“Everything you’re going through, it’s natural.”
God, she’s talking about my period. I knew I was on the verge of hearing the flower metaphor. Getting my period was a piece of cake compared to what’s been happening lately. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“The most important thing, what you need to understand is there are no coincidences, no accidents. Everything happens for a reason.”
My brow furrowed. It was the second time I’d heard the phrase, and I started to wonder if she wasn’t conspiring with Roz on some elaborate practical joke. So me making an ass of myself repeatedly today was not only predestined, but meaningful?
“You have to learn to trust yourself, Emily.” She gently touched my shoulder and smiled.
My lips parted in shock at the significant heat from her hand—it managed to heat my entire shoulder, before it spread downward into my body. What is she doing to me? I almost edged away from her before I caught myself. Calm down, Em. I took a deep breath and exhaled. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it was kinda like the sensation at gym: heat and tingling. Can it be… Is it possible? Is she like me?
“It’s a gift, not a curse,” she whispered.
What did that mean? Before I had a chance to ask, we were interrupted by someone else entering the office. When I noticed who it was, my gaze fell to the floor.
“How’s the knee?” Tommy asked.
Thank God I wore jeans. “It’s fine,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.
“Oh, have the two of you met?” Judy asked.
“Not officially,” Tommy said.
“Emily, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is Emily,” Judy said.
I greeted him in a barely audible voice, quivering in nervousness.
“Hi,” he said. “So are you going to answer my question? From English?”