Connected: Book 1 Connected Series Page 7

  “Yeah,” Roz said nervously, apparently worried about the same thing.

  “Anyway, I’m so glad I ran into you.” He paused for a moment, gazing into her eyes and smiling. I knew I was about to hear her standard rejection. But then he continued, “I can’t find my notes for the homework from last night. Do you know what we were supposed to do?”

  “All of page forty-two,” she said. “Got time to get it done?”

  He snickered. “What do you think English class is for?” He caught a glimpse of me as he turned to leave, and a startled look of recognition swept across his face for a split-second. He flashed a nervous smile and waved, and then ran off in the opposite direction.

  I turned to Roz, smiling. Her defensive stance confirmed she knew what I was going to say next.

  “He’s only a friend, Em,” she said.

  “Not if it were up to him.”

  “No, he knows we’re friends.”

  “Sure he does,” I said. “And I’m sure he has a very open definition of the word, ‘friend.’”

  She rolled her eyes at me.

  “Honestly, though,” I began, “don’t you think it’s strange he happened to be out in the hall at this exact moment? The bell’s about to ring.”

  “It’s only a coincidence,” she said, but then avoided my eyes. She shrugged nonchalantly. “He was probably late getting to school.”

  “You don’t think maybe he’s stalking you?”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to class now.”

  “You watch. First you’ll get flowers, next body parts.”

  * * * *

  I got to lunch earlier than usual and was happily surprised to see Tommy already waiting at our table. I sat down across from him.

  “Hi.”

  “So are you ever going to tell me that thought of yours?” he said. “From the first day in the park?”

  “Not again,” I groaned.

  “Tell me,” he said playfully.

  Think fast—I was at the park, with the ducks—that’s it. “I was talking about the ducks.”

  “Come on.” He grinned. “That doesn’t make any sense, Em.”

  God, I love the way he says my name. I smiled like an idiot.

  “Talk,” he said. “The truth this time.”

  “I meant you,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Any chance I had with you.”

  “Guess it lasted longer than you thought.” His hair crowded forward, obstructing his view. He raked his fingers through it.

  I watched his hair fall back and wondered what it would feel like to touch it. To touch his face, to kiss his lips…

  “What’s up?” Roz said.

  “Nothing,” I answered, a little too quickly.

  “Looks like you’re doing better,” Tommy said to Roz.

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “Your hand,” he said. “You injured it this morning, right?”

  How did he know that? He wasn’t even there. Was he?

  “Oh, yeah,” Roz replied. “I, uh, slammed it in my locker door.”

  “It was a cut,” Tommy said. “I saw it bleeding.”

  How could he have seen that? He was halfway down the hall when—

  “I don’t even see a scab. What happened?” Tommy looked at Roz, then at me.

  Roz hid the hand I’d healed under her other one. My gaze fell to the floor, avoiding his.

  “Let me guess… Em had something to do with it,” he said.

  I knew he was staring at me. Somehow, I mustered the courage to look up. His eyes were curious, but demanding. I got the feeling he wouldn’t let it drop.

  “Tommy, I don’t know what you think you saw, but—” Roz said.

  “I know what I saw,” he said, not taking his eyes off me for one second.

  Oh my God. What do I do now? He can’t find out about me.

  “Just because—” Roz started.

  “Fine, you don’t have to tell me,” Tommy said, breaking his gaze from me at last. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Safe for now, I thought. But how long?

  * * * *

  Roz agreed to be my guinea pig after school so I could learn how to heal. Judy welcomed us in to her office and motioned to a bed. Then she pulled up two chairs, one for her and one for me, while Roz lay down.

  “I guess by now you’ve probably figured out what fuels the healing,” Judy said to me.

  I hadn’t thought about it. I was still coming to terms with being a healer.

  “Love,” she said. “All the love in your heart, when you’re healing, is redirected out through your hands.”

  Her new age banter was actually starting to grow on me. It sounded kinda nice. Roz cocked an eyebrow from the bed, and her eyes revealed more than a little skepticism.

  Judy situated herself on her chair and motioned for me to sit in mine. “Thinking about the love you have for another, or even being around someone in need of healing is enough to activate the heat.”

  I remembered the first day of school, in English class: my hands got crazy hot and sweated out of control. It finally made sense—I recalled overhearing Zoe’s conversation after class, and learning how sad she felt.

  “Do your hands feel hot now?” Judy asked.

  I crossed my arms and noted the temperature. “Yes, they’re very hot.”

  “So now to treat someone, you simply continue to feel the love and visualize the person you’re treating as happy and healthy. Try it with Roz.”

  I rested my hands down on Roz’s head.

  “Em, your hands are on fire!” Roz said, her eyes large.

  “Is it okay, should I stop?”

  “No, it’s nice,” Roz said, closing her eyes. She yawned. “Soothing.”

  “It also helps to take regular deep breaths,” Judy added. “Being totally relaxed yourself makes it easier to connect with the person, and the healing will flow more naturally.”

  I didn’t know why, but her words seemed familiar. With her guidance, I activated the energy faster and experienced the connection quicker. Roz took a deep breath right before her body completely relaxed beneath my hands.

  Judy positioned her hands in the air two inches above Roz’s body, starting at her head then moving slowly downward. “This is called scanning,” she explained. “You feel where the pain is by moving your hands either above or directly on the person’s body, and noting which areas are hotter than others. Why don’t you give it a try?”

  I switched positions with Judy and performed the scan. There was more heat by her upper right arm. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a bruise. I placed my hands on it and the heat intensified.

  Judy smiled. “Very good, Em. I felt that too. I was hoping you would find it.”

  The heat died down. I lifted my hands and the bruise was gone.

  Then Judy lifted her hands from Roz’s head. It took Roz a minute to open her eyes, sit up, and become fully conscious. I rubbed my face, trying to get back to reality myself.

  Judy wore a proud grin. “That was a great first session, Emily. And your power will only grow stronger with time and practice.” She turned to Roz. “How do you feel?”

  “Incredible. It was weird, there was so much heat.” She glanced down at her arm. “I bumped it the other day, but now the bruise is gone. That’s...”

  For the first time ever, Roz seemed at a loss for words.

  “Roz, you all right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, just a little out of it.” She managed a sleepy smile. “This whole thing, feeling that heat and energy… It’s a lot to process, you know?”

  I looked down, concerned I freaked her out. Maybe it was too soon, practicing on her.

  “But it’s all good,” she said, touching my shoulder. Her light brown eyes were so peaceful—it was as if I could feel the gratitude emanating from her. “I mean, it’s amazing, I feel so…like…amazing.”

  I giggled at her dazed state. She’d always been the one with the great vocabulary. That, m
ore than anything she could say, was proof the healing was effective.

  “Thank you.” Roz clasped her hands together and bowed towards me.

  I laughed and hugged her affectionately. Judy smiled at us, and as freakish as the whole experience had been, I got the feeling it was right, like this was exactly what I should be doing, exactly where I should be.

  * * * *

  At the park, I noticed the ducks had congregated around a group of people on the other side of the pond. Sitting alone on the bench and waiting, my hands started to sweat. I closed my eyes for a moment to relax, when I heard his voice.

  “Hi there.” I opened my eyes to find him sitting next to me, closer than last time. “Little dangerous to sleep around here, don’t ya think?”

  I smiled. “No geese around to be afraid of.”

  “Good. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”

  “Look.” I showed him my leg. “No permanent damage.”

  “That’s good to see. Though I guess with you I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  Not knowing how to respond, I laughed nervously like a total dork.

  He turned in towards me and, to my horror, stared at me.

  I immediately looked down, wondering what was going on. Is there something on my face? Do I have food stuck in my teeth? I slid my tongue over my teeth but didn’t feel anything. “What? Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong.” He broke his gaze. “I’m trying to figure out what’s different about you.”

  “Different?”

  “From the moment I first saw you… I still don’t know what it is, and I thought I could figure it out if I looked hard enough.” He raked his hair back with his fingers. “Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.”

  “I’m not freaked out. I’m confused. Me, I’m as ordinary as they come.”

  “No,” he answered, more seriously than I expected. “You are wrong about that.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. “I think you’re confused.”

  “Really?” He folded his arms against his chest. “So everyone can make scrapes and cuts disappear?”

  My breathing stopped for a second. Then I blurted out, “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He laughed as he relaxed his arms and leaned in a little closer. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a horrible liar?”

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “I saw the cut, Em. And the scrape, in gym.”

  Does he know my secret? Breathe, stay calm. “What about you? You think everyone can hear and see like you?”

  He smiled. “I know I’m different.”

  Was that an admission? I turned in towards him, and his smile widened into a warm grin.

  “It’s not so bad, you know,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Being different. Normal’s kinda boring.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, guess so.”

  He stood and extended a hand to me. “Walk with me.”

  My hands were still gross, practically dripping in sweat. I grabbed my bread bag instead of accepting his assistance, and stood. His brow furrowed.

  Damn, did I offend him? I enclosed both hands around the bread bag, as if that would make it better somehow. It didn’t matter why—hot, sweaty hands were disgusting. No getting around it.

  “What did the bread do?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re torturing it,” he said, pointing at my bread bag. I gripped it so tightly, the bread inside was all twisted and mangled.

  “Oh.” I blushed, releasing my stranglehold.

  “Do you want me to carry it? Might be safer for the bread.” The innocent smile he wore, though super cute, didn’t help my embarrassment.

  “It’s fine.” There was an awkward silence for a moment, right when we started to walk. Say something. Anything to move past the strange guilt I was feeling. “So what else do you like to do besides running and hunting?”

  “I like to read and watch movies.”

  “What’s your favorite book?”

  “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” he said.

  “I love that book,” I said and then added, “I’m also a huge Clive Barker fan.”

  “He’s pretty intense. I love his movies.”

  “Yeah, they’re cool,” I agreed. “I have a secret love of B-horror movies too. Roz gives me hell about it all the time.”

  “No, seriously?” He grinned. “I watch those movies with my father.”

  “Anything with Bruce Campbell is an instant classic.” I pushed a few strands of hair behind my ear.

  “You’re the first girl I’ve met who’s even heard of him.”

  “I watch a lot of movies,” I said.

  We walked for a while more, discussing various books and movies we liked. Then he glanced down at his watch.

  “It’s getting late—I have to get back. Got a ton of stuff to do at the shop.”

  “The shop?”

  “My family owns a gas station and repair shop,” he explained. “But I have time to drive you home, if you want.”

  “You drove here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, my car’s parked over there,” he said, motioning to the adjacent parking lot.

  The car was at least thirty years old, an old Nova, just a tank of a car. The paint was dilapidated, its body flawed, but it seemed functional, like the kind of car that could run forever if you knew how to fix it.

  “It’s…interesting,” I said.

  He smiled. “Yeah, that’s a good word for it.” He walked me around to the passenger side and opened the door for me before getting in himself and performing the elaborate steps of starting the old manual transmission car. The ease with which he went through the motions amazed me, as if driving were second nature to him.

  I did the math in my head and came to the conclusion he must be a year older than I was, or at least a few months, depending on his birthday. Regardless, he should’ve been in the class before me. Was he held back for some reason?

  “Got your permit yet?” he asked.

  “No. I still have a few months before I can. Plus I wasn’t able to take the stupid driver’s ed course over the summer. Now I have to wait ’til they offer it again in the spring.”

  “I’ll show you how to drive, if you want.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “I think I would be afraid to drive if I learned in this car.”

  “Look at it this way, if you can drive this car, you can drive anything.”

  I considered how much more fun it would be to learn from him as opposed to some crusty old gym teacher. “I may take you up on that offer.”

  “Anytime.” His effortless smile had a way of immediately putting me at ease.

  The drive to my house was way too short. “This is it,” I said.

  He peered out his window, looking around as if he were a tourist in another country. “How very…suburban.”

  “Is that an insult? I can’t tell.”

  He laughed. “No. You’ll get it when you see my house.”

  I wondered when that would happen. But I took his response to be a good sign, and I didn’t want to rely on a chance encounter at the park to see him again. I remembered a commercial for an old horror movie, a classic I was sure he’d know. Should I ask him to watch it with me?

  My heart began to pound as I formed the words in my head. “You know I, uh…I think they’re playing The Evil Dead next week on cable.”

  His eyes widened. “Em, are you asking me on a date?”

  “No, I thought…if you were going to watch it anyway, and I was going to watch it, then maybe we could… I mean, I have a fairly large TV, and…” I trailed off, realizing I was rambling.

  Tommy sat there with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

  Oh my God, did I totally misread him? Does he only want to be friends? What was I thinking? My breathing quickened almost to the point of hyperventilation. “I’m sorry, forget I said—”

 
; “No, it’s… You’re making this so easy on me. I figured I’d have to ask you out.” He smiled. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” I practically gasped.

  “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

  I was relieved at first, and then panicked at his choice of words. “It’s only a movie,” I muttered.

  “Only a movie? We’re talking vintage Campbell. In his prime.”

  I laughed. “Definitely one of my faves.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “Guess I gotta go now,” I said. I tried the handle but the stupid thing kept sticking.

  “Oh, let me,” Tommy said. “That door has issues.”

  He got out and opened the door for me.

  “Uh, thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem.”

  I waved goodbye to him at the top of the stairs. He drove off, and as he turned the corner, I said, “I had a good time.”

  “Who’s the boy?”

  I jumped at the sound of Lauren’s voice. “What do you want?”

  “Who’s the boy you were with?” she repeated, more slowly. Her eyes searched mine, as if she were trying to discern the answer from them.

  The question finally sunk in. “Were you spying on me?”

  “No. I just noticed you outside with a boy.” She rested her hands on her hips, clearly still expecting an answer.

  I glared at her. “He’s in one of my classes.”

  “He looked like more than a study partner.” She picked a stray thread from my shirt. “And he drives? What is he, seventeen?”

  “Stay out of my business.” I walked past her.

  She followed me. “When are we going to meet him?”

  “We were only talking.”

  “Yeah, that was definitely more than conversation.” She wore a smug grin I wanted to slap off her face.

  “You were spying on me. Stay out of my life!” I stomped away to my room.

  She yelled after me, “You should bring him by the house so we can meet him.”

  I slammed my bedroom door, furious at my sister.

  * * * *

  After practically inhaling my dinner, I left for Roz’s. She and Dad were finishing their meal. Roz had to do the dishes afterwards, so I followed her to the kitchen to help. Still pissed at my psychotic sister, I vented to her about it. Roz was always good for commiserating with me, even though she had no clue, being an only child. Once I got Lauren out of my system, I remembered the encounter with Scott.