Authors: Mattie Dunman
“Alright, honey. Relax. I’ll stop trying to read you.” I glanced up involuntarily and then dropped my eyes again. She was watching me with an amused smile. “I know you don’t want to be touched, so I need you to tell me if you’re hurting anywhere else.”
I drew in my breath with a little jolt of surprise and met her gaze.
“What do you mean, you know I don’t want to be touched?” I demanded, my voice terse with anxiety. She gave me a toothy grin and went over to a cabinet with labeled drawers.
“Nothing, honey. Just that you’ve got a pretty big ‘personal space’ vibe going on. I try not to violate people’s boundaries,” she replied casually as she opened a drawer and rummaged around. Making a little noise of triumph, she extracted two little plastic packages of Tylenol and came back to me, holding them out for me to take. “Here, take two of these now, and then take the rest when you go to bed. You’ll be ok, though you’ll have a bruise.”
I took the pills and watched warily as she opened a cabinet door and extracted a small bottle with clear liquid in it.
“This is Witch Hazel. Take it home with you and put some on tonight before you go to bed. It’ll help with the bruising.” She dabbed some on the side of my face, careful to only touch me with the cotton ball.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, still trying to figure this woman out. Of course, all I had to do was reach out and touch her with an ungloved hand to know all her secrets, but I had avoided doing so for such a long time that it was only a fleeting thought. “Is there a bathroom?”She pointed to a door on the left side of the office and I swiftly crossed the room and closed the door behind me, thankful to escape being alone with her any longer.
I used the facilities and then washed my hands, taking the time to splash my face with cold water and examine my swiftly swelling face. I sighed, wishing not for the first time that I could be more average looking, more forgettable. Instead I was blessed, or cursed, with my mother’s exotic looks. While my father was a tall, skinny redhead with pasty white skin and a slightly overlarge nose, my mother had been beautiful. Like her, I had long, straight dark brown hair, almost black, and olive skin inherited from a Mediterranean grandmother that women spend countless hours and dollars in tanning beds trying to attain. My eyes were my father’s, a moss-colored green that stood out underneath thick lashes no one ever believed were natural. I was tall, around five foot ten, and slim and muscular from years of martial arts training. All in all, I was someone that usually got a second look and, in my position, that was the worst thing to have happen.
I surveyed the damage done to the left side of my face and was satisfied that no blood vessels were broken, so bruising should be minimal. After examining my pupils and deciding I definitely didn’t have a concussion, I straightened my mussed hair and went back out into the office.
The door to the hall crashed open and I heard an “oops” as Carey made his way towards me, ice pack in hand. I gratefully took it from him and held it against my aching head.
“Now, I know it’s your first day, but maybe you should head out early and rest. I can write you a note if you like.” Nurse Nora was back to being blandly concerned now that we weren’t alone and I was relieved. All I could think of was getting home and telling Dad we needed to get the heck out of Dodge.
“Uh, that’s ok. I took the bus, and my dad’s at work, so I wouldn’t have a ride.”
“I can give you a ride home, Liz.” Carey looked down at me with eager kindness. Nurse Nora nodded approvingly.
“No, really, it’s fine. There’s only an hour or so left of school now anyway.” I was edging toward the door, suddenly desperate to be out of the room. There was something very strange about both of these people and I’d already hit my weirdness quota for the day.
Nurse Nora seemed to grasp this because she nodded and shrugged her shoulders. “Alright dear, but don’t forget these.” She pushed the Tylenol and the bottle of Witch Hazel into my hands. I stuffed them in my bag and shuffled to the door. “You can come back if you’re feeling bad and need to lie down. You should have someone keep an eye on you tonight, make sure you’re sleeping normally.”
“Yeah. Sure. I will. Thanks.” She handed me a slip of paper excusing me from class and waved me out. I caught her and Carey exchange a significant look and then he was suddenly beside me, holding the door open with a gallant gesture. I slid through, careful not to bump his arm.
“Well, you’re late for class, but I’ll show you how to get there if you’re sure you don’t want to go on home.” I shook my head, winced, and pressed the ice harder against my temple.
“Actually, is there a quiet place anywhere I could just wait until school’s over?” The thought of going into class with my head pounding like this was daunting.
“Um…yeah. No one is using the darkroom this time of day. I can take you there.” He raised one eyebrow and I nodded, looking forward to just closing my eyes and being alone for a moment.
Without further comment, Carey turned us around and led me back down the hall until we reached a door that looked like it opened to a janitor’s closet. He jiggled the handle and the door cracked open; his decidedly nonchalant expression made me think that the door hadn’t been open to begin with. Crushing down any burgeoning feeling of curiosity, I just followed him into the darkroom and noted gratefully that the shadowy furniture inside the small room included a flat table that must have once held basins for photo developing chemicals but was now bare.
“This is perfect. Thanks,” I mumbled as I stretched out on the table, placing my messenger bag under my head as a pillow. Carey shut the door behind him and we were blanketed in darkness.
“Are you sure you’ll be ok here? Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked quietly. I could feel him standing next to the table and jerked involuntarily as he touched my arm with his warm hand, his little finger brushing the skin of my arm through the hole in the sleeve. He dropped his hand immediately, and out of curiosity I reopened the newly forged connection between our minds, allowing his thoughts to swarm my own.
“What is her deal with touching? There’s something different about her, something strange, like me. I’ve got to get her to talk to me, need to figure it out…”
With effort I broke the connection and returned to my own aching head. I heard Carey give an intake of breath and knew that he had felt me in his mind again. I really had to get away from this guy.
“Did you just….um…”
“Thanks for bringing me here. I’ll be fine now,” I said firmly, interrupting his confused stuttering. He was silent for a moment and I was suddenly super aware that we were alone together in the dark, that I was lying prone on the table and my fingers were itching to touch his soft, thick hair. My heart seemed to be beating absurdly loudly and every breath I took sounded deafening to my ears. Carey was a silent presence, radiating heat at my side.
Finally he spoke and the moment shattered.
“Ok.”
He opened the door and there was a flash of light from the hall; then he was gone and I was alone in the dark. I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed myself to think about Carey and his strange history. When our minds had linked I learned his deepest, most guarded secret: he possessed abilities that would put him on par with Superman, though, thankfully, without the alien heritage.
From what I could tell, Carey possessed abnormal strength and speed, as well as keen vision and hearing. He didn’t know why he had these talents; both his parents were normal, his brother and sister were normal, and there was no apparent family history that could explain his condition. He had never been drenched in nuclear waste, never been around a meteor shower, been hit by lightning, been part of a government experiment, or any other plausible explanation. All he knew was that he was born with certain gifts, and over the years he had honed them and used them to help people in his community while keeping it under-wraps, fearing repercussions if he were found to be different.
I could sympathize with that.
I lay there thinking about Carey and what I had learned from him, the strangeness of Nurse Nora and my certainty that she had her own secrets, my anxiety at being noticed so much on my first day. The quiet, shadowy room was hypnotic and I could feel my thoughts slowing down, becoming less coherent and finally fading as I drifted into a heavy sleep.
“
Oh crap, c’mon, please wake up, please, please..
.”
“ Liz? Liz! Wake up!”
My eyes opened slowly and I blinked, squeezing my eyes shut and opening them again to clear my vision. For a moment I had no idea where I was, but instead of feeling panicky, I thought I must have woken up in a dream, a really good one. A beautiful face hovered over me, glowing slightly in the darkness, angelic features contorted in worry. After a moment my senses came back and I realized it was Carey’s anxious face above me and I could hear his thoughts and his voice, both of which were focused on my persistent unconsciousness.
“Mmm,” I mumbled and tried to sit up, slipping back as my head swam nauseatingly. Carey gave a shaky laugh and slid his hand behind my back, lifting me gently to a sitting position. He kept his arm around me, steadying me, and for once I didn’t flinch or pull away. It felt good, natural, and I realized how long it had been since I had willingly allowed someone other than my Dad to hold me.
“Jeez, are you ok? I’ve been trying to wake you for over a minute. You were really out of it.” Carey asked, his eyes intent on mine.
“Her eyes…they’re amazing… It’s like she’s seeing straight through me…so pretty, with her hair all messed up like that…she feels so good…”
I gently disengaged and sat up straight, shutting off the switch that had opened my mind to his while I slept. Once again, he gave me a startled look that told me he had noticed something and I felt a wild urge to tell him everything, sure that he, of all people, would understand. Instead I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to restore order. The bag of ice had long since melted and lay like a water balloon on the table next to me; my shoulder was damp from the leakage.
“Yeah, I guess I fell asleep. Aw hell, what time is it?” I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to drive out the lingering fatigue.
“It’s after 3:30. You missed the bus.” His voice held a trace of amusement.
“Damn it.” I muttered, trying to think how I would get home now. I really didn’t want to walk; Dad and I lived ten minutes away, and that was travelling by car.
“Yeah, Preston was looking all over for you. He was supposed to help you at the end of the day. I figured you must have fallen asleep so I came to get you.”
“Thanks.” Somehow I wasn’t surprised that he failed to enlighten Preston about my whereabouts.
“Look, I can give you a ride home. It’s no trouble.”
I thought about it a moment and then decided I could hardly get into more trouble than I already had today. “Ok. Thanks. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“No problem. Do you need to go to your locker?” Carey stepped back so I could stand up. I got to my feet and found that I was feeling a lot better. The dizziness had faded and my head was hardly hurting. Apparently my zonked out sleep had done wonders.
“No, I’ll just do it in the morning. Let’s go.” Carey let me precede him out the door into the brightly lit hall. I could hear the sounds of students on their way to after-school activities, planning their weekends, slamming their locker doors and laughing. I walked beside Carey in silence; he was doing some pretty heavy thinking and I repressed the urge to tune in. Apart from it being dangerous to know too much, it was just rude to listen in to other people’s thoughts.
We were at the double doors leading out to the student parking lot when I heard my named shouted angrily.
“LIZ! Where were you? I’ve been looking all over!” I sighed as Preston came huffing up behind us. “Oh. Carey. What are you still doing here?” He swung around in front of us, barring our way to the doors, his floppy blond hair windblown and eyebrows furrowed like little blond caterpillars.
“I’m giving Liz a ride home. She’s not feeling well,” Carey answered, his voice pleasant and light.
“What happened earlier? Were you hurt?” Preston returned his attention to me, belatedly noticing the way the left side of my face was swollen and puffy.
I just recalled that I had been with Preston when I was drawn into the altercation in the hallway. I had completely forgotten about him, and now wondered where he had been, why he hadn’t come to my aid.
“Well, yes, I was. I got knocked down twice and hit in the face.” I was rewarded by his stunned expression.
“Oh man, I didn’t know. The teachers made us all go on to class. I figured you were just lost or something and didn’t make it.” I relented as his cheeks burned red with embarrassment.
“It’s ok. Carey helped me out. By the time I was done in the nurse’s office, I just wanted to take a nap. I overslept and missed the bus.” I was proud of my tactful and succinct description of events, and it was evidently enough for Preston. He shook himself and gave Carey a mistrustful look.
“Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Look, I can take you home.”
I sighed. Here we went again.
“Don’t worry about it, Preston. I got it.” Carey’s tone had an edge to it, and I couldn’t blame him. Preston was so pushy.