The Mind Readers Page 2

  Depressed, I barely listened to her happy chatter as we made our way up the rickety steps to the front porch. Emily was so caught up in her own conversation, she didn’t even notice the gray rat scurry across the steps. Every time we came to the diner, I was amazed it was still open. I’d expected the Health Department to shut the place down long ago. But if they shut it down, we’d have no place to go and that’s why the city left it alone.

  “Hey! Cameron, I need to talk to you.” Annabeth came rushing across the deck where she’d been serving drinks to students brave enough to sit outside in the wind. She stuffed a couple dollars into the apron tied around her thick waist. Her pink sweater clashed with her red hair, and she’d never exactly been called gorgeous. Still, she was friendly and had soft brown eyes and a wide smile that always made me want to smile back. I liked her the moment we’d met in fifth grade. I’d been a new student and she’d been the first to talk to me. For that, I’d always be grateful.

  “I’ll wait for you over there.” Emily hated Annabeth, not because she didn’t think Annabeth was popular or pretty enough. Nope, Emily was jealous because she didn’t like the fact that I spent time with someone other than her. She was also jealous that Annabeth was a genius at math and science while Emily could barely pass. I’d tried to explain this to Annabeth, but Annabeth couldn’t possibly believe the most popular girl in school would be jealous of her. Of course I couldn’t tell her that I knew it for a fact.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  We leaned against the railing; I huddled deep within my jacket. The sun was setting, sending brilliant reds and oranges shimmering across the waves. When the sun set, the temperature dropped fast and I was eager to get a booth inside.

  “I’ve met someone.”

  I snapped my gaze toward her, more than surprised. As far as I knew, Annabeth had never dated anyone. “Who?”

  George Miller she thought right before she said the words. “George Miller.” A man popped into her mind, an image she’d conjured. Tall and thin, with dark hair, brown eyes…actually kind of cute, but older than her. Definitely older and she was nervous that he was older. She didn’t want anyone to know.

  “How old,” I blurted out before I thought better.

  Her round face grew red and I knew she was wondering why I’d brought up the topic. Frantically, she tried to decide what to tell me, I could almost taste her nervousness. Twenty-five. “Twenty,” she squeaked.

  You’d be surprised how many people lie and how often. It was common, but still, it annoyed me because we were friends. I nodded slowly, wondering if I should call her out on her lie. Even a person without my abilities could tell she was fibbing. But I could sense Emily’s impatience from across the porch. She was about ready to interrupt and that would hurt Annabeth’s feelings.

  “That’s cool,” I said.

  She grinned, relieved I didn’t question her further or focus on his age. “Yeah, gotta work, but do you want to meet him? He’s inside.”

  No! I nodded. Not really. What creepy twenty-five year old would go out with someone who wasn’t even seventeen yet? “Yeah, sure. In a bit.”

  She briefly clasped my hands, her fingers cold. “Okay great! See you in a minute.”

  “Can’t wait,” I lied.

  I watched her as she walked inside. Annabeth was only sixteen and looked even younger. Her mom would freak if she knew her daughter was dating someone nine years older. I didn’t mean to be rude, but what would a man twenty-five years old want with Annabeth? Something was off and I was definitely worried.

  “What’d she want?” Emily muttered bitterly as she came to stand next to me.

  “Nothing.” I sure as heck wasn’t going to tell Emily so she could mock Annabeth.

  “Hey, ladies, what’s up?” Trevor strolled out the door, that arrogant smirk on his face that only the captain of the hockey team could get away with. He leaned over to kiss Emily. What an idiot, he actually thought he could juggle two women and they wouldn’t find out. Okay, so maybe my opinion of Trevor was influenced by the fact that he thought my breasts were too small for his liking. Although I’m happy to report he’d still “do me,” as he’d thought the other day. As if he’d ever have the chance.

  With a huff, Emily turned her head to the side. She was playing hard to get. She wanted him to beg and plead. I rolled my eyes. This could get nauseating real fast.

  “What did I do now?” he asked with a sigh.

  She snapped her head toward him. “Where were you last night?” She placed her hands on her hips; she meant business. “I called you, I text’d.”

  He averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. “With the guys.”

  Allow me to translate. With his other girlfriend.

  “Playing video games in the basement.”

  Making out.

  He smiled his charming smile, those blue eyes twinkling. “You know I don’t get reception down there.”

  He’d turned off his phone.

  With a sigh, I spun around, giving them the privacy they didn’t seem to care about since they were arguing in the middle of the front porch. I didn’t have to read minds to know this wasn’t going to end well and then I’d have to pick up the pieces until Emily got a new boyfriend, which shouldn’t be long. A boyfriend who would most likely be Kevin. I felt sick.

  Taking in a deep breath of chilly air, I gazed out over the ocean, attempting to calm my racing heart. You’d think a person who could read minds would be able to get a boyfriend. It’s not like I was totally disgusting, but I knew some people thought I was weird; quiet, standoffish and I knew a little too much.

  “What do you mean you don’t believe me?” Trevor demanded, his voice rising with anger and panic.

  I rolled my eyes. They’d had the same fight at least once a week for the past three months. I seriously didn’t understand why some people dated and honestly I didn’t think they really understood either.

  “Of course I don’t….” She paused for one long moment. “What’s that?” Emily was looking toward the shore where a piece of drift wood lay upon the gritty sand.

  “Just driftwood,” I said.

  She moved toward the steps, only to hesitate. “No, there’s something else…”

  I narrowed my eyes and leaned over the railing, trying to get a better view. She was right, there was something there just behind the drift wood. I stepped closer to her. Near the shore lay a bundle. Something…I couldn’t quite see in the fading light. I moved off the steps, Emily following.

  “Em,” Trevor whined, he wasn’t used to people just walking away from him.

  I resisted the urge to tell him to shut up. It was most likely garbage, but I’d do anything to get out of listening to their fight. If Emily thought it was something great, like buried treasure, I’d follow along.

  “Oh my God, Cameron, what is it?” Her fingers bit into my upper arm.

  I shrugged off her tight grip. Emily was way too dramatic. Usually it was amusing but right now annoying. “It’s nothing. Probably…”

  What was it? Something pale and narrow. The closer we got, the more our footsteps slowed as the odd sense of foreboding tingled through my body. Turn back! My instincts screamed, but I couldn’t seem to stop my feet from crunching through the sand.

  Something was sticking out of the bundle…something pale, narrow…a leg. The fine hairs on my arms stood on end. A gray leg covered in dirt with brown seaweed wrapped around the calf. Sickening dread sank into the pit of my belly. I knew what it was, I knew what lay there, what horrors life was capable of.

  Numb, I barely felt my body as I moved around the driftwood; was barely aware of Emily clutching my arm once again. It was like I wasn’t even there, but watching a television show. A green wool blanket covered the body. But from that blanket her head was visible; long blonde hair matted with seaweed and sand. I froze, Emily pausing beside me. My body started trembling… shocking, violent trembles I couldn’t control.

  Her pale eye
s were wide open, staring unblinkingly at me. A familiar face. Now a ghastly face that would give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

  I was aware of Emily screaming, but the high-pitched noise barely registered.

  Savannah.

  A girl who had moved to our town only a year ago. A sweet, southern girl, although I didn’t know her well. Now, a dead girl.

  I staggered back into Emily’s warm, living body. My stomach roiled, the scenery before me going blurry. The scent of ocean and fish was too much. Acid rose to my throat and I knew I was going to be sick.

  I was vaguely aware of people rushing from the diner, the panic of their jumbled thoughts mixed and clambered around in my head. Too much, too many thoughts. My brain ached; my skull felt as if it would burst open. I pressed my hands to my temples and stumbled back.

  “What is it?” Trevor asked.

  Someone pushed me aside and I spun around. A blur of people rushed by, blocking Savannah from view. Still, I merely stood there, jostled back and forth by curious students.

  “Oh my God,” I heard Emily cry, “is she dead?”

  I killed her.

  The foreign voice whispered through my head. A voice I didn’t recognize. I jerked my gaze upright. No one was looking at me… ten, fifteen faces pale in horror, focused on that body. But someone had said the words. I hadn’t imagined them.

  I killed her.

  My heart jumped into my throat, my hands growing clammy. With a muffled cry, I spun around, studying the faces behind me. No one was smiling with accomplishment. More people were spilling from the diner, at least five kids were on their cells phones talking desperately to the police.

  “Excuse me.” I pushed my way between the horrified group of gawking people.

  I killed her.

  I froze in the middle of the crush, a shiver- hot and cold- skimming my body. A male voice. Who? I turned, jerking my head this way and that. I knew them all, some better than others, but this voice was unfamiliar. Who, here, would be capable of murder? The girl in front of me shifted, trying to get a better look. Behind her, near the parking lot, stood a stranger.

  My heart thumped madly, almost painfully, against my rib cage. Dark hair, but I couldn’t see his eye color. Tall, average build. Dressed in tan slacks and a long, black coat. As if sensing my attention, his gaze met mine.

  I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped behind Trevor like the coward I was. Had the stranger killed Savannah? Had he thought the words? Unable to resist, I peeked around Trevor.

  The boy was gone.

  Chapter 3

  “It was horrifying,” Emily said, her lower lip quivering for extra emphasis. I didn’t understand why she made fun of the drama club when she could out act them all. Really, the girl could be in movies. “I actually found her body.”

  “Totally disgusting,” Sarah whispered, resting her arm around Emily’s shoulder in a show of compassion. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt.”

  I couldn’t believe I had to stand there and listen to this crap. I let Emily get away with a lot because deep down, I knew she was insecure and like most people, she felt unloved. But this was too much.

  Annoyed, I slammed my locker door shut, but they barely noticed, Emily too intent on being the center of attention. As if she didn’t have enough already, she had to take it from a dead girl. This was too far. Someone had died. Been murdered. How dare she use Savannah’s death for her own gain. Without waiting for her like I usually did, I started down the hall.

  “Cam,” Emily snapped, annoyed I wasn’t hanging on her every word, nodding my agreement with her half-truths.

  Sure, I’d put up with a lot of crap from Emily, but this I couldn’t deal with. There was some sick psycho out there who had killed Savannah and, once again, Emily was acting like everything revolved around her. I had barely slept all weekend, but Emily looked like she’d just had a visit to the spa.

  “Cam, wait up.” Her high heels clicked against the linoleum. This was Maine, for God’s sake, not Beverly Hills 90210. People didn’t wear heels to school, but Emily did. She was panting as she reached my side. “What’s your problem?”

  Problem? I had so many I wasn’t sure which to focus on. Might as well be her. “I just think it’s sick that everyone’s discussing what happened like it’s the weekly gossip.” And by everyone, I meant her.

  “We’re scared, Cam. It could have been anyone of us.” Her gaze darted around the hallway and she shuddered dramatically. “It could have been me.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, and we were back to her.

  The bell rang, warning that first period would soon start. Ignoring Emily, I walked into homeroom and continued toward the back of the class. We didn’t dare sit in the front because apparently when you’re popular, you never sit at the front of the class. So many ridiculous rules. They’d never bothered me before, but today I was worried and tired. Emily sat on one side while Kevin sat on the other. I used to think it was the perfect spot, between the two of them.

  Even now I couldn’t help but watch Kevin make his way toward me, those blue-green eyes smiling, that blond hair fashionably messy. He was gorgeous, and I was totally in love with him even though the guy spent 95% of his time thinking about his abs and biceps. Seriously, I didn’t know a single girl who worried about her body more than Kevin worried about his. But he was athletic, funny and nice. Which was so uncommon within our group that I couldn’t help but like him. Add that to the fact that he thought I was pretty and he was nearly perfect.

  Still, the thought of spending the rest of my life listening to him worry about his abs and biceps had me second guessing marriage. But then again, most people’s thoughts were annoying. Insecurities, depressing anxiety…thoughts of turmoil. Sometimes they drove me insane with their constant self-involved mind-chatter.

  I rested my elbows on my desk and my head in my hands.

  “I mean seriously, it’s weird you don’t want to talk about it,” Emily said. She was angry with me because I’d made her feel stupid and guilty. Well, she should feel guilty, but it wouldn’t last. Like always, she was trying to place the blame on me and usually I’d silently accepted it. Not today. How badly I wanted to tell her to go screw herself.

  “I mean what is your problem anyway?” she snapped. “Does this have to do with Kevin?”

  “Shhh!” I hissed, and jerked my head upright. Too much. She’d crossed a line by trying to embarrass me and I knew that’s what she was attempting to do. She’d said the one thing she knew would get a response.

  I slid Kevin a glance. Thank God he was talking to someone else and hadn’t noticed our conversation.

  “If you’re jealous, I won’t go out with him.” She was silent for one long moment, wondering if I’d get mad if she asked to switch seats with me. She didn’t have to say it, I already knew…Kevin had asked her out and she’d already said yes.

  Unbelievable! Her father was having a long-running affair with his coworker. A secret Emily knew, if not Emily’s mom. If anyone should have understood that it was wrong to steal a boy from another girl, it should have been Emily, my supposed best friend.

  “Whatever,” I said softly, resting my face in my hands and staring at the faux wood of my desktop.

  She huffed and turned her back to me, talking to Sarah, who sat beside her. I didn’t care. At the moment, I didn’t care if Emily and I were no longer friends and my status would plummet to that of the girls who were friends with the teachers. I didn’t care if no one asked me to prom. I didn’t even care if Kevin and Emily got married and had five freaking kids. What did it matter when there was a murderer stalking the town?

  Yeah, most people had some pretty horrifying and scary thoughts at times, but hardly anyone ever acted those out. Violence was pretty uncommon in our town. The police were trying to connect the murder with the shooting at the café, but I knew better.

  “Good morning children,” Mr. Banks swept into the room, his briefcase in hand, his cat on his mi
nd. Fluffy hadn’t been eating. “Open your books to page fifty-five.”

  Only last week Savannah had told me she was going to try out for the soccer team. I’d encouraged her to. She was nervous, but I said I’d help. According to the news report she was going to her friend’s for the weekend. But she’d lied and probably met up with some guy. The guy who’d killed her. The guy whose voice I’d heard.

  The stranger from the parking lot flashed to mind. That brown hair had an ever so slight curl, tousled by the ocean breeze. His gorgeous face had been dour, like he was worried. Worried he’d be caught? Was he the murderer? Was he the man whose voice I’d heard?

  I shivered, hunkering down into my sweatshirt. If it wasn’t the stranger, then it could be anyone. I wasn’t used to not knowing. I couldn’t stand the suspense. Irritated, I flipped open my book, pretending interest in the Civil War. Most people were whispering to each other about Savannah’s death. People who’d barely paid attention to her before.

  The useless chatter sometimes got to me. But I tried to have patience; people talked to either ease their worries or get to know each other. I rarely asked questions and not because I was shy like most people thought, but because I didn’t need to learn. I already knew every little secret about everyone. Some secrets I wished to God I didn’t know…things that would make you gag, things that would make you cry.

  We’d had to move a lot when I was younger, before I’d learned to keep my mouth shut. I’d say something inappropriate and people would become suspicious. Grandma would pack the car and we’d move to another state, another city. Since I so badly wanted a home and friends, I’d learned quickly to keep all thoughts to myself for my own sake. But Grandma had another reason why she’d wanted me to keep silent. When I was old enough, Grandma had told me the truth. People like us didn’t last long, they had the habit of disappearing.

  But it didn’t mean those thoughts I heard were ignored. I could ignore them as much as I could ignore my own thoughts. Sitting there in the classroom it was like I was the center of a bike wheel. Every spoke led to a student; their thoughts vibrating along that wire to me. Usually I could focus on each thought individually and pinpoint the person. Unless the thoughts were too fast and emotional, as they’d been at the beach the evening we’d found Savannah. If only I’d tried harder to focus.