SHORTCUTS Read online

  They sat directly under the huge air conditioning vent. The clattering noise and faint stench of mold kept our classmates at a distance, making it a perfect place for private discussions.

  Ethan leaned forward as we sat down. “Just in time to answer a very critical question. Tell me, Parkour”—I secretly loved when he used his old nickname for me— “do I have a chance with Sophie as a date to the dance?”

  Avery slapped the table. “Ethan Jae-Sun Kwon, don’t you dare encourage her. She needs to knock it off.”

  “Don’t listen to Mom over there,” he said. “Breaking the rules now and then won’t hurt anyone. Come on, Parker. It’s for me!”

  “People’s emotions are private.” My tone was prim.

  “That’s not what I heard.” Deshawn finally looked up with a snort, deep brown eyes sparkling with unusual mischief.

  “Heard? Or overheard?” I used air quotes.

  He chuckled. “You’d better believe I was keeping my distance from that cry-fest, but public spaces are fair game. It was worth the effort to listen in. You’re a little scary, Parker. But impressive.”

  “Kayla was a special situation.” I stuck out my tongue. “And you know what they say about eavesdroppers.”

  “That they learn really useful things?”

  Ethan turned to Deshawn. “So, you’re saying Parker would help me if I boohooed like Kayla?”

  I pointed at Ethan. “Were we recorded live on camera for the whole school to see or something?” He could make things move with his mind, but he couldn’t listen in from a distance like Deshawn. Which meant he was … watching me on the way to the cafeteria? Was he looking for me?

  Well, we sometimes walked to the cafeteria together. He’d probably just been passing by when Kayla’s pitiful scene caught his attention.

  Ethan said, “You’re such a sucker for tears.”

  “Okay, true, but this actually smelled bad.” I kicked the table leg.

  “What, I stink right now?” Ethan sniffed near his armpit and burst out laughing at my face. “I kid! I tease! I know what it does to you, Parks.”

  A rosy glow bubbled inside for a moment. He knew me. “Today was really bad. It stunk like burnt coffee. I get enough of that stench at home.”

  “Parents at it again?” Avery asked.

  “Worse than ever. Dad keeps a pretty decent lid on things these days, but Mom’s still spewing her mood all over.” I pushed chunks of neon orange chicken around but suddenly couldn’t eat any.

  Everyone else’s parents accepted their kids and their honest-to-goodness psychic gifts, even Avery’s parents, who divorced years ago. My parents had stayed married, but at the rate they were going, that might not last for long. None of the parenting books had a chapter called “How to Raise Your Empath Daughter When Her Gift Gives One of You the Willies.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry, Parks,” Ethan said. “Come hang with us anytime. My parents love you. Shoot, even my grandma loves you when she visits. At least I think she does. She doesn’t speak English, and my Korean’s still pathetic, but I’m pretty sure she said you were awesome.”

  “All our families love you, Mood Ring,” Deshawn said, his bass voice rumbling.

  No one was teasing now. They all knew that for an empath, living in a home with a bitterly angry mother was like taking a daily poison pill.

  I took a deep breath. No way would I ruin their lunch with a Parker pity party. “Thanks, but it’s okay. It’s her loss.”

  After a split-second pause, Ethan said, “Of course it is. So. Back to me, then. I’ll totally blubber for you if you’ll tell me if I should ask Sophie to the dance.” He winked, and I laughed, grateful for the topic change.

  Hands clasped against his chest, he continued, “But if you can tell she’d say no, you could spare me the humiliation before I get shot down. Wouldn’t that count as one of your patented do-gooder acts of mercy?”

  My necklace began to lift and jiggle.

  I clamped my hand around it and glared, checking around the room. Talking in code around clueless classmates was one thing. But visible gift-using was something else altogether. “Cut it out. Anyway, you wouldn’t cry—you’d just ask the next girl. Sophie’s feelings are her business.”

  And Ethan’s feelings were … maddening.

  “Not if they involve me!”

  I sighed, looked over at Sophie Reynolds. Super cute, with a charming little giggle. He’d have a great time with her, no doubt.

  “Fine,” I caved. I called over, “Hey, Sophie! Love those jeans!”

  Sophie grinned back. When her gaze landed on Ethan, I took a quick peek inside the girl’s heart.

  “Green light. She thinks you’re cool.” Of course.

  “Thanks, Parker! You’re a great friend!” Pushing away from the table, Ethan jogged over to Sophie with his adorable mile-wide grin and those sparkling hazel eyes from his red-headed mother.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. I ignored my chicken, taking a sip of water instead.

  Ethan had never asked me what my feelings were about a dance. Just as well. The two of us together like that would be way too complicated. Definitely a bad idea.

  Ethan said something to Sophie, but the words didn’t carry over the rattle of the air conditioning. For the first time, I cursed our clever soundproofing plan.

  “Want me to listen in, Mood Ring?” Deshawn didn’t lift his head, but his voice held understanding.

  My throat tightened. “No, why would I?”

  When I received no answer, I looked up to see him exchanging eye rolls with Avery.

  “We’re friends,” I insisted. “Lifelong friends. That’s all. And friends feel happy for each other if they get what they want—”

  There was a squeal, and Sophie gave Ethan a tight hug.

  “I guess that answers that question,” Avery said.

  “There was no question.” My voice was flat. I scooped up a spoonful of pudding and let it plop back into the bowl.

  Avery pursed her lips. Deshawn frowned. Their shields were locked tight, thankfully, but Sophie’s happiness radiated across the room like sunlight. She was a nice girl, dang it.

  I stood up, my chair screeching along the tile and forced myself to smile. Acting chops. I had them. “Gotta go, guys. Tell Ethan congrats on the date.”

  “See ya, buddy.” Avery’s voice was faint, left behind by my speeding feet.

  On my way out the door, I tossed the barely touched chicken into the garbage. Who cared, really? It was just a dumb dance.

  Okay, it was only the coolest dance in the history of our school, one Avery and I helped plan, hoping to use it on our application to the high school student council next year. I could get a date. The thing was, there was only one person I wanted to go with.

  When I was upset, the library called to me like a Siren. Books never demanded, never cried. They simply waited. Quietly.

  I headed there now. I didn’t usually mind so much when Ethan found a new girl to crush on. If it was a day ending in “y,” he was flirting. But today? Today had stung.

  My tennis shoes slapped faster against the floor, but before I reached the library, I turned the corner and ran into someone.

  “Oomph!”

  “Parker! Are you okay?” Dr. O’Malley, the new eighth-grade counselor, held my elbow to steady me when I bounced off her.

  “I’m fine.” I said automatically, hiding a shudder. I avoided Dr. O like blue mascara, although it wasn’t easy most days since I served as an office aide during third period. The counselor was as buttoned down as her business suits and as severe as her bun. No emotions ever billowed from her. The whole rest of the front office was usually coated with stressful feelings, and the principal radiated near-constant anxiety. But when I had tried to X-ray behind Dr. O’s emotional iron curtain, I couldn’t. Other than the Fab Four, the few people who could block me like Dr. O were either highly repressed or very controlling. Or both.

  “I’m glad I ran into you.” Dr. O didn’t
even smile at the pun. “I was hoping you could show our newest student around. Parker, this is Mia Rodriguez. Mia, Parker Mills is social chair for the eighth-grade student council and one of our office aides. I know you’ll be in good hands.”

  The new girl stared at the floor, hands clasped tightly together.

  “Nice to meet you, Mia,” I said. “Where’re you from?”

  Mia finally looked up. Her eyes were such a dark brown, they were nearly black, filled with misery.

  Pain. Betrayal. Self-hatred.

  Emotions poured from her, covered in the scent of burned meat. Emotions so powerful they almost washed words along with them like debris in a raging flood—I hate my life. I hate myself.

  The feelings pierced my heart like a knife, and I gasped. I faked a cough to cover it up. “Sorry. Allergies.” Powerful stuff. Deep. Waterfall, waterfall, waterfall … I tried to wash the bad mojo away, but it was too strong, too close. I stuffed my trembling hands in my pockets.

  Mia looked away. “I’m from a small town near Houston. Bent Creek.”

  The emotional storm shut off as suddenly as it began. To my psychic senses, it felt like a wall of granite sprung up between us, blocking the rogue wave of hatred and pain. It had been silenced completely and immediately … but I hadn’t stopped it. Mia had.

  Powerful emotions like Mia’s shouldn’t have stopped mid-flood like that, not without me flexing my empathy muscles.

  “Another Texan, then,” I said, a bit breathless. I’d long ago learned to manage unexpected emo-jabs, but this girl … that was at least an 8.5 of Pure Pain on the Emo Scale, maybe higher. The worst I’d felt in ages. A migraine loomed behind my right eye. I thought of the quiet library and almost whimpered.

  “Parker, show Mia the cafeteria, please. You both have permission to go to fifth period late so she can eat.”

  I took the blue hall passes with a nod. There was no use arguing, and besides, in the face of Mia’s pain, I wanted to help. Thinking of Avery’s warning, I pursed my lips. Maybe simply offering a good listening ear would be enough to take the edge off.

  We set off toward the cafeteria. I had to look up to meet Mia’s gaze. I often had to look up at people, but Mia was taller than most.

  “Well, welcome to Divine. Just moved in?”

  “Yesterday.” Mia took in everything with watchful dark eyes.

  I took in everything I could, too. Mia wore faded jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a denim jacket. Way too plain. Hair just hanging there? Practically criminal to waste those thick black locks, perfect for messy buns. I made a mental note—Operation Butterfly might be an easy fix here, no psychic skills required. Makeovers didn’t help everyone, no matter what the movies said, but it was a basic option in my happiness shortcut toolkit. Sometimes simple was better.

  “I bet being new is hard. I’ve lived here all my life, so I can’t imagine.”

  “It’ll be okay.” Mia sounded grim.

  On impulse, I reached my gift over to peek in Mia’s heart to see what the deal was, but my empathy slid along a solid wall, bouncing right back off. I frowned, upped my power a bit, and looked harder. Still nothing.

  It was one thing not to leak emotions much; quite another to actually block an empathy X-ray attempt. Mia was better shielded than my dad, even … more like Avery, Ethan, and Deshawn.

  I noted Mia’s tight muscles, clamped jaw. No, more like Dr. O with her rigid emo-silence, a natural side effect of a shut-down heart.

  “Well, it’s a small place, so you’ll get to know everyone soon enough.” I smiled, making sure my dimple popped up.

  “Actually, I was born here, too,” Mia said. “I guess in a way, I’m actually coming home. Sort of.”

  “Get out! What brings you back?” The noise—and emotional waves—from the cafeteria grew louder.

  “I’m, uh, living with my aunt for a while. She teaches Latin American studies at the university here.”

  “Oh, you’ll have to meet my besties, then. All of us have a parent working at the university. My dad teaches psychology.”

  Mia looked like she wanted to say something, but by this point, the roar of the cafeteria was impossible to ignore. Once inside, our noses were assaulted by the cafeteria’s peculiar perma-smell of fried foods and ammonia.

  Chatting to keep things light and relaxed, I showed Mia the various line options. (“Skip the ham rolls. Totally gross. The desserts are really good, though.”) Ten minutes of lunch remained when I returned to our table with Mia in tow.

  Ethan and Deshawn were pouring over sheet music. Avery was throwing fries at them, no doubt just to irritate. Sophie still sat at the other table.

  I beamed. “Hey, everyone, this is Mia Rodriguez, from Bent Creek, Texas. She’s new here. Mia, these are my people. The guy in the Led Zeppelin T-shirt is Ethan Kwon, an awesome drummer. His band’s called Kinetic Threat, and they’re fantastic.”

  “Aw, Parker. You’re going to make me blush,” Ethan said.

  “He’s also an attention hog, so ignore him when he acts up.”

  He fell from his chair, groaning as if he’d been stabbed. Yeah, the boy could definitely be a star on stage if he wanted it. A giggle escaped me unwillingly, and Mia gave a small smile.

  I cleared my throat. “Deshawn Boothe here is a math whiz who runs like the wind, and this is my best friend Avery Portman, who’s going to study brains one day. Y’all, keep an eye out for Mia, okay? I’m showing her around.”

  Deshawn and Ethan pulled out a chair for Mia, already chatting her up. This wasn’t my first rodeo at helping out a new kid, and my friends always pitched in. My attention zeroed in on Avery, though, who hadn’t yet said a word. She sat ramrod straight, motionless. Her eyes were wide pools of blue, pupils shrunk to tiny pinpricks … and she was staring right at Mia.

  Uh-oh. I kicked Ethan’s foot under the table and rolled my eyes in Avery’s direction.

  After taking a second look at Avery, Ethan exchanged a glance with Deshawn and jumped to his feet. “Mia, hey, sorry we gotta go, but nice to meet you. Avery, come on, the bell’s about to ring.”

  He hauled Avery to her feet, and she waved goodbye. The movement looked stilted and nothing like her usual— ohh. Ethan had waved Avery’s hand goodbye, using his telekinesis to move her hand like a puppet’s.

  I raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave the tiniest shrug. Clever boy. More than a little creepy and definitely risky, but I understood why he did it. Caught in a vision, Avery could barely stand on her own. It must be a bad one—she usually had enough warning to get out of public before she zoned out.

  Deshawn and Ethan left with Avery between them. Mia stared after them with a little furrow between her brows. “Is she okay?”

  I had the same question. “Avery sometimes gets an aura before a migraine. They’ll get her to the nurse if that’s what’s going on.”

  Mia began eating. “I’m sorry to hear that. She looked pale.”

  “Redheads often do. She hates it.”

  “She’s really pretty, though. I like the boots.”

  I gave an approving nod. “Avery’s got style. She wants to be a neurologist but weeps at the thought of wearing scrubs. She makes half her clothes herself.”

  Mia pursed her lips before saying, “Applause. I can’t sew a button.”

  “Me either. She’s also super smart. I’m just thankful for my one A in Drama. What about you? I can set you up with clubs and stuff, depending on your thing.”

  “I paint. And draw. I think I’ve got art last period. I hope so, anyway.” She unfolded a printed class schedule and squinted at it.

  “Oh, cool, I’d love to see some of your work!”

  A flash of sharp pain screeched against my skin but was gone just as quickly. Not totally repressed after all, I thought.

  “I’m not unpacked yet.” Mia examined her schedule as if it held the meaning of life.

  Avery’s warning to stop interfering flashed again through my mind. Mia’s level of pain really needed pro
fessional help anyway. But still … pain was pain. And happiness was my specialty.

  I tapped my fingers on the table. “Let me see your schedule.”

  The piece of paper looked like it had been stuffed in someone’s shoe for a week. Sweaty fingerprints smeared the ink in several places.

  I pretended not to notice. “Good news! We’ve got history together after lunch, so I can walk you there when you’re ready. I won’t see you the rest of the day, but I’m free after school.”

  I’m not trying to fix Mia, I told myself firmly. This was being neighborly.

  When Mia didn’t reply beyond a half smile, I asked, “Are you living in the Glade?”

  Forest Glade was the biggest apartment complex in Divine. Not too pricey and within walking distance of campus, it had a high concentration of professors. I’d lived there all my life, along with two others of the Fab Four. Avery and I even shared a wall—it made life bearable when my parents fought.

  “I think so?” Mia shook her head. “I can’t keep it all straight.”

  “I hear that. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

  Mia definitely needed a friend. The fact that she didn’t bleed emotions easily was actually a bonus, with that kind of intense unhappiness inside. Surely I could come up with something that would help without being obvious—a simple, easy plan that even Avery would approve of.

  On the way to history, hardly officially late yet, we passed Elizabeth Frenneli putting up a poster next to the stairwell. I stopped and squealed. A spooky castle sat on a cliff, a bolt of lightning glowing behind it. Jagged orange letters announced the Halloween costume dance.

  “Oh my gosh, Elizabeth! Did you make that?”

  At the girl’s shy nod, I crowed, “You have such a gift! Good thing we have you on the dance committee!” Good thing I’d sweet-talked her into it. She’d been wasting all that talent.

  “A costume dance? For Halloween?” Mia asked.

  I quickly introduced the two girls and went on. “It’s gonna be the best! The eighth-graders always throw the Halloween dance, and our class is going to make it the best ever. It’s still a month off, but a month is practically like tomorrow. You’ve got to get the perfect costume, and then there’s all the maneuvering for a date. Speaking of, got a date yet, Elizabeth?”