Being Jamie Baker (16 page)

I smiled at the dark lightbulb, but then, without warning, Ryan put his hand to my cheek and started to bring his lips to mine. He took me by surprise and I jumped back, shocking Ryan’s fingers when I pulled away from them. The lightbulb lit up so bright it was nearly blinding.

Ryan laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. But you can’t blame me for wanting to make sure.”

I didn’t think it was so funny. My hand tightened on the light until the brightness was squelched, and the bulb lay in tiny pieces on the deck.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said again, more seriously this time. “I promise, no more surprises. But did you see that? You controlled it. If we keep working on it, you’re only going to get better and better. And we could do that with all of your powers.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “You want to see what I can do?”

“I’m dying to see everything you can do.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” I grumbled, and then took off running.

I was gone for probably about ten seconds. When I got back, Ryan still looked dazed from seeing me disappear.

“Here.” I dumped a fistful of sand into his hand.

Ryan looked down with wide eyes. “Is that…” He cast his gaze down the mountain behind us at the lake. “Did you just go—”

I looked over his shoulder at the lake below and shook my head. “Nope. That would be Pacific Ocean sand. Carmel Beach, actually, in Monterey.” I shrugged when his mouth fell open. “Nothing but the best.”

I waited for Ryan to do or say something. It took him a minute, but as he’d promised earlier, he didn’t freak out. “You just went all the way to Monterey? That’s like a five-hour drive from here.” I shrugged again. “I’m fast. Of all my powers, speed is the strongest, then probably the hearing.

Those are the ones I use the most. All the others I can’t do quite as well.” Ryan was still trying to keep his game face on, but he had that overwhelmed look in his eyes again.

He couldn’t stop staring at me, so I leaned against the porch railing and looked out over the water to avoid his gaze. After a minute he joined me. Once he was looking at the lake and not me, he was able to speak a lot easier. “So, you’re fast, you can hear, and you could murder me with a single touch. And you’re saying there’s more you can do?”

“Not much. Aside from the walking battery part, everything seems to be strictly physical. My dad has a theory about that.”

“I love theories!” After I gave him a peculiar look Ryan explained himself. “Remember the one about you and the mafia?” He shrugged, guilty. “That wasn’t my first.” I don’t know how Ryan managed to keep a straight face because I sure couldn’t. I cracked up, but that made it a lot easier to tell the story. “The truck that was carrying the waste I was doused in had come from a fertilizer plant. My dad thinks that the electricity from the power lines cooked all that fertilizer stuff into my body like some sort of super Miracle-Gro cocktail. We think it’s enhanced me physically, just like it would grass or whatever.”

“So is that why your hair grows in green now?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Ha, ha,” I said.

“Is it a grassy green? Or more of a neon green?”

I ignored him.

“Sorry,” he said, laughing at himself. “I just can’t picture you with green hair. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“Yeah,” I said, snorting. “Right.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, maybe because I’d have to let it grow out for you to see it, and I’d look like a major freak. I might be able to get away with it in Los Angeles, but Sacramento?” Ryan frowned and then tried to negotiate. “Okay, fine. But the eyes. You have to let me see the eyes.”

I cut my gaze back to the water. Unlike with the hair, I didn’t really have a good excuse not to show Ryan my eyes. But I’m not just self-conscious about my post-accident looks—I’m
super
self-conscious. My eyes were the most freakish thing about me, and no way was I going to let Ryan win this one. “You’ve seen them,” I said, my mind made up.

“I barely saw the one, and only for a few seconds. That doesn’t count.”

“Does too.”

“So does not!”

Whatever look I gave Ryan just then was enough to make him throw his hands up in defeat.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “We’re talking about the accident. Your dad’s theory about you being Miracle-Gro Girl…”

I glared at him again, but decided to let the stupid nickname slide. This time. “The chemicals I was doused in somehow amped up all my physical senses. Speed and agility, sound, sight, strength, smell, taste.”

“You have supertaste?” Ryan asked.

“It’s not my favorite superpower. Basically my taste buds are supersensitive just like everything else. Mostly it just makes me superpicky. Drives my mom insane.”

“The world’s first superhero food critic. Watch out, Wolfgang Puck.” Ryan laughed again, and I felt myself being intoxicated by his laughter. I’ve never joked around about my powers before. The only people I’ve ever talked about them with are my parents, and then we’re always so serious. I’ve never thought about the possibility of them being fun before, but standing there with Ryan, laughing and joking around, I was starting to see how he could be optimistic.

Optimism obviously isn’t one of my stronger qualities, but it seemed to be a superpower for Ryan.

“How come you are the way you are?” I asked when the laughter died down.

Ryan was surprised by the question. He smiled a little warily and then asked, “What way am I?”

“I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re so laid-back all the time, and you can find the bright side of everything. You never let people upset you. You’re just so… happy. All the time. And it’s contagious. No one can light up a room the way you can.”

“No one can light up a room the way you can either,” he joked.

“I’m serious! No one can be as relaxed as you are all the time. How do you do it? If I could be half as calm as you are, I wouldn’t need to go through your superpower boot camp.”

“In that case, I’ll never give up my secret.”

“Seriously, though, Ryan, tell me something about yourself. You know everything about me, but you’re as much of a mystery to me as I am to anybody else.” I felt my neck heat up and looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Please?” I whispered shyly. “I want to understand you too.” I glanced back at Ryan when he didn’t say anything, and he seemed to be a million miles from where I was all of a sudden, lost in his own world.

Just when I thought he wouldn’t open up to me, he said, “It’s because of my dad.” His eyes stayed glossy, and they never left the water.

“I should have figured. Self-help guru and all.”

“Not Gene—my real dad.” Ryan finally broke his stare to smile at me. “Gene’s a great guy, and I guess he has helped me a lot. That’s probably where I get my confidence. But the mild temperament comes from my father.”

I suddenly realized I didn’t know what had happened to his dad. I didn’t know if his parents were divorced or if he had died. I didn’t even know how long ago Ryan’s mom got remarried. I was afraid I was bringing up really painful memories, but I was so curious I couldn’t tell him to stop.

“My dad isn’t a bad guy necessarily, but he was so miserable when he lived with us. Everything was such a big deal to him, and he would pick a fight over the tiniest things. If my mom somehow looked at him funny, if she answered the phone while they were talking, if I spilled my juice on the table or dropped a pass when we were playing catch… He was always yelling and making my mom upset over the most ridiculous things. By the time my parents got divorced they were fighting with each other ninety-nine percent of the time. I spent most of my time hiding out at friends’ houses or in my room.

“Mom joined a yoga class after my dad left, as a way to deal with everything, and this woman in her class dragged her to one of Gene’s seminars. Gene changed my mom’s life, but it’s the memories of my dad that make me the way I am. It’s just not worth it to be so stressed and angry about everything.

Life’s generally not so bad—most people just choose to see the negative.” Ryan stopped for a minute, smiled nervously at me, and then said, “It’s kind of like you. You’ve been through a lot and have legitimate problems to worry about, but do you even try to see the good things? You were given a second chance at life, Jamie. Everything about you is a walking, talking miracle, but you’re wasting it.”

And I thought my parents were good with the guilt trips…

I started to cry, and to be honest I don’t think Ryan was surprised at all. “You’re right,” I said. “I am wasting it. I hate my life. Every single day a part of me wishes I didn’t survive that accident.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Yeah but, Ryan, I’m not like you. I don’t know how to just shake things off like they don’t matter. What if I can’t change?”

Ryan grabbed another lightbulb from his bag. “You’ve already started the process.” Tears were falling fiercely down my face, but I smiled through them and even let go this half sob, half laugh. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but the last time I did that he missed a day of school, so instead I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“How many of those did you bring?” I asked, pointing to the lightbulb.

Ryan smiled, grateful to see my good mood return. “Let’s just say I came prepared.”

* * * * *

Having to find excuses for all the time I spent with Ryan over the next few weeks wasn’t really much of a problem—since my accident I’d constantly been taking off for hours at a time, claiming I needed a little peace and quiet—but my parents’ fridge was becoming even more crowded. Every time I had “practice,” as Ryan called it, I made sure to take a minute to collect another magnet. I don’t know if I was trying to produce a stable alibi, or if I was just hoping to ease some of the guilt I felt for lying to my parents.

I felt bad, but I hung out with Ryan anyway. Aside from the fact that I was sort of addicted to him, he really was helping me, and that was too important to ignore. The more we tested my powers, the more aware my body became of them. I physically felt like I had a better understanding of how they worked and what my limitations were.

Still, no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to separate the power from all my stupid emotions.

With every little mood swing all control would fly out the window. If Ryan looked at me the wrong way, I lost it. If Ryan looked at me the
right
way, I lost it. And whenever he tried to kiss me, something usually blew up. Someone ought to teach
him
a little control.

So we gave the powers a rest, and instead Ryan taught me some of his stepdad’s theories on stress management and herbal supplements. He also showed me proper meditation techniques. We did yoga together, and even though I felt ridiculous, I couldn’t deny the positive effects living a healthier lifestyle were having on me.

My dad noticed the changes too, and completely floored me one Saturday evening with a hefty gift certificate to Barnes & Noble, of all places. “What’s this for?” I asked, unable to fathom his reasons for giving it to me.

“Well, I know technically you still haven’t made any friends or gotten a job, but you’ve been a different girl these last few weeks, so I’m letting you off the hook.”

“What’s the catch?” Yeah, I was suspicious. My dad doesn’t just back down from stuff. I totally get my stubbornness from him.

“No catch,” he insisted. “We only wanted you to do those things because you seemed so miserable, but you’ve been so much happier lately that even though you didn’t do it my way, you still earned your freedom.”

“So I’m not grounded anymore?” I was still waiting for the punch line.

“Not grounded anymore.”

“And what about Ryan?”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I still forbidden to talk to him?”

“Jamie, I wasn’t grounding you from Ryan as punishment, it’s just that it’s too—”

“Dad,” I interrupted, not needing to hear what I knew he was going to say. “You’ve got to see that there are going to be risks no matter who I choose to talk to. Whether it’s Ryan now or someone else who gets to know me in the future. Either I stay locked up in this house forever and make sure that no one ever learns the truth, or I make friends and risk someone finding out. I can’t have it both ways. But believe me, if there’s anybody that doesn’t want the world to figure out I’m a freak, it’s me.” My parents both frowned at my use of the word “freak,” but I never broke my concentration. I gave my dad the most earnest smile I had in me. “I’m the one this happened to. It’s my secret, my life.

You’ve got to give me a little more trust that I know what I’m doing.” This seemed to make my dad think about it, but he was still clearly not convinced. I knew I couldn’t just drop it and hoped I could get through this speech without blushing. “You said you wanted me to be happy.” I shrugged sheepishly when I had both my parents looking at me intently. “Ryan makes me happy. It’s not even his fault. The kid just has a gift. He makes everyone happy. He’s my best friend, my
only
friend, and I need him.”

So much for not blushing. I felt my face heat up, and my shyness on the subject finally unlocked the tears of joy my mother had been trying so hard to hold back. Talk about embarrassing. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Stan!” she whined.

My dad was quiet for a minute, and then finally sighed. “Honey, if he’s responsible for the changes in you,” he said, giving me a wary smile, “then I’m grateful to him. I guess if it’s really what you need, then I trust you. Just promise me that you’ll be careful about this.” I managed not to squeal in my moment of bliss, but I bounded into his arms and practically knocked him off his feet. “Thanks, Daddy!” I squeaked as I kissed his cheek. “I promise my secret will stay as safe as it’s always been.”

I kissed him on the cheek again. I couldn’t help it. I was just so relieved to have my dad’s approval. This time he chuckled lightly and hugged me back.

“So, can I go over to Ryan’s for a little while?” I asked when I pulled away from him. “Tell him the good news?”

After another long sigh, my dad’s smile finally faded. “Fine, go,” he said. “Just be careful!” This time I rolled my eyes at the warning. “Ryan’s a really, really good person, Dad. You’ll see.