Perception (3 page)

I DEFTLY AVOIDED MALLORY’S QUESTION AND MY
conflicted feelings on the topic by claiming to have to hurry home.

Of course I’d thought about the dance, but I truly didn’t know what I wanted to do. Right now I was leaning toward skipping the whole mess.

I trudged up the porch steps and opened the front door. “Perry!”

“In here,” he called.

I turned left and entered the kitchen, ready to bitch him out.

He stood next to the island, smiling sweetly, with a piece of chocolate in his outstretched hand.

I snatched it and took a bite. “You’re not off the hook, you know.”

“I know,” he said. “But I figured a chocolate offering would weaken your wrath.”

“Why didn’t you pick me up?”

Perry rubbed his right eyebrow, which had a small scar
from when he took a tumble down the staircase as a child. “I forgot?”

It sounded more like a question than an answer, like a lie he was trying on for size. I looked into his eyes, the same icy blue as mine, and knew I couldn’t stay mad at him. He’d been through a lot this summer. One minute he was a carefree recent high school grad, always up for a good time or an easy girl. The next minute, one of those easy girls ended up dead and he was the top suspect. In the end, we’d cleared his name, but when something like that happens, you can’t snap your fingers and be the same person you were before.

Perry just needed some time. He’d deferred his fall admission to college. Mom and I understood. College could wait a semester. I figured he’d lounge around and play video games all day, and he did some of that, but he wasn’t a total lazy-ass. He was also taking an online course in Web design and working on a website for our business. It started out as a basic page but now looked quite professional.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

“Out buying fabric for those ‘dresses’ she’s making.” He made finger quotes in the air and I chuckled.

“So what were you doing that was more important than picking up your little sister?” I popped another piece of chocolate in my mouth.

“I lost track of time.” He motioned to his laptop on the kitchen table. “Working on the website.”

I took a peek. “Looks cool.”

Perry moseyed back to the table. “Milly told Mom that there’s a local woman who says her daughter is missing. And she goes to your school. What’s up with that?”

I nodded solemnly. “Her name is Sierra Waldman. She’s lived here for years but was homeschooled. She’s only been in our school for a month. She’s a year ahead of me. I don’t know much about her at all. But I wish I could help somehow …” My voice trailed off as Perry gave me a look.

“Don’t even go there,” he said, and returned his attention to his computer, effectively tuning me out.

I watched him for a moment. He hadn’t inherited Mom’s wild red hair and freckles like I had. He had smooth black hair, alabaster skin, and a smile that made tourist girls fall over themselves. He was tall, not a shorty like Mom and me. But he’d never looked lanky before now. I wondered if he was eating enough.

I know everyone deals with trauma their own way and it seemed that Perry’s way was to keep it all inside. Mom and I let him do that, since it was what he wanted. And because it was easier than fighting with him and forcing him to talk. But now I wondered if we took the cowardly way out. And maybe Perry was worse off for it.

“What?” he snapped, catching me staring at him.

“Nothing.” I wandered back into the foyer.

A loud knock on the front door made me leap back. I opened it with my hand on my heart.

Justin raised his eyebrows. “Dramatic, but I like it. I’m happy to see you, too.”

I dropped my hand. “I was walking right by the door when you pounded on it. I’m merely trying not to have a heart attack.”

He smiled, his blue eyes dancing. “So you’re saying I got your heart racing.”

“Incorrigible,” I muttered. I opened the door wide, and he stepped inside.

Justin and I were trying on a new label lately: friends. It was a big step for me, considering I despised him a few months ago. For him, I could tell it was a baby step toward our inevitable reunion.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I didn’t really see you in school today. You ran off at the end of physics before I could say hi. So I figured I’d stop by to see how your day was.” He smiled and slipped his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants. He wore a button-down shirt, white with pink stripes. If any guy could pull off wearing pink, it was Justin.

I looked at him quizzically. “You came here to see how my day was? You could have just called.”

“Face time’s important. Reminds you that you love me.”

“Loved. Past tense.” I busied myself with the task of plucking dead leaves from a gigantic plant on the coffee table.

Justin made himself comfortable on the couch. “Anyway, we’re friends now. Isn’t this what friends do? Don’t girlfriends stop by, chitchat about nothing, then change into lingerie, have a pillow fight, and end the day with a session of Truth or Dare?”

I threw a leaf at him, and he caught it in midair. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Dang,” he said. “So you seemed to have your head in the clouds in physics today.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I was thinking about Sierra Waldman.”

“The girl who ran away?” At my nod, he shrugged. “Didn’t know her.” He stood and began helping me pull the dead leaves. “Your mom really digs flowers, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s like a funeral parlor around here sometimes.”

“Want me to carry in that big arrangement from the porch?”

I paused. “What are you talking about?”

He ran a hand through his short blond hair. “There’s a big basket of flowers out there. You didn’t see it?”

I rushed out to the porch and, just like he said, a beautiful arrangement of lilies sat in a wicker basket to the side of the door.

“I would have seen this on my way in,” I said. “It must have arrived since I got home. But the delivery guy would have knocked …” I spied a little square envelope with my name on it and realized what was going on.

I turned to Justin. “It’s very sweet, really. But buying me flowers and leaving me notes isn’t going to help you any. I appreciate it, but you have to accept that we’re friends and that’s it. The only thing that would help your case is a time machine.”

I didn’t want to sound too mean, so I added, “Thanks, though,” as I picked up the basket.

Justin followed me as I brought the flowers back inside, a
confused look on his face. “I’d love to take credit for these beauties, but unfortunately, they’re not from me. And … what notes?”

As Justin continued his denial, I pulled the square card from the envelope. It bore no name, just the words:

BEAUTIFUL. TALENTED. YOU.

I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips. The heat of a blush bloomed on my cheeks. This was definitely something Justin would do.

“I guess I have some competition,” Justin said, reading the card over my shoulder.

I turned to him and raised an eyebrow with suspicion. “This really wasn’t you?”

“I swear.” He held one hand up and the other over his heart.

Whoever my secret admirer was, he’d left the flowers and snuck away without knocking. He obviously wanted to stay anonymous.

For now.

“Why don’t you just do your thing?” Justin asked.

It was worth a try. For my gift to work, I usually had to focus. Which was nice, actually. If I was barraged with visions all day long anytime I touched anything, I’d be in a straitjacket by now.

I held the card in one hand, the little envelope in the other, closed my eyes, and concentrated. I inhaled deeply through my nose and focused on the paper between my fingertips. A minute of silence passed.

“You’re cute when you go all psy-chick.”

My eyes snapped open.

“Sorry,” Justin said. “Did I ruin it?”

“No, I wasn’t getting anything anyway.”

And that was the frustrating part of my gift. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. I’m sure there was some scientific basis for it. Like how recently someone had touched the object, or for how long, or whatever. But I didn’t know the formula.

“Oh, well. So the homecoming dance is coming up,” Justin said, plucking the card from my hand and tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s Ladies’ Choice.”

“Yes, I know,” I said, putting one hand on my hip.

He winked. “Just wanted to make sure you knew about it.” He looked at his watch. “I should probably get going.”

“Okay, see you at school tomorrow. I promise not to ignore you in physics.”

I opened the door for him. Instead of walking out, he paused when he reached me.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “If you asked me to be your date …” He leaned in, kissed my cheek, and then his lips came up to my ear and whispered, “I’d say yes.”

THE FIRST PERSON I SAW AT SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY
was not Justin, but Cody Rowe. Never a good sign.

I turned the corner into the main hallway and saw him standing in front of my locker. He spied me and took off, running right up to Tiffany. The two of them giggled as they disappeared into a classroom.

Someday I’m going to use Cody as evidence in a science experiment to prove nature over nurture, because that kid was born evil. Back in kindergarten, a boy beat him in Candy Land, so Cody held him down on the floor and bit him five times. Even Tiffany was nice in kindergarten. She didn’t turn into Beelzebub until she sprouted boobs.

Evil must love company, though, because Cody worshipped Queen Tiffany and performed any demented task she requested of her minion. And it wasn’t because he was getting in her pants. No way. Even his athletic prowess couldn’t help him in the looks department. And looks were priority numero uno to Tiffany’s pants.

I opened my locker, half expecting to find a dead fish or a
pipe bomb. Nothing immediately jumped out at me, so I breathed a little easier. I rifled through my stuff and found nothing. Whatever prank Tiffany and Cody had planned, they hadn’t had time to do it. Or maybe he was just coincidentally standing in front of my locker.

Yeah, right.

I pulled out my physics book, shut the locker door, then started in surprise.

Mallory smiled. “Scare ya?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting someone to be standing there.”

“Sorry.” Mallory hefted her messenger bag onto her shoulder. It was bright pink and bore the names of about ten bands I’d never heard of. “So what’s up?”

“Heading to physics,” I said, and started walking. “You?”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Phys ed. The bane of my existence.”

“Picked last?”

“Every time. So it’s Friday. Got any hot dates tonight?”

I chuckled. “No.”

“Come on. You have two interested guys. Pick one and tell me all the deets so I can live vicariously through you.”

“Get a date of your own!” I said, chuckling.

“I wish. There is someone I’m thinking of for the Ladies’ Choice dance, but … we’ll see how that goes. What are you up to this weekend?”

I groaned. “It’s the first weekend of October. Which means I have hours of Halloween decorating ahead of me.”

“Decorating where?”

“Like every room in the house and then the yard. Halloween’s my mother’s favorite holiday. Plus she feels it’s good for business. Like seeing Christmas decorations in the mall makes people want to buy stuff, seeing papier-mâché ghosts in our tree might make people want to talk to the dead.”

Normally, I’d be embarrassed revealing so much about my family business, but I felt comfortable with Mallory.

She shrugged. “My mom is addicted to scrapbooking. One entire room in our house is filled with scrapbook crap.” She shook her head at the tragedy of it. “We all have our vices.”

Kendra ran up, wedged herself between us, and faced me, ignoring Mallory. “Did you hear?”

By the way she was bouncing up and down, she either had exciting gossip or desperately had to pee.

“No,” I said. “What’s up?”

“The cops are here!” Kendra said it delightedly, like it was good news.

“What for?” Mallory asked, stepping toward us.

Kendra frowned at her and turned toward me, as if I had asked. “It’s about Sierra Waldman. Pass it on! I’ve got to find Brooke and Tiffany!”

She bounced off, and I turned to Mallory, ready to apologize for Kendra’s shunning of her. But Mallory’s face was turning a light shade of green and I immediately forgot about Kendra.

“Are you okay?” I put a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she croaked, covering her mouth. “I don’t feel so good. I’ve got to go.”

I slid into my seat at the black lab table I shared with Brooke, who surprisingly wasn’t as annoying on a one-on-one basis as she was when Kendra was around. And over the last month, I’d gotten to know a secret only her lab partner could know.

Brooke wasn’t exactly dumb.

When we became lab partners, I shuddered inside, thinking of all the extra work I’d have to do. To my amazement, she handled her own. And she did pretty well on our first test, too, from the peek I’d taken before she stuffed the paper into her bag.

I didn’t know why she kept it a secret. Maybe she acted like a bimbo because she thought guys liked it. Or maybe she feared the wrath of Kendra and Tiffany if she were found out. All I knew was, it was one more thing I didn’t respect about that crew.

I opened my notebook to a blank page and positioned my pen, ready to take notes on the wonders of physics. My neck tickled a bit and I rubbed it and gave an involuntary shiver.

Someone was watching me.

I glanced to my right, but Brooke was busy fiddling with her mechanical pencil. I turned left, nonchalantly peering over my shoulder, and solved the mystery.

Justin sat in the back row, in his usual seat. His eyes were
on me, and when caught, he smiled and gave a little wave. I was about to wave back, but Mr. Rylander startled me with an unnecessarily loud opening to his lecture.

“Magnets!”

I faced forward and grabbed my pen.

“Today we’re going to discuss magnets, attraction, repulsion, action at a distance, ferromagnetic material, diamagnetism, and more. It will be on the quiz Monday, so I suggest you all shake out those Friday cobwebs and pay attention.”

One person moaned, a few others sighed.

Brooke leaned close and whispered, “Kendra thinks he’s cute.”

My mouth turned down. “Mr. Rylander?”

I looked up at him while he droned on about north and south poles. He paced back and forth, stopping now and then to push his big black hipster glasses up as they slipped down his nose. His brown hair was disheveled, and he wore jeans and Vans with his shirt and tie. Maybe he would be dorky cute, if he weren’t trying so hard to be everyone’s friend all the time. Like his mission in life was to be “the cool teacher.” He
was
young. He mentioned his age — twenty-three — at least half a dozen times in class. But, in any case, he was a teacher, which made thinking about him that way gross — even for Kendra.

Brooke raised one eyebrow. “And I don’t disagree with her.”

Apparently, bad taste was contagious.

“What are magnets used for?” Rylander asked.

Some jock answered, “So my mom can hang my A-pluses on the fridge!”

“Anything more likely?” Rylander responded, eliciting a couple laughs.

Brooke raised her hand. “My credit card has a magnetic strip.”

“Good. Anything else?” He looked at me.

“A compass?” I said.

“Correct, Clare. Very good.” He came around from behind his desk with something in his hands. “Now we’re going to do a little experiment showing the principles of magnetism. Let’s have Clare come up.”

I sighed inwardly. I hated getting up in front of the class with everyone staring at me. My only hope was that most of the kids were in daydream comas by now.

“And,” Rylander continued. “Let’s see.” His eyes scanned the room. “Justin. Please join Clare up here.”

Justin popped up from his seat, dashed up the aisle, and stood next to me. I gave him a
kill me now
look with my eyes and he grinned. He knew how much I hated stuff like this.

Rylander stood between us and opened his hands. In each one was a bar magnet. Justin grabbed one, and Rylander offered the other to me.

“Magnets are curious objects,” he said to the class. “What’s rare about them in the world of nature? Anyone?” After a few moments of silence, he gave up and continued. “They can wield power over other objects without touching them.”

He went on for a minute or two about the principles of magnetism, attraction, and repulsion. I stared at the ground and willed time to move faster.

“Okay, Clare and Justin, hold out your magnets.”

I tried to forget about the fact that twenty people were staring at me, by focusing on the magnet in Justin’s fingers.

“Try to push them together,” Rylander said.

Justin and I shuffled closer together and tried to make our magnets connect. It wouldn’t work. As much as I pushed it, an invisible force kept them apart.

“They don’t want to go together,” I said.

“Correct,” Rylander said. “They repel each other.”

I looked up into Justin’s eyes. They were sad, and I wondered if he was thinking about all the terrible things I’d said to him over the past few months. Things I only half meant. Things I said in anger when he’d repulsed me.

“Remember what I said earlier, class. Like poles repel. Unlike poles attract.”

I cast my eyes down.

“Justin, you can put your magnet on my desk and return to your seat.”

Justin brushed by me on his way, and the skin on our arms met for just a second. But it was enough to give me goose bumps. My skin tingled. It felt electric, from just that brief touch. I rubbed my arm as I watched Justin settle back in his seat, his hand gripping his own arm in the same spot. He smiled knowingly and I turned away.

“Clare,” Rylander said, regaining my attention. “Turn your
magnet around so the other pole is aimed at the magnet on my desk.”

I did it, glad that I was facing away from the class because I was sure I was blushing.

“Now slowly start to close the distance.”

I stepped closer to the desk and held my magnet out, inching my way across the space. Suddenly, Justin’s magnet snapped up and latched onto mine.

Rylander beamed. “See what happened? Attraction. Clare didn’t even have to put the magnets together herself. The other magnet was unstoppably attracted to hers and pulled over the distance.”

I put both magnets back on his desk, then turned to face the class.

Rylander continued, “The magnetic field is invisible, but it can be felt. Did you feel the force when the magnet was drawn to yours, Clare?”

Justin looked at me steadily from the back row.

“Yes,” I said softly. “I felt it.”

Perry remembered to come pick me up after school, a rare occasion these days for my suddenly hermit brother. I was surprised to find the car waiting and, honestly, a little disappointed. I was hoping to run into Mallory and walk home with her again. I wanted to make sure she was feeling better.

As soon as I got into his little black Civic, Perry shoved the car into gear. We lurched forward.

I planted my hand on the dash. “Easy there, lead foot.”

He glared at me. “The least you can do if I’m giving you a ride is not complain about my driving.”

“The least I can do?” I scoffed. “Because I’m interrupting you from doing … what exactly? Sitting in your room all day fiddling on the computer?” I knew half the time he was working on our website, but still. His attitude rankled me.

He stared at the road, his back almost forcefully straight.

After a minute of silence, I gave in. “I’m sorry, Perry. I’ve had a craptastic day. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

This was the part where old Perry would have apologized back and we’d punch each other in the arms and laugh, and the fight would be over as quickly as it began. But I was starting to think there was a new Perry.

And he was an asshat.

Instead of replying or at the very least accepting my apology, he gave me the silent treatment the rest of the way home. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. I thought I saw his eyes bulging out of his head, too.

We pulled into the driveway and he finally seemed to relax. I could almost feel the tension drain from him.

“Clare …”

Okay, here’s where we’d make up. I smiled and turned toward him.

“I don’t think I can pick you up from school anymore.”

Not what I was expecting. Was it really that much of a burden to take five minutes out of his day to pick me up? Anger bubbled up inside me.

“Fine,” I snapped, grabbing my book bag. “Don’t do me any favors!” I slammed the car door and stomped up the porch steps.

I stormed inside and slammed the door, practically in Perry’s face. It was immature of me, and I’d basically guaranteed that he’d never give me a ride anywhere ever again, but it felt good. I’d be getting my license soon enough. Then I’d just take the car to school since Perry never left the house anymore anyway.

Perry muttered some naughty words under his breath as he swung open the door, then slammed it shut again.

Mom came out of the reading room with a lit match in her fingers. “What is with all the door slamming?”

“Nothing,” I said, turning toward the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Perry simultaneously said while climbing the stairs.

“No, no,” Mom said, wagging a finger. She blew out the match. “Don’t disappear yet. We have a customer coming in a few minutes. She just called.”

Perry groaned loudly.

Mom glowered at him, and he shrank back. Yeah, most of the time, she looked like a harmless little hippie, but Mom’s glower could make a clam shuck itself.

“Need I remind you that these appointments pay for all the food you gobble up and the Internet connection you’re constantly using?” she said.

“I know,” he said, and plodded toward the reading room as if he were walking down death row.

I followed him in, less dramatically.

We spent more time on the upkeep and cleaning of the reading room than any other part of the house. It was also the only room that wasn’t modernized. From the intricate molding to the oak fireplace, it looked historic. Freshly painted, but historic.

Mom pulled the red velvet drapes closed, and I helped finish lighting the votive candles. Perry kept his head down on the long table.

“So who is it?” I asked.

Mom fiddled with the volume on the New Age music. She preferred it to be very soft, almost unnoticeable. “First-time customer. She didn’t leave a name.”

The doorbell rang.

“Here she is!” Mom said excitedly. She loved new customers in the off-season. Mostly for their potential of becoming regular customers.

I watched the woman as she walked with Mom from the entryway. She wore nice dress pants, but they were creased, and her white blouse was misbuttoned. Her hair had that finger-in-the-electrical-socket kind of look. Even my bottle of Frizz-Ease couldn’t touch that mess.