other for a moment, then he half smiled and picked up the folded paper. “This goes like this, I think,” he said, making a reverse fold to form the frog’s back leg.
I took it from his hand, pulse still hammering in my ears. “You make origami too?”
He shook his head. “No. But I’ve watched you do it for lifetimes.”
Rose. I placed the frog on the counter.
He squatted in front of my stool. “Lenzi. Please give soul sharing a try. Just once and I think you’ll understand. You can make a difference—a life and death, Heaven and Hell kind of difference. It’s an opportunity very few are privileged to have. One resolution—an easy one—and you’ll see what I mean.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Mom’s going to be home soon.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He stood up. “How about I pick you up after school?”
Staring into his pale eyes, I realized I might just be making the dumbest decision ever, but clearly there was something to this Speaker business—something bigger than me. I had to give it a try.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
THIRTEEN
R ain trailed in narrow rivulets down the classroom window. As always, Ms. Mueller, my history teacher, yabbered from her podium. Her voice droned on and on like a hive of bees. Bzzz.
All I could think about was last night, which made school seem insignificant. My time with Zak at the Last Concert Café had been incredible. My heart raced every time I thought about playing together onstage and how easy it was to be with him—how normal he made me feel.
And then there was Alden, who made me feel anything but normal. He fascinated me. The Speaker thing, though, gave me the creeps. “It’s a gift,” Alden had said. I shifted in my hard plastic chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. The cuts on my belly hurt again, and the stitches pulled when I moved.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
There were only fifteen minutes left, but the closer it got to when I’d see Alden, the slower the clock seemed to move. I doodled on the cover of my binder and killed time until the bell finally rang.
The social scene at the bank of lockers didn’t slow me down at all. I was the new girl and didn’t fit in—and the episode in the bathroom hadn’t helped. The other students talked about me, but not to me, which was probably my fault. I’d made no attempt to even be friendly. My mom had enrolled me in this snooty private school because my grades had dropped before we moved and she thought a lower student/teacher ratio would help.
My problems had nothing to do with student/teacher ratios.
Ignoring other students’ curious stares, I left everything in my locker, including my backpack. I wasn’t going to do homework anyway, so why bother? I slipped my jacket on over my purse so it would stay dry and headed to the front doors of the school. Before I made it outside, Zak texted telling me he’d had a great time last night. I replied that I’d had a blast and couldn’t wait to see him again. Grinning, I slipped my phone back under my jacket into my purse before braving the carpool line.
Rainy days were the worst. The line was always long, and it took more time for people to load into cars. The rain hammered on the corrugated aluminum overhang, drowning out everyone’s voices as they waited to dash to the cars pulling into the drive.
“Help me.” It didn’t drown out Bogeybaby, though.
Alden’s gray Audi pulled up in front of the covered area. “No. Go away!” I shouted at the ghost, shoving my way through the students to get to the front of the group. Alden got out and walked around the front of his car through the downpour to open my door. I sprinted through the cold, stinging rain and ducked into the car.
Drenched, Alden slipped into the driver’s seat and stared at my face for what seemed like an eternity.
“You feel troubled. You okay?” he asked.
Nodding was the only safe response. Why, I wondered, did being around Alden turn me into a
I took it from his hand, pulse still hammering in my ears. “You make origami too?”
He shook his head. “No. But I’ve watched you do it for lifetimes.”
Rose. I placed the frog on the counter.
He squatted in front of my stool. “Lenzi. Please give soul sharing a try. Just once and I think you’ll understand. You can make a difference—a life and death, Heaven and Hell kind of difference. It’s an opportunity very few are privileged to have. One resolution—an easy one—and you’ll see what I mean.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Mom’s going to be home soon.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He stood up. “How about I pick you up after school?”
Staring into his pale eyes, I realized I might just be making the dumbest decision ever, but clearly there was something to this Speaker business—something bigger than me. I had to give it a try.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
THIRTEEN
R ain trailed in narrow rivulets down the classroom window. As always, Ms. Mueller, my history teacher, yabbered from her podium. Her voice droned on and on like a hive of bees. Bzzz.
All I could think about was last night, which made school seem insignificant. My time with Zak at the Last Concert Café had been incredible. My heart raced every time I thought about playing together onstage and how easy it was to be with him—how normal he made me feel.
And then there was Alden, who made me feel anything but normal. He fascinated me. The Speaker thing, though, gave me the creeps. “It’s a gift,” Alden had said. I shifted in my hard plastic chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. The cuts on my belly hurt again, and the stitches pulled when I moved.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
There were only fifteen minutes left, but the closer it got to when I’d see Alden, the slower the clock seemed to move. I doodled on the cover of my binder and killed time until the bell finally rang.
The social scene at the bank of lockers didn’t slow me down at all. I was the new girl and didn’t fit in—and the episode in the bathroom hadn’t helped. The other students talked about me, but not to me, which was probably my fault. I’d made no attempt to even be friendly. My mom had enrolled me in this snooty private school because my grades had dropped before we moved and she thought a lower student/teacher ratio would help.
My problems had nothing to do with student/teacher ratios.
Ignoring other students’ curious stares, I left everything in my locker, including my backpack. I wasn’t going to do homework anyway, so why bother? I slipped my jacket on over my purse so it would stay dry and headed to the front doors of the school. Before I made it outside, Zak texted telling me he’d had a great time last night. I replied that I’d had a blast and couldn’t wait to see him again. Grinning, I slipped my phone back under my jacket into my purse before braving the carpool line.
Rainy days were the worst. The line was always long, and it took more time for people to load into cars. The rain hammered on the corrugated aluminum overhang, drowning out everyone’s voices as they waited to dash to the cars pulling into the drive.
“Help me.” It didn’t drown out Bogeybaby, though.
Alden’s gray Audi pulled up in front of the covered area. “No. Go away!” I shouted at the ghost, shoving my way through the students to get to the front of the group. Alden got out and walked around the front of his car through the downpour to open my door. I sprinted through the cold, stinging rain and ducked into the car.
Drenched, Alden slipped into the driver’s seat and stared at my face for what seemed like an eternity.
“You feel troubled. You okay?” he asked.
Nodding was the only safe response. Why, I wondered, did being around Alden turn me into a
Similar Books
