midterm.
"Mrs. Moorehead, I'm quite impressed with what I've seen from your daughter. Based on our conversations, I believe she does possess some psychic abilities. However, I'd like to schedule a full physical and a review with a neurologist. And I think it would be best for her to have a CT scan to rule out any pressure on the brain."
"Of course, Doctor," Mom says.
Here I thought I'd just proven myself. Great.
Let the poking and prodding begin.
Chapter Eight
On Monday, Becca Asiaf jumps me the moment I step foot into the cafeteria for lunch. "You've heard, right?"
"Heard what?"
Celia's next to me and Becca glares hard, then growls, "You didn't tell her?"
"Tell me what?"
"I haven't really, like, had a chance," Celia says defensively.
I look back and forth between the two girls, confused as all get-out. "What's going on here?"
Taylor bounds into the cafeteria, her ponytail swaying like Indiana Jones's whip. "Oh my God, y'all! Courtney's done it this time! I can't believe her."
"Time out on the floor," I say emphatically. "What. Is. Going. On?"
Taylor's eyes get wide as she stares at Celia and Becca. "Y'all didn't tell her yet?"
Grabbing a fistful of her own hair, Celia groans. "What am I, nine-one-one?"
"Four-one-one, you mean." Becca takes charge. "Sit down, Kendall. You gotta hear this."
Jesus in the garden. What now? What more do I have to take, after spending all day Saturday with the psychiatrist and then being in the car with my mother, who didn't believe what he'd told her? That Kendall "does possess some psychic abilities." She hadn't wanted to hear that. She won't be convinced until all reports are in, which entails another visit to Atlanta. Sunday was church, laundry, working on my history paper, and talking to Jason over IM. I haven't really steeled myself for any additional melodrama at Radisson High School, although that's terribly naive of me.
"Can I at least get some food first? I think my blood sugar is in the negative numbers." My stomach groans to back me up.
Becca slides her unopened Diet Coke across the table. "This'll have to do for now. We've got problems."
I can't take any more. "You guys! What's going on?"
Taylor reaches her tanned hand over and lightly scratches me with her carnation pink fingernails. "Kendall. You're not the only psychic in town anymore."
Chuckling, I say, "I know. There's Loreen too."
Becca flattens her lips, ruby red against her pale white skin and jet-black hair. "No, she's talking about that royal bitch Courtney Langdon."
"What? That's a joke"
When all three of my friends just stare at me, I flick open the soda and down three deep sips, hoping to quench the sudden fiery sensation burning my esophagus. I squelch the inevitable burp and nod at Becca to continue.
She leans her elbows onto the table as if to hide the conversation from others. "I saw her in the bathroom this morningânot throwing up her corn flakes, for onceâand she was holding court with a bunch of freshman and sophomore girls. She was tellin' them that she'd read this book over the weekend on opening yourself up, and now she's coming into her own 'psychic awakening.' That anyone can do it; we all possess the ability. We just have to tune in to it and recognize it, like she's done."
"Dear God," I say with a long sigh, knowing exactly what book she's referring to. The book I asked her to read so she'd understand
me
more and not lash out with such hatred. So
I
created this monster, eh?
"Keep going," Taylor says to Becca.
"I'm going, I'm going! So anyway," she continues," Courtney was saying that she's suddenly getting messages from a spirit guide. A great-grandmother of hers or something or other. Andâget thisâthe messages are coming to her through her Bluetooth."
"Her phone?" I don't freakin' believe this.
Celia snorts derisively. "It's true that cell phones work on a certain frequency and might be able to pick up voices not discernible by the human ear, but it's highly
"Mrs. Moorehead, I'm quite impressed with what I've seen from your daughter. Based on our conversations, I believe she does possess some psychic abilities. However, I'd like to schedule a full physical and a review with a neurologist. And I think it would be best for her to have a CT scan to rule out any pressure on the brain."
"Of course, Doctor," Mom says.
Here I thought I'd just proven myself. Great.
Let the poking and prodding begin.
Chapter Eight
On Monday, Becca Asiaf jumps me the moment I step foot into the cafeteria for lunch. "You've heard, right?"
"Heard what?"
Celia's next to me and Becca glares hard, then growls, "You didn't tell her?"
"Tell me what?"
"I haven't really, like, had a chance," Celia says defensively.
I look back and forth between the two girls, confused as all get-out. "What's going on here?"
Taylor bounds into the cafeteria, her ponytail swaying like Indiana Jones's whip. "Oh my God, y'all! Courtney's done it this time! I can't believe her."
"Time out on the floor," I say emphatically. "What. Is. Going. On?"
Taylor's eyes get wide as she stares at Celia and Becca. "Y'all didn't tell her yet?"
Grabbing a fistful of her own hair, Celia groans. "What am I, nine-one-one?"
"Four-one-one, you mean." Becca takes charge. "Sit down, Kendall. You gotta hear this."
Jesus in the garden. What now? What more do I have to take, after spending all day Saturday with the psychiatrist and then being in the car with my mother, who didn't believe what he'd told her? That Kendall "does possess some psychic abilities." She hadn't wanted to hear that. She won't be convinced until all reports are in, which entails another visit to Atlanta. Sunday was church, laundry, working on my history paper, and talking to Jason over IM. I haven't really steeled myself for any additional melodrama at Radisson High School, although that's terribly naive of me.
"Can I at least get some food first? I think my blood sugar is in the negative numbers." My stomach groans to back me up.
Becca slides her unopened Diet Coke across the table. "This'll have to do for now. We've got problems."
I can't take any more. "You guys! What's going on?"
Taylor reaches her tanned hand over and lightly scratches me with her carnation pink fingernails. "Kendall. You're not the only psychic in town anymore."
Chuckling, I say, "I know. There's Loreen too."
Becca flattens her lips, ruby red against her pale white skin and jet-black hair. "No, she's talking about that royal bitch Courtney Langdon."
"What? That's a joke"
When all three of my friends just stare at me, I flick open the soda and down three deep sips, hoping to quench the sudden fiery sensation burning my esophagus. I squelch the inevitable burp and nod at Becca to continue.
She leans her elbows onto the table as if to hide the conversation from others. "I saw her in the bathroom this morningânot throwing up her corn flakes, for onceâand she was holding court with a bunch of freshman and sophomore girls. She was tellin' them that she'd read this book over the weekend on opening yourself up, and now she's coming into her own 'psychic awakening.' That anyone can do it; we all possess the ability. We just have to tune in to it and recognize it, like she's done."
"Dear God," I say with a long sigh, knowing exactly what book she's referring to. The book I asked her to read so she'd understand
me
more and not lash out with such hatred. So
I
created this monster, eh?
"Keep going," Taylor says to Becca.
"I'm going, I'm going! So anyway," she continues," Courtney was saying that she's suddenly getting messages from a spirit guide. A great-grandmother of hers or something or other. Andâget thisâthe messages are coming to her through her Bluetooth."
"Her phone?" I don't freakin' believe this.
Celia snorts derisively. "It's true that cell phones work on a certain frequency and might be able to pick up voices not discernible by the human ear, but it's highly
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