2 Empath (11 page)

“Hey, girl!” Kylee chirped, joining me at the guacamole table. “Is this a fun one, or what? Do you
see
Tara?”

I nodded as I finished swallowing a mouthful of chips. “Listen, Kylee, when did your grandmother say she would call again? I’ve
got
to shut this empath thing off!”

She threw me a puzzled look. “Really? Like, totally off? But why?”

Because, despite her saying about a thousand times that she forgives you for stealing her boyfriend freshman year, I know now that Maddie Silverman still hates your guts. And I really wish I didn’t.

“Because it’s driving me nuts,” I answered. “There are some emotions that people are better off keeping to themselves, you know?”

Her eyes gleamed. “Like
what?”

I shook my head. “Just let me know as soon as you hear anything, okay?”

“Will do,” she answered cheerfully. “Oh, look! Bryan is calling me over again!”

She sailed off into the crowd, and I dipped another chip into the guacamole.
Calling you, indeed,
I thought ruefully, remembering how Bryan’s “emotions” regarding the new Tara had nearly burned a hole in my back every time I had accidentally stepped between them. Too bad the guy was not only an operator, but an all-around, first-class jerk — something it didn’t take empathic abilities to pick up on.

I made a mental note to chaperone Tara home tonight.

A group of hungry-looking people approached the food table, and I reluctantly gave up my spot by the chips and dip. As I stepped away, I was struck by a sudden feeling of melancholy. I looked around, wondering if I was sensing someone else nearby. But I didn’t see any likely suspects — living or dead. This time, the feeling was my own.

I sighed. Everyone else’s good spirits had kept mine up so far, but left to myself, I was short on cheer. I might as well face it: I missed Zane. Despite knowing better and constantly warning myself to cut it out, I couldn’t help daydreaming all spring about how much fun we could have together at prom. He was such a fabulous dancer — untrained, but with natural talent. We could rock out like no one else.

But it was more than that. Even if he came in a wheelchair with his leg in a cast, I would have fun just being with him. Laughing with him, enjoying his killer smile…

Missing him was seriously painful.

Kylee and Tara had urged me to go for it and just invite him. “What could it hurt?” they had asked. What they didn’t know was how many times I had already hinted to Zane in texts — and not at all subtly — that I would be happy to road-trip out to visit him in California. It would have required no effort on his part. I had money saved up. But every time I had mentioned the possibility, he had deftly made a joke of it, or twisted my meaning, or changed the subject. He didn’t
want
me to come.

I wasn’t sure why, when everything else he texted was so reassuring. He never left any doubt that he wanted to see me again, but in his mind that clearly didn’t mean
now
— it only meant at some unspecified point in the future, and in Oahu. I still had no idea exactly what his injuries were, or how quickly he was recovering from them, because his few texts on that topic were intentionally vague. So how could I ask him to travel to Wyoming, when he obviously wasn’t well, just to indulge me with a stupid high school dance?

I couldn’t. So I hadn’t. End of story.

I wound my way back around to the table where we’d left our bags and pulled out my phone. There was no point in pretending I wasn’t checking for a message from Zane, since pretty much everyone else I knew was either in the room with me or knew it was prom and was leaving me alone. There wouldn’t be any messages. But I had to check…

I had missed a call.

A call from Zane!

My hands fumbled so badly I dropped the phone on the tabletop with a clatter. Luckily the music was so loud and the room so busy that no one noticed.

Chill, girl!

I picked up the phone again. He had called ten minutes ago. It was only the second time he had actually called me, ever. He hadn’t left a voice mail message. There was no text. Should I call him back?

The phone vibrated in my hand.

I dropped it again.

Breathe!

In one motion I swooped up the phone, hit answer, and sailed away from the noise of the music toward the relative quiet of the alcove by the locker rooms that was designated as a “cell phone area.” That had been Kylee’s idea. The girl was brilliant.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kali!” The sound of his voice sent a shudder through me. He sounded so full of energy, so alive… so excited. “I’ve got something I want you to hear. You ready?”

I hustled toward the farthest corner and covered my other ear. “Sure.”

I strained to listen over the drumming bass beat. At first, I heard nothing. Then it came through loud and clear.
A rooster crowing.

A pleasant warmth flushed my face. I knew that sound.

He was in Oahu!

“Did you hear it?” he asked brightly. “There are, like, three hens and a rooster right outside my window! Guess where I am.”

I laughed. “Where else would you go to find wild chickens but Hawaii?”

“Ding ding ding!” he said, imitating a bell. “Where in Hawaii?”

“Haleiwa?” I guessed, naming the small town on the North Shore where I’d nearly tripped over a chicken myself.

“Almost,” he conceded. “I’m in a little apartment just off Kaunala Beach, near Backyards. You know where that is?”

My smile broadened. I did know. Backyards was a surf break. He had taken me there. “Just north of Sunset Beach!”

“Awesome!” he praised, obviously pleased.

“You have an apartment?”

He laughed. “Well, that’s probably not quite the right word for it. It’s more of a room. Tacked onto the side of a rental cottage. It’s got a bathroom about four feet square, a mini stove and fridge, and some furniture that looks like somebody picked it up off the curb on trash day. But it’s livable. And the location is amazing. I can
walk
to Backyards. And once I get a bike, I can be at the Pipe in, like, three minutes!”

He sounded like his old self again — talking about surf breaks like a kid talks about Christmas. And he was sharing his excitement with
me.
“Zane, that’s fabulous!” I gushed.

He went silent for a couple beats. “Hey, what’s all that noise?” he asked. “You at a party?”

I tensed. “Kind of. It’s the junior/senior prom.”

He was silent another moment. “Oh, wow,” he said, sounding a little deflated. “Sorry. I didn’t know I was interrupting the big event.”

“You’re not!” I said quickly. “I needed something to get me away from the guacamole dip, anyway.”

More silence. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I couldn’t bear for him to misunderstand.

Honesty, Kali.

“The truth is,” I blurted. “I really wanted to invite you to come, but I was afraid you would say no. I didn’t know if you felt up to traveling so far… and besides, you said you’d see me in Hawaii.”

“Oh.”

Oh?
Was that it? Oh?

“But I really wish you were here,” I finished bravely. “I mean, not that you wouldn’t rather be in Hawaii, of course!”

“I wish I was there, too,” he said quietly. “I missed all my own dances in high school; I was always working. I guess I probably told you that already.” After another beat, he cleared his throat and his voice became cheerful again. “So did I brag to you before about what an awesome dancer I am?”

I smirked. “Actually, you did. And I didn’t believe you. Until I saw you in action.”

“You saw me dance?” he said skeptically. “When?”

Awkward.
When I thought he was still unconscious, I’d given him a pretty good rundown of all the fun we’d had together on the North Shore. But of course I’d left a few things out. Like the fact that I’d gone to Frederick High School’s “Spring Fling” with another date. “It was a dance at the school in Honolulu that I’ll be going to next year,” I explained. “And yes, you are an amazing dancer.” A sudden mental image made me smile. “Think you can still do an arabesque on a moving shortboard?”

“Um…” he answered uncertainly, “that’s not exactly the kind of dancing I was talking about. What’s an arabesque, again?”

“Never mind,” I laughed. “How about I show you when I get there?”

“Can’t wait,” he said immediately. “Listen, Kali…”

“Yeah?”

“I shouldn’t bother you when you’re on a date. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“I’m not on a date. I came with Kylee and Tara. And I promise you, neither one of them is missing me in the slightest.”

I couldn’t hear anything. But I imagined him smiling.

“Send me a pic!” he insisted, his voice jovial again. “You talk about those two so much, it’ll be nice to have some faces to put with the names.”

“Hang on a minute.” I flipped through the series of pictures my mother had taken on my camera before we left the house. I picked the one where my hair looked the least like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket, and hit send.

“Okay, done.” Did I dare? The fact that I didn’t have a single picture of him had caused me no small amount of grief in the endless months since I’d last seen him. I never thought to take a picture of a semi-transparent wraith (would he even show up?) and it seemed beyond crass to whip out my phone and capture a shot of him while he lay in a hospital bed. All I had to look at was one low-res pic from his ninth grade swim team that I’d pulled off the internet (in which, despite his age, he looked totally hot). “Now it’s your turn,” I dared.

“Fine,” he answered. I heard a series of muffled noises, then a ringtone on his end. He whistled. “Wow,” he said in a deadpan. “Remind me, when I’m running the world, not to hire any guy who went to high school in Cheyenne, Wyoming.”

My eyebrows rose. “And why not?”

“Because they must all be complete morons. How could they let the three of you get to prom without dates?
The incompetence! Boggles the mind.”

“Um… thanks for that,” I said with a chuckle. “Kylee had a date, but — well, it’s kind of a long story.” My phone beeped. I pulled it away from my ear and saw that I had received a picture. I opened it eagerly. Then I groaned out loud.

“Zane!” I fumed. “This is a freakin’
chicken!”

He cracked up laughing. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No!”

“So come to Oahu,” he said smoothly. “When are you moving?”

I gave him the latest date range; we wouldn’t know the exact day for a couple weeks yet.

“That ought to be enough time,” he responded.

“Enough time for what?”

A beat. “Nothing. Kylee’s the brunette, right?”

“Yep. How’d you guess?”

“She looks like a Kylee. And Tara’s the blonde.”

“That’s right.” I suddenly wished I hadn’t sent the picture. How good could I possibly look standing next to the two of them?

“I’m sorry I’m not there, Kali,” he said with sudden seriousness. The regret in his voice made my heart melt. “I didn’t even think about your having a prom this spring. But of course you would.”

“It’s okay,” I managed, my eyes threatening to tear. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He chuckled sadly. “You really do suck at lying, you know that?”

I laughed. “Yeah. So I hear.”

“So if you’re really not busy at the moment,” he asked. “Tell me, what’s a prom like, anyway? Are Kylee and Tara having fun with the blind idiot guys? Is there a DJ or a band? I’ve always wondered what I missed. You’re a good storyteller. Take me there.”

I imagined him in the perfect tux, his blond curls contrasting sharply with a tailored black jacket and crisp white shirt, his green eyes sparkling as he danced…

Frederick High School, Honolulu, Hawaii. Senior prom. One year from now.

I
would
make it happen.

“Well,” I began with enthusiasm, settling myself into a folding chair in the corner. “Proms always have a theme, for one thing. This one’s is ‘Night in Hollywood…’”

I took him through the whole evening, starting with Tara’s makeover and the effect of our grand entrance. I remembered how easy he’d always been to talk to. In Oahu, I figured it was because he was already dead and I felt like I had nothing to lose… but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was because he was a good listener, and he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Whatever the reason, I found myself sharing way more than strictly necessary. Like, for instance, the whole guy-lust-empath thing.

“Wait a minute,” he interrupted. “Let me get this straight. You’re getting this vibe from every guy you dance with… and you’re surprised by this, why?”

I bit my lip. How exactly had I stumbled into this minefield? Just because I was as comfortable talking to him as I was to Tara or Kylee didn’t mean I could forget he was a guy!

“You don’t understand,” I argued uncertainly. “These aren’t guys who actually
like
me — it’s not like we’re dating or anything. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. And?”

He was confusing me. “And?”

He chuckled. “Well, what emotions would you expect them to feel when they’re watching a girl as gorgeous as you move around in a dress like that? Puzzled? Sleepy? Morose?”

“No!” It sounded stupid, now. “But just… I don’t know! Exhilarated by the music, maybe?”

He laughed out loud. “They’re
guys,
Kali. They can’t help themselves; it doesn’t matter who you are or what your relationship is. It’s a reaction. You can’t blame them for having basic instincts. Now how they
act
— that’s a different story. Do girls really not know this stuff?”

I couldn’t help but think it was better if we didn’t. Lucas’s primal fantasies could stay in his own head, thank you very much.

I had to turn this empath thing
off,
ASAP!

“Maybe it’s just as well,” Zane proclaimed. “The guys in Cheyenne clearly don’t deserve your understanding. In fact, I take back my previous defense. They’re sexist barbarians, all of them.”