Out of My Mind (19 page)

“How are you gonna manage that?”

“I’ll start with simple deduction. If he’s going to torch Cooper’s art room it would have to be when no one is at school, right? Greg doesn’t want to get caught.”

“Which leaves nights and weekends.”

“But sometimes there’s stuff going on at night and on weekends.”

“I’ll check the building schedule on the website to figure out when it’s empty,” he offers.

“In the meantime I guess I’ll keep up the charming act with Greg.”

J.D.’s face hardens. “You mean you’re going to keep kissing him?”

“If I have to.”

He looks at me like I’m out of my mind. I don’t appreciate the reminder.

“If he likes me, he’ll listen to me,” I explain. “Maybe I can charm him out of setting the school on fire.”

“What do you have to do to make him like you?”

“Just be nice, I guess. Stroke his ego.”

“What if that isn’t enough?”

“Meaning what?”

“Are you going to sleep with him?”

Nausea rumbles through my stomach. He’s accusing me of being a slut. I roll away and sit up on the other side of the bed. “Get out of my room.”

“What?” he says, sounding confused.

Of course he’s confused. It’s another bi-polar moment with Catherine Westfield. One minute I’m flirty and fun, the next I’m cold and bitchy.

“Catherine?”

I don’t answer. I just want him gone. I’m not a slut. I’m a nice girl, a nice girl who’s been fantasizing about doing more with J.D. Pratt than just kissing him.

Busted
.

J.D. climbs off the bed and kneels in front of me. “What did I say?”

“That I’m a slut,” I blurt out.

“No, Catherine.” He takes my hands in his. “I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant was…I couldn’t stand it if Hoffman had you like that.”

“Me neither.” I look up. “Why did you even think I’d go there?” I study his expression as he glances down at our hands. He gently strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.

“You heard about me attacking Greg in the locker room?”

“Yeah.”

“He was bragging about nailing you.”

“What!”

“Catherine—”

“I’d never do that,” I protest, searching his eyes, wanting to make sure he believes me. “I’d never give it away without a long-term commitment, and high school is too young for that kind of comm…comm…”

Light bursts flash behind my eyes. Just before I fall I make the connection that HULU’s are triggered by intense emotions: rage, frustration…

Love.

And I’m falling hard.

J.D. calls my name. His desperate voice sounds so far away. I reach out but can’t see him.

Instead, I’m in a greenbelt and a circle of fire surrounds me. J.D. lays a few feet away on the damp ground, unconscious. I scramble over to him; touch his cheek. His skin is so cold.

“J.D.!” I shake his shoulders.

The fire grows hotter. There’s no way out.

Through the flames I see her, the doe with the round, sad eyes.

The crackling snaps louder.

“Catherine!”

“Come on, Catherine, wake up,” J.D. pleaded. She was gone, lost in her own head. He knew she hated being sucked into that terrifying place.

It was his fault. He shouldn’t have told her what Greg said about nailing her.

Her violet eyes glazed over like a zombie’s. She was in hell. She panted like a sprinter and whispered J.D.’s name over and over again.

“Catherine?” her mom called from downstairs.

J.D. snapped his head around. Her parents were home already? Footsteps creaked on the staircase. They were coming up to check on their daughter.

J.D. was a dead man.

He couldn’t abandon Catherine like this, so lost and vulnerable.

“Catherine, honey?” Her mom’s voice was getting closer.

J.D. lowered her gently on the bed and kissed her cheek. He flicked off the light, scrambled beneath the bed and pulled his knees to his chest. A position he’d perfected from childhood.

Dad would fly into a rage and everyone would scatter. Mom would tell J.D. and his brother to hide under the bed or in the closet. She’d say, “Curl up like a Roly-poly bug.”

Run and hide. Don’t make a sound.

As J.D. cowered beneath Catherine’s bed, both of them so utterly defenseless against forces beyond their control, anger made him want to hit something.

His mom should have protected her children. She should have called someone for help or divorced dad.

Instead she ran.

The bedroom door squeaked opened. “Honey?”

Catherine didn’t answer.

“Catherine?”

The light snapped on and her mom walked to the bed. J.D. eyed her fancy black shoes with a shiny bow on the top. He held his breath and willed himself invisible. At least her dad hadn’t come upstairs. Yet.

“Mom?” Catherine said in a weak voice.

He sighed with relief. She’d pulled herself out of the HULU.

“I forgot my glasses,” her mom said, “can’t read the menu without them.”

The bed shifted as Catherine put her feet on the floor. Her toes were bare and small and adorable.

“Where’s J.D.?” Catherine asked.

He held his breath.

“J.D.?” her mom repeated.

“There was fire and…” Catherine’s voice trailed off.

“Shhh. Honey, you had a nightmare.” Her mom sat on the bed next to Catherine. “That boy can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.”

Her mom rocked Catherine back and forth, the bed squeaking in sync with their motion. J.D. closed his eyes and exhaled.

“I’ll tell your father we should skip dinner tonight and stay home with you.”

“No!” Catherine jumped off the bed and padded across her room. “You haven’t had a night out in forever. I’m fine, just tired. Go have fun.”

“We could move you to a different room so you don’t have to see that boy’s house when you look out the window.”

“I wasn’t dreaming about him hurting me, Mom. I was dreaming that he was hurt.”

“Because of what we saw this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you hated him,” Mom said.

“Just go, okay?”

“I don’t think—”

“Stop already! I’m fine!”

The room went intensely quiet. Damn, it wasn’t going to be easy getting out of here if her parents decided to stay home.

“I’m sorry,” Catherine said. “I really want you guys to go out and have fun.”

Catherine’s mom got up and went to hug her daughter.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” her mom asked.

“Totally.”

“Honey? What’s that?”

Great, now what? Did she spot his black Vans beneath the bed?

Her mom approached the bed near J.D. and kneeled down. He was seconds away from being caught, dragged downstairs and blown to bits by her old man’s shotgun.

Heart racing, he held his breath.

Mrs. Westfield bent down…

And picked something up off the floor with polished fingernails. She was inches from him, yet totally oblivious to anything but what she held in her hand.

She straightened and J.D. allowed himself to breathe.

“What’s your Cheer pin doing on the floor?” Her mom asked.

“Must have fallen off when I changed.”

“You need to keep this in a safe place.”

J.D. heard something click shut.

“You promise to call if—”

“Mom,” Catherine warned.

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

A few minutes passed. J.D. focused on relaxing the muscles he’d clenched so tight that his body was trembling. He was so tired of being afraid.

“Bye, honey!” her mom called from downstairs.

“Bye!”

The front door closed.

“J.D.?” Catherine whispered.

He slipped out from under the bed. She was standing by the window, her hands pressed against her cheeks.

“Hey,” he said.

She rushed into his arms. “I thought you took off.”

“I couldn’t leave you like that.”

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. He glanced away not wanting to set off another HULU.

“Are you okay?” she said.

He refocused on her. “Am
I
okay? You went off into HULU land because of me.”

“I had a HULU because my brain is wonky from the accident.”

“Like I said, because of me.”

She let go of him and stepped back. J.D. figured she was agreeing with him.

“There’s no time for guilt or self pity.” She anxiously paced her room. “I just had a horrible HULU.”

“About what?”

“Being surrounded by fire in the woods.” She shuddered.

He grabbed her hand. “Hey, it’s okay, Cat.”

“Cat?” she questioned.

“You’re smart and sneaky like a cat,” he offered. The nickname suited her.

She glanced at their hands with an odd expression.

“What?” he said.

“I couldn’t stand if it you got hurt.”

He squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tough.”

She leaned forward and kissed him.

He couldn’t believe it at first. The kiss in the greenbelt was an impulse, something he couldn’t control because he cared about her.

More than he should.

But this… she leaned into him and her tongue tickled his lips. He was going to embarrass himself in a minute.

Breaking the kiss, he pulled her against his chest. “We need to focus, young lady.”

“I was focused.”

“On stopping Greg.”

“Hey, maybe your detective friend could help?”

“He can’t investigate a crime before it happens. Just promise me you won’t risk being alone with Hoffman.”

“I’ll try.”

“Catherine,” he said with warning in his voice.

“Okay, enough with the jealousy.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“You know it. Now it’s my turn to remind you to focus. We need to devise a plan to stop him.”

* * *

I wake up Sunday morning feeling hopeful for once. J.D. and I had spent two hours brainstorming, exchanging newly-created, secret e-mails and cell phone numbers so that no one would suspect we’re together.

Are we together? I’m not sure. J.D. feels like my boyfriend, but we can’t be seen in public or smile at each other at school or do any of the things normal couples do.

I’m hiding again, like I’ve been hiding my HULU’s, my struggles with school, and my constant battle with anxiety and cognitive function.

I don’t want to hide this secret or be ashamed about my feelings for J.D. I want to feel proud.

J.D. said being associated with him is like putting a bulls-eye on my back, that he’s a delinquent, and I’ll be labeled a loser right along with him.

But he’s not a loser. He’s proud and strong. He doesn’t want sympathy from anyone, nor would he ask for help with his abusive situation at home.

I roll over in bed and inhale J.D.’s scent lingering on my pillow. The guy totally captured my heart last night, which is ironic, maybe even twisted.

I don’t care.

He understands me and accepts me for who I am, right now, today. He doesn’t wish for the old me back, nor does he compare my behavior to the standards of the pre-accident Catherine.

I’m not sure how it happened, but I’ve forgiven him for the accident. We were both to blame: me for being in the street and J.D. for probably racing away from his abusive father.

I get it. Stuff happens.

And I’ve got the ability to see it before it does, maybe even change it.

He’s not going to like my temporary strategy to stop Greg: stick by his side so he can’t do anything violent, at least until we can find evidence.

What else can I do? No one would believe me if I accused Greg of planning to torch something. They’d add it to the list of my erratic behavior. Taylor doesn’t text as often as she did a week ago. I’m sure she senses something is different.

I’m different. I’m not the same girl they knew before.

Get over it, people
.

They can accept me or not accept me. I don’t care anymore because if I’m going to live a full life I need to work
with
my disability, not be ashamed of it.

Just like J.D. shouldn’t be ashamed of what’s going on in his house. My heart aches for him. How could a loving mother abandon her children like that?

“Catherine?” Mom says from the crack in the door.

“Yeah, I’m up.” I check the clock, 10:30.

Mom comes into my room wearing an odd expression on her face.

“You okay?” I ask, sitting up in bed.

“I’m fine.”

“You have a good time last night?”

“Very nice, yes,” she says.

“You’re acting weird,” I blurt out.

“Am I?” She shrugs and picks up a sweatshirt from the floor. “Dad and I are going into Seattle and would like you to join us.”

She was talking a little weird, too.

“I’ve got homework,” I say.

“It’ll just be a few hours. We need to talk about something and it’s a nice day for a drive.”

“Is she up?” Dad calls from downstairs.

“Yes, dear!” Mom shouts back.

Mom never shouts. Right now she sounds irritated, maybe even rattled.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask.

“Of course, sweetie.”

I don’t believe her.

“How soon can you be ready?” she asks with a bright smile.

“Half an hour?”

“Perfect.” She kisses me on the top of my head. “We’ll grab lunch and maybe stop by Pike Place Market.”

“What do we need to talk about?” I ask.

“Some family business.” She dismissively waves her hand and disappears into the hallway.

Family business usually means finances. Are we going to have to move? Scale down the house because of my medical bills?

I quell the panic rising in my chest. Leave the neighborhood? My school? J.D.?

“You don’t even know that’s what she wants to talk about,” I whisper.

I grab my cell and read a text from J.D.:
Get up lazy

I smile and write a response:
Have 2 go w rents. Txt u ltr

I hit Send and glance up. Dad is standing in the doorway.

“Who’s that?” he says.

“Taylor.”

He glances at my phone. He won’t demand to see it, will he? My heart pounds against my chest. If he finds out…