“What do you want?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for the other day. I’ve thought a lot about us and I’m moving on, for good.” She sounds sincere. “But I thought we should try to be friends. There’s no reason for us to hate each other.”
I look at her trying to read between the lines. Lindsay is a good liar. She uses her looks to her advantage—her curly blond hair and wide green eyes make her look like an angel. I know better than that; I should.
“I’m glad you came to your senses.” I look her in the eyes, and to her credit, I don’t see even a trace of anger.
“Yeah,” she smiles faintly. “Me, too. I’ll see you around, Adam.” I let her give me a light hug and she heads back inside, leaving me to wonder what her true intentions are.
* * *
I toss and turn, unable to fall asleep. Finally, I drag myself out of bed to get a glass of milk. I walk in the kitchen, and I hear someone coming down the stairs. By the noise of flip-flops hitting the hard wood, I know it’s Mom. She always lets her shoes flap annoyingly on the stairs.
“Adam, is that you?” She whispers.
“Yeah, just getting a glass of milk.”
“Where were you this evening?” she says, walking into the kitchen. “I expect you to be home tomorrow for dinner. We’re having our neighbors over, and I would like you to meet their daughter. She’ll be going to your school and she doesn’t know anyone in town.”
“Okay, but I’ll be leaving early. I have a party to go to.”
I head back to my bedroom. I think Mom mumbled something else, but I don’t feel like sticking around to find out what.
Tomorrow will be interesting. This girl won’t be happy to see me. I was kind of a jerk to her, and she knows it. In my defense, I was up on the rocks at the lake reading a book when I saw her approaching, walking down on the dock, and taking her clothes off. For a moment, I thought she was going to go skinny-dipping. She stayed in the water for a long time, floating. Hardly moving. At some point, I thought she was dead. I was surprised that she could stay in the water that long, because normally I can’t get my friends to even stick a toe in it.
When I saw her swimming back to the dock, I made my way over. I wanted to introduce myself, but I ended up being rude instead. Sometimes I can’t help it. It’s my way to warn people to stay away from me. It’s my way of preventing others from seeing right through me.
When I got close, she was trying to put her shorts on over her wet body and they got stuck midway. It was kind of funny, so I made a joke; a stupid joke, I guess. I felt anger surfacing from her.
When there is hostility in the air, I feel it. I can control the strength of it, or even make it disappear, if I want to. But today at the lake, I couldn’t get it to work with Livia. I could tell she was mad at me for staring at her. At that point, I tried to control her mood and calm her down, but it didn’t work.
That’s never happened before.
I discovered that I could control people’s anger when I was in fourth grade, at my first school fight. A boy named Mason got pissed off at me when he tripped over my foot and dropped his lunch tray on the floor. Everyone laughed at him and he quickly grew embarrassed. His face got red, I could feel his anger growing, and he looked at me as if it were my fault. He was about to jump at my throat. I was nervous because he was way bigger than I was, so I kept on wishing he’d calm down.
I thought that again and again, and suddenly, he just sat down and forgot all about me. Ever since then, I’ve practiced harnessing the skill, and now I even use it to calm my parents down when they are having an argument.
Controlling anger is one of the strange abilities I have. I say strange because I have no clue how I’m capable of these things. Kyle is the only person that knows about them. I told him about the mood control when we were kids and he thought it was super cool and promised to keep it a secret. After that, every three or four years, close to my birthday, I develop a new ability and I tell Kyle about it.
He has done some research online, and the best he could do was say that I’m a mutant or an alien. We laughed about that for weeks. But since Lindsay messed everything up, there hasn’t been any of that between us. I haven’t talked to him for the past two months, and it sucks not having him around.
Since I can’t sleep, I open my laptop and check for anything new on Facebook. I can’t hold back the nagging curiosity in the back of my head, so I type Livia Berwick in the search tab. She is here; I open her page, which she didn’t bother to make private. Her profile still says she lives in Manhattan, goes to Loyola High School, and likes hiking, swimming, riding, and running. One thing catches my attention—her birthday is the same as mine: November fifteenth of the same year. I wonder what time was she born.
I browse her pictures, she’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such bright blue eyes before. It’s a unique shade that stands out beneath her eyelashes and long black hair.
There are some pictures of her and a guy named John Sullivan. He tagged the pictures on her page. He could be the boyfriend she left behind. He’s kissing her cheek, not her lips, but it looks intimate. At least that should keep me from fantasizing about a girl who is totally out of my league.
I close my laptop, turn the lights off, and stuff my head in my pillow. I feel my body drifting off to sleep, the memory of those big blue eyes stuck in my head.
5 Livia
I wake up with the sun shining on my face. I didn’t close the curtains, and I didn’t take a shower before falling asleep last night. I get up to go to the bathroom, grabbing my phone off my nightstand. No missed calls. I thought Uncle Henry would have called me back. Maybe Dad didn’t tell him about our conversation last night. I take a second look on my phone: it reads five o’clock in the morning, and yet the sun is well up and bright. Sunrise here must come really early during the summer; after all, it doesn’t get dark before ten.
I shower and put on a tank top and jeans. I promised Dad I would take care of the horses and I don’t want to give him any additional reasons not to trust me. I take one last look in the mirror, pull my hair into a high ponytail, and head downstairs.
I brew a pot of coffee and set the breakfast table. Mom will appreciate a little help and fresh coffee when she gets up. After last night, I would say I owe it to her.
I walk outside to the barn and I feel the strong wind hitting my face. I close my eyes, breathing in the early morning smell. It’s going to be another sunny day, windy, but pleasant. When I reach the front of the barn, I notice the door is slightly open. The wind must have blown it open. I step inside and I hear a husky voice, the same voice from the lake yesterday, and I freeze—Adam. What is he doing here?
I try to pay attention to what he is saying, but he has stopped talking. I hope he hasn’t noticed me yet. My mind quickly begins to reconsider, and I’m thinking I should just leave.
As I turn around to make my way out, I trip over a horse’s saddle that is lying on the floor. I reach for the wall to steady myself, but I accidentally grab a metal broom. I land on my butt on the ground, taking the broom down with me with a massive bang.