Haunted (2 page)

“Once,” she interrupted. “People I’ve barely said hi to came once.”

He clicked his teeth together nervously. She’d seen him do the same thing in class when he got called on and
didn’t know the answer. Rae’s heart returned to its usual place in her chest, and the pounding eased up, leaving her
feeling numb and hollowed out.

“Rae, it’s just that…” Marcus’s words trailed off.

Before he could start clicking again, Rae jumped in. “Whatever, Marcus. Go find Dori.” She turned and walked
away. When she reached the cafeteria’s double doors, she used her shoulder to open the closest one and slipped
inside. She didn’t want to hear anyone else’s thoughts right now. Her own were more than enough.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and nearly jumped, then spun around.

“Yogurt?” Lea Dessin asked.

Rae’s shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t her would-be killer-just the best friend who’d totally abandoned her.

“Yogurt,” Rae agreed. She didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

Lea led the way over to the fro-yo machines, her sleek black hair shining under the fluorescent lights.

This felt so normal. But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Because now Lea was afraid of Rae. She never said it, of course. And she didn’t even really act like it.

But Rae knew it was true. Fingerprints didn’t lie.

“Do you want to sit?” Lea jerked her chin toward the usual table-correction, what used to be the usual table-as she
made her fro-yo sculpture.

She’s trying, Rae thought. Even though she’s scared of me, she’s trying.

“Could we maybe be adventurous and-”

“Sit someplace else?” Lea finished for her, still sounding just a little too peppy. Clearly overcompensating, Rae
decided as Lea moved out of the way so Rae could get to the frozen yogurt machine.

“Just for today,” Rae answered, grabbing a cup and a spoon-new, no prints. She didn’t want Lea to think she was
going to have to spend all year babysitting her freaky used-to-be best friend. But for this one day it would be so nice
just to sit with someone and look normal, a normal girl with a normal friend.

No psi power. No streak of insanity. No one out to kill her.

Rae took a napkin out of the metal holder and used it to pull down the handle. “It’s always sticky,” she explained to
Lea as the yogurt spiraled into the cup. God, she wouldn’t want to see Lea’s expression if she heard the truth.

See, if I touch the handle after you touched it, I’ll know your thoughts. And really, I’d rather not.

Because you deserve some privacy. And I deserve not to hear how creepy you think I am.

Lea was scared enough already. Hearing the truth would probably send her to the funny farm. Ha ha.

Hee hee.

“There’s a place over there.” Lea nodded at a couple of empty seats that were about halfway across the room from
the usual table.

“Looks good,” Rae answered, leading the way.

She took a seat, and Lea sat down across from her.

Now what? Rae thought. What am I supposed to say?

Something non-frightening. Something normal. But what? “So, do you already have a ton of homework?

I’m buried,” Rae said. Pathetic. But at least it was words.

“Yeah, me too.” Lea shot a glance over Rae’s shoulder.

What is she looking at? Rae wondered. Then she got it. Lea was looking at the table, watching Jackie and Vince
and Marcus and Dori.

Rae got an image in her head of a massive steel door swinging shut, separating her old life-her pre-hospital, pre-fingerprint power life-from her new life. Lea was on one side. Lea and Marcus and Vince and Jackie and all Rae’s old
friends. And Rae was on the other. All alone.

Don’t get all soap opera, she told herself. You’re not alone. Dad’s on your side of the door. And… and Anthony
Fascinelli and Jesse Beven. Both the guys from group therapy knew the truth about her psychic ability. Anthony
was the one who’d helped her figure out where all the strange thoughts were coming from. And he and Jesse were
both okay with it.

And don’t forget Yana, Rae reminded herself.

Yana Savari had been a volunteer at the hospital.

When she’d asked Rae to exchange numbers, Rae’d thought Yana was just taking her on as a charity case.

But Yana was turning into a real friend. A Lea kind of friend, before Lea got all weirded out by Rae.

So get over yourself, Rae thought. She had friends. Maybe not a lot of them-but enough.

“Um, I’m taking chemistry this year, and forget about it. Just the work from that class is killer,” Lea said. She took a
bite of her yogurt.

Rae took a spoonful of her own. When Lea snuck another glance at her usual table, Rae pretended not to notice.

What was the point of making a big deal about it? She and Lea wouldn’t be doing this again.

Where the hell is she? Anthony Fascinelli checked his watch. It was still ten minutes before their group therapy
session started up. But Rae should be here.

What if whoever had hired David Wyngard to set that pipe bomb and off Rae had already tried again?

Or hired someone else to do it? What if she was lying dead somewhere? His stomach did a slow roll.

What if. And then he saw her. Walking across the parking lot like one of those girls in a shampoo commercial, her
curly reddish brown hair all bouncy, looking like she owned the world and everyone should just fall at her feet if she
smiled at them.

She wasn’t being careful. She couldn’t look like that-all shampoo commercial girl-and be observing everything that
was going on around her. What was wrong with her? “You’re late,” Anthony snapped as she approached him. “And
you’re stupid.”

She glanced at her slim silver watch. “I’m early,” she corrected him. She didn’t bother responding to the stupid
part.

“What’s been going on the last few days? Have you noticed anything unusual? Have you noticed anything? ” He
wanted to reach out, grab her by the shoulders, and shake her. Instead he jammed his hands in the pockets of his
jeans. “Has there been a strange car in your neighborhood? Someone you don’t really know trying to get all friendly
at school? Someone-”

“A stranger in a van offering me candy if I get inside?” Rae interrupted.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” Anthony demanded.

He took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Someone is trying to kill you, remember? I can’t believe you’re acting
like it’s all a big joke.”

“What do you want me to do? I have no idea who hired David to kill me. Not a clue. Am I supposed to walk around
being afraid of everybody? Is that what you want?”

Her voice had this tremor running through it, and Anthony realized she wasn’t all shampoo girl casual.

Pretty much the opposite. “I just want you to be safe,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, I want that, too. But it’s not like I can be suspicious of the whole world. I’d end up back in the
nuthouse,” Rae answered.

“We’ll figure something out,” Anthony said.

Although he had no idea how. He shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say next. “I guess we should go
in,” he finally added.

“We’re not waiting for Jesse?” Rae asked.

“If we do, we’ll all be late, and Abramson will be three times as pissed,” Anthony said. He led the way inside and
down to the group therapy room. Most of the metal chairs were already filled, but there were two together by the
door. He sat down in one, and Rae slipped into the one next to him. He’d feel a lot better if he could keep her this
close all the time. Not that he’d be able to do any good if someone came at her with a gun or something.

Ms. Abramson hurried into the room, pulling Anthony away from his thoughts. She shut the door behind her and
strode to the center of the circle. She
was wearing one of those sleeveless dresses again.

Anthony figured she had to lift weights because her dark arms were all muscle, none of that jelly at the tops like a
lot of women her age had.

“I have a couple of announcements before we start,” Abramson said. She flipped one of her many braids over her
shoulder. “First, Anthony Fascinelli was not responsible for the pipe bomb. I’m sure you all heard that Mr. Rocha
found materials for a bomb in Anthony’s backpack, but they were put there by David Wyngard. Obviously David will
no longer be a member of our group.” She turned her gaze to Anthony, her eyes bright with emotion. “On behalf of
Mr. Rocha and me, I want to apologize for making a judgment too quickly and to welcome Anthony back.”

Yeah, right, Anthony thought. He could believe Abramson felt bad and wanted him back in group.

But there was no way the director of the institute was all happy Anthony was back at Oakvale. Rocha’d been totally
psyched to have a reason to give Anthony the boot.

Abramson began to pace back and forth across the center of the circle. “My other announcement is a disturbing
one. I got a call from Jesse Beven’s mother.”

Anthony sat up straight, the bones of his spine suddenly feeling sharp against his flesh.

“Mrs. Beven told me that Jesse has run away,” Abramson continued. “I’m sure this news will bring up all kinds of
feelings, and I wanted to take the first part of our session to talk about them.”

No way. No freakin’ way.

Anthony leaned toward Rae, the bones of his back biting into his muscles. “This is crap,” he whispered.

“Jesse wouldn’t bolt. Not without saying something to me.”

“So what do you think happened?” Rae whispered back.

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out,”

Anthony promised.

All right, it’s time for Rae and me to play a game. The name of the game is: What Power Does Rae Voight Have? It’s
been harder than I thought to learn the truth about Rae. She doesn’t open up easily, hides what she’s thinking and
feeling. But with my game, it won’t take long to find out everything I want to know. And after I do, it will be time for
Rae to pay-pay for everything that’s been taken from me.

*

*

*

Rae headed toward the exit leading to the school parking lot. She heard footsteps behind her, and her breathing
started coming a little faster.

Get a grip, she told herself. Of course you hear footsteps behind you. There are people everywhere.

She sped up, anyway. The footsteps sped up, too. Someone was keeping pace with her. Okay, when you get to the
parking lot – “Rae, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Rae whirled around and saw Mr. Jesperson. Her breathing returned to normal. The expression on Mr. Jesperson’s
face told her exactly what he wanted to talk to her about. And it definitely wasn’t what book she planned to write her
English paper on. No, he wanted to see how she was doing.

“I just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing,” he said when he reached her.

God, this must have been on the agenda at the last teachers’ meeting, Rae thought. Item 1: Everyone make sure
Rae Voight isn’t about to do another public freak-out.

She forced a smile. “I’m doing good. Still going to group, which is helping.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it was
what Mr. Jesperson wanted to hear-what they all wanted to hear.

He nodded, and Rae expected him to walk away, having done his good deed for the day. That was what usually
happened. But Mr. Jesperson took a step closer, proving he had no clue about the meaning of personal space. “I
know I wasn’t around last year when you started, uh, having some troubles. But I want you to know that you can
talk to me. Just come on in my classroom. Whenever.” Rae knew that a lot of girls thought Mr. Jesperson was a total
hottie with his black hair and that trace of stubble he always had going. But he was kind of giving her the creeps.

She wished he’d back up, even just half a step.

“I’m doing okay. Really. Thanks, though.” She took a step away, hoping it looked casual and not scared-bunny-ish.

Mr. Jesperson moved closer. This time Rae didn’t allow herself to back away. “When I was in college, I went
through a bad stretch,” he confessed, his voice dropping lower. “I almost flunked out. I was pretty messed up there
for a while. So don’t think if you did decide to talk to me that I wouldn’t understand.”

“Thanks,” Rae repeated. “I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting a friend.”

“Good. That’s good. Friends are really important,” Mr. Jesperson said. “Go on. I’ll see you in class.”

“See you,” Rae answered. And she was outta there, down the hall and out the exit that led to the parking lot. She
scanned the cars-lots of Beemers, a couple of Range Rovers, and a bunch of other SUVs-looking for Anthony’s
beat-up Hyundai.

Well, actually, Anthony’s mom’s beat-up Hyundai.

Not there yet. And he’d given her grief for being late yesterday. Although that was just because he was worried
about her. Even without all her therapy, she wouldn’t have had a problem making that diagnosis.

Rae smiled. She wondered if Anthony knew he had marshmallows for guts.

A horn honked to her left, and she turned, expecting to see Anthony, who was definitely the kind of guy who would
just honk and wait for her to come running. Instead she saw Yana’s yellow Bug zipping in her direction. Yana
screeched to a stop next to Rae, then leaned her head out the window, her white blond hair almost covered by a
baseball cap, and grinned.