Somewhere in the Middle (11 page)

That started a stampede of screaming students that rushed the door,
none with a clue why. Mrs. Collins stood glued to the floor stammering
protests until only we three were left indoors. Roone, just behind me,
quickly manhandled her through the doorway. Not a nanosecond after the
three of us stumbled outside, a school bus smashed into the flimsy metal
building, completely flattening three-quarters of it.

Every single student gaped at what used to be our classroom but was
now a tangle of metal with a school bus on top of it. The silence was
deafening. Only when the back door of the bus opened and a male driver
stumbled out did everyone come to life again.

Screams. Gasps. Hysterical laughter. All of us babbling at once.
Several guys ran forward to help the poor man. I turned to Roone, who was
breathing as hard as a marathon runner, his eyes a little wild. I touched
his cheek. Our gazes locked. He threw his arms around me in the hardest
hug I'd ever gotten in my entire life from anyone. "You're okay."

I had to tip my head back to breathe. "Thanks to you." His shirt
muffled my reply a little.

Suddenly we were surrounded by noisy teens, each and every one of them
ready with high fives, slaps on the back, and exuberant embraces. Even
Mrs. Collins got into the act, giving Roone a big hug that thoroughly
embarrassed him if his pink cheeks were anything to go by. As for that
bus driver, he staggered a little. Though I'd naturally assumed he'd been
hurt, he wasn't bleeding as far as I could tell, so maybe he was all
right. Those buses were tough as tanks.

Principal Morris and most of his office staff came running, clearly
horrified. I saw other teachers and even some students spilling from
nearby classrooms, all rules apparently forgotten for the moment. In the
distance, I heard the wail of a siren. We all waited while Mr. Morris
squatted and checked out the bus driver, who was now seated on the
ground. When the school nurse knelt beside them, Morris stood and went to
Mrs. Collins, who began talking excitedly and gesturing. I saw him glance
over at Roone several times and knew she'd told him who'd saved us.

The siren got louder and louder until we saw a county patrol car wheel
into the lot. First on the scene? Deputy Ethan Sayers. He bolted from his
vehicle and came at a run, a dedicated law enforcer determined to make
things right if he could. I saw he had his radio receiver in his hand and
was talking nonstop into it. Did he have a clue I was involved? Couldn't
have, and since I was okay, I didn't distract him from what he had to
do.

Dad went straight to the principal to get the scoop. By then we could
hear other sirens. A fire truck. An ambulance. I could always tell the
difference. Daughter of a deputy, here. I saw my dad glance around,
obviously looking for the hero of the day, while he asked if any students
were hurt. He didn't see Roone or even me, and I chose not to wave. In no
time the place was crawling with rescue professionals. In the distance a
bell rang, signaling first lunch, which started twenty minutes before
second.

"All you seniors go eat now," yelled Mr. Morris, pointing toward the
cafeteria. "Everything is under control here. I'll make an announcement
later about other classes usually held in this building."

Only then did my dad notice me. His jaw dropped. "Everly!" As he put
two and two together, his face drained of color. Suddenly I was engulfed
in another hug. "My God. Are you all right?"

"Fine. Roone saved us."

"So I heard." Now Roone got a hug. For several seconds they simply
looked each other in the eye. Then my father cleared his throat rather
awkwardly and patted Roone's back. "I may need to talk to you later."

"Sure." Roone didn't seem thrilled at the prospect.

With a nod, Dad moved on.

"Let's get out of here." Roone grabbed my arm, clearly intent on
leaving.

"But my backpack, and my purse..."

He eyed the wreckage of our classroom. "I don't think you're going to
get either of them back today."

"I don't have lunch money."

"I do."

The cafeteria was buzzing by the time we got there. Several other
students who'd been involved had apparently already told their stories.
Boy, did we get some looks. Roone hung back, a reluctant hero to the nth
degree, until new guy Teo stood up and began to applaud loudly and
deliberately. Naturally, everyone else did, too.

There was no escaping now. My un-boyfriend stopped in his tracks,
staring at them all in horror.

"Smile and wave to everyone," I whispered through a fake smile.

Roone did.

"Now turn around, go out that door, and wait for me on the bench under
the biggest oak tree."

He did that, too, but only after slapping a ten-dollar bill into my
hand. I made my way to the salad bar since I'd seen him eat one in the
past and filled two paper bowls with fresh spinach, veggies, croutons and
cheese. When I tried to pay, the woman at checkout wouldn't take it. "My
son Jeff told me your boyfriend just saved his life. So I'm buying
today." She took four dollars out of her pocket, showed the bills to me,
and then stuck them in the cash box.

I thanked her and headed outdoors, where I joined Roone on the bench.
He was watching some maintenance men find a way into what was left of our
building, perhaps to get our stuff. Four city cops had arrived, but the
ambulance was gone.

I told Roone who'd bought our meal as I handed him his food and money.
"If I asked how you knew that bus was coming for us, would you tell
me?"

"Everly, I--"

"Never mind." Trying not to be hurt that he still didn't trust me, I
deliberately changed the subject completely. "What does the Thorsen
family do for Christmas?"

"That I can tell you. We get a tree and decorate it. And we get
presents that we open Christmas night."

"You wait that long? My little brother would never make it if we did
that."

"Eve. I meant Christmas
Eve
. For dinner we have traditional
American food."

Traditional American food.
What the hell? If I hadn't known
better I'd have sworn he was reciting something he'd memorized. That
really got me. Didn't NowhereNear have holidays?

"What do the Sayerses do?"

"Oh, um, the usual. Spend too much money on presents. Buy and decorate
a tree way too big for our den. Eat too many sweets. Christmas is my very
favorite holiday, so I go all out."

"Sounds nice." He looked so sad.

"Do you miss your mom this time of year?"

"I miss my mom every single day."

"I'm so sorry."

He just shook his head.

"How's the food?" I asked.

Roone forked a bite of salad and chewed it. He gave me a thumbs up. My
gaze followed his to the pile of rubble that was once our classroom.
"What do you think of Teo?"

"Stay away from him."

That got me. "Why? Do you know the guy?"

"Just stay away from him."

"Got something against Asians?"

"I'm pretty freakin' sure he's Mongolian."

"And you know this how?" The stubborn set of his jaw was my answer, as
in I wasn't going to get one. "Why can't you open up to me? Do I have a
big mouth or something?"

"No. Of course not." He sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? Sometimes life
is...tricky.
My
life is tricky."

"Tricky? What does that mean?" I'd never been more frustrated.

"It means I'm different."

"I believe I told you that already."

He blinked. "Do I stick out at McAlister High?"

"You mean besides being bigger, stronger, and psychic?"

Roone froze, his hand halfway to his mouth. "Is that what everyone's
saying?"

I noticed he hadn't denied it. "No. That was a joke--just me trying to
figure out how you knew that bus was about to annihilate our English
room. It's not like there were windows."

"I--"

"Roone Thorsen?"

Roone and I were suddenly approached by a woman with a mic and a man
with a professional video camera. I recognized the call letters on both,
which told me they were from a Huntsville TV station. How had they gotten
onto our closed campus? I wondered, trying see past them to the gate.

Just then the bell rang, signaling second lunch. Students poured out
of the buildings, many of them detouring our way out of curiosity when
they saw the news crew.

"Are you Roone Thorsen?" the lady with the mic asked again.

"Yes." He had that old deer-in-the-headlights look.

"I'm Tasha Hilliard, reporter for KNews." The woman flipped a strand
of her teased blond hair over her shoulder. "I understand you saved a lot
of lives today. Can you tell me what happened?"

Roone set aside his food and stood, as did I. His hand fumbled for and
found mine. Our fingers laced. "I'd rather not."

"I can," said Summer Porter, who had English with us. Stepping
forward, she instantly launched into the dramatic story of how Roone had
suddenly started yelling in the middle of class to get us out of the
building. "And there aren't even any windows, so we don't know how he
knew it was coming."

Tasha zoned in on Roone and stuck her mic right under his nose, which
drew my eyes to her fake red fingernails. "How
did
you know that
bus was headed your way?"

"I, um, heard it." His panicked gaze moved from person to person in
the group crowding in on us.

"Did anyone else hear it?" Tasha looked all around.

I saw that her cameraman was filming all the headshakes. Not good. So
not good. "Actually, I did," I told her. "I just didn't realize what it
was." Roone gave my hand a grateful squeeze.

"So you heard the bus, too." Tasha seemed doubtful, probably because
it made the whole story a little less interesting.

I nodded. "Yes. And I can't believe no one else did." I turned
slightly and scanned the growing crowd of students. "Jack Bailey, you sit
right next to me. Didn't you hear all that revving out in the parking lot
and then the bump when the bus jumped the concrete divider?"

He frowned. "You know, I think I did. But I'm like you. I didn't
realize it meant danger."

"I'm pretty sure I heard it, too," said Susan Winship.

I saw some other students nodding thoughtfully. Thank God for "Brain
Games," a TV show I regularly watched. Just the past week, the
charismatic host had proved how easily memories could be altered, even
our most recent ones.

"Excuse me. Excuse me." Principal Morris descended on us, clearly
irate. "All visitors have to check in at the desk, Ms..."

"Hilliard. Tasha Hilliard." She slashed her hand across her throat to
stop the cameraman from filming. "Sorry about that. You must be Richard
Morris." As she offered him her hand, she began to sweet talk her way out
of trouble. Roone stole that moment to back us into the crowd, which
politely parted and then closed up again once we were through.

The minute we got clear, he and I loped for the caf door. Once inside,
we headed straight through it and into the locker area, which was always
fairly deserted at lunch.

Roone was so beside himself by that time, he actually forgot to help
me with the steps. That scared me a little. "Geez, Roone. Are you
okay?"

"What I am is in deep shit."

"With who? Your classmates obviously adore you."

He just shook his head.

More secrets. Great. I felt tears sting my eyes, a completely
ridiculous reaction to his reticence, all things considered. "We can hang
around here until class."

"Okay."

We stood without talking until the warning bell rang, ending lunch.
Then we walked as far as we could together in chilly silence, parting
without
see you laters.
Present in body only, I somehow made it
through Chemistry. And when Roone and I met in the hall after class, I
went with a decision I'd made while Mr. Graham explained dissociation
constant--pretend that day hadn't been different from all others.

I wasn't sorry when the final bell rang that afternoon. After a quick
stop in the school office to get belongings rescued from the portable
building by firemen, Roone and I did the locker thing. After that, we
headed to my car, but only after we made sure there weren't any strange
vans with TV station call letters on them stationed in the parking lot. I
really didn't give my un-boyfriend a close look until he was about to
start the engine. That's when I realized how stressed and tired he
appeared.

I instantly felt bad for all my mean thoughts. "Mind if we make a
quick stop before we go home?"

"Where to?"

"My rock."

He slowly smiled, and we wound up at my favorite spot looking out over
the valley, dotted with fields and houses. The sky had never been so blue
or the sun so bright, though more storm clouds hovered low on the
horizon. Patches of snow that the sun hadn't completely melted glistened
here and there.

"I'm just going to ask one question about today." I didn't look at
Roone, who sat beside me, our arms and thighs touching. "And I want an
honest answer."

I felt him tense.

"Why didn't you nudge that bus the way you did the chandelier?"

Roone wilted like a day lily at sunset.

"Don't worry," I quickly told him. "I may know what you are, but I
don't think anyone else does yet. So what's it like to be
telekinetic?"

He didn't answer.

"There's no point in hiding it now. You can clearly move things with
your mind. I mean, I saw you do it. And I think you can hear things other
people can't hear. What's the term for that...? Oh yeah. Clairaudient. So
that's two psychic gifts you have. Are there any more?"

He hesitated, but finally gave in with a shrug. "Yeah."

Making progress. "Wow. What's it like to be so in tune with
everything?"

Roone laughed softly. "Pretty freakin' sweet, actually."