“I guess that’s why I picked the park,” I say slowly. “I thought we might see someone I know, someone from the neighborhood.” I swallow, feeling disloyal as I say, “And Spike lives around here.”
“Yeah? You used to hang out with him all the time, right?”
“Yeah.” Then my heart sinks. Since it’s Saturday, there’s every possibility that not just Spike will be at his house but also the rest of the Zombie Squad, hanging out in the backyard, jumping in and out of the hot tub. Including Cassie.
I have no desire to underhear Cassie ever again.
“What?” Cody says.
“He might have friends over,” I say reluctantly. “I don’t know if I can pick and choose who I hear.”
He smiles. “That’s okay. If it works, it works, right?”
I don’t quite smile back. He’s right, of course. I need to just get over it. If I want to be able to control this—instead of it controlling me, instead of spinning out of control like Shiri did—I’m going to have to set aside my fears.
“Okay. I’ll try,” I say, settling my legs into as comfortable a position as I can manage on the hard bench. “Can you light this?” I reach for my backpack and pull out my black-cherry candle. Cody takes his Zippo out of his pocket and lights the candle with a soft tink of metal.
“Okay,” I say. “I think I’m ready.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
He’s quiet for a minute. I crack my eyelids a tiny bit and peek through. He’s staring at the candle, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sits on the bench opposite me and leans his arms on the table. I close my eyes all the way again.
“Are you sure?” he says.
I say yes. A trickle of sweat rolls down the back of my neck.
Cody starts by prompting me to relax certain muscles in turn, and then, after a few minutes of this, he tells me in a soft, hypnotic voice that I am now completely relaxed and aware. At first it’s hard to concentrate, but gradually, his voice fades, and all I can hear are birds in the trees and the faint laughter of the girls playing soccer. The crown of my head is light, airy, and I have a sense of floating, like I’m not quite touching the bench even though I can feel the hard boards under my butt in a sort of distant way.
Think of Spike. I’m not sure whether the words were spoken out loud or in my head, but I comply, my thoughts drifting, bobbing erratically as if they’re on an ocean or a breeze. There’s a memory of one of Spike’s beach barbecues, the summer after freshman year, his dad manning the grill and handing out hot dogs as soon as they cooked. Biting in and tasting the smoky richness, the slight dryness of charcoal, the grit of sea salt.
It’s vivid, but it’s just a memory. So I keep trying. I think about his house, right there across the street; his mom’s soft accent.
But the harder I try, paradoxically, the more the idea of Spike seems to slip out of my grasp, like trying to grab water. He’s there, but I can’t keep hold of him. I breathe slowly, hold my desperation and eagerness down somehow, and then someone does come clear in my mind: Cassie.
Bitterness surges inside me. I don’t want to underhear her. Is she at Spike’s house? My breath catches when I realize that I’m sort of hovering beside her, my thoughts floating in a formless space next to her head. Her voice sharpens, clarifies, a wisp or memory of the acrid smell of permanent hair dye ghosting through my nostrils.
—Why did I ever go to that stupid party with James?
Elisa wasn’t even there—she—and then—
—the bedroom with Damion, he brought me
in there, I was drunk, and I don’t even remember
what happened—and I heard that he told his friends we—did we? God what if—
And then it’s over. Except that I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks, stinging my wind-chapped skin. Horror and revulsion and regret slither through me. Hers? Or my own? I’m over her, so why am I crying?
I breathe raggedly, and I’m about to open my eyes when I hear Cody say softly, “Not yet. Try again.” I don’t really want to keep going, but I have trouble focusing enough to snap out of it and tell him so. It’s easier to just let it go, to follow wherever my mind leads. My thoughts slide along again.
—party with James? Elisa wasn’t even there—
—Elisa wasn’t even—
Echoes of Cassie’s thoughts spin in fragments around me and then disappear, fading into that increasingly familiar feeling of openness in the crown of my head. Almost too soon, soon enough to surprise me, I hear another voice. Is Spike having a party? My brief flare of curiosity fades and I’m distracted by the sound of crackling, tearing paper in my head, a phantom smell of something slowly burning, smoldering down to ashes.
It’s another familiar voice.
—I can’t tell him what happened with Marc, how he told me he’d always wanted—no—why did Marc kiss me?—why did I—
—have to get rid of this letter—
—can’t tell him, can’t tell James, can’t tell James can’t tell can’t tell can’t tell—
I feel like I’m drowning. The words smother me and colors well behind my eyes, intricate patterns laced with swirling strands black as Elisa’s dark hair. My heart races with panic. I try to breathe. I remind myself where I am: the park. Outside. Safe. I remind myself who I am. The swirling eases, and the smell of burned paper turns into a faint tendril of black-cherry fragrance. I can feel my hands again, and I flex them.
My eyes fly open, and I start to shiver. Cody jumps off the bench and asks, “Did it work?” And then, when I don’t say anything, he adds, “Are you okay?”
I nod, but my teeth are chattering too hard to respond. He slides onto the bench next to me but I hardly react, even when he puts both arms around me and hugs me until I stop shaking. That’s when I realize I’m still crying, that my cheeks are wet and my nails are digging into my palms. My breath hitches, knowing all of these things that I’m not supposed to know.
Cody just sits quietly, holding my hand in his, his thumb slowly stroking mine. He gazes at me steadily, his expression serious.
I can’t keep my feelings inside. I can’t be alone with this secret. I’ll burst.
Slowly, I start to tell Cody what I heard. Who I heard. What I felt. The more I talk, the more my resentment and anger grow—anger that I can’t seem to get away from Cassie; anger at Elisa for never having the guts to talk to me at school; frustration at Spike for being able to stay friends with them; fury at Shiri for not being able to cope, and at the universe for causing this gift, this curse. The emotions are raging out of me, and the words just keep spilling out.
Cody inches his body a little closer. He puts his arm around my shoulders again and pulls me into him. I can feel the warmth radiating from his arm like it’s a burning branch, and right now it feels like the most solid thing in the world to me.
nineteen
When I get home from the park, I wrap my fleece moon-and-stars blanket tightly around me and huddle against the side of the bed. I’m sitting on the floor of my room, the door closed and locked, even though I know my mom hates it when I lock the door. But I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I don’t want to hear anyone right now.