Surprise quickly gave way to irritation. Unbelievable. How had I been friends with Emily for so long without strangling her? Please, if George wanted to kill her, he was going to have to get in line. "Where's Annabeth?"

She slammed her locker shut with a flick of her hand. "Who knows and who cares. In my opinion, she's just as sick as him..."

I spun around and started down the hall, leaving Emily behind. She didn't need me anyway, she had her ego and the entire school to hang on her every word.

As I pushed past students hurrying to get to cla.s.s, I couldn't help but notice people giving me sidelong glances, their whispers ringing through my mind. They all knew I was friends with Annabeth and they wondered if I had realized her boyfriend was a murderer. Wonderful, guilt by a.s.sociation. I pushed aside the hurtful feelings, determined not to care. I had to find Annabeth. I had to make sure she was okay. How could Lewis do something so dramatic and not tell me? When had he gone to the cops?

Tara was walking toward me, another girl who worked at Lakeside. "Tara," I latched onto her arm. "Have you seen Annabeth?"

She frowned, tucking a black curl behind her ear. "My G.o.d, Cam, did you hear?"

I nodded, wishing she'd skip the pleasantries and answer my question.

"Can you imagine what could have happened to Annabeth?"

Finally someone who actually cared about Annabeth. "Have you seen her?"

"She's in the bathroom, but..."

"Thanks."

I had five minutes before school started, but I'd be late if I had to. So much for that perfect attendance record. I pushed the door wide and burst into the girl's restroom, a white s.p.a.ce smelling of lemons that had provided more than one student with solitude. The place was surprisingly empty, as if the female population could sense the depressing aura and was purposefully keeping away. "Annabeth?"

No response, but I heard her thoughts whispering from behind one of the closed stall doors.

Why is she here? It's her fault. G.o.d, I hate her. She did this on purpose...

I cringed, feeling her words like a knife to the gut. "Annabeth." I paused outside the middle stall, resting my hands on the cold steel door. "Come on, please, come out."

Why does she care? She wanted to humiliate me. She did it. I know she turned him in. She's just like Emily.

"I'm not," I cried out, tears burning my eyes. "I swear I'm not like Emily."

There was a stunned moment of silence and then, Oh my G.o.d, how'd she know...

I realized my mistake and at the same time, I didn't care. I was tired of hiding. Tired of being alone with my secrets. Meeting Lewis had taught me that I didn't have to hide. I felt more in control of my life than I'd ever felt before. "Annabeth? Please, come out."

The bolt screeched back and the door pulled inward. Her round face was splotchy, her eyes wide and bloodshot from crying. The dress she wore was a wrinkled mess. In our shallow school where fashion mattered, her state of disarray wouldn't help her cause.

"Did you turn him in?" she demanded.

"No, of course not." Resisting the urge to tell her the truth, I bit back Lewis' name.

Her brown eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"I'm not! I didn't, I swear."

She looked reluctant to believe me. I wanted her to believe me, but at the same time, wondered why she cared. Shouldn't she be happier that her life had been saved? Or was it merely embarra.s.sment that had her crying?

I grabbed some toilet paper and handed her the wad of tissue. "Annabeth, I'm just so relieved you're okay."

She ignored my offer. "He didn't do it." She moved to the sinks lining the wall and turned on the water. "I know everyone thinks he did, but he didn't."

She splashed water on her face and I stared at her, horrified, the toilet paper forgotten in my hand. Wonderful, she was going to be one of those women who stood by her man, even when he went to prison. She'd marry him and write to him every day, proclaiming his innocence on Oprah. I sank back against the wall, sick. They'd write a movie about her and it would be on Lifetime, that channel Grandma liked to watch.

"Annabeth, he did it."

She spun around, her face furious and red. "He didn't. They don't have any legitimate proof."

"I know he did it."

She snorted. "How? How can you possibly know?" She turned her back to me and grabbed a paper towel. How dare she think she knows my boyfriend better than I do.

"I do know him better."

She stiffened and I could see her face go pale in the mirror. Oh my G.o.d. How'd she know what I was thinking? There was a moment's silence. What else does she know? Can she read my mind? What the heck's going on?

It was my opportunity. Prime opportunity to tell her the truth. My heart slammed wildly against my chest, knowing once I admitted it, I couldn't go back. "Yes," I whispered and touched her gently on the shoulder. "I can read your mind."

She spun around and flattened herself against the edge of the sink, her eyes wide with terror...afraid of me. It wasn't the first time I'd seen that look. My heart sank.

"I've never told anyone. My grandma told me not to, but I don't care," I blurted out, hoping she'd understand, praying she wouldn't judge me. "We're friends. I have to tell you."

She shook her head, her face pale. Obviously I hadn't gotten through to her. Perhaps she didn't understand. I started to reach for her, but thought better of it when she flinched. "Annabeth, I can read minds, I've pretty much always been able to."

"No." She's crazy.

I stiffened. The word hurt more than she could understand. Crazy. What Mom had called me the day she'd dropped my off at Grandma's. G.o.d, I hated that word. Hot tears stung my eyes.

"I'm not crazy." I stepped closer to her. She shrank back. "I can read minds and I heard George's thoughts. He killed Savannah."

She shook her head. "You're crazy." She released a harsh laugh. "They say George is crazy? And all this time I stood up for you when people whispered behind your back." She moved away from me, scurrying toward the door. Outside the bell rang.

"Annabeth, please! Wait!" I latched onto her arm before she could escape. If I didn't make her believe me...

She jerked away. The expression of disgust upon her face was like a punch to the gut. "Don't touch me. Don't talk to me, nothing." She's a freak.

Annabeth rushed out the door, into the empty hall.

I raced after her, no longer worried about making her understand, but worried about keeping her quiet. But she was already running toward her next cla.s.s. Chasing after her would only cause a scene. How long before she told someone else? Oh G.o.d, what had I done?

"Stupid move, Cameron," Lewis said from behind me.

I spun around, furious. "Excuse me?"

His blue-eyed gaze had turned icy hard. He was angry. I'd never seen him angry. "You never tell your secret to people who aren't like us." He raked his hands through his hair; his fingers were trembling. "s.h.i.t, you have so much to learn."

Incompetence and sorrow dug deep into my body like a bur. I wrapped my arms around my waist as tears slipped from my eyes. I'd told her my secret and she hadn't believed me. She was my friend, why hadn't she believed me? "This is your fault!"

"Are you serious?"

"How could you do this to her? She hates me now."

He released a harsh laugh. "I saved your friend's life."

I stomped my foot, the thump echoing down the empty hall. "You humiliated her!"

His jaw clenched and he took a step back, intending to leave me as well. I didn't want him to leave, at the same time I blamed him for this mess.

"Better humiliated," he said, "than dead."

I felt miserable. More than miserable. I felt like someone had drained me of all energy. I'd always been able to at least dim the thoughts coming from people by focusing on other things, but not today, not now. Every feeling, every thought burst into my brain like an explosion, leaving me weak, trembling. I knew why, too much had happened. My defenses were down. I needed to go home, be alone with my thoughts and no one else's. I needed sleep. Unfortunately, first I needed to get through French cla.s.s.

Hefting my books in my hands, I left Biology and started down the crowded hall. Emily stood at her locker, which happened to be next to mine. I couldn't ask her if she'd happened to hear anything about me, oh, say, reading minds. I knew she was done with me even before she glanced over her shoulder, as if sensing my presence. She smirked and turned away. It was a direct cut and a lot of people saw it happen. I kept my face pa.s.sive, not daring to show how c.r.a.ppy I felt, but my hands were visibly shaking.

"You think it's true?" someone whispered as I moved by.

"Oh please, no way," someone else responded.

G.o.d, what if she can read my mind?

I stumbled and glanced back. Tara leaned against the wall, watching me. She jerked her head down, focusing on the floor. Does she know what I'm thinking?

I froze there, in the middle of the hall, the scent of lemon cleaning product sharp and strong, making me want to gag. They all knew. The roar of conversation became a m.u.f.fled murmur. No. This was not happening. Frantic, I looked up and down the hall. More than one student was looking at me, whispering, some giggling as they moved by, careful not to get too close.

Can she read minds? Emily thinks she can.

Oh s.h.i.t, what if she knows I cheated on that math test?

Will she tell Emily that I really hate her?

I wanted to throw my books to the floor and scream for them all to shut up. I didn't care about their stupid, insignificant problems. Instead, I lowered my head and made my way toward my locker. This was horrible. Worse than horrible. Why had I trusted Annabeth? Clearly, she wasn't a friend, she'd betrayed me. Quicker than the flu in winter, my secret had spread through the school.

"Excuse me," someone snapped.

I looked up. Annabeth stood in my way. She'd changed, no longer meek and shy, I could see that in the hardness of her gaze. Life had turned her. No one seemed to notice her wrinkled outfit anymore. Her hair had been combed back, and her face was its natural color. Throwing me under the bus had given her strength.

At least now they're talking about her and not me.

My heart stopped, for a brief moment as realization struck hard. She'd done this on purpose...spread the fact that I could read minds. She'd wanted to hurt me.

"You did this," I seethed.

"Did what?" She lifted a brow, daring me to respond.

I bit my tongue, refusing to give in. She had friends behind her. Friends who used to be my friends as well. Friends who looked uneasy, unsure. They were wondering if they could trust me. Wondering if Annabeth was lying. Wondering if I could really read minds.

"You're in my way." She glared at me.

This morning Annabeth had been a pariah, but there were those few who felt bad for her and those few were supporting her now. This afternoon, I was the one with leprosy, but the difference was that I had no one to back me up. Alone. Everything I'd worked so hard for was gone. I realized, in that moment, I had no idea what to do.

"Annabeth!" Sarah came to a skidding halt beside us. "It was just on the news...they've found evidence, it's not looking good."

Annabeth's large brown eyes filled with tears. My heart actually clenched for her. She dropped her books with a loud thud and raced down the hall, disappearing around a corner. Her friends didn't follow. Some friends.

"Are you serious?" Toni asked.

"Yep." Sarah was more excited about being the first to know, than being worried about Annabeth's welfare. They darted a glance at me, but realizing they didn't know what to say, they wandered reluctantly away.

I sniffled, my nose burning from unshed tears. How I wished I could go home and cry. If I went home and gave into my tears, Grandma would immediately wonder what had happened. Not that she wouldn't read my mind tonight and know anyway. She would realize I'd told Annabeth about my ability and then there'd be h.e.l.l to pay. Would she make us pack up and leave? Had I ruined everything once again, just as I had in Michigan?

The bell rang, indicating the start of last cla.s.s period. The hall emptied but I still stood there. Confused. Lost. Alone.

The thud of footsteps sent my heart racing. Lewis? I spun around, but it wasn't Lewis. No. It was Trevor. Slowly, he looked me up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. No thoughts of me and my mind reading abilities flashed through his mind. Thank G.o.d. Same old Trevor, wondering if now that he and Emily had broken up, he could get some from me. He thought I'd be happy to take Emily's place because he was, well, Trevor. School star athletic. Of course I wanted him. Not.

"Hey, Cameron." He paused in front of me, too close. I really didn't have the time to deal with him right now.

"Hey," I muttered, brushing past him and heading toward French cla.s.s.

"What's the hurry?" He latched onto my arm, pulling me to a stop.

"I've got cla.s.s," I said, trying to shrug off his touch. "Don't you?"

She'd be easy, he thought. Screw her and move on. She won't say anything, she'll be too worried about Emily finding out.

I sighed and tried to jerk my arm away. "Listen, I gotta go or I'll be late."

"So," he shrugged, grinning that grin that made many a girl's hearts flutter. Fortunately I was totally immune. He pulled me back. Off balance, I stumbled and fell against the wall.

"Aren't you ever bad?" He took the opportunity to step closer, his body pinning mine to the wall.

I was so stunned that I let him. The idiot didn't think he was doing anything wrong. He actually believed that I would be so grateful to have his attention, I wouldn't mind the fact that his hands were currently traveling down my waist and creeping dangerously close to my a.s.s.

"You know I've always liked you."

"Bull," I snapped, using my French book as a barrier between us. "You've never liked me; you're just h.o.r.n.y and have some delusional belief that I'm so desperate I'll let you use me."

I saw the surprise flash in his eyes, heard the mental curse come from his thoughts. But he was good, and if I couldn't read minds, I might have actually fallen for his c.r.a.p.

"Cam, it's always been you I was interested in. I only dated Emily to be close to you."

"Wow," Lewis' voice suddenly reached out, a beacon of hope. "That is the worst pick up line I've ever heard."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall not ten feet from us. Heat shot straight to my cheeks. Lord, I hoped he realized I didn't want this.

Trevor looked unimpressed. "We're having a private conversation here, Newbie. Might want to make yourself scarce."