King Series Box Set Page 5

  “So here’s my story, in condensed version. My name is Michael Sawyer, like I told you. I’m almost eighteen—my birthday is at the end of November. I’ve lived here all my life—in the country, outside of town. I have an older sister who is in college in Virginia.” He paused for a minute, thinking. “I don’t play football or baseball, but I run track. I’m a pretty fair student. I like to learn, so I usually like school. Did I forget anything?”

  I tilted my head, considering. “You said something yesterday about a job. Where do you work?”

  Michael’s forehead wrinkled as he frowned at me again. “I said something about work? I don’t remember.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, when you were asking me if I had a ride home…” Suddenly, I couldn’t remember if he really had mentioned a job or if he only thought it.

  He was looking at me oddly again, and I felt the same speculation from this morning. And once again, I heard him loud and clear.

  I don’t think I said anything about work. Did I? It’s almost like she can…

  I couldn’t help it. I flushed before he could finish that last thought. His eyes were fastened on my face, and I looked away quickly as my cheeks burned.

  His next thoughts were so deliberately organized that I would have known he was testing if even the words hadn’t confirmed it.

  That’s it, isn’t it? You can read my mind. You know what I’m thinking. This was followed by a huge wave of doubt as he began to second-guess his own intuition. Am I crazy? She’s gonna think so. Sitting here staring at her… psycho nut job…

  I dropped my head onto my hand and closed my eyes. The smart thing here would be to say something, anything, that would convince Michael he was wrong. I could just go on about the job, make him feel ridiculous for his insane suspicions. Keep him at a distance, don’t let him know for sure… that was my typical modus operandi. That’s exactly what I should have done.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I raised my head and met his eyes. I nodded, just once, barely a movement.

  Michael released the breath that he had been holding. “No way,” he murmured. “No freaking way.”

  “I’m sorry!” The words burst from my mouth before I could stop them. “I didn’t mean to listen to you. I’m sorry—”

  “Shhh.” Michael stopped me, raising his hand. “It’s okay. I think. I’m just—geez. Kind of—trying to figure this out.”

  I stared unseeing at the brown grass beneath our feet and focused with all of my might on not hearing Michael’s mind. I owed him this small gesture of privacy at least.

  “This is crazy,” he said finally. “You really can…?” When I nodded, he drew in a deep breath and smiled wryly at me.

  “So you’ve been reading my mind since we met yesterday?”

  “No!” I shook my head and met his level gaze. “I don’t try to hear thoughts—I really work hard not to hear them. I accidentally picked up a few things from your mind—but when I get upset, it’s harder to block. Sometimes I can’t tell what I’m hearing and what I’m—” I tapped my forehead, “—hearing.”

  To my utter relief, Michael looked more interested than horrified. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could speak, the bell buzzed, signaling the end of lunch.

  He ran a hand through his hair and scowled. “I want to talk about this more. But we can’t do it here.” He stood up abruptly, grabbing our trays, and I struggled to my feet, still feeling shaky.

  Michael dumped our trash into the nearby garbage can and set the trays in the slot on top of it. He turned back to me with another smile and reached out to touch my shoulder. I felt the same zing as before and sucked in a breath. If Michael noticed, he didn’t react.

  “Is your mom picking you up today?” he asked.

  I shook my head, and Michael’s smile widened.

  “Then can I give you a ride home? We could talk a little more, maybe.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  We both hesitated a moment more before Michael turned to lead me through the now emptying cafeteria and back to the main walkways, crowded with students. I turned to look up at him, to say goodbye, but my breath caught at the expression in his eyes—a mix of question and longing. I could feel the same mixture coming off him in waves, and when he gripped my shoulder again, I was nearly overwhelmed by the flood of emotion.

  “Are you okay?” Michael asked in alarm. “You just went white.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled in a breath. “Sometimes touch makes the connection stronger.” I covered his hand lightly with my own. “It just took me by surprise.”

  Michael nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Okay. I’ll see you at your locker after school.” He turned and joined the crowd, disappearing from my sight.

  I don’t think too much happened in class that afternoon, but I really couldn’t swear to it. I was completely and totally in another world. Mr. Frame lectured on something that happened in the early nineteenth century, and the Trig teacher spent the whole class period wrapped up in a concept I could not even begin to comprehend. All I knew for sure was that they left me alone to think.

  When I wasn’t with Michael, I could think rationally, and I could plan carefully. I knew that it was absolutely ludicrous to believe that this person I had known for barely two days could be so important to me already, and it was even more impossible that I could mean anything to him. I thought about each time we’d been together… but I couldn’t remember them in too much detail or I lost any of that rationality.

  I came down to one conclusion: it didn’t make any sense. Michael had so far offered no explanation for why he was spending this much time and energy on me. If I had a suspicious mind—which I did—I might worry that it was my unique talent that drew him to me, but if I was looking at things logically, I had to admit that he had sought me out before he knew about my ability. So it was pretty far-fetched that he liked me for my freakish mind.

  Far more frightening was considering my own reaction to him. I couldn’t look into his eyes for any length of time without losing all sense of reality. Each time he smiled at me, my insides begin to melt away. My whole being hummed with gladness when I knew I was going to be with him, and I felt every sense sharpen when we were together.

  This was so new to me. In the past, I had found boys attractive. I could look objectively at a cute guy and admire him. I had even had a few small crushes on classmates—crushes that never had amounted to anything more than me sighing to myself when that boy passed me in the hall or fleetingly caught my eye. I never pursued those feelings, because they weren’t that important.

  This situation was so radically different that I couldn’t even compare it. I wondered, though, what would have happened if Michael had never made a move to talk with me. What if I had just seen him in the cafeteria on the first day and that had been the end of it? Would I still be hung up on him? Or was it that he had reached out to me, had made it a point to talk to me, that made him so attractive?

  At the end of two class periods, I didn’t have the answers. I knew that Michael was already more important to me than anyone except my parents. I knew that I trusted him. Beyond that, I was going to have to do something I rarely did: wing it.

  I hurried to my locker after the final bell, anxious and ready to go. Michael was already there, leaning against the wall… He smiled as I rushed up with my books falling out of my hands.

  “How was your afternoon?” he asked, as he watched me open the locker and juggle books.

  I stepped back and spread my arms. “Well, I’m dry, so that’s one good thing. It was pretty uneventful. How about yours? And how did you get here so fast?”

  “Mine was boring. English and Botany. And I got out a little early because we had a quiz in Botany, and I finished early. No more Nell issues?”

  He had changed the subject so quickly I had to pause to think before answering. “No. She’s in my History class, but she pointedly ignored me.” I slammed the locker shut and tur
ned to face Michael fully. “What’s her deal, anyway? I mean, I get that she’s the queen diva around here. I saw that right away. But usually those types don’t bother with anyone who doesn’t threaten them.”

  Michael’s eyes were speculative. “Maybe you threaten her.”

  I laughed. “Oh, that’s possible. No, I don’t think that’s the issue.”

  “I’ve known her for as long as we’ve been in school. She’s always been someone you don’t want to mess with. Some of the guys can deal with her, but most of the girls steer clear, unless she chooses them to be in her little group.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think that’s a concern of mine. I’ll be happy to be among the steering-clear crowd, if she leaves me alone.”

  Michael smiled, too, ruefully. He glanced at his watch. “Are you all set?”

  I nodded. “Ready to experience the wonder of your amazing cool car.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t appreciate sarcasm. Remember, she’s my best girl, so you’ll want to make a good impression.”

  I giggled as we started toward the parking lot. Michael glanced sideways at me. “Assuming you do make the cut, do you think your mom would let me give you a ride to school? I drive in every day, and I could stop to pick you up… if you wanted.”

  I did want, more than I could even express. And since my parents had—no matter how grudgingly—given their consent to rides from school, I decided that being driven to school couldn’t really be that different.

  “Yeah, I think that would be fine,” I answered finally. Michael’s smile was nearly as staggering as the explosion of feeling that poured out toward me. I concentrated on keeping my steps steady.

  We reached his car, and Michael opened the passenger door for me. I swung my backpack into the rear and sank into my seat as he sprinted around to his side.

  I examined the interior carefully. “I like your car. It’s in very good shape for such an old… vehicle.”

  Michael shook his head in mock despair. “It’s not old, it’s antique. And it’s been lovingly maintained. This car has been in my family since it was brand-new. That’s very unusual.”

  “Really? I don’t know very much about cars.” I ran a finger over the chrome detail on the dashboard. “I mean, I can drive, and I do, but not that often. My mom usually needs the car during the day.”

  Michael snuck a glance at me as he turned the key in the ignition. “Do you want to drive my car some time?”

  Taken aback, I scrutinized his face to gauge his seriousness. “Are you kidding? You’d let me drive your antique?”

  He laughed. “It’s a car, Tas. Yes, I am pretty fond of it. It was my uncle’s, then my dad’s, then my sister’s and now it’s mine. And I’d love for you to take it for a spin, if it would make you happy.”

  Now I was more than surprised, I was touched. “Thank you,” I murmured. “I’d really like that.”

  He grinned. “Of course, I should probably warn you… once you drive the ‘Stang, you’ll be spoiled for anything else.”

  “I guess I’ll take my chances.” The car was meticulously maintained, and only a little bit of wear indicated its age. I looked at the vintage radio, the huge steering wheel… and the stick shift. Grimacing, I shook my head.

  “Your car. It’s manual. I mean, stick shift.”

  Michael turned in his seat, looking through the rear window as he began to back out. “Yup, it is.” He put his hand on my headrest as he did, and his wrist was nearly touching my face. I couldn’t breathe. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, just absorbing his closeness.

  “You okay?” I heard the quizzical concern.

  “Yes.” I opened my eyes but didn’t move my head. “But I can’t drive your car. I never learned how to drive manual.”

  Michael moved his hand to the gearshift and the car slid forward smoothly. “Seriously?” I shook my head. “Well, when we have time, I’ll teach you to drive stick, so I can keep my promise, okay?”

  The idea that he was making plans with me—even as incidental as a driving lesson—made me glow all the more. I closed my eyes again; with my head swimming, my blocks were worthless, and I could hear him so clearly.

  … Pushing? Am I coming on too strong? Moving too fast… She makes me feel—I can’t even think about how she makes me feel… like I could conquer the world when she’s with me… but what if she doesn’t want me around?

  I opened my eyes abruptly and sat up. Michael glanced over at me. “You okay? I thought you had fallen asleep. Which would have made it hard to get you home, since I have no idea where you live.”

  I looked out the window as we drove through town. “No, just thinking.” I gave him the general location of my house and then gathered up my all my courage and continued, feeling my face heat as I did. “A driving lesson would be great. And I wasn’t trying to listen to you… but you’re not being pushy. And—” I took a deep breath, “—And I never don’t want you around me.”

  Michael’s face was a study in confusion. I didn’t blame him. I usually spoke clearly, but for some reason, it was easier just now to say what I didn’t want—his absence—than it was to say what I did want—or need: his presence.

  “So if you don’t not want me around, is that the same thing as wanting me around?”

  I knew my face had to be flaming. “Yes, I guess that’s what it means,” I whispered, my eyes fastened on the road.

  We were turning onto my street, where I was certain my mother was waiting by the front door, making sure I hadn’t come to any harm. Michael slowed the car and pulled up just out of sight of the house. Turning in his seat, he put a finger beneath my chin to raise my face, forcing me to look into his eyes.

  What I saw there was steady and bright. He was smiling that wonderful smile, and when he spoke, his voice was low.

  “I don’t not want you around either,” he said. “And I know we haven’t had the time or privacy to talk this through, but just so you don’t worry—this is not the norm for me. I don’t give girls the rush. I’ve dated a little—taken girls to dances and the movies with a group of friends—but I’ve never had anything like—you—happen to me.”

  I was already shaking my head. “Me neither.”

  He looked at me a minute more, and his finger moved from my chin to the side of my face, stroking lightly just along my hairline. He didn’t say anything, and I was able to keep whatever he was thinking from reaching me.

  At last, regretfully, he dropped his hand and coasted the car to the front of my house. Before I could even turn, he had jumped out and come around to open my door for me, helping me get out my bag, too.

  I could feel my mom was lurking beyond the front door, but I couldn’t go in without bringing up what I’d expected Michael to ask since we’d met at my locker.

  “You didn’t mention—what happened at lunch.” It was a statement, but Michael answered the question he heard behind my words.

  “I know. Car ride wasn’t long enough. I was thinking—I’m working tomorrow, but would you be able to hang out after school on Thursday? We could go out to Lancer Park and just… talk.”

  I wasn’t sure I could endure two more days without clearing the air, but I nodded. “I think I can. I’ll have to ask my mom. Is the park in town?”

  “Just outside. Would it be better if I asked your mom?” “No!” I was quick to answer. If my mom sensed that Michael knew that I could hear minds… well, I wasn’t sure what would happen, but it wouldn’t be good. “Thanks. My parents can be a little overprotective. Part of my whole. . deal.” I made a face, but Michael only smiled.

  “Okay. I’ll leave it to you then. I’ll be here tomorrow at seven-thirty to pick you up, all right?”

  I smiled back at him. “I’ll see you then.”

  Getting permission from my parents to go to Lancer Park with Michael wasn’t as difficult as I had anticipated. There was the expected flare of surprise and the same predictions of disaster if I slipped up and revealed my ability.
I was able to avoid out and out lying, since they didn’t ask me if Michael already knew about it. Eventually, they acquiesced, with lots of warnings to be careful, to keep up my blocks and my guard.

  I was waiting by the door the next morning when the powder blue Mustang slid down the street at a safe and respectful speed and pulled up in front of our house.

  “Mom! I’ll see you after school!” I called. My heart was pounding. I grabbed my bag and concentrated on walking calmly and coolly out the door.

  Michael was out of the car and opening the door for me. I noticed, for the first time, how he was dressed. It seemed before I had never looked away from his eyes. Today he was wearing faded but decent looking jeans and a gray t-shirt. He smiled as I approached.

  “Good morning, “ he greeted me, and I shivered at his voice. What was it, I asked myself, that made me feel this way? All I had to do was see him and I felt swoonish, if that was even a word.

  “Good morning,” I answered. “Looks like it’s going to be a pretty day.”

  Michael glanced at the sky through the windshield as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He smirked at me. “Yep, it’s Florida. Pretty days are the rule, more often than not.”

  I cringed inwardly. What a trite, stupid thing to say, talking about the weather of all things!

  But Michael didn’t seem to notice my embarrassment. “Guess it’s a lot more of a sure thing here than it was in Wisconsin.”

  I was surprised that he remembered the last place I had lived. “That’s not saying much, but yeah, it is.”

  We were both quiet, then I ventured, “I really do appreciate the ride. You’re possibly saving me from a horrible fate, if I had to walk.”

  Michael laughed easily as he turned a corner. “Oh, yeah? What’s that? Blisters?”

  “No!” I answered, my eyes widening. “You know, all the wildlife danger. Scorpions, snakes and alligators! Oh, and those biting ants, too.”

  This time he laughed in earnest. “You’re not serious, are you?”