Emotionally Charged Page 5

  My imagination went on its own race into the future, Jake and me running through deserted warehouses, giggling, speeding after each other, tumbling into a heap, our lips so close and then...

  Something caught my eye over at the fire.

  My sight had improved as well, the way it had the night after I volunteered at the shelter. A sheet of corrugated iron peeled itself off the roof, lifting under the hot gusts from the fire like a strange kite. It lingered in the air then fell in a deadly dive bomb straight at one of the firefighters.

  I ran.

  I bolted toward the man. I’d never moved so fast. Was I still visible or just a blur?

  I collided with the firefighter in a tackle and we rolled six feet, tumbling together. The corrugated iron scraped and tore on the concrete right where he had been.

  The firefighter looked from me to the jagged, red-hot iron and back again with his jaw unhinged. His face softened and I held my breath, waiting for the praise I’d missed with the last save I made.

  Instead I found myself wrenched to my feet and dragged away.

  “Idiot! What were you thinking?” Jake hissed as he pulled me along, jostling me roughly as I stumbled to keep up. We moved fast and were back at the car before I knew it. “We can’t be seen here. You can’t do things like that! People will start asking questions.”

  I stuttered, screwing my face up to stop myself crying. He might as well have slapped me. “I... I didn’t do good?”

  “It’s important we all keep a low profile.” Jake’s eyes had turned stony. “You’re not going to be trouble for us? Trying to be a big hero?”

  “No, I...” I had been trying to be a hero. Was that wrong? I felt like a dumb, naïve child to have thought saving a life in the real world would be like it was on TV. Everything had repercussions and I had acted without considering any consequences for myself or Jake’s team. I hung my head. “I just wanted to help him. I’m sorry. I get we have to do things carefully.”

  Emma, Jamie and Donny caught up. I looked around them for support but could tell they were all irritated, or downright angry. I felt broken inside, and tried to wipe away a tear before the others saw it on my cheek.

  Jake softened and my world turned right again. “It’s okay. It’s easy to get caught up in the power sometimes. You did a good thing. Just remember, if you’re going to be part of the team, you have to learn to take orders. No running off and being a hero on your own.”

  I nodded, relieved as the team’s anger at me lessened. “Of course. I can do that. I’ll follow orders. I want to be part of the team more than anything.”

  No one talked on the drive home. I kept busy berating myself internally. I had to be smarter or they wouldn’t accept me. I should have known I wasn’t special enough as is to get an easy A on their empath tests. I never was good at exams.

  Those thoughts mixed with the thrill I’d felt when saving the fireman’s life. Even if it was wrong to expose myself or my powers, deep inside I felt like I’d done the right thing. Jake was probably just angry I got there first and beat him at his own hero game. Maybe he was secretly impressed.

  Would the fireman have thanked me if he’d had the chance?

  Of course he would have. Only emotionless gray-eyed robot types didn’t thank people.

  Once those eyes came into my head, I couldn’t wipe them away again for the rest of the night.

  Chapter Nine

  I woke up the next morning to Emma jumping on the side of my bed. I gasped, shocked out of sleepiness by her sudden appearance in my room.

  She giggled and headed back out the door, calling over her shoulder. “Come on, get up. Make yourself pretty and meet us in the formal lounge. We’ll be waaaaaiting.”

  Could it be? Formal lounge, formal initiation into the team?

  I rushed through a shower and put on my best choice of limited clothing. I tried three options for my hair then left it out long, running Emma’s straightener over just the front to tidy it up.

  I tried two lounge rooms before I found the formal one where everyone waited. I wasn’t sure I’d been in this one before. A massive gilt-framed mirror dominated one wall, and everyone sat in armchairs around a stool in front of it.

  Emma stood up, squealing. “It’s makeover time!”

  She ushered me onto the stool and I sat awkwardly, feeling like the star of a very terrible one-woman show. “Makeover?” I didn’t see any wardrobe or makeup or hairdressing stuff.

  Jake leant forward in his armchair and smirked, his wide shoulders on display in a fitted shirt. “We want you on the team, Livvy.”

  He wants me on the team. I didn’t screw up. I beamed.

  Jake continued, “So we need you to be the best you can be.”

  “Be. Yourself. But. Better!” Emma shouted, punctuating each word with a clap.

  Okay, and that meant makeover? Could be fun. Just like on reality shows. I could go a fancy new hairstyle for sure. The prospect of dying it something other than brown had me smiling. I was getting the princess treatment again, and I liked it.

  I had worried I’d blown it last night with my hero stunt. Jake didn’t seem angry anymore, but eyed me critically, running a hand through his golden hair and rubbing his chiseled chin.

  I tried to sit tall and not be overwhelmed with self-consciousness as everyone visibly judged my appearance. It was the hardest thing I’d done since ever.

  Emma circled me and played with my hair. “You’re already so pretty; there won’t be too much work to do. Just need a few things to really make you pop.”

  I burned with a blush. People had told me I was pretty before, but I’d figured I was average-pretty at best. And pretty wasn’t amazing. It would be nice to be amazing like everyone else in this room.

  “If you have suggestions for my hair, I’m up for anything.” I poked my loose hair to highlight my fashion cluelessness.

  “We’ll do the hair for sure, and much more. Don’t worry. Any work you have done is on us.” Emma grinned.

  Hang on, what? “Work done?” I asked.

  Jamie spoke up. “She should get her lips and tits filled.”

  I laughed out loud but no one else did.

  My laughter shut off fast. “Oh. I thought you were joking.”

  Jake cut in with a soft tone. “Sorry, Jamie can be a bit crass. Don’t worry; it wouldn’t be that extreme. Not as much as Emma’s had done. It wouldn’t suit your frame.”

  Emma folded her arms under her abundant bust as though to demonstrate.

  “She could also have the bridge of her nose taken down a little, and narrowed at the base,” Donny said in his quiet, authoritative voice.

  Jake nodded. “You’re right, Donny. Always with the eye for detail.”

  I wanted to hide. Were they seriously talking about cosmetic surgery? Sitting there deciding on how to rebuild my body? They were pranking; they must have been. Just pushing it to see how long they could keep me going.

  At least Jake wasn’t joining in being as critical as the others.

  “She needs to get some dental work done too. The crooked front teeth have to go,” Jake said.

  Something shattered inside me.

  There was no joke here.

  My mouth fell open as the concept settled in. They expect me to get cosmetic surgery to be part of the team. And dental work. I closed my mouth. Did I really think someone like Jake could be attracted to me as I was? Maybe not, but I’d hoped. I’d hoped he’d seen beyond the brown-haired, brown-eyed, average-pretty to something special inside. That had been my dream. Not him wanting to change me into something else.

  “Honey, don’t feel bad! It’s not like it’s just you. We’ve all had work done.” Emma hugged me around the shoulders then pounced back into an empty armchair. “We’re talking about way less for you than I had. But then, I wanted a lot of it myself.”

  All of them? Even the guys? I looked around at them, all like fresh-out-of-the-box action figures, and they suddenly seemed too perfect. All
of them had been carefully designed and crafted. “Why?”

  “To be this fab-u-lous,” Emma drawled, posing like a model in her chair.

  Jake tilted his head and gave me a kind smile. It helped settle my nerves better than hot chocolate. His smile made everything better and I started wondering if I could get plastic surgery, for him, if it would keep him near me, so I could always feel this warm and safe. “We all do it because it helps with our powers. Same with keeping ourselves in good shape. It pays off to be attractive.”

  “I told you. Lust is where the power is at,” Emma said.

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Donny’s voice was dryer than usual. He spoke slowly, like he was trying to wake a sleepwalker, or talking to someone really dumb. “When people are physically attracted to us, we receive power from that emotion. It means we can get them to do what we want. Anything we suggest is accepted easily, a bit like hypnotism. The more attracted they are, the better it works. So we make ourselves physically desirable. Did you really think we were all born this perfect?”

  Emma chimed in. “Haven’t you ever had it easy picking up guys and getting them to do whatever you want? Buy you drinks, give you their number, give you their whole damn wallet?”

  Not really. There had never been anyone I was interested enough in to try picking up. I was waiting for my prince, my Jake. Sure, there had been a couple of guys who had hit on me before but I’d never thought that I could use that to my advantage, and why would I ask for their wallet?

  Just how open to suggestion did this attraction power make people?

  The air rushed out of me so quickly I felt faint. Would that power make someone open to the suggestion of leaving home with a group of strangers in the middle of the night?

  Everything spiraled. It can’t be... I stared at the floor, trying to take steady breaths.

  I should have asked more questions. I should have gone home and thought about what I was doing. I should have asked my parents. Any sane person would have done those things. I liked to think I was, but I also didn’t like the idea that Jake had used his powers on me. The two concepts couldn’t co-exist.

  I looked up to ask something, anything to get the reassurance that he hadn’t done what I thought.

  Jake smiled. His perfect smile. My concerns fell away like sand under a wave. In the past, that wave buoyed me and left me floating blissfully, but now the water was cold, leaving me feeling numb and confused. Was it happening again? I could hardly tell my own desires and emotions over what I was being told I should do. I do want this. I’m following my dream. Maybe body alteration didn’t fit into my dream but I hadn’t ever been really clear on what my dreams were anyway.

  “So, my lovely Livvy, the question is—what are you willing to do to be part of the team? If you can’t even handle some cosmetic surgery...”

  The thought that my chance to be part of the team was slipping away made me panicky. I didn’t think I could cope with going home, being normal again after seeing how Jake and the others lived. The way I felt after saving the guy in the alley, after saving the fireman—maybe that was the dream I should be chasing. If I wanted to be a hero, to be exceptional, my best chance to do that was with these people who were unlike anyone I’d ever met before.

  “Anything.” I took a moment, my smile wide. This was the right decision. “I’ll do anything.”

  Chapter Ten

  I moped up and down the shopping mall, arms loaded with fancy bags from deluxe boutiques.

  I should have felt like a celebrity, out on a spending spree with a fat wad of someone else’s cash, but I was stressing about buying the right things to make myself look better. Like if I bought the right dress, the team would decide I looked fine just the way I was. Even if that could work, how was I supposed to know which dress that was? I was no style expert. I wished Emma was here to guide me, but she had gone off on some important lunch date. She had great fashion sense and everything she wore looked perfect on her, like it had been custom fitted.

  Or was it her that had been custom fitted to the clothes? Just how much work had she had done to look so magazine-cover perfect? How did she look before?

  After the ‘makeover’ meeting, Jake said he wouldn’t rush me into anything major. It was all just something to think about for now. They wanted me on the team and seemed happy I was willing to do what I needed to be with them.

  Jake told me there were so few people like us. Maybe he felt they couldn’t leave me out, that they needed every empath they could find. But I had to step up and be valuable to the group. I had to be the best version of me, to fit in with them. I just hope I can do it without going under the knife.

  Whether it was my thoughts or the swag weighing me down, I felt exhausted. I needed fuel, and stepped out of the glittery mall onto the street to find a coffee shop.

  That was when I saw him again.

  He sat across the street in a park. His eyes were down, reading a book, but I didn’t need to see them to know their exact shade of gray.

  I felt bad that I’d yelled at him. Sure, I’d saved him from further beating, and that was a point to me, but yelling at the victim wasn’t very heroic behavior.

  I decided to apologize and see how he was recovering. Now we were in a less stressed environment, maybe he’d also say thank you, which I had to admit I really wanted. It wasn’t just a validation thing. I needed reassurance to know I’d done the right thing, since “the right thing” was starting to get very fuzzy in my mind.

  I took a deep breath to build up some courage and marched across the road.

  Very few people were in the park, and if they were, they rushed through it like a shortcut rather than lingering in the neglected space. The swing set was rusted and both swings had been tangled up around the top beam. A wooden play fort dominated the central area. It was the kind which wouldn’t get built these days for being too dangerous for kids, but the kind kids loved. A maze of timber rooms and too-high balance beams and splintery surfaces—it looked like adventure. One boy pointed longingly in its direction before being dragged the other way by his dad. The lawn throughout was uneven, spotted with dandelions and longer than it should be.

  I shuffled through it to the bench where the guy I’d saved sat.

  I stood still in front of him, and he didn’t move.

  Whether he was ignoring me, or absorbed in the dog-eared paperback, I couldn’t tell. The same weird, cold, emptiness I’d felt when I first saw him crept into my bones. I cleared my throat and he looked up.

  He looked better in the daylight, less pasty and more ivory skinned. I spaced out for a moment, wondering how my olive skin would look pressed against it. Where did that thought come from?

  “Hi?” He sounded confused. Did he recognize me? I was wearing the same red trench coat I’d been wearing since leaving home, which I figured was pretty memorable.

  There was a slight rosiness to his cheeks and under his eyes, almost like he’d been crying, but I couldn’t get an emotional read on him.

  “Do you remember the other night? I was, uh, in the alley, and those guys, and, um, I’m Livvy.” My inability to sense any hint of emotion from this guy threw me. It was just like watching TV. I saw the movement and angles of his face and body but couldn’t sense anything real. Almost as though he wasn’t even really there.

  “I remember.” He nodded slowly. I wanted to face palm. Of course he remembered. It wasn’t the sort of thing you’d just forget, like what you had for lunch last week. I shuffled on the spot, ready to leave in embarrassment.

  “I’m Dean,” he said, and a tiny smile emerged. Or maybe it was a nervous tic. I couldn’t tell either way with this blank slate. Even Donny showed mountains of emotion in comparison. But that tiny smile gave me courage.

  “I was just about to get a coffee. Want to join me?” I thumb-pointed over my shoulder at the café in front of the mall.

  Dean stared at it for a moment, then back up at me, his eyebrows twitching.
He closed his book. It was so worn, it had no real cover anymore. I wondered what he was reading.

  “Sure.”

  He stood up and I juggled my bags back into carrying order as we crossed the road.

  I paid at the counter for a cappuccino with extra froth and Dean waved off getting anything, just helped himself to some table water. We took a booth and my bags piled around me on the bench.

  “So...” I struggled to be casual. “Are you feeling okay? Since, you know, I saved you from those guys?”

  Dean shrugged and nodded but didn’t say anything.

  The red around Dean’s eyes made them look less gray, more the color of worn denim. They had a depth I kept falling into, like a deep, icy lake. I couldn’t help staring, trying to get some hint of what this guy felt. But all I got from him was that same chilling, hollow feeling.

  He leaned back in the booth and unzipped his jacket. The baggy shirt underneath was gray and it struck me that he seemed to be wearing the same clothes I’d seen him in before. Not that they were unique in any way to tell for sure. They were clean, and I smelled plain soap and a smoky musk as he took off his jacket. The stitching had come undone around the collar of the T-shirt and the fabric looked thin.

  His hair fell in front of his face, feathery and also clean. Maybe it just looked stringy the other night from sweat.

  His lips moved.

  Shoot. I had completely missed what he’d said. “Uh, sorry, what?”

  “I asked if there was something specific you wanted to talk to me about.” When I hesitated, feeling foolish for the whole situation, he continued. “Are you okay? You seem upset. At least, you aren’t smiling like a fool like you were after chasing off those guys.”

  Great. I had no idea what he was feeling and here he was making guesses about me.

  I pulled my lips closed tight. “It’s just my teeth. They’re all crooked. I didn’t mind so much before, but now I kind of hate them.”

  “You’re prettier when you aren’t doubting yourself.”