Chapter 1: Direct Contact
I put my head down and stumbled through the door to my first period class. My earphones were jammed tight into my ears and hidden by my long, dark hair so that when you looked at me, you couldn't tell that I was listening to a heavy metal song that drowned out everything else around me. And that was not because I was a music freak who didn't do anything but listen to music and knew all kinds of useless trivia about bands and whatnot. No way. I didn't actually like heavy metal or any one of the loud rock songs I always listened to that sounded a lot like people running screaming from a terrible disaster. The only reason I was listening to these songs was because that way, I couldn't hear the thoughts of everyone around me. Yes, you heard me right. I'm a telepathic orphan teenager with foster parents, a cocky younger brother and a lot of issues. But the issues might have something to do with the whole telepathic part. I guess that if my telepathy stopped at hearing people's thoughts, things would be a lot easier. But nooooo. There just had to be more amazing powers for the glamorous Nikki. Yeah right. Every time I come in contact with someone's skin, I immediately know their life story. As in, everything about the person in under a second. And then, it's almost as if it's imprinted into my brain because I never forget a detail. And trust me, some details are better off forgotten. But whatever. There's no chance of changing any of that, so why dwell on the worst parts of my life? Oh, right. Because there isn't anything else to dwell on. I glanced up at the clock above the door as I slid into my seat in the back of the class and quickly tugged my headphones out of my ears. I stuffed them into the pocket of my jacket and sighed. Any moment now, Ms. Karsteen would walk in and begin class in her snooty rich-girl voice. Many people don't understand why she would ever be a teacher, but I knew it was because of her parents. She used to be a rich little daddy's girl, and after he dies, it was just her and her mom, spending her father's money. Then she started hanging out with a guy who had been arrested twice, and ever since then her mother hasn't warmed up to her. So she took a job as a teacher, but she still has her rich-girl roots. How do I know this? Well, I touched her hand.