Do you by any chance remember that whole 'normal' thing I talked about? Yeah, when I said I liked it?
Unfortunately I never got to enjoy it. First I had to deal with my mom asking me about Jess over breakfast. I'd forgotten that I had told her about the date we went on Friday, at least until she sat down across from me and said, with a smile, "So, how is it going with the girl?"
"Th-The girl? What – Oh." I sighed. "Um, it's not."
Mom raised her eyebrows and I shrugged. "Not going, I mean." I looked down at my plate. "She's just sixteen."
"Oh. I see." There was an awkward silence. My mom was really disappointed in me for getting in trouble with the law – not even because it was trouble, but because it wasn't for a good reason, and, well, it was really stupid, and it left a permanent mark on my record, even if I'd done it before I turned eighteen.
"I trust you, Rob," She said, with a smile. "You'll do the right thing." Of course, that made me feel even guiltier, since last time she trusted me I'd done the opposite…
Anyway, things seemed normal after that. I went to school, ignored Wendell and a couple of my teachers, and basically did what I usually do. It really was my normal routine, nothing wrong with it – but my thoughts kept straying back to Mastriani.
Not all the time. I wasn't pining away or anything. I just… wondered how she was doing, and if she still thought I was a jerk, even after our conversation the other day. I also wondered what would happen when detention rolled around. I figured there were three ways it could go: 1) We completely ignored each other, 2) She got mad at me again, or 3) She kept talking to me, trying to find out what I was on probation for.
I know, very exciting, right?
But one thing I never expected was her just… not showing up. I mean, there is no way her detention was lifted. She'd punched that Day guy just last week, which had to add at least another week of detention, on top of the several weeks I was sure she already had. And she'd never skipped detention before that I knew of.
But after fifteen minutes of sitting there, watching the door, I realized that she wasn't going to come, and obviously Miss Clemmings knew that, because she hadn't made a big deal out of it. Maybe she was sick?
I sighed, sitting back in my chair, and finally looked away from the door. Well, back to the good old detention before Mastriani came along: i.e. sitting and watching the plays, or reading a book, or trying not to fall asleep.
I'd managed to work through all of the above options several times by the time Hank grew bored with his third paper football and leaned over to whisper to me, "Hey, did you hear? Your girlfriend got hauled off by the cops today."
"She's not my girlfriend," Was all I said, too busy trying to ignore him and wondering exactly why the drama department chose such boring plays. Then again, I guess any play will get boring by the twentieth time you've seen it rehearsed.
Hank reached out and shoved my shoulder, trying to get my attention. That guy can't stand silence. He's the one who starts 60 percent of all the arguments or fights in detention, because he just doesn't know when to shut up. "Yeah, whatever man. It's true, though. Smith saw it. She left in the middle of the day with a couple of cops." He grinned, and since he was leaning over to whisper to me without attracting Miss Clemmings's attention, I was lucky enough to be blasted with his bad breath.
I leaned back, disgusted. "Get off me, Wendell."
He sat back, looking annoyed. "It's true. Ask Smith."
Normally, I wouldn't listen to a word the idiot said, but… I really was bored and besides, Smith wasn't prone to lies.
So I reached over and grabbed Wendell's paper that hadn't yet been spit on, and turned to snatch the pen Wylie had been using to carve his name into the arm of his seat. He looked up at me indignantly, but I ignored him, scribbling down a note. Smith, is it true about Mastriani getting dragged off by cops? – Rob
Then I folded it up and wrote George on the front, before handing it to the guy in front of me.
If I had been any other guy, I'm pretty sure my note would never have reached its destination. But, luckily for me, I'm stronger – and taller – than all the guys here, and we all know it, which gives me some added perks, like them listening to me occasionally, and not peeking into my private things.
After about fifteen minutes the note made its way back, and I opened it, narrowing my eyes at what I read. No, they weren't cops – at least I don't think so. They weren't wearing uniforms. And she was just walking out with her dad, and them. They weren't dragging her.
I sighed. Wendell, making up rumors again. Jess was probably just going home early because she felt sick or something.
I was proved wrong about that as soon as I got home, when I saw her in the newspaper.
Front page, a not-so-flattering photo of her, right underneath the headline, "Touched By The Finger Of God" – how could I miss it?
May I take just a minute here to mention that 'normal' concept again. You know the one. Yeah, well, after I saw the newspaper, I pretty much knew it wasn't coming back any time soon.
Well, okay, it might have – there's a small possibility, anyway – if I hadn't read the newspaper and realized that not only does Mastriani play the flute, but apparently got struck by lightning the day I left her in the storm.
And she still smiled at me the next day!
If she'd gotten her psychic powers any other day, I swear to you, I would not have cared. I know it sounds weird, but it really would have been none of my business, and anyway I was trying not to talk to Mastriani.
But it was my fault.
She got struck by lightning and got psychic powers because I – and maybe that friend of hers – had left her to walk home in the storm. Me.
I've got to say, though, the thing that shocked me most – and actually made me pretty mad – was that she hadn't told me. I mean, I was there right before she was hit, and then – well, I took her to one of the missing kid's houses! And she still couldn't be bothered to tell me?
I was pretty angry about that until it occurred to me how confusing it must be to wake up one morning with psychic abilities; – and just in case you're wondering, yes I do believe they exist. Psychics, I mean – if it were me I wouldn't have told anyone right away either. Then I just started feeling worried about her. I mean, yeah, I know I said I'd stay away from her – but this new development changed everything. I even tried to call her, but the number was disconnected, which made sense. They were probably getting a lot of phone calls right about now.
I have to tell you, I was pretty conflicted about what to do, if anything. On the one hand, I really wanted to go see her, and ask if she was okay. On the other hand – well, we weren't really friends. We'd just gone out on one date and sat together in detention. She probably wouldn't appreciate me coming by.
I eventually decided not to go visit her – judging by the disconnected phone, things couldn't be too pretty on her street right now, and there was still the whole she-might-not-even-want-to-see-me thing – but I still wanted to talk to her, probably tomorrow in school.
Now, you might be asking, why? Why are you seeking Mastriani out, after all the reasons you just gave not to?
Well, it's simple: I was the one who took her to see that kid – who, I learned from the newspaper, was called Sean – so it was sort of my business. And… I really was worried about her.
Especially when I found out more about Sean, and his dad. When I learned that, I decided on the spot to talk to her as soon as possible.
Which was how I came to be leaning on her locker the next day, watching her and the fat friend – whose name I still didn't know – approach.
A/N: Short, I know, but this was all me. None of the above events were mentioned in Meg Cabots books, so I hope that gives me extra points to make up for the shorter chappie. :) Next chapter goes back to the book, I promise, right at the beginning of chapter 13.
