“What, you mean, like, ESP?” My nose felt clean, and I put my hand down.
“Not exactly,” she said, gently tapping the tip of her pen against her top lip. “More like the sense that something is destined.”
“Um …” Okay, this was getting a little intense. A second ago we’d been joking about math tests and now we were suddenly onto destiny?
Amanda didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t answering her. She leaned forward and touched me lightly on the shoulder with her pen. “It’s you,” she said.
“What?” I said, not sure how to communicate to her that she was starting to freak me out.
Oblivious to my monosyllabic, unenthusiastic response, and with a sure smile on her face, she exhaled, leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes. “You’re going to be my guide.” Her voice was quiet.
Even though I had no idea what Amanda was talking about, I felt my heart pounding in my chest. “Your guide?” I asked, and my voice was as low as hers had been.
Amanda opened her eyes and stared straight at me. “I knew I’d find you,” she said.
And since I didn’t know what to say back, I didn’t say anything at all.
Occasionally a geological occurrence takes place that is so dramatic, it actually shifts the earth on its axis. A tsunami. An earthquake. If you could go into outer space and film the planet at the exact moment the event occurs, you would literally witness the world move.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that is what meeting Amanda Valentino would be for me.
Nia snickered when Mr. Thornhill offered us a chance to “come clean” right after we’d each picked up a bucket filled with rags, rolls of paper towels, and cleaning products piled by the door. It took me a minute to get the joke about cleaning, but I’m not sure if that was because Nia’s smarter than I am or if it’s because I was so confused by all the thoughts whirling through my head that I didn’t have room in my brain for a pun.
When nobody said anything, he just gestured toward the door and we trooped out in a line: Hal first, then Nia, then me.
“It’s not like we’re going to be able to get the stuff off his car with this,” I pointed out, rattling the bucket toward their backs. “Spray paint doesn’t exactly wash off.”
Neither of them said anything, as if during lunch they’d made a pact to ignore me. Well, two could play at that game, and I didn’t say anything more. A crowd was gathered by the gate to the faculty parking lot to gape at Mr. Thornhill’s car (some people had out their phones and were taking pictures); at first the security guard, who was holding them back, wouldn’t let us through. Hal had to explain for about fifty years that we had to go to the car, and even then the guy was reluctant to let us pass. As we walked past him, I spotted Lee’s curly dark hair towering above the crowd and then I saw Traci, Heidi, and Jake, who were all standing with him. Lee saw me before they did, maybe because he’s so tall, and he put his fists up over his head and shouted, “Go, Callie!” as Traci and Heidi clapped and Jake whistled. I hoped Hal and Nia heard them. I hoped they realized who they were ignoring.
The VP’s ancient Honda Civic was parked far enough away from the crowd that the noise of the onlookers was muffled, or maybe it was just that the sensory overload of looking at something so vivid made it difficult to register anything else. The clouds had rolled in since we’d first looked out Thornhill’s office window, but even in the watery sunlight of a March afternoon, the car pulsed with color and energy.
“Wow,” said Hal.
I had to agree. From a distance, we’d only been able to see the biggest shapes, but up close you could make out the detail work—tiny birds carrying intricate olive branches, long daisy chains intertwining with meticulously drawn rainbows. It wasn’t just bright and colorful, it was really, really good art.
Suddenly, I thought of something. Despite my private vow not to talk to either Hal or Nia, I turned to Hal, who was standing next to me admiring the lunar landscape that covered the driver’s side of the windshield. “Did you draw this?”
Either Hal was seriously ignoring me or he hadn’t heard what I said. He reached out with his index finger and traced the edge of the moon. “Hey, it’s—” he started to say, but before he could finish, I grabbed his arm.
“Did you do this?”
“What?” He turned to face me but I could tell he was still absorbed in admiring the masterpiece that was Thornhill’s car. I noticed that after he’d touched the moon, his finger had a light coating of bluish-white.
“I said, did you draw this?” Hal was the best artist at Endeavor, and there was no doubt someone with real talent had decorated this car.
“I wish,” he said. He turned back to admire the car. “Maybe I could have done this, but only with her, you know?” I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I couldn’t deny that Hal’s tone was friendly enough. I wondered if I’d been paranoid to think he and Nia were ignoring me.
“How did you even know her?” I hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory, but my question came out like an attack.
Hal didn’t say anything, but Nia did. “Oh, what, now you’re the holder of the social registry for the entire grade?”
None of the other I-Girls would have tolerated Nia’s being so rude, but the three of them are way better at confrontations than I am. For a second I tried to think up a snappy comeback,
but when nothing came to me, I just ended up with, “I didn’t realize you guys were friends, that’s all.” Then I shrugged, like there hadn’t been any judgment in my assumption.
I’d expected Nia to back off, but instead she kept going. “Oh, right,” she said. “You and your friends just—”
“Look!” said Hal. He’d been circling the car, and now he was pointing at the trunk.
Glad to have an excuse not to fight with Nia without having to feel like a wimp, I went over to where he was standing and followed his finger. Scattered across the trunk were half a dozen bears, birds, and cats that were the same as the ones on our lockers. There was another animal, too—a lizard of some sort. Then there were stars and moons and a bunch of peace signs.
“That’s a lizard,” I said, half to myself and half out loud. “And that’s a cat—”
“It’s a cougar,” said Hal, rubbing his wrist unconsciously for a second.
I hadn’t noticed that Nia had come up behind me until she spat out, “You thought it was a cat? It doesn’t look anything like a cat.”
This time my comeback was out of my mouth before I even realized I’d formulated it. “Gee, I didn’t realize you were such a friggin' nature girl, Nia,” I snapped. “When you’re on the Discovery Channel talking about the indigenous wildlife of Orion, I’ll be sure to watch.”
“Like I’d even care."
“Um, could you two—” said Hal quietly.
But Nia was on a roll. “And where do you come off questioning our friendships with Amanda anyway? What about yours? I mean, I never saw her hanging out with you and your stupid I-Girls. You probably tried