Part 5 (1/2)

I'm so sorry...

She lied to us.

It's not her fault.

She's fine. She's fine. Nothing happened.

I believed him. He said I was beautiful... It is my fault.

As the initial violent spinning lessens, I'm able to count.

Dr. Brodie taught me counting helps find the end. It works.

At 100, I move to my next ritual. I turn my attention to the jellyfish nightlight. I count farther and wait for the light to change from a pulsing white blob back into a cute mood lamp with three jellyfish swimming inside.

Like I said. I love this thing. The jellyfish are friends. Sort of. Witnesses, mostly.

Either way, I can't survive this without them.

When I'm able to see the details of their transparent, paper-thin tentacles, I know it's safe for me to move. That's when I stop counting. If I stop too soon, I end up crying like a freak and sometimes I can't stop. It scares my family. Heck, it scares me too.

Tonight, I don't let myself move until I reach number 459.

Not the worst number, but last month I had made it down to the 20's. I thought it was going to count down to zero and finally be over for me.

I believed what everyone else believed. That I was getting better. Guess not.

I reach for a pen and scratch the number into the column of numbers I've carved into the wood on my desk. My history book is still open on the final exam Study Guide. At least the stupid nightmare allowed me six good hours of sleep before surfacing. That's way more than my usual. I'll be feeling good for the first round of finals.

Better, I'll be able to hang around with the family and have breakfast instead of driving off early to nap. We can all sit together and talk about my new job...and how much I really like my new friend. My new friend that is also a guy.

My heart races in a good way as green eyes and a dimple erase all remaining shreds of the nightmare from my mind. I imagine the proud, happy smiles of Mom, Dad, and Kika when I mention that my new friend is really cute. I won't even have to lie about that. It will also kill them when I refuse to tell his name. Not yet.

Oh. What Progress!

Glimmers of success, and the possibilities ahead replace my last jagged heartbeats with an amazing feeling of hope.

Chapter Six.

Gray It's Monday lunch hour. I've been avoiding talking to Jess all day, mostly because I've been telling myself I need more time to think of exactly what I'm going to say to her. Besides, I have no idea how we're supposed to start this whole rent-a-boyfriend thing. But of course, that's not the direct truth. I'm simply afraid, as usual. Gray Porter, the chicken-s.h.i.+t, loser is afraid of Jess Jordan, the hundred pound girl. Again. Still. Always. At least I can admit it. Besides, she seems to be avoiding me, too.

”c.r.a.p,” I mutter and step back a little as I spot Jess exit the building.

She never hangs outside at lunch, but nothing's on schedule during finals. Today, everyone's cleaning out lockers and milling around. My friends have also spotted Jess walking across the quad. We usually comment on anything out of the ordinary crossing our vantage point on the high steps leading to the teacher parking lot. Jess Jordan, when sighted, is always an easy target for conversation.

”Look. Jess Jordan's stealing one of the Bunsen burners and some beakers to boot,” says my best friend, Corey Nash. He's moved to the edge of the steps to get a better view of the giant pile of stuff she's hauling toward her car. ”That girl would so be the type to have some sort of secret school supply theft ring. She might be selling stuff on eBay or Craigslist right now. She probably makes millions, and no one's caught on yet!”

”Doubtful. She already has more money than G.o.d,” Claire Bradford pipes in, trying to catch my eye.

I ignore her. Claire's not part of our usual crowd. She's been hanging around a lot. Corey says she's flirting with him, but our friend Mich.e.l.le says she's into me. I hope not. She's pretty, but she's mean and she talks way too much. Like right now.

”She's not stealing,” Claire continues. ”She has her very own set of weirdo science junk.” Claire smiles, and tosses her super straightened-almost stiff looking hair around her shoulders.

”How do you know?” Corey asks, sliding closer to her. I almost laugh because he's totally trying to look down her s.h.i.+rt. Claire's so focused on me, she has no clue.

”Jess was my lab partner this entire semester. Mrs. Smith loves that girl. They're constantly chatting about supplies and actual science. I think Jess helps the teacher order the stuff for cla.s.s...like for fun. Jess Jordan is such a geek.”

She flips her hair again, and I can tell she's hoping I'll turn to look at her.

I don't.

”Brutal,” says Corey, shooting Claire his sympathetic, *interested look'. Corey's hoping his focus on Claire will get him some action. But mostly, he wants to make Mich.e.l.le jealous for rejecting him last month. ”How'd you survive working with her?” Corey mock-shudders.

”I got an amazing grade. But, she was just so harsh. If it weren't for the part where she called me stupid with her eyes every single day, I'd beg to be her partner next year,” Claire says.

”Come on,” I defend Jess. ”She's not so bad. She's...nice actually. If you get to know her.”

”Smoke-crack-much, Porter? Jess Jordan is like every female super villain I can think of: hot, smart, dangerous and frightening as h.e.l.l,” Corey snickers. ”No way is she nice.”

Adding a sulky pout, Claire joins in, ”I can't believe you'd say she's hot.”

I try again. ”Jess is anything but a super villain. And yeah, she's amazing hot,” I add because I know it will make Claire mad. And because it's true.

Corey blinks at me. His smile fades when he gets I'm serious. Thankfully, he's too stunned to speak. For Corey Nash, this a rare moment.

Mich.e.l.le finally joins us along with half of her cheerleading squad. The three of us have been best friends forever.

”What's the topic?” Mich.e.l.le ramps in as she and her friends drop their backpacks and dig into lunches.

”Gray is suddenly convinced Jess Jordan is nice,” Corey says, shooting Mich.e.l.le a look.

Mich.e.l.le raises one dark eyebrow at me. ”Really?”

”I hung out with her at the interview, and yes I think she's nice. So what?”

”Holy c.r.a.p. The girl must have pummeled your head,” Corey adds.

I can tell he's about to burst out laughing. There will be no more moments of silence coming from him.

”Of course she was nice...to you. You could make any girl be nice.” Claire winks at me and licks her lips. It's all I can do not to cringe.

Mich.e.l.le pulls a face, fluttering her eyes behind Claire's back. ”Who got the job?”