Whisper (12 page)

“—cuz her birthday’s coming up, whatever, and then suddenly Ben’s phone rings—”

I wish you’d pick up, you son of a bitch! Pick up.

“And it was the police on the phone!” Helena cut in, excited.

“Well, mall security,” Bree corrected. “As in rent-a-cops.” She always liked to remind us she had more street smarts than us because she was from L.A. “So, anyway, it turns out Ben has, like, a brother…who’s a total JD.”

“Shut up!” Helena pinched a piece of muffin between her thumb and forefinger.

Truck. Milk. Up.

I wish I could drop this kid in the dryer sometimes.

Bree mistook my shocked face for a response to her story.

“Yes, my naïve friend, it’s true.” She patted my arm. “So this little thug gets himself into a fight, in the middle of Hot Topic. He knocked over a whole rack of leather pants, then
chucked a bottle of Punky Colour hairspray at the other guy’s head.”

“Um, freak show…” Helena averted her gaze as if it was all happening here and now.

“Can you even believe Ben has a brother?” Bree’s green eyes were glittering from the gossip high. “Even
Parker
didn’t know.”

I swallowed. It must be a different brother, I thought. Jamie wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Well, if my brother acted like a retard?” Helena said. “And threw goth hair products? I’d definitely tell people I’m an only child.”

She and Bree snickered.

“So, Ben’s like, ‘Sorry, I gotta go,’” Bree continued. “He rushes off to go bail out his hood brother. And Parker’s like”—Bree mimed picking up a phone and lowered the pitch of her voice to imitate Parker—“‘I’m going to follow him to Hot Topic.’”

“Oh my god!” Helena pressed her palm to her chest.

“I know, right?” Bree slammed down her espresso. “Obviously he didn’t want her tagging along, but she’s
so
used to having her own way….”

“Yeah, well.” Helena stretched her long legs, jostling the table. “We all know Parker can be kind of a—”

Hope I made a good impression.

Hope I never have to see his ugly mug again.

“Um, Joy, what are you looking at?” Bree scanned the left side of the room after me.

“Nothing. Sorry.” My eyes were glued to the well-dressed, middle-aged man and woman shaking hands, smiling. Only instead of smiles I saw one desperate grimace, one plastic mask.

Bree’s empty Frappuccino cup sailed over my head into the trash can, startling me back to attention. “—and if it was my brother?” Bree was saying, “I’d let his hairspray-throwing ass fry.”

“Parker says their dad’s really strict or something,” Helena shrugged. “Ben’s fake ID says he’s eighteen, so he might be able to pass as the kid’s guardian, so their dad won’t find out.”

“Ben’s kind of a hero,” I said.

“I know,” Bree agreed, “and they’re totally perfect for each other. It’s sick.”

“Wish
I
had a boyfriend,” Helena said out loud.

Bree’s eyes went saucer size and bored into mine.
Please make her shut up before she gets on one of her self-pitying rants.

“Guys just don’t go for heavier girls, you know?”

Bree snorted. “Oh my god, Helena, you’re a size five.”

“But I’m short, so—”

“
Joy
has a boyfriend,” Bree interrupted, digging her elbow into my arm. “Remember that freak in government who gave you a flower? That was so classically funny, right?”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“What freak gave you a flower?” Helena poked at her stomach mournfully. “No one ever gives me flowers….”

“Can we talk about something else, you guys?” I was feeling pangs at the memory of Jamie’s eyes meeting mine after I trashed his offering. “It wasn’t really all that funny.”

“What?” Bree squinted at me, her clear green eyes suddenly stone. “Oh, yes, it friggin’ was, Joy. I was there, hello?”
I wish she’d just let it go and stop challenging me.

Whoa. I’d never Heard Bree sound irritated like that at me. What had I done to piss her off so much? I felt a flutter in my stomach, shrugged, looked down. “All right, it was
sort
of funny, whatever.”

“Hilarious.”

My face burned. “Right, okay. Hilarious.”

Bree smiled at me. I took three giant gulps of my drink, tried not to care that it was Parker and Ben’s. It was still warm and good; making a Whisper come true felt good no matter what.
I hope Parker never comes back,
Bree Whispered. I
want to be the queen bee and have Joy as my little fan girl.

I choked on my mocha.

“You okay?” Helena jumped to her feet. “Do I have to do that Heimlich thingie from P.E.?”

“No,” I croaked. “I’m okay, I’m fine….”

I wish I could take on that whole table of girls, yeah, starting with the blonde.

I gasped. “Whoa!” Mystified, my three friends followed my alarmed glance to the elegant fortyish businessman whose mind had just Whispered that. Was he a threat?
Should we call the police? Or was he just a bored perv with a laptop?

“Stefani?” Bree narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you freaking out?”

“Hey, don’t turn into your sister.”

“Don’t start drawing bugs. Take away her napkin.”

Nervous laughter. In my mind, Whispers were taking over, piling on top of each other. The strangers:

Wish I knew enough karate to kick his ass.

I’d like to give
her
a tonsil massage.

His bags better be packed by the time I get home.

And the friends:

Too bad someone forgot her ADD meds.

I hope she didn’t find out what Ben said about her.

I stood, feeling dizzy. “Be right back. Bathroom.”

“Okay,
bye
!” Bree said, in an overly sweet voice, as if I was crazy.

Here’s hoping she comes back normal.

I wish I knew how many calories were in a bite of muffin.

I shambled into a stall just as sour acid seared the back of my throat. Crashing to my knees, I vomited half a venti white mocha into the toilet. Tears stung my eyes. I gripped the side of the bowl to push myself up. Then I flushed, scraped at my mouth with a smear of tissue, and moaned softly.

Parker’s little fan girl? That’s how people thought of me?

I couldn’t go back. Couldn’t go back to the table.

Was that how Ben thought of me? Last night…we
connected, it was real…he even opened up about his brother. But what was he
really
thinking when we kissed?

My chest ached, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking those questions.

“I wish I’d never Heard any of this,” I said out loud, and the tears started falling. “I didn’t want to know…I just didn’t want to know!”

No wonder I’d been so quick to brush off Parker’s unkind Whisper this morning. No wonder I hadn’t wanted to see my grandparents for who they were. I didn’t want to know, not about my friends or my family or the rest of the world. I’d rather be clueless, clueless and happy.

Isn’t that what I’d been before, happy? A happy little idiot.

The long, rhythmic sobs I was making scared me. They didn’t sound like me. I wasn’t a crier. Icka was the crier.

Was this what she felt like?

Was this what my life was going to be like, from here on out?

“Get ready. You’re about to turn into me.”

I rocked back and forth on the cold, hard black-and-white floor.

All I wanted to do was shut this off.

Anything was better than feeling like this. Bring back the headache, the static, the thunderbolt pain. Turn off my Hearing, this time for good. I’d rather spend the rest of my life not knowing what people wanted—not knowing when I was hurting people or being used or making a fool of
myself—than spend another minute back in that café.

I stopped rocking. My palms felt clammy, my fingertips stiff and cold. Had I just wished to be rid of my gift, the one and only thing that defined me?

Oh god…I
did
wish that.

And I
meant
it.

“Oh, please make this new Hearing go away,” I said, but the words were lost in sobs and I only Heard them in my head. “I wish I could make it go, make it all go away. It’s just too much, I can’t, it’s all out of control, I just can’t.
Take it. Please. Make it go away….”

I wish I’d never Hear another stupid fucking Whisper as long as these cigarettes let me live.

“Icka!?” I jumped to my feet. The voice Whispering in my mind was unmistakably my sister’s. But what was Icka doing
here
?

I want to kill my Hearing dead, and kill me too if that’s what it takes.

“Icka, how did you get in here?” Heart hammering, I spun to face the door, but only my own pale, frazzled reflection greeted me in the mirror. “Hey…where’d you go? Where are you?” I passed through each of the two stalls, slamming in the door. I was alone.

This had never happened. I’d
never
Heard the voice of someone who wasn’t within a few yards of me.

Was I imagining it?

I pivoted and faced the sink again, forcing myself to gaze in the mirror. My hair poufed wildly in all directions, my
eyes looked bloodshot, and my skin was tinged with grayish green. Slap a hospital gown and straitjacket on me, and I’d be all ready for my tranquilizer shot. Had the stress of Hearing so much awful stuff severed my link with reality? Or maybe—I felt a surge of hope—maybe
all
the voices I’d Heard today were only figments of my deranged mind, not real at all?

I stared into my own eyes. They looked worn, pained, but still sharp. Not that blank, floating, untouchable look I’d seen in some of the homeless downtown. I sighed, and my reflection sighed with me. Much as I wanted things to be different, I couldn’t wish myself insane to make them so. No matter how bad things got, at least I could trust my own judgment.

And my judgment said, “
I Heard Icka.”
How…now that was another question. I was at a mall in Beaverton, she was on a college campus in Portland. My Hearing had grown stronger, that no longer seemed in question. But how much? Was I suddenly so scary powerful that I could pick up Whispers from thirty miles away? In which case, wouldn’t I also be Hearing the millions of Whispers between us?

I heard the squeak of sneakered footfalls at the exact same moment I noticed the
things
in the mirror. To the right of my reflection, by the door. A gleaming white row of…were those
urinals
?

I gulped. I’d been so upset I’d zombie walked into the men’s room!

The door creaked open, and for a pulse the café crowd
roared into my mind. I dove into the end stall just as the door slammed and male voices—familiar ones—took over the room.

“That’s the last fuckin’ time I try to bail you out of trouble.” Ben’s voice was preternaturally cool. “You almost cost me Frosh Number One. That makes you officially not my problem anymore.” Acid churned in my stomach again.
That’s
what Ben sounded like? He thought of Parker as “Frosh Number One”? To hide my girly blue sneakers from view, I climbed—quietly as I could—onto the toilet seat, and stooped forward to peek through the crack between stall wall and stall door.

Jamie’s head was bent toward his brother, the bone-straight bangs covering his right eye. He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt that said
ONLY USERS LOSE DRUGS
. “I said I was sorry.” His low-pitched voice sounded as soft as it did in his Wishes.

“Whatever. Just don’t come home tonight.” Ben wasn’t even looking at him, he was too busy doing a post-rain hair check, adjusting stray locks that were the same chestnut brown as Jamie’s hair, but shinier, brighter, kissed by the sun. “That’s free advice,” he went on. “Give Dad a day to cool down…maybe two.”
I want him to stay away as long as possible.

Jamie stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “The thing is…”
Wish I didn’t have to ask.
“I kinda don’t have any money.”

Ben laughed. “I’m not giving you shit, you little parasite,”
he said. “Go sleep over with one of your drug buddies. Or learn to work your sensitive side, charm some chick into being your sugar mama. Works for me!” He grinned hideously to examine his perfect teeth, then gave himself a smug nod of approval. Ugh! My pulse drummed through my face. I lied to my best friend and endured torturous guilt for
this
self-centered asshole?

“Someone’s in here.” Jamie turned to squint in my direction, his face suddenly anxious, twitching. No way could he see me through the tiny cracks, I reassured myself. Not unless he had X-ray vision.
I want out of this room!

“You’re such a tool.” Ben reached out and flicked Jamie’s forehead. “Of course someone’s in here, they’re probably just taking a shit. Who cares?”

“Are you really not picking this up?” I blinked. Picking
what
up? Jamie glanced toward the door, then lowered his voice so I could barely hear it. “Someone in here is seriously upset.”

I froze. How the hell could he possibly know how I was feeling? I wasn’t even crying anymore when they walked in!

Ben exhaled noisily. “Dude, just block it. Tune it out.” I held my breath. Block
what
?

“I can’t.” Jamie was clenching his teeth, having trouble forming his words. “I’m not…like…you.”

Pick it up. Tune it out. Block it. Were they talking about…? No. They
couldn’t
be talking about Whispers.

Mom had always told us our family were the only ones with the gift, and it only appeared in girls. Then again, when I thought about it logically—why had I never done
that before?—it was impossible for Mom to know that for certain. What if another family had the gift and Mom just didn’t know about them? Even within our family, we certainly weren’t in touch with every branch. What if somewhere down the line, hundreds of years ago, the gift mutated so boys could have it too?

In other words, there was a chance that Ben and Jamie could Hear. That it wasn’t just our family. That everything I thought I knew was…wrong. I rocked back against the wall, struggling to catch my breath. It felt like a soccer ball had slammed into my stomach.

“Holy shit.” Jamie’s voice went ragged with panic. “Too intense.”
I gotta get out of here.

I forced myself forward and pressed my face to the gap in time to see him leap for the door. Ben lunged after him. Whispered curses went off in my mind.

He needs to get the hell back in here, before those girls see he’s my brother—

Let me go, asshole—

Why can’t he just act
normal
for once!

Jamie gripped the door handle and pulled. A burst of crowd noise. Then Ben was grabbing his shoulders, using his full weight to drag Jamie off balance, slamming him against the wall beside the urinals. Jamie groaned as the back of his head smacked the tile, and I winced. Ben wasted no time in pinning him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ben was barely even out of breath. “I told your worthless ass to wait in this
john…till I leave with Frosh Number One.”

“Ben, let me go!” Jamie’s eyes were wide. “You
know
what’s going to happen to me.” Happen to him? Could Hearing my Whispers somehow…harm him? And why didn’t his brother seem to give a damn?

“Nothing’s going to happen.” The way Ben was pinning his right shoulder looked painful. “Come on, it’s way past time you grew a pair and learned to face this.”
I want my brother to pass as normal. I want to be able to stand next to him in public.
I cringed. Did my Whispers about Icka sound as shallow and selfish as Listening to this asshole?

“It’s getting worse,” Jamie begged. “I can’t ignore it, okay? I’ve tried to before and—”

“You have to
learn
to ignore it, man. Picture a thirty-foot stone Wall around yourself, like Dad says. It works.”

“For
you
.”

“Will you stop being such a wuss?” Ben grinned his arrogant grin. “This is going to work for you too.” I clenched my fist. He wasn’t even listening to his brother’s terror. “It won’t kill you, it’ll make you stronger. Now take a deep breath.”

I wish I were stronger….
It boiled my blood to see Jamie struggling like this, just to be what that conceited jerk wanted him to be. He inhaled through his mouth like a drowning man gasping for air. Then he blew out a sigh.

“See that?” Ben relaxed his grip on Jamie’s shoulder. “It’s already getting better. Piece of ca—”

With a wet crack, Jamie’s right fist smashed into Ben’s
perfect nose. My heart triple-skipped.

A dark ribbon of blood trickled down from Ben’s nostrils to his T-shirt before he could tip his face up to stop it. I felt a sick satisfaction, as if the blood had roused some angry spirit I didn’t even know lived inside me. Groaning, hands over his face, Ben let go of Jamie and started to back away, but Jamie lurched at him again, fists swinging wildly. The boy who gave me the lily and wanted me to be happy was gone. This Jamie was nothing but rage.

Want to get rid of this.
A punch slammed into Ben’s gut, and he sagged.
Don’t want this power anymore.
Slammed into his throat.
Want to be free of this.
Slammed into his jaw.
Want to be someone else.
Slammed into his ribs.

My stomach was flip-flopping. Angry satisfaction had turned to horror. Oh my god, why wasn’t someone walking in to use the restroom?

Ben’s body slumped sadly, his head still tipped back, right thumb and forefinger stopping the blood from his nose, other hand protecting his eyes. He wasn’t even trying to match his brother’s crazy new energy. He was just taking it, punch after punch, resigned to weathering the storm.

My eyes stung with tears, and I closed them. I couldn’t watch someone pulverize a face that looked just like his own. How had I ever missed seeing that these two were brothers? They even had the same square jaw….

Low sobs from outside the stall.

I couldn’t let this go on. I had to go out there. Try and stop Jamie from killing his brother, whatever the cost was.
Besides, if they could Hear my voice, they already knew who I was anyway.

“Stop hurting him!” I yelled, and jumped down from the toilet.

The instant I opened the stall door, I wished I could have taken the action back.

Because Jamie had already halted his attack—no brave interference from me was needed. He’d backed several feet away, in fact, and was crying. Ben was no longer hunched over, protecting himself from the rain of blows. He and Jamie both stared at me like I’d suddenly grown an extra head.

“Joy?” Ben’s mind ran wild with Whispers.
Okay, she better not have heard what we were talking about.

“That was
you
?” Jamie wiped tears from his cheeks. He looked disoriented.
I wish it wasn’t Joy of all people, seeing me like this.
“I just wanted to leave,” he said, as if to himself. Then he ran out the door.

I stared at Ben, more confused than ever. If the two of them could Hear, why were they so shocked to see me? And if they
couldn’t
Hear, what was going on?

“So, Joy, heh, whatcha doing in the men’s?” Ben cleared his throat, attempted to put on his confident game face, but he was bleeding and his jaw was swelling up, so the effect was just kind of goofy.

“I…” What could I say? “I had to throw up, so I ran into the first bathroom I saw.”

I’ll say one thing: Ben’s look of warm concern was a
lot more convincing than, say, Bree’s. He really had the charm thing down. “Well, I sure hope you’re feeling better,” he said, hoping no such thing. “And I’m very sorry you had to be a witness to the Ugly Effects of Drugs on Today’s Youth.” He said the last few words in an ironic TV announcer voice.

“Drugs?” So that was going to be his excuse. “You mean, Jamie was high?”

“Ohhh, yeah. Boy was flyin’.”
Hope she buys this.
Ben turned on the hot water, soaked a paper towel, and squeezed it before applying it to his face gently. “He’s been experimenting with heavier shit lately,” he told me. “It’s making him act crazier than usual. But he’s come down from it now, thank god.”

“Thank god,” I echoed, disappointed. What really happened? I wanted to know the truth, craved it so bad it felt like hunger. But I couldn’t blame Ben for covering up. Whatever his secret was, it was a family secret.

I stood dumbly, watching him soap and rinse the front of his T-shirt. The iron smell of blood mixed with coconut-scented liquid almost made me gag again, but I had to stay. To let these awful smells and images seep into my memories of last night’s kiss, record over them. This broken version of Ben was the real one. I wanted to memorize his face. To never be fooled by it again.

“Meh.” Ben scowled at his beat-up reflection, and I thought I might have seen a crack somewhere in his thirty-foot stone wall. In that moment I could have asked him,
maybe, almost. About his family. About his gift, whatever it was, and how he’d learned to manage it. I could even have asked him if he ever really liked me, if we connected at all back there in Icka’s room. But then Ben rinsed his mouth and spat, did his stupid teeth-checking grin in the mirror, zipped up his brown bomber jacket all the way to his neck. “Hey, I appreciate you not saying anything, ’kay, Joy?” A nod, a cocky grin.
I hope she calls me when she’s feeling better.
Unbelievable. He just assumed that I’d swallowed his lame story about the drugs, that I was too sick or too stupid to have caught what had really happened. That I would fall right into line and into his arms again, no questions asked.

“Don’t worry,” I said, then paused. Was I really going to say this? “I won’t tell on you to Frosh Number One.” I saw him flinch before I turned and walked out.