FLASHES - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Trinity’s swarm breaks into whispers when they catch sight of me in first period, right before she gives them a look like Medusa turning people to stone. Silence. Except maybe a tiny giggle from me, and one from Abbey who’s setting up her easel to my right.

“Oh. Hi Laney,” Trinity says loud enough for everyone in the class to hear. “I was wondering if you could tell me who’s going to ask me to the Halloween dance?”

“How should I know?”

“I thought you were psychic.” She drums her fingers along a nearby desk like she’s bored with waiting for my answer. “Well?”

“Probably half the boys in sixth grade will ask you and some seventh and eighth graders too.” I mutter and pick through my paints. She knows I can’t force myself to have a flash about something like that. Why even ask?

“Of course,” she says, and obviously she‘s not getting that I want this conversation to end because she actually steps between be and my canvas. “But I meant which boy will I go with. I really need to know, so I can match my dress to his eyes.”

“It’s a costume dance,” I say, and I roll my eyes at her. “If his eyes are brown, are you planning on coming as a mud monster?” That gets some laughs from Abbey and a few of the other students nearby.

I lean down to pick through my brushes. After a week of listening to the art teacher talk we are finally going to get to actually paint in first period. I thought Trinity and the swarm would move on when I turned away to look at my brushes. I was wrong.

“Just tell me. Okay?” Trinity crosses her arms.

“No.”

“Because you can’t. Because you’re not a psychic at all. You’re just a crazy liar.”

“No.” Somehow I managed to turn that ‘no’ into a two syllable word.

“Then tell me who I’m going with.”

“I can’t.”

“Like I told you girls,” Trinity says to the clones. “She’s not psychic. She’s just a freak.” The swarm laughs in unison

“Close your mouth.” Abbey whispers to me a couple seconds later. I do. I hadn’t realized it had been gaping open the whole time since Trinity had walked away.

“But, I am psychic.” I whisper.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abbey whispers back. “Just paint. Don’t give Trinity the satisfaction of thinking she got to you.”

Abbey’s right. I take a deep breath and stare hard at my canvas. I hope I looks like I’m trying to envision what I am going to paint. I squeeze my eyes shut and think hard about the Halloween dance. Nothing.

Not that I honestly expected to see anything, but I’d love to be able to prove Trinity wrong.