Being Jamie Baker Page 8

  I woke up so sore I could hardly move and could have easily asked my parents for a “get out of jail free” pass, except that it might look suspicious if I didn’t go to school the day after half my classmates watched me get flattened, so I ignored the pain and went. Yup, sucked to be me.

  I didn’t talk to or even look at anyone that day, but I listened to everyone. They were all saying the same things. Someone would say the sign fell on me, and then someone else would dispute it, saying I was with Ryan when it happened. Then of course the first person would ask if Ryan and I were together.

  The rumors of Ryan’s and my secret love affair spread like wildfire, and by lunch it was all everyone was talking about—everyone except Ryan. He hadn’t so much as said my name all day. Not even when Amy Jones had the guts to ask him to his face if the rumors about us were true. He simply said, “Nope.”

  Then in true Ryan fashion, he smiled at her and said, “Why? You weren’t worried that I was off the market, were you?” Poor Amy blushed and Ryan laughed. “I’m afraid I’m still single. In fact, I’m dateless for Friday night. You want to go see a movie or something?”

  I had to laugh at the way Amy’s eyes lit up at the spontaneous offer. She was literally trying not to squeal as she accepted the date. The way she swooned was almost pathetic, and if I weren’t too busy being a normal, jealous, emotional teenage girl, I would have given him a little credit. The boy truly does have a gift with the ladies. Instead, I just wanted to zap them both.

  The way Ryan was acting made me so angry. Maybe I really was just a challenge for him. It made sense, I suppose, but he was acting as if yesterday never happened and we didn’t fight at all—almost like I never even existed. I kept telling myself that’s what I asked him to do and that he was just faithfully keeping a promise, but it didn’t help. That day was lousy for me, and the worst of it hadn’t happened yet.

  I was on my way to English and dreading having to spend the next hour in the same room as Ryan, but when I got to my classroom Principal Huang and two police officers were standing there with Mr. Edwards. As wonderful as this day had been so far, I was sure they were there to talk to me. I didn’t even get inside before Mr. Edwards motioned for me to join them.

  Principal Huang pointed at me. “That’s her.”

  “Jamielynn Baker?” one of the cops asked.

  “I prefer Jamie, actually.”

  “Ms. Baker, there was an accident in front of the school yesterday afternoon, and everyone involved spoke of a girl matching your physical description.”

  “That’s nice.”

  I didn’t think either of the cops appreciated my response, but I couldn’t help giving them a little attitude. Ever since my accident—with the cops and the doctors and the paparazzi all hounding me for information—I don’t really respond well to any form of interrogation.

  “We also have several eyewitnesses that identified you specifically.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to squash the lead, but it wasn’t me.”

  The older of the two cops, the one who’d asked all the questions up to this point, huffed in annoyance, and the second guy took over. “You’re not in trouble or anything, we’re just hoping for a statement to shed some light on a few unanswered questions.”

  “Yes, we need answers!” Principal Huang interrupted, already on the cops’ last nerves. “Mr. Warren clearly ran into my marquee, but the insurance is threatening not to pay because they say the damage doesn’t match the description of what happened. Can you believe that!”

  Actually, I could believe that. I’m sure the insurance company was very curious about the nice little dent I’d put in his precious sign. I didn’t exactly feel bad about damaging the stupid thing. After all, it totally attacked me.

  “And of course we want to make sure that you’re okay,” the younger cop added, still trying to butter me up.

  Unfortunately for him, I hate kiss-ups almost as much as I hate cops. I glanced from him back to the first cop, who was still frowning at me, and smirked. “Good cop, bad cop, huh? I thought that only happened in the movies.”

  I’m not always a lot of trouble, but I was really nervous, and I was afraid that if they saw that at all, they might figure out I really was involved. I figured being a rebellious teenager would keep them frustrated enough not to see how scared I was.

  It seemed to be working with Principal Huang. “This school doesn’t have thousands of dollars to replace that marquee,” he said, “so if you know something about it, you have to tell us.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Huang. Don’t know what to tell you. Maybe you should think about a wooden one next time.”

  Mr. Bad Cop was starting to lose his patience. “Ms. Baker,” he said, nearly yelling now, “if you’re not willing to cooperate, I’m afraid we’ll have to arrest you and continue this discussion at the station.”

  “Arrest me?” I repeated incredulously. Unfortunately, I said that a little loudly, and we instantly started to gather a crowd. I didn’t mean to lose my temper, but they were going on some pretty thin evidence, and trying to strong-arm a kid in front of her classmates was pretty low. “Arrest me for what?”

  “You are aware that it’s against the law to walk away from the scene of an accident, right?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that seeing an accident from across a parking lot makes me a material witness.”

  “Young lady, several of your classmates said they saw you get hit by the sign that fell.”

  “Well, that would be kind of impossible, considering I hadn’t even reached the parking lot when it happened. Ask Mr. Edwards—I was late getting out of class yesterday.”

  Both men glanced to my teacher, and he shrugged. “It’s true. She stayed almost ten minutes after the bell yesterday.”

  The cops frowned, and when the grumpy one began scribbling on his notepad, Mr. Edwards broke the silence again, addressing the group of students watching us. “And speaking of the bell, everyone get to your classes before I start handing out detention.”

  The students started to scatter, but Mr. Edwards didn’t follow his own advice. As he watched on curiously, the younger cop—Mr. Good Cop—took me by surprise when he asked me if I would take off my sunglasses. I knew exactly where he was going with this, and I wasn’t worried about that in the least, so I took off the glasses without hesitation and showed him my eyes. “Maybe she’s telling the truth, Vic,” he said to his partner. “Both eyes are the same color, and not green or yellow. They’re brown.”

  I hadn’t realized that Ryan was also still watching my interrogation until he walked up next to the cop with wide eyes. When I saw him, my heart jumped into overdrive. “Green and yellow?” Ryan said, gazing at me with wonder.

  The officer mistook the astonishment in Ryan’s voice for confusion. “All three of the landscapers present at the accident described the girl involved as having had one green eye and one yellow,” he explained. “They were quite certain.”

  Ryan looked at me again, and I could see it in his eyes. He knew. And he knew that I knew he knew. We stared each other down—or rather, he stared me down while I panicked like a deer caught in his headlights—until the cop questioned the two of us.

  Ryan was much better at shaking it off than I was. He flashed the cop that boyish smile of his and covered for me like a pro. “I was with Jamie yesterday after class. We had just walked out the front door when the accident happened. I’d be happy to give you a statement too, but I doubt it’d be much help. We couldn’t really see anything.”

  “So you were with her at the time of the accident?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Lying to the cops is a criminal act, young man,” Mr. Bad Cop interrupted. “You’re not just covering for this young lady, are you?”

  Ryan gave me another knowing glance. “No, sir. I swear she was with me the entire time.”

  The older cop looked Ryan up and down skeptically and sighed as he began scribbling again. “Your name?”

>   “That would be Ryan Miller,” Principal Huang said, stealing the words out of Ryan’s mouth.

  “And I suppose you’re her boyfriend or something?” the cop asked.

  “Um, no sir, we’re just doing a project together. She was interviewing me before football practice for her paper.”

  The grumpy cop seemed disappointed by that answer, and sadly, he wasn’t the only one. It reminded me of blowing Ryan off the day before. I felt bad that Ryan had to help me like this after I’d told him to stay out of my life, but I was grateful he did, even if I knew my problem with him was only going to be worse now.

  “Was anyone else with you?”

  “Yeah, Mike Driscoll and Justin Reader talked to us right after it happened. They can tell you it wasn’t Jamie. That’s what they’ve been telling the whole school all day. It had to be just somebody that looked like Jamie.”

  “All right,” the cop said with one last dramatic sigh, “but if these boys’ stories don’t match up, we’ll be in touch, Ms. Baker.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Once the cops walked away, taking a highly annoyed Principal Huang with them, I made a mad dash for the classroom. I was safely inside before Ryan could catch me, but I knew he wasn’t going to drop the issue this time. I doubt Ryan heard a single word that anyone said in class that day either, because he stared at me from the time we took our seats to the time the bell rang.

  I was out the door as quickly as possible, but Ryan actually followed me all the way home. By the time we got out of our cars, I’d convinced myself that I was mad at him. “Don’t you have a practice to be at?”

  “Yup,” Ryan replied with every bit the amount of anger I had just shown. “Coach is gonna ride me pretty hard for missing it too, but I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on!”

  I didn’t think playing dumb would work, but I had to give it a try. “What? I lost one of my blue contacts and haven’t had a chance to get more, so I wore my brown ones. Why do you think I’ve been wearing your sunglasses all day?” I handed Ryan the glasses. “Here, you can have them back now, thanks.”

  Ryan took his glasses and I started to walk away again, but he pulled me back. “You were in that accident!”

  “Don’t be stupid, that’s impossible.”

  “And yet half the school saw you, and the cops are looking for a girl with one green eye and one yellow eye.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I stood there, slowly letting my emotions spin out of control, and Ryan finally cracked. “You have to explain it to me, Jamie. I’m going out of my mind right now! I just lied to the cops for you, and I don’t even understand what I lied about. You owe me!”

  He looked absolutely desperate, and he basically knew something weird was up anyway. We were past the point of pretending, so I figured at this point it was probably better just to tell him everything rather than let him try to figure it out on his own. I glanced back at my house and listened for my mother. When I heard her inside, doing what sounded like aerobics, I figured she hadn’t heard us, and I looked back at Ryan.

  “Please?” he begged.

  “Fine,” I said as I pushed him back toward his car, “but not here.”

  And once again I gave in to Ryan Miller.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 8

  I used to wish on stars that one day I’d be able to escape the tiny hick town I grew up in. But I guess I wasn’t specific enough, because Sacramento suburbia? Big step down. Driving through its dull brown neighborhoods is a lot like passing through all those cornfields I used to hate so much in Illinois, only not so glamorous.

  Yup, there’s nothing like an endless row of tract homes rolling past your window to make a long stretch of awkward silence seem even longer. When we finally reached the end of my neighborhood Ryan broke the quiet with a measly “Where to?”

  The sound of his voice startled me so badly that I accidentally let out a burst of energy that not only blitzed the radio and the lights on his dashboard, but actually revved the engine of the truck. Ryan tapped the gauges on the dash with a frown and started to say something, but I screamed before he could get any words out.

  “Stop the car!”

  Ryan looked at me, a little stunned, but pulled the truck to a stop. I immediately jumped out before I fried the car and him along with it. As I started walking away I felt electricity pulsing through my body, and I was too upset to stop it.

  “Stop!” I screamed when Ryan came running after me. “Don’t touch me!”

  He stopped only for a second because I’d startled him, but then he slowly reached out for me.

  “I mean it, Ryan! Don’t come any closer!” I backed away from him again. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Ryan didn’t just look confused; he looked scared. Sadly, he was right to be afraid. I was dangerous. “What do you mean, ‘hurt’ me?”

  “I can’t control it!”

  “Control what?”

  The more upset Ryan got, the more frantic I became. I clenched my hands into tight fists when I felt them start to heat up, and suddenly the streetlight I was standing under lit up and exploded.

  After Ryan ducked the shower of glass, I watched him make the connection between his truck, the broken lamp, and me. The way his mouth dropped open made me feel sick. It was probably one of the most awful moments of my life, and I wanted to run. After all, what did it matter at this point if I just disappeared? Ryan clearly knew I was different.

  But for some reason, I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even breathe. In fact, Ryan was the first to come to his senses. He held his hands out and slowly stepped back. “Okay, I’m backing up now.” His voice was low and forceful but very soothing, and the distance he put between us helped a great deal. “Take a deep breath,” he instructed, “and let’s try to stay calm.”

  Ryan inhaled deeply as if he was coaching himself to breathe and not actually talking to me at all, but I obeyed his orders anyway. I could feel my muscles start to relax when I focused on the sound of his breathing.

  As I calmed down, the low hum of the streetlamp faded, and eventually I was able to take that deep breath I desperately needed. It felt good to breathe. It was also easier to settle down now that I could see that Ryan wasn’t panicking or anything. I closed my eyes and took several more deep breaths.

  “Are you ready to talk to me?” Ryan asked when he was sure that speaking wouldn’t set me off again.

  I was as ready as I would ever be, so I shrugged my defeat. I headed back to his truck in a bit of a daze, but when I started to climb back into the passenger seat I realized that Ryan was still standing a good ten feet away. He swallowed uneasily, like he didn’t want to have to ask me his next question but had no choice.

  “Is it safe?”

  I was too out of it at the time to get upset about the fact that he was scared of me, so I simply nodded. He got in the truck very slowly, and I noticed him hesitate before he started the car.

  I’m not sure why I felt the need to apologize, but I whispered a weak “I’m sorry,” to which he didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced up at the fried lamppost once more, and then drove us back to his house without saying another word.

  “It’s just us,” he eventually promised when I hesitated to follow him inside.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off me as I walked in, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. I looked everywhere but his face because I didn’t want to see the expression on it. I didn’t want to see him watching me like he was afraid of me, or like he thought I was some kind of freak that belonged in a cage. A lot of people look at me that way, but I’d gotten used to Ryan looking at me like I’m a person. He usually watches me as if I’m someone he likes, or someone he really cares about. To see all of that taken away because he’d learned the truth would hurt too much.

  I stood in the entryway, looking around, surprised by the earthy decor of the house. Even though the place had such a peaceful feeling to it, I som
ehow felt like I was marching to my death when I heard the door shut behind me. The rope was around my neck, and the crowd was just waiting for the floor to drop from beneath my feet. I realize that’s kind of a morbid analogy, but having to tell Ryan the truth about me really felt like the end of life as I knew it.

  I watched the scene play out in my mind, until I finally had the guts to look at Ryan. Instead of asking me if I had any last words, he quietly asked, “Does stuff like that happen to you all the time?”

  Yeah, the situation sucked for me, but Ryan’s voice sounded so weak that I realized I was not the only one struggling at the moment. Ryan was freaked out. He was trying his very best to hide it from me, but that classic, cocky Ryan smile was nowhere to be found.

  I thought that seeing him afraid would hurt somehow, but it actually made him seem vulnerable, like me. It felt good to not be the only weak one, and I was able to answer his question without getting distraught again. “Only when I get upset.”

  “So what happened to my truck? And the other night at your house, when the lights went out?” Ryan swallowed hard, like he didn’t want to believe what he was thinking, but somehow knew it was true. “That was you?”

  I shrugged. “People are right to call me a freak.”

  Ryan flinched when I used the word “freak,” giving me a tiny glimmer of hope that he didn’t agree. But he didn’t turn into my mother and tell me I’m not one, he just stared at me for a second and then asked, “You’re not gonna, like, blow up my house, are you?” He was honestly a little concerned, and I couldn’t blame him for worrying.

  “The whole house?” I shook my head and failed at an attempt to smile. “No. But I can’t promise I won’t fry the circuit breaker if I get too upset.”

  “So it only happens when you’re angry?”

  “Angry, nervous, scared, excited… It’s there all the time. It’s just harder to control when I get emotional.”