Chapter 16


SOMETHING WEIRD WAS GOING on with Amanda, Jenna thought as she half listened to Sarah's report. She could tell, just from the snotty girl's expression. She could explore her mind and find out what was happening.

But she had too many other things to think about. She was excited and she was scared.

Her father had called the principal to get her excused. He was picking her up right after this class, in less than 30 minutes. They'd be going directly to the airport, where he'd return the little rental car and they'd board a flight to Las Vegas. That was the exciting part.

She hadn't told Tracey, and she hadn't left a note for the Devons. But that wasn't the scary part. She wasn't sure what the scary part was. Flying for the first time? She didn't think that was it.

Sarah had finished her report, and Madame called on Ken. Ken was reluctant.

"Could I put this off till tomorrow?" he asked. "I'm kind of not in the mood."

That wasn't the sort of excuse that Madame usually accepted, but for some strange reason, she smiled at Ken and nodded. "Yes, that's all right. Let's see . . . has everyone given their reports?"

Emily's hand shot up. Madame looked puzzled.

"You gave your report last week, Emily."

"I just have a question to ask Ken, Madame. I was wondering if maybe he's had a chance to think about what I asked him. If he could contact my father."

Madame frowned. "Emily--"

But before she could go on, Amanda spoke.

"Knock it off, Emily! Leave him alone!"

Jenna was stunned, and she assumed that everyone else in the room was having the same reaction. This wasn't like Amanda. She was way too emotional.

And she didn't stop. "You don't know what it's like for Ken--to get involved with people like this, people he can't see or do anything for. It's hard enough for him to cope with the ones who contact him--he shouldn't have to go out and seek them. He suffers. Don't you understand that?"

Was there another body snatcher around? Jenna wondered. Had someone taken over Amanda? She'd never heard Amanda speak with such passion before, not even about herself.

Ken was looking at Amanda, but he didn't seem quite as shocked as everyone else. And strangely enough, Madame was almost smiling.

Suddenly, Ken clutched his head. Madame looked at him in alarm. "Are you all right, Ken?" she asked for the second time that day.

"I'm getting a message," Ken blurted out.

"From my father?" Emily asked excitedly.

"No." He turned to Jenna. "From yours."

Jenna stared at him. "My father isn't dead."

Ken held up one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other. "Wait . . . yes. Okay. I will."

No one had ever actually seen or heard Ken talk to dead people before. The room was hushed and expectant.

His face cleared, and he spoke to Jenna. "He died eight years ago, Jenna. From a gunshot wound, in a fight. He wants me to give you a message."

"This is crazy," Jenna declared hotly. "I don't know who's talking to you, Ken, but it's not my father. Stuart Kelley is alive and well, and he's picking me up in less than thirty minutes."

"He's an impostor," Ken told her. "Your father says that guy found out about you, but he doesn't know how. He's a professional gambler. He wants to use you for your mind-reading gift so he can win at poker."

"That's not true! He saw my mother at the hospital. She'd know if he was an impostor."

"Are you sure he saw your mother, Jenna?" Madame asked quietly.

Amanda reached inside her handbag. "Here, use my cell phone. Call the hospital and find out if she's had any visitors."

"No!" Jenna cried out.

Ken was rubbing his head again. "He's a scam artist, Jenna. He's got a friend working with him. Someone named Arnie. Have you ever heard of him?"

Arnie. The guy in the restaurant who knew him from way back when. The poker game in the back room. Jenna's stomach turned over.

"This isn't true!" she screamed. But it came out as a whisper.

"Your father, your real father--he wants to save you from him, Jenna," Ken told her. "He's trying to protect you. He's had a hard time reaching me, but he wouldn't give up."

Jenna burst into tears.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this. Jenna Kelley didn't cry. That's what she'd told Emily when Emily had made that prediction about the tall, dark, handsome stranger. Who gave off bad vibes. Who would make her cry.

Tracey came over and hugged her. Jenna didn't pull away. She was aware of other people leaving their seats, coming over to her, surrounding her. Even Charles wheeled himself over. Madame came, too. Only Carter Street remained in his seat, oblivious to what was going on as usual.

Everyone else made a wall of support around her, keeping her safe, keeping her strong. Still, she couldn't stop crying.

She buried her face in her hands. "It's okay," came a soft voice. "Let it out." It sounded like Amanda, but of course that was impossible.

Slowly, the tears began to subside, and she could hear Madame's voice over them. "This is why we have to watch out for one another. People will try to use us. And who knows what this man really wants? He could be part of something bigger, some conspiracy. We are always in danger from the outside world, class. What's happened to Jenna--it's a lesson for all of us. We're in this together."

"Why couldn't I read his mind?" Jenna asked in a whisper.

"Who knows?" Madame said simply. "He might have gifts of his own."

"And how could he have known that my mother wouldn't be home when he came to my apartment?"

Madame gently touched her head. "As I said, Jenna, other people could be involved."

Charles spoke. "What a jerk! Hey, Jenna, do you want me to drop a house on him?"

"I'm getting the feeling," Martin said excitedly. "I could go beat him up."

Jenna took her hands away from her wet face.

Tracey silently passed her a tissue.

"It's okay," she said, her voice trembling. "I can handle this myself."

"No, Jenna," Madame said. "We need one another."

The bell rang. Jenna looked at Madame. "He's picking me up in front of the school."

Madame nodded. She made a gesture, and everyone moved away, giving her room to stand up. Carter Street walked out of the room. Everyone else waited around Jenna. When she started to move toward the door, they encircled her, walking with her. Charles rolled along by her side.

Outside, the little yellow compact was waiting by the curb. The circle parted, letting Jenna see the car clearly. And the driver.

The handsome man was smiling. There was no question about it--he had a charming smile. It felt like a knife stabbing her in the heart.

Their eyes met. She still couldn't read his mind, but maybe he read hers. Or maybe it was just written all over her face.

His smile faded. She could see his hand go to the gearshift. Then, suddenly, he sped away.

Dimly, Jenna heard Madame suggesting to Tracey that she take her home. Emily was saying she'd wait with Jenna while Tracey collected their things. She was aware of a hug, a pat on the shoulder, a hand briefly clutching hers. She wasn't sure who was hugging, who was patting . . . but they were friends, she thought. Maybe.

The only thing she was really sure of was the fake tattoo on her arm. Dad. It was already starting to fade. She'd just have to wear long sleeves until it was gone completely.

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