Flicker Read Free Page B

you any better than I did
two months ago." He gives the locker a final shove before turning
on his heel and stalking away.
    I don't feel the same anguish as before, but
this still sucks. I close my locker and walk slowly to class.
     
    *****
     
    This time I grab a hat from my locker and
shove on my sunglasses before venturing home. I've learned that no
matter how many things I'm able to change, the weather isn't one of
them. If it's sunny today, it's sunny today.
    Feeling the warmth wash over me, I grip the
steering wheel and take slow, deep breaths. After a few hard
blinks, my eyes finally focus. That's something else I've figured
out. I can't be jumping back every time I'm in a car or train, as I
realized too late on my freshman field trip, so I'm teaching my
body to fight what comes naturally.
    Up ahead is a section of road I call the
Strand. There's nothing special about this particular chunk of
black top, at least not to anyone else. For me it's where I come
when I want to flicker. The precision of the farmer who planted
these trees dozens of year ago, combined with the angle of the
mid-afternoon sun, makes it my go-to place when I need to go
back.
    I usually take different routes home on the
days I want to… well, continue with my day, but Robbie has me
distracted.
    His words hit me harder than I thought they
would. Maybe because I expected him to change what he said. But
flickering doesn't change who I am, or why I can't let anyone get
too close.
    It's not fair to him, or anyone else that
really tries to get to know me, but I can't risk anyone knowing the
truth. If I let them get too close I might slip up, and who knows
what might happen to me. I've seen what they do to my dad—the
needles, the brain scans, more drugs than anyone should have to
take without getting some kind of pleasure out of it—and he has a
legitimate disease. I don't need some doctor poking around inside
my skull to tell me something I already know.
    I'm a freak.
     
     

Chapter 5
     
     
     
    I breathe a sigh of relief when I pull into
the driveway. So many people take it for granted that when you get
in your car and drive someplace you'll actually get there. I'm
especially happy to be home. It's not much, but it's a haven for
me, even though my parents don't know about my condition. Since
they don't have any other kids to compare me to they probably
assume my quirks are just normal teenage stuff.
    Dad's on the couch reading with the TV on
low. Neither one of us can stand complete silence. My solution is
my iPod, but I haven't been able to convince him to get one for
himself. He says he's happy with the boob tube.
    Dropping my bag against the coffee table, I
sink into the spot next to him.
    His eyebrow lifts, his clear eyes studying
me. "Rough day?"
    "You could say that." I feel like I haven't
slept in two days. Because I haven't.
    "Anything you need to talk about?"
    Let's see. I dumped my boyfriend—twice—and
the guys at school apparently have some sort of warning system
about me. "Not really. A cop came to school to talk to us about
safety. Because of that kidnapping." My fingers drift to my temple
before I catch myself.
    His frown deepens. "Another one?"
    "Not yet. But soon."
    "Mom refilled your prescription last week.
There should be a new bottle in your bathroom."
    My parents know I get migraines, they just
don't know why. No one does. So far I've been able to skate through
doctors' appointments without any kind of brain scans. God knows
what the hell they'd find inside my head.
    Dad pats my leg and smiles. "Go take
something and lie down for a little while. I'll wake you up for
dinner."
    I nod at the kitchen and the ceramic bowl I
know is on the table. "Did you take yours?"
    His smile tightens. "Of course."
     
    *****
     
    Music plays just loud enough to drown out
the silence. Any louder and Dad will pester me about needing to
rest. I grab my cell phone from the front pocket of my bag and
press Amelia's name.
    "Dude, what's up? I saw