Chapter Five

WHAT I FIND FASCINATING about secrets is how people use that newfound information—information they previously would never have known or would have found out too late to do anything about. It’s almost poisonous, but for me, it’s business. A business that creates a sort of traffic of information that puts cash into my pocket, and that’s what I’m out to get. Call me selfish or call me coldhearted, but I’ve promised to only provide the facts. The rest is up to them.

I strode down the opposite side of the main hallway, my mind set on delivering new secrets to my client, getting paid, and finishing this job, and although I would have liked to take my time, I was late and began to jog. I’d rather not look like I’m in a hurry. Since people know I carry information, I’m constantly being watched for whom I talk to and even whom I don’t talk to. Sometimes it drums up clients, but on the flip side, it also shoos them away.

A little out of breath, I made it to the entrance of my classroom, and my timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Walking toward me was Stephanie, chatting with another girl—maybe her new future best friend?

But then I focused on Stephanie and began to feel bad for her. She played backup to Laura in almost every category. Like when Laura was appointed captain of the cheerleader squad, Stephanie got co-captain. Stephanie received the part of understudy when Laura won the main role in last year’s spring musical, Grease. And it didn’t stop there—in a shared art class, Laura’s exhibit took first place in a school-wide vote. Guess who came in second? The worst was when school dances came up.

Every autumn, River West held the annual Fall Ball (impressive name, I know). And Laura and Stephanie were at it again. Even though they were best friends, I knew they constantly battled in secret.

This time it was over the new guy in school, Greg Wilkins. Greg had just started attending school that Monday, and the two girls had been fighting over him ever since. What is it about girls and new guys? Fresh meat? I wondered if Greg had any idea two girls were fighting over him. The real problem here was that Stephanie actually liked Greg. I’d been in her mind—I’d seen it. Greg, I assumed, just wanted to be with the most popular girl. Girls had too much drama. I wouldn’t complain, though. I didn’t care enough, and it kept a steady stream of cold, hard cash in my pocket.

Stephanie was ten feet away. I wanted to be sure about her, so I held my eyes on her until she glanced up and into mine. I jumped inside.

Having been back and forth in both of the girls’ minds the better part of that week, I felt like I was returning to some vacation spot my dad had never taken me to.

Yet this was no vacation. Stephanie Daniels’ mind was much different from Laura’s. Stephanie’s mind was a tiny, one-room gym, although her gym had only one exercise machine in it—a treadmill. Strange, I know.

I spotted canned lights above that coated everything in a yellowy hue that shone off a set of mirrors lining the wall in front of the treadmill. Stephanie’s current train of thought was a stereo in the corner of the room. Her thoughts just kept repeating, as though the song was skipping.

Please let it be somebody else. Please let it be somebody else. Please let it be somebody else.

My official synopsis of Stephanie was that she was on an unending cycle of playing catch-up. The treadmill itself ran at normal speed and beeped every so often. I had half a thought to do a few miles on it just to see what would happen, but for some eerie reason, I didn’t want to step foot on the thing.

On its rubber track, a name kept revolving around and around. Written in huge white letters and surrounded by a giant heart, as if someone had painted it there, was the name “Greg Wilkins.” Yep, same name as on the dance flyer I had found inside Laura’s dryer. Stephanie’s was in plain sight because she openly had a crush on Greg. Laura’s was more secretive; thus, I had to search for it. Just one more thing I’ve learned in the mind-reading business.

The bizarre thing was that in Laura’s mind, below Greg’s name, was the third word “lies.” This was absent from Stephanie’s. People’s minds were puzzle boxes. Yes, I could read them, and most of the time information was easy to get, but sometimes I came across little trip-ups like this.

All Stephanie wanted to know was who Laura was going to the Fall Ball with. I had my answer and then some. Why would the additional word “lies” be in Laura’s mind? Did she know something Stephanie didn’t? Was she protecting her friend from a betrayal Greg would later inflict on her? I’d been messing around too much inside Laura’s mind to even bother looking for more clues. Then again, I wasn’t getting paid to decipher Laura’s thoughts, just to find out whom she was taking to the dance.

Just the facts.

In Stephanie’s mirrors, I was again faced by my tired reflection. It complemented the appearance of the jeans I’d been wearing—rough and faded. I rubbed my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept for a period longer than a couple of hours.

Suddenly, one of the can lights above me flickered. I turned to look at it as it abruptly popped and fizzled out. That was strange. The treadmill began to rev up, moving faster now. I bit my lower lip, quickly searching for more clues. I guess it didn’t matter. I had the information Stephanie wanted and my job was done. It was getting weird in there, and I wanted out.

Slipping back into my own head, I saw that Stephanie was now just eight feet away from me. She was a cute girl, with an oval-shaped face, brown hair, matching deep-brown eyes, and cheeks that puffed into an equally cute smile, but she was no Laura Hartman. (Ah, I’m just kidding.)

“So?” she said, shooting the friend she had been walking with a sideways glance. I did the same out of pure awkwardness. The girl suddenly made a shocked expression as if she had just accidentally interrupted Stephanie and me in a deep conversation. The girl turned, creeping into the classroom next to us.

“What did you find out—who is she going with?”

Okay, when it comes down to it, crawling around inside people’s minds, discovering secrets, can get to be sort of…Oh, what’s the word … troublesome? Just as this job had become. I was really ready to be done with it, get myself out of these two girls’ minds and move on. I had bigger problems to deal with.

I held out my hand, saying, “We agreed on fifteen.”

She rolled her eyes and let her shoulders sag. Hefting her books into one arm, she reached around to her back pocket.

“Here.”

Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Lincoln were securely placed into my open hand. Once I felt the money touch my fingers, I said, “Greg Wilkins.”

That’s when I saw Kate Huddy pass behind Stephanie and drift effortlessly into our classroom. I took that as my lead-in and followed her, not wanting to see the expression on Stephanie’s face when the treadmill in her mind came to an utter and complete stop.