Mindspeak
Heather Sunseri
Copyright 2013 by Heather Sunseri
For my mom.
For always believing in me.
For encouraging me to explore the mysteries of life
through books
and by simply living.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Chapter One
I couldn’t believe Coach had called a six a.m. practice. It was the first day of classes for crying out loud. Not to mention the start of my last year at Wellington.
And the last year of drowning in secrets—mine and everyone else’s.
I pushed through the locker room door to the swimming pool that Friday. Cool water splattered against my ankles. After breathing in steam and chlorine, I stopped short.
Briana had an arm draped over Coach Williams’ shoulder, studying the clipboard in his lap. With a flip of her curly red hair, she threw her head back and belted out a laugh that tangled the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.
My head throbbed too much for a run-in with my arch nemesis. I walked toward the pool and dunked my swim cap in the water.
When I turned back around, Briana was in my face. Well, her breasts were. She was a solid five-foot-ten, while I was more the size of a tall Olympic gymnast. I leaned away. “What do you want, Bree?”
“It’s a shame you missed practice yesterday. I shaved more than a second off my fifty-free. If I’m not mistaken, that’s good enough to beat you on your best day.”
I smiled my best it-would-be-a-shame-if-you-sucked-in-too-much-water-during-practice smile. “Congratulations. I’m super sorry I missed that.” To think Briana Howard and I were once friends was mind-boggling.
“Lexi, Briana. In the water. Now,” Coach Williams yelled from his office.
“Okay, Coach,” I said without removing my eyes from Briana. “You first, Bree.” I gestured with my palm facing up toward the pool. I wasn’t about to turn my back on the girl who’d practically jerked the ponytail out of my head over some boy last year.
“Gladly.” She strutted over to the edge of the pool and completed a perfect swan dive into the middle lane.
I rolled my eyes and joined some sophomores three lanes over. Not nearly far enough away.
I stretched my swim cap over my head and tucked loose strands inside the folds. With my arms spread wide, I fell backwards. The water, cool and refreshing, enveloped me. The whooshing sound shut off all noise—the sounds outside my head anyway. I pushed off the wall and glided arms first.
My workout was the one hour of the day when I could think uninterrupted. For the next sixty or so minutes I would forget evil teen frenemies and dream of the day I would break free of high school. More importantly, the day I would walk away from Wellington Boarding School forever and into college bliss.
As I crawled through the water, I relished the thought of freedom—or the anonymity—that college would bring.
Escaping to a large university meant fleeing from the secrets that haunted me at Wellington. Secrets that, though different for each student, plagued many of the teens who attended the little-known boarding school. Secrets that begged extra security and a gated entrance. Secrets that made me realize that I never really knew the people I called my friends at this school. Secrets that had required me to change my name when I was twelve years old.
I hadn’t been in the pool very long when a hand pushed softly on my head during a water break. I perched my goggles on top of my cap and looked up at Coach Williams. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Dean Fisher needs you.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Some new kid is starting today. He wants you to play tour guide.”
Straining my neck, I peered around Coach. Dean Fisher waved me out of the pool. A boy stood beside him, his back to me. Sandy hair in need of a trim flipped haphazardly above the neck of a black tee.
“Just great,” I said under my breath. “Can’t you get me out of it? I really need the practice.” I couldn’t let Bree get further ahead of me. Not to mention that showing some new boy around just wasn’t my thing for too many reasons to name.
“Sorry, kid. You’ll have to make up the practice later.”
Coach Williams offered me a hand and lifted me from the pool with little effort. I tipped back a bottle of water as I padded over to the dean. His three-piece suit and salt-and-pepper hair screamed distinguished.
“Lexi, your stroke’s looking strong. You ready for this week’s meet?” Expectations were hidden behind the dean’s smile.
“I’m trying to be, sir.” It would help if I could get my practice in uninterrupted.
His expression faltered briefly before he turned slightly and reached a hand to his guest’s elbow. “I want you to meet Jack. He’s joining us for his senior year. Jack, this is our star swimmer, Lexi Matthews.”
I turned to the new guy, cringing a little at the title the dean gave me. I was far from a star. Besides, I resented the pressure.
Water dripped off the end of my nose as I once-overed Jack. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black concert T-shirt that did nothing to hide the well-defined muscles underneath.
I offered my hand and my best attempt at a smile. It wasn’t his fault my practice had been cut short. “Nice to meet you.”
His palm wrapped around my outstretched hand. My eyes drifted up to his, the color of the sky at twilight, in time to see him scan the length of my body. A shadow of darkness grazed over each inch, all the way to my toes. Though my swimsuit covered all the important parts, I was suddenly self-conscious with nowhere to hide as he studied me.
I pulled my hand from his grasp and slid the swim cap off my head, running my fingers through my long hair. I crossed my arms and forced my gaze toward the dean.
“Dean, I would love nothing more than to show Jack around, but I’m afraid I really need the practice today.”
“I’ve already spoken to Mr. Sayre. He said you could have seventh period today to make up the practice. Besides,” Dean’s grin returned, “Jack is attending Wellington this fall while getting to know those of you hoping to join The Program.”
A gasp escaped my mouth. “Sir?”
“Jack has already been a part of The Program for a year. I’m sure he can answer any questions you and the others might have.”
Jack was part of The Program as a junior? That made less than zero sense. “I thought The Program was only for Wellington seniors, sir.”
“Jack is part of the initial pilot program along with a few others.”
“A few others?”
“Your questions will be answered soon enough, Lexi,” Dean Fisher said. Discussion over.
I didn’t understand the big secret. But that’s Wellington. One big secret after another.
It didn’t matter. I didn’t care about The Prog
ram anyway. I already knew the lengths medical researchers went to in order to save one life to the detriment of another thanks to my infamous father. The Program was just another way for Wellington to take parents’ money and teach children the controversial lengths doctors go to in order to cure terminal diseases and life-threatening injuries.
The dean and Wellington teachers assured students that acceptance to The Program practically guaranteed seniors acceptance to the pre-med program of their choice. I’d guarantee my acceptance to a top pre-med program another way.
“Why don’t you grab a shower? Jack will meet you outside the girls’ locker room.” The dean started to walk away but turned back. “Oh, and you’ll need to get to know Jack and introduce him at Thursday night’s dinner.”
A smiled played at the corners of Jack’s lips. And the way his eyes bore into mine… The look was strange. Unnerving even.
The two men headed for the pool exit. A chill galloped down my spine. Get to know him? “Yes, sir,” I said with a casual salute once the dean was out of earshot. I took a deep breath and squeezed the bridge of my nose, hoping to massage away the growing headache.
Dripping and breathing hard, Briana stepped beside me. “Who’s the yummy new guy?” Her goggles dangled at her hip. “Please tell me they’re not letting you introduce him to our school. You’ll run him off just like the last person they allowed you to mentor.”
Would I tell Briana that Jack was more than just a new student? Briana would be more than interested in the “yummy new guy” if she knew he was part of The Program. “You mean Anna? The eighth-grader who developed viral pneumonia and had to be hospitalized for six weeks?”
Briana shrugged. “I’m sure you were partly to blame for Anna never returning. You’re toxic, Lexi. You’ll scare this guy off, too.”
She was probably right. I would scare this guy off. Most likely by choice.
~~~~
Jack sat on a bench between the sports center and the boy’s dormitory. He straightened his legs out in front of him, his Chuck Taylored feet crossed at the ankles, and his arms stretched across the back of the bench. The sun glinted off his hair, the color of wheat just before harvest, and glimmered peacefully over his face.
I looked out across the school’s front lawn. A perfect mid-September day in Midland, Kentucky. The leaves on the trees had begun to change a little—a mix of red and gold among mostly green. A good day to walk around campus and introduce fresh eyes to Wellington, I supposed.
I moved into the sun’s line, shadowing Jack’s face. “You were supposed to wait for me outside the locker room.” I regretted my tone immediately.
He opened one eye, but otherwise remained where he was. “Did you have trouble finding me beyond the one door that separated us?”
Sarcasm. I guessed I deserved that. “So, I’m supposed to give you a tour. We should get started.”
“Actually…” He bent over and reached for something at his feet. When he rose, he held two mugs from the school’s coffee shop. “The nice man at Common Grounds said you appreciated a good Chai, and the dean said you would have questions for me. You know, for my big introduction into the school.”
I raised an eyebrow, studying his expression. There was a smugness about him. Reaching for the drink he offered, I wrapped my fingers around the warm cup and lifted the opening to my nose. The sweet scent of Chai perked up my mood just a little. “Thanks. I guess I could sit for a moment.”
Dropping my bag at my feet, I sat and balanced a notebook and pen on my lap while I reached into my satchel for my prescription pills. Realizing Jack was staring at me, I shrugged. “Headaches,” I answered his silent question, although I wasn’t sure why I owed him an explanation.
The smirk that had spread across Jack’s face faded. He nodded. “We can do this later.”
“No, it’s fine.” Since “never” was not an option. I lifted my pen, poised to take notes. “So, doctor, I guess?”
Jack choked on his drink. “Excuse me?”
“You’re planning to be a doctor, right? Most students are on a professional track of some sort at this school. Mostly by their parents’ choice. Since you’re already part of The Program, I assume you’re on track to become a doctor.”
He narrowed his gaze. “I guess. Yeah.”
Figures. “Music or visual arts?” Everyone at this school was required to be well-rounded. Academically, athletically, artistically. I enjoyed the visual arts, myself.
“Music?” A grin reached all the way to his eyes this time, and my belly did a little somersault.
I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, as I struggled with what questions I could possibly ask. This was an impossible task. I was forbidden by Wellington’s honor code to pose the questions I wanted. Wellington had a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy in order to keep the students of this fine institution safe from outside harm. Nevertheless, I always found myself wanting to know a person’s story. Their real story—why they needed Wellington’s security, what their greatest fears were, their greatest secrets, what they really wanted to be when they grew up and if it matched what their parents wanted for them. “What instrument?”
“Um… Any of them?”
I set my pen down. Jack stared straight ahead, distant, like his mind had wandered. “Any of them?”
After a couple of beats, his eyes found mine again. “Yeah. Guitar, piano, fiddle, harmonica, and some others.”
“Harmonica?” I couldn’t suppress a smile of my own.
“You’re avoiding the questions you really want to ask.” He angled his body toward me, his knee brushed against mine. “Do the students here really not know anything about each other?”
I shrugged. “Some stories surface.” Many do, actually. “Some are hard to keep hidden when parents make the news. The son of a famous actor gets photographed while home on Christmas break. A senator is exposed due to some scandal. Rumors fly on a regular basis.”
That was putting it nicely. Wellington students snooped constantly. I thought about the day Briana and Kyle saw me eating breakfast with my father at a restaurant in Lexington. One of them recognized him from a recent news article and knew he was in town for some symposium. One meeting with the dean later, Briana and Kyle were sworn to secrecy.
Mostly secrets were kept due to the obscene amount of wealth in a family. Except in my case. My identity was kept secret because of the highly confidential medical research my dad was involved in.
Darkness swarmed in Jack’s eyes. “Do you trust your classmates?”
I squirmed uncomfortably. Goosebumps danced down my arms, and I reached to rub them. “I guess.” However, this guy was starting to give me the creeps.
“Aren’t you curious to know who the people around you are?”
Yeah, like right now. Why was he asking these questions? I was sure the dean had told him the rules.
“Or worse, are you ever scared the wrong classmate will find out who you really are, who your father is, and what he does for a living? Put your life in danger?”
I jumped to my feet. Blood rushed to my head, throwing me off balance. A throbbing pain pulsated behind my eyeball. “Maybe we can do this later?” I rubbed my temple. “After I get rid of this headache.” I tried to cover my sudden unease.
Jack stood, his brows squeezed together. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Like I said, just a headache.” And you’re freaking me out.
He studied me a moment before he reached his fingers to my temple and brushed them from one side of my head to the other. The gentleness of his touch temporarily distracted me from the creepiness of the moment. The muscles in my legs tightened. I couldn’t move.
A cooling sensation spread from the top of my head, across my temple and behind my eyes. Then the pain subsided.
He slowly retracted his hand, dropping it to his side. His eyes never left mine.
Then I asked the forbidden questions. “Why are you at Wellington, Jack? Who are you, really
?”
He shrugged. “I’m just Jack. And I was curious.”
“Curious? Curious people go to the zoo or the FBI museum, not a high-security boarding school for over-intelligent teenagers.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t curious about panda bears or gorillas, I was curious about you.”
Chapter Two
“You should have seen him. He was so… so…” I stopped pacing and faced Danielle Gray, whose head was upside down in the downward facing dog pose. Her blond ponytail grazed the floor. “Are you even listening to me?”
My roommate and keeper of my darkest secrets dropped to her knees and placed her hands together as if in prayer. Dressed in black yoga pants and a fitted red paisley tank, she took in a deep cleansing breath and let it out slowly. Finally, her eyes popped open revealing her light brown eyes. “Yes, of course I’m listening. He was so… what?”
I gave my head a little shake. “How can you do yoga at a time like this?” I sat on my bed and put my head between my knees. Breathed in… and out…
“Time like what? A time when one of our imaginations is doing double time. Seems to me you could use a little Anjali Mudra.” She closed her eyes again. “So? He was so… what?”
“He was so… mysterious,” I said, my voice muffled between my legs.
“He sounds hot.”
I raised my head. I remembered the coolness of his fingers and how my head stopped aching at his touch. The deep blue color of his eyes. “He was not hot, Dani,” I lied, my voice rising, because she was so missing the point. “He was weird… strange… creepy. I think he knows who I am. Worse than that, I think he knows who my father is.”
Danielle shook her head. “No way. That’s not possible.” A wrinkle formed between her eyes. For the first time, concern registered. “What are you going to do? You need to talk to the dean. Get him reassigned. Let someone else show him around.”
“On what grounds? Besides, I have to find out what he knows.” I stood and began pacing the room again. “And why he’s here. He’s already part of The Program. Which is weird.”
“You mean that new class or whatever for you geeky medical types?” I nodded.
“Are you going to tell your dad?”
“And risk being moved to a different school? Not sure yet.” I walked to my closet. “Speaking of my dad, I almost forgot. He’s in town.” I pulled several dresses out, and with the wave of a dramatic hand said, “My father, the renowned Peter Roslin, is speaking at some fancy dinner.”