Page 56 of Electricity

I wasn’t hungry at lunch, but that didn’t stop me from chewing on my fingernails.

I was sitting on Lacey and I’s bench in the cafeteria courtyard and all around me my classmates had their phones out and I knew I couldn’t listen in anymore.

Had it just been a matter of time, predestined from the moment the lightning hit me?

Or did each time I use my powers eat them up?

If it was the latter, I regretted a lot of my prior snooping.

I spit out a nail and switched hands. Was there a way I could recharge them?

Would licking a battery help? Running out in the rain?

“Hey,” Lacey announced herself, sitting beside me.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Look at my back for me.” I turned away from her and hitched the bottom of my shirt up.

“Uh—okay. What am I looking for?” If she already couldn’t see it?—

“Are there any lines there? Red ones? Maybe pink now, I don’t know.”

I felt her hand run across my skin, looking for what I was asking before answering, “Maybe a little. Are you okay?” She leaned over so that I had no choice but to see her, and I inhaled to lie to her, then realized not-lying was the whole point of having friends.

“I don’t know if it worked. He’s taking his test now.”

“Is he passing?”

“Not if he’s using the answers I sent him.

” If he’d gotten them. And if he didn’t realize halfway through that the answers he’d gotten were bogus.

But I had confidence in his over-confidence—his scheme had been successful for an entire year, indeed years perhaps, so why would he get paranoid now?

Paranoia was for people like me, whose lives had trained them to have one eye on the exit and a disarming quip just in case.

Lacey caught my wrist and gently pulled it down. “Maybe you don’t need them anymore—maybe they served their purpose.”

“Maybe.” I had Mason dead to rights for cheating—how could he not turn on Danny, with his scholarships at stake? “I mean—yeah. He’s taking his test now. It either worked, or it didn’t, you know? Everything else, from here on out, I can’t control. No matter how much I might like to.”

Lacey nodded. “Totally.”

“I’ll be back to just being me.” I said, looking at the horror of my ragged cuticles. Never had I felt so mortal, not even before the lightning.

“That’s not so bad, Jessie,” she said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed, while bringing a traitorous hand back to my mouth.

Lunch passed quietly, with Lacey trying to distract me every few minutes, until it actually worked—the heat made the day seem to stretch out, this summer was going to be a hot one, like every other summer ever in Kansas, not a damn cloud in sight.

Maybe Darius had taken all the clouds with him.

She shared her bottled water with me and the headache that’d gripped me ever since my time in the bathroom finally began to relent and?—

The bell rang.

I hadn’t felt it coming on, the current surging from administration outward to all the bells conveniently located in every public place on campus. Lacey stood, but I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down.

“Class is over. If it did work, it’s time.”

She nodded and I pulled out my phone, opened up ZB, and started typing quickly with both thumbs.

I know something you don’t know,

I sent Mysterious Azzho1e, followed by a sweetly smiling emoji.

We sat on the bench as the cafeteria cleared out, and I worried that his phone wasn’t on, it’d run out of juice, or that today was the day he’d finally been caught cheating by his teacher anyhow, rendering the point of all this moot.

That your mom slurps cock? I already know alllllll about that.

He sent me with the same beatific emoji back.

That’s the Mason I knew.

Nope! It’s that you’re gonna fail that test in history.

I waited thirty seconds for him to come up with a witty retort. Had he read the screen? Was his phone in his pocket again? Didn’t matter.

And you’re gonna fail the 12th grade if you don’t agree to meet me privately somewhere by the end of the school day—because I’m gonna tell Principle Michaelson that you’ve been cheating.

Then I doubled down, flipping through the emoji screens to send Mason a row of smiling poops, finished by one last smiley.

“Do they represent what he’s doing right now in his pants? Or is it a commentary on the fate of your backpack?” Lacey asked.

I looked up and over at her and caught her smiling at me and realized that even if this hadn’t worked, it’d worked, you know?—and dared to smile back. “A little of both.”

“Let’s GO, ladies!” Coach Stevens shouted from the cafeteria door.

With the crowd so thin and everyone rushing to get to class, I made it to chemistry unmolested, sitting down just in time.

I didn’t have my notes with me or the book, so I just pulled out a blank piece of paper and Mrs. Goodman could totally see that I was unprepared.

She gave me a raised-eyebrow, but let it slide as she started lecturing.

I’d set my phone on vibrate, so I’d feel whatever messages I got, if any.

What if Mason didn’t check his phone again until ten o’clock tonight?

Out of fingernails, I started gnawing on the end of my pencil.

Then I felt a light buzz, my phone wriggling in my back-pocket like it was a living thing, rattling against my chair. I tilted forward before I could get busted for it. It was Mason—it had to be him, right?

I wanted to phase out just a little to read my phone, but what if that snuffed out the last of my powers, when I could read my phone with my dang eyeballs?

When I thought Mrs. Goodman wasn’t looking I snuck a hand back and brought my phone out to hide under my desk on top my thighs.

And while I made sure I appeared to be paying attention, furtively turned it on and opened it up and waited until she turned to the chalkboard to look down, scooting back so that I could see the screen, where two messages waited.

Okay.

My dad’s body-shop. 10:30.

I hadn’t expected him to call the spot—but the time—it was good, late enough that my mom would be at work and Allie would be in bed so help me?—

A shadow crossed my desk. I looked up as Mrs. Goodman looked down.

“Jessica. Really?” Mrs. Goodman said, drawing out the ‘r’.

“Sorry,” I said, giving her a timid smile and putting my phone away in my bag. She cleared her throat, looked disdainfully at everyone, and continued.

And to think, chemistry used to be my favorite class.

It took me longer to gather up my notes than usual—I made sure to keep a firm hold on my bag the entire time—and stood, only to find Liam waiting nearby. He did a friend-check over both shoulders and out the door before talking to me.

“Saw your thing on ZB. Team’s pissed. Anyone respond?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Some.”

“Who?”

“A) like I’d tell you, B) they’re all anonymous if they want to be. You know how ZB works.”

“How many?” he pressed.

“Some,” I said again. I couldn’t tell from the expression on his face if he genuinely cared or just needed to know how many times Colton’s shrine had been violated. I put each shoulder through the too small straps of my backpack. “Who’s pissed most?”

“Who do you think?” he said, and walked out.