Peek-A-Boo Brain
(Mind Reader Series #1)
By Susan Hatler


Chapter One

Thursday, 7:05 a.m.

Dear Diary,

In twenty minutes I need to leave for school, but I’ve got to tell you what happened yesterday. Yes, I know I should’ve written last night, but there was an E Channel special on Tobey Maguire. BTW, why don’t heroes like him exist in real life? Every time I watch Spiderman, I get chills. I mean, he SAVES people-not to mention he’s smart and mega cute.

Anyway, enough about my fantasy man and on to what happened yesterday. In Trig, Mr. McKay passed back the pop quiz from Monday and I got an A-hah!

So, an A is good and all that, but that’s not even the exciting part. Guess who was waiting at my locker after History class? JOEL TEMPLETON! He was leaning with his shoulder against the locker, looking all cool and babe-like. It made my palms sweaty being so close to him and I must’ve gotten nervous or something cuz I blurted, “Do you mind? I can’t exactly enter my lock combo with your elbow in the way.”

I may have a 4.0, but if they gave grades in talking to guys I’d get an F for sure. Why can’t I flirt like a normal sixteen-year-old? What is it about being around a hot guy that makes me go all sarcastic?

The good news is, he didn’t tell me off. Instead, his mouth crept into that sexy half-smile thing he does and he said, “I heard you got an A on McKay’s pop-quiz. If I need a tutor, guess I know who to come to.”

For future note, some choice responses would’ve been: “I’m the world’s best tutor,” “I’m free after school today,” or “Why don’t I tutor you, then we can go see a movie after?”

What I actually said was: “Just cuz I get math, doesn’t mean I can teach it.”

Lame! Lame! Lame! For some reason, he didn’t seem annoyed by my response. He just laughed and said, “Catch you later.”

I almost can’t believe it, but I think he might like me! Maybe I’ll run into him today and can say something properly flirtatious. Hey, weirder things could happen, right?

Uh-oh, doorbell just rang. Who the heck’s coming to our apartment this early in the morning? Gotta run.

Till tonight,

Kylie, the new and improved flirter (or so she hopes).

I tossed my diary on my dresser and hurried down the hall as the doorbell rang again. “Dad, can you get that?”

No answer, so I peeked into his room. His bathroom door was closed and I heard the shower running.

The doorbell rang a third time.

“Guess I’ll have to get it myself,” I mumbled, heading to the front door. I peered through the peephole and saw some guy’s profile. With his suit and briefcase, he looked like a salesman.

I opened the door but he didn’t notice. He was too busy staring at our neighbor, Vera. As usual, she was retrieving her newspaper in one of her slinky nighties.

“Good morning, Vera,” I said, as a way of telling this suit guy, Ahem, I can see you staring at my neighbor’s breasts.

“Good morning, Kylie,” she said, while flashing a smile at Suit Man.

Why couldn’t I manage a flirty smile like that for Joel? Not that I’d ever wear a lace slip in front of a guy - or for any reason really. Way too uncomfortable. Not to mention drafty.

Vera turned away from Suit Man and gave me a knowing smile. “Say hello to your dad for me.”

“Sure.” I nodded, wondering why she insisted on flirting with my dad when it got her nowhere. My mom died when I was three and Dad hadn’t dated a woman since. Not likely he’d start now.

Vera sashayed back into her apartment, but Suit Man remained where he was as if too enthralled to move.

Bored of waiting to say no to whatever he was selling, I cleared my throat. “Can I help you?”

Suit Man smiled at me casually, as if he hadn’t been gaping at my nearly naked neighbor. “You must be Kylie.”

“Yeah . . .” Okay, that’s weird. How’d the salesman know my name? Had Vera said it?

He held his arm out to shake my hand. “I’m Tom Bingman. I work with your dad.”

“Oh.” Dad mentioned Tom on occasion. Tom counseled the police after shootings and stuff, just like Dad sometimes did. “Nice to meet you.”

I reached out and placed my hand in his.

Immediately, my hand felt like I’d shoved it inside an electrical socket. Heavy vibrations zoomed up my arm and neck, and then slammed into my head. Smoky images flashed in my mind as if a slideshow had started playing. Tom and Vera. Him shoving her against her front door. His hand sliding around to her backside, lifting her up. Her legs closing around his waist. His hand pushing away the thin strap on her nightie, causing it to slide down her shoulder and reveal her . . .

“Aagh!” I jerked my hand away from Tom’s and fell on my butt. Thankfully the screen in my head went black-before Vera’s slip fell all the way off.

“Are you okay?” Tom knelt in front of me

I panted hard. What. Just. Happened? I’d seen Vera in her nighties for years and not once had I imagined her hooking up with a guy. Especially not in a hazy slideshow. I mean, why would I want to see that? Blech.

“Kylie?” He waved a hand in front of my face. “You’re acting strange. Say something so I know you’re all right.”

But, I wasn’t okay. I looked at him. Then-boom!-the x-rated images burst into my head again as if by photographic memory. What was this? Tom’s fantasies playing in my brain? “G-gross!”

“What’s going on?” he asked, sounding frustrated.

There’s no way I was going to repeat what I’d just seen. Yuck. “It’s n-nothing. I’m fine.”

Tom’s eyes crinkled. “Are you sure?”

Most definitely not, but all I wanted was to get away from him before those pictures popped into my head again. “Um, hang on.” I scrambled to my feet and ran back into the apartment, yelling, “Dad! Tom’s here to see you!”

“Okay, be right there,” Dad called back.

Although it was rude to leave Tom at the door by himself, it was that or possibly see his dirty thoughts again. And that would be too traumatizing to chance.

So, I slammed the door to my room, leaned my forehead against the wood, and tried to make sense of what just happened.

I’d seen Tom’s fantasy. But, how? Had my brain somehow peeked into his? What other explanation could there be? We’d shaken hands, I’d felt buzzing course up my arm and then-bam!-blurry images played in my head.

Ew. I shuddered.

I think, I mean I had to have read Tom’s mind. Unless I’d turned into some kinky voyeur. And, um, I don’t think so.

As with anytime I freaked out, I wanted to run to my dad. He gives pretty cool advice, probably because he’s a psyche guy and all. He’d totally reassure me I wasn’t losing my mind and come up with a good explanation for what had happened.

I crept to the kitchen and heard voices murmuring. Great. By the clinks and clanks, it sounded like Dad was making them coffee.

I glanced at my watch. If I didn’t leave for school now, I’d be late. I’m never late. It gives teachers a bad impression and they can switch an A to A- with the flick of a pen.

But, I had to talk to Dad. Should I wait or get to school on time? Tough decision.

Tom and my dad laughed over something. My body went rigid and I decided to eavesdrop. They were only talking about work, not me falling on my butt. Thank goodness.

I peeked around the corner and saw them. Dad poured coffee into Tom’s mug and then sat down at the table. Not likely they’d be done chatting any time soon. Not with full cups and a half a pot warming on the burner.

I checked my watch again. No choice, really. I had to head to school. Besides, who cares that I’d seen Tom’s thoughts? Had to have been a fluke. Right? One of those weird, unexplainable psychic things you heard about on TV that happen once and then that’s the end of it. Or maybe I had a brain tumor like John Travolta in Phenomenon.

My spine stiffened. I really needed to talk to Dad.

Deciding to do it tonight, I snagged my backpack from my room, then slipped past the kitchen so I wouldn’t have to see Tom again. Ick.

“Bye, Dad!” I yelled, then bolted out the front door, and drove toward Sacramento Valley High School.

A few minutes later, I pulled my car into a parking stall at school, killed the engine, and nearly had a heart attack. Standing twenty feet away was my best friend, Julie. And she was flirting expertly with Joel Templeton.

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Chapter Two

Reading Tom’s mind had been gross, but watching Julie touch Joel’s arm truly rattled me. I mean, she’s my best friend and knows Joel’s my current crush (after Tobey, of course). So, what does she think she’s doing?

Wait a minute. I’d just had a freaky morning. Maybe I was making too much of this. It was only an arm squeeze, after all. Could mean anything. If only I knew what Julie was thinking.

Huh. There’s a thought. I stared at my blonde friend, concentrated hard, and tried to read her mind from behind the steering wheel.

Nothing.

I held my hands up and worked to control the energy from me to her. “Come on. Open her mind. Does she like Joel or what?”

Nope. Still couldn’t see a thing.

Maybe I needed to be closer to her like I’d been with Tom. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I got out of my car and headed over to Julie and Joel, hoping to get a rational explanation. That is, if I could figure out how to get my peek-a-boo brain working again.

Julie didn’t notice me approach, probably because she was too busy gazing into my crush’s eyes. But, Joel saw me right away and waved all casual like.

“Hey, Kylie.” His mouth formed a lazy half-smile. “How’s it going?”

“I’ve been better.” Well, it wasn’t flirtatious but certainly true.

Julie looked startled, but then she smiled and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Hi, girl. What’s up?”

“You tell me.” I stopped a foot away, gazed into her eyes, and mentally begged her thoughts to appear in my head.

She raised her eyebrows, which she had a habit of doing whenever anything piqued her interest, irritated her, bothered her . . . basically, she raised those penciled brows a lot.

“Did one of your contacts fall out or something?”

“Huh?”

She leaned toward me and I could smell her bubble-gum breath. “Your eyes look all buggy.”

I stopped flaring my eyes and blinked. How come I’d been able to read Tom Bingam’s mind and not Julie’s? Forget the strange phenomenon crap I’d said earlier. Rationally, if I read someone’s mind once, I should be able to do it again.

Now, what had I done with Tom that I wasn’t doing with Julie? He’d shaken my hand and then-whammo!-X-rated thoughts in my head like Cable TV. Hmmm . . . he’d shaken my hand, then I’d felt those weird vibrations up my arm. Physical contact! That must be the ticket.

Julie snapped a hot pink bubble. “You all right, girl?”

I smiled, happy to have figured out the missing link. “I’ll be better in about two seconds.”

Julie shot Joel a look, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was still looking at me with a smile on his face.

I squinted, trying to figure out how to touch Julie without them thinking I was strange. “What the . . . ?” I put a hand on her rayon-covered shoulder and stared into her eyes. “Are you using new mascara?”

I waited for my hand to vibrate, for her thoughts to fill my brain, but all I felt was Julie shrug. “It’s pretty new. I got it at the MAC counter like a week ago. Why?” She pulled at her eyelashes. “It’s not clumpy, is it?”

“No,” I said, wondering if the fabric between our skin could be breaking the mind connection. I put a hand on her bare elbow. “Your eyelashes look great.” I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the electrical jolt.

Nothing happened.

“How can you see with your eyes closed?” Julie sounded confused. “And since when do you care about make-up?”

“I don’t.” What I cared about was finding out why she’d been flirting with Joel. I glanced at him and he was eyeing me. Great. Now he probably thought I was superficial. I mean, what kind of girl can tell when her friend changes mascara brands? Let’s face it. I suck at the whole boy-girl thing.

“We’d better get going before we’re late for class.” Since I still had a grip on Julie’s elbow, I led her away from the parking lot and down the hall toward my locker.

I started dialing the lock combo by turning it to the right. It was illogical and totally frustrating to be able to read one person’s mind and not another’s. I flipped the locker dial to the left. Especially when the “other” was flirting with Joel and I didn’t know why.

My hand froze on the dial. Joel. I’d dragged Julie out of the parking lot without so much as a goodbye to him. Bad enough that my brain couldn’t read Julie’s, but now my new and improved flirting had been sabotaged.

I looked across the hall at Julie, who was texting someone on her cell phone. Was she was sending a message to Joel? Since I couldn’t read her mind, there was only one other way to find out. I’d have to ask her.

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