wearing belongs to her. Go on, open it.”
I didn’t want to look away from Logan. I was too scared. I had the sinking feeling that, in terms of Michael Jackson songs, things were about to go from “Bad” to “Off the Wall”.
I looked down and opened the locket. It didn’t try and resist this time.
“Yes, that’s a photo of me inside and yes that locket belongs to Stacey. My girlfriend, Stacey.”
Wow. Rebecca not only stole the attention of all the boys in this lifetime, a past incarnation of her was stealing boys from me too. This boy. This boy who also happened to be from a previous lifetime.
Shit. That sounded completely screwed.
“Just to let you know, I’m not giving this locket back to Stacey – I mean Rebecca – unless she asks for it back.”
I snapped the locket shut. I had wanted it to be mine so badly. So badly it hurt. I wished I could say so.
“What’s with the sudden animosity?” asked Logan.
“Nothing!” I shouted at him. I could feel the scraping of chairs behind me.
“What was that thing you were saying about not being caught talking to nothing?”
“I don’t care! And if it makes you happy – yes! We are the bloody Breakfast Club – the nerds are over there, I’m obviously the social outcast, your girlfriend in there is the princess and you’re – you’re the rebel-without-a-freaking-cause to lead girls on. Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”
And with that I stormed off, past the table of gawping nerds, and went to sit in the girls toilets for two hours. It was going to be the longest two hours of my life.
Chapter 5
I leaned against the metal trough in the girls toilets. Why didn’t this school have proper porcelain sinks? Were we not civilised enough to use sinks?
I opened the locket, looked at the photo of Logan and then shut it. How stupid was I? It was like I’d been locked up in an ivory tower for sixteen years and he was the first boy to try to climb up my hair. I was as bad as all the girls who put posters of pop stars on their bedroom walls and then screamed so loud at the concerts that they fainted.
I shoved the locket down my school shirt.
“Amy? Can you open the door for me?”
“No.”
“You know I can’t open it.”
“Why don’t you figure out how to get in yourself?”
A disembodied hand appeared through the badly graffitied red paint – followed by the rest of Logan’s body as he fell through the door.
“Woah!” I shouted and jumped back.
“Woah!” he exclaimed. “Awesome.”
“You just said awesome,” I said in surprise.
“Yeah. Duh. Why wouldn’t I? That was awesome. You try passing through a solid surface sometime.”
“I thought we invented awesome. I didn’t know it was so old .”
“Nope. The Eighties invented awesome. Space Invaders, Rubik’s cubes, Alf . You know Alf right? ‘ I kill me! ’ You get it? It’s like ‘you kill me’, but his jokes are so funny he kills himself.”
“Primitive computer games, primitive toys and a TV show about a talking puppet from space. Life must have been easy.”
“No.” Logan looked at me seriously. “We had drugs, eating disorders and teen suicide too. Or did you think they were just invented last year?”
I looked down at my hands. Logan sat on the edge of the trough. He hovered a few millimetres above the metal surface.
“I came in to see why you overreacted out there. Or do you think you’re the only teenager ever to have problems?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still looking at my hands. I don’t know why I’m overreacting. I don’t know why you having a girlfriend affects me. I don’t know why I see things normal people don’t. I don’t know why I’m a weirdo . I wanted to say all these things and more, but I couldn’t.
I wondered if he was still able to read my mind, so I did what a typical teenager would do; I shut down my emotions, refused to say what really mattered and changed the subject.
“You know Logan, I wonder why you can
I didn’t want to look away from Logan. I was too scared. I had the sinking feeling that, in terms of Michael Jackson songs, things were about to go from “Bad” to “Off the Wall”.
I looked down and opened the locket. It didn’t try and resist this time.
“Yes, that’s a photo of me inside and yes that locket belongs to Stacey. My girlfriend, Stacey.”
Wow. Rebecca not only stole the attention of all the boys in this lifetime, a past incarnation of her was stealing boys from me too. This boy. This boy who also happened to be from a previous lifetime.
Shit. That sounded completely screwed.
“Just to let you know, I’m not giving this locket back to Stacey – I mean Rebecca – unless she asks for it back.”
I snapped the locket shut. I had wanted it to be mine so badly. So badly it hurt. I wished I could say so.
“What’s with the sudden animosity?” asked Logan.
“Nothing!” I shouted at him. I could feel the scraping of chairs behind me.
“What was that thing you were saying about not being caught talking to nothing?”
“I don’t care! And if it makes you happy – yes! We are the bloody Breakfast Club – the nerds are over there, I’m obviously the social outcast, your girlfriend in there is the princess and you’re – you’re the rebel-without-a-freaking-cause to lead girls on. Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”
And with that I stormed off, past the table of gawping nerds, and went to sit in the girls toilets for two hours. It was going to be the longest two hours of my life.
Chapter 5
I leaned against the metal trough in the girls toilets. Why didn’t this school have proper porcelain sinks? Were we not civilised enough to use sinks?
I opened the locket, looked at the photo of Logan and then shut it. How stupid was I? It was like I’d been locked up in an ivory tower for sixteen years and he was the first boy to try to climb up my hair. I was as bad as all the girls who put posters of pop stars on their bedroom walls and then screamed so loud at the concerts that they fainted.
I shoved the locket down my school shirt.
“Amy? Can you open the door for me?”
“No.”
“You know I can’t open it.”
“Why don’t you figure out how to get in yourself?”
A disembodied hand appeared through the badly graffitied red paint – followed by the rest of Logan’s body as he fell through the door.
“Woah!” I shouted and jumped back.
“Woah!” he exclaimed. “Awesome.”
“You just said awesome,” I said in surprise.
“Yeah. Duh. Why wouldn’t I? That was awesome. You try passing through a solid surface sometime.”
“I thought we invented awesome. I didn’t know it was so old .”
“Nope. The Eighties invented awesome. Space Invaders, Rubik’s cubes, Alf . You know Alf right? ‘ I kill me! ’ You get it? It’s like ‘you kill me’, but his jokes are so funny he kills himself.”
“Primitive computer games, primitive toys and a TV show about a talking puppet from space. Life must have been easy.”
“No.” Logan looked at me seriously. “We had drugs, eating disorders and teen suicide too. Or did you think they were just invented last year?”
I looked down at my hands. Logan sat on the edge of the trough. He hovered a few millimetres above the metal surface.
“I came in to see why you overreacted out there. Or do you think you’re the only teenager ever to have problems?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, still looking at my hands. I don’t know why I’m overreacting. I don’t know why you having a girlfriend affects me. I don’t know why I see things normal people don’t. I don’t know why I’m a weirdo . I wanted to say all these things and more, but I couldn’t.
I wondered if he was still able to read my mind, so I did what a typical teenager would do; I shut down my emotions, refused to say what really mattered and changed the subject.
“You know Logan, I wonder why you can
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