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talking, realizing I was about to go
into something I really didn’t want to. I lowered my hands from my
neck and folded them in my lap.
    “If I touch someone,” I said, hoping she
wouldn’t call me on my change of subject, “that can trigger a
flash.”
    “I see,” Mary said. “Bristol, you do know you
can trust me. You can tell me anything.”
    I nodded. I knew I could, but that didn’t make
it easier.
    She sighed, realizing I wasn’t there
yet.
    “So I realized Hoodie Boy was in my history
class. Usually sits in the back, very quiet. So I decided I’d look
for him later that day.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Jerry was pacing right through the wall of my
history class, back and forth as he tried to remember the lyrics to
that song. I took a seat in the back next to Hoodie Boy.
    “We were never formally introduced,” I said.
“My name is Bristol.”
    “Brady,” he said. His eyes barely looked
up.
    “You and I have been in the same class and
we’ve never really talked,” I said.
    Brady just shrugged.
    “Is everything ok?” I asked. “You seem
upset.”
    He shrugged.
    “If you want to talk,” I said, “I’m a good
listener.”
    Brady finally made eye contact. I felt a wave
of sadness roll off of him. He gave me a quick grin and then looked
down at his notebook.
    Mr. Blasdell, our history teacher who looked
old enough that the stuff we were now talking about was probably
current events when he was in school, cleared his throat to signal
for everyone to shut up. He then started to lecture us on the Civil
War.
    When class was over, I turned to talk to Brady
again, but he was already packed up and headed for the door. I
could have chased after him, but felt that would come off as
creepy.
    I got up and headed for the door, Jerry
following me as he sang.
    “With yellow feathers in her hair, and an
orange orangutan.”
    Orangutan?
     
    * * * *
     
    “ I’m starting to get an idea as to
why you found Jerry so annoying,” Mary said. “Did you see Brady
again?
    “ Not that day,” I said. “I asked
around a little, but nobody seemed to know who he was. I don’t
think anyone really noticed him.”
    “ So what did you do?”
    “ I left,” I said. “What else was I
supposed to do? I figured I’d try again the next day. So I walked
home.”
    “ You didn’t take the
bus?”
    “ No,” I said. “I like to walk. I
prefer walking by the park. It helps settle my mind for some
reason, but I took a detour and did some shopping.”
    “ Shopping can be fun,” Mary said.
“Did you go on your own or with some friends?”
    “ Alone,” I said. “Don’t get me
wrong, I’m not as bad as Hoodie Boy. People know who I am, but I
don’t really have any close friends.”
    “ Why not?”
    “ I’m me,” I said, as if that
explained everything.
    “ What does that mean?”
    I sighed. Was it so hard to figure
out?
    “ Look,” I said. “It’s hard to have
a lot of friends when you kind of have this psychic-freak thing
going on. I never know what kind of ghost or spirit might pop in.
Or in what condition they’ll be in. Jerry was just a little messed
up, but imagine trying to grab a pizza with your buddies only to
have someone stroll in who got mauled by a bear, or maybe they’ve
got a big chest wound from being shot. I once had this guy who
disarmed bombs for a living. Talk about a bad day at work—half his
head was gone and he was holding his left arm in his right
hand.”
    Mary scrunched her nose. “Ew, ok. I get the
point. So it was just you.”
    “ Well,” I said. “Jerry was around.
Singing that same song, over and over again.”
    “ He must have been fun company,”
Mary said with a wry smile. “Did you at least get something
nice?”
    I just shrugged.
    “ Bristol,” Mary said. “I can’t help
you unless you talk to me. Did something happen?”
    “ It’s stupid,” I said.
    “ Please,” Mary said. “Tell
me.”
    I sighed and gave in. “I bought a dress,” I
said. “A very nice,