BEING JAMIE BAKER

Chapter 5

Some nights there's just no sleeping. After Ryan left I had one of those nights. I liked him, and I hated that I liked him. I went to bed wondering how I could make myself stop liking him, but the only flaw I'd found in him so far was an abundance of confidence that I wasn't sure wasn't completely justified. There was no way to hate him. I could only hate myself because I couldn't have him, and it was that wonderful thought that kept me tossing and turning all night.

I think I finally dozed off sometime after sunrise, and when my mother came creeping into my bedroom, it felt a lot earlier than the noon she claimed it was. "Rise and shine, Jamie, before there's not any shine left to rise to."

"Mom, I really don't feel good. I think I'm just going to stay in bed today."

"You're not sick, Jamie, you're wallowing. Moping around your room all weekend is not going to make you feel any better. Come on—up,

up, up! I heard somewhere that Macy's is having a sale. Let's go pick out cute new outfits and get our nails done the way we used to."

I have to admit that even though I knew exactly what she was up to, the offer was still tempting. I missed those spontaneous day trips I used to take into Chicago with my mom whenever one of us had a really bad day. But the thought of a cute new outfit brought on a whole new wave of depression, and I pulled the covers over my head. "You go ahead, Mom. I don't have any need for a cute new outfit, anyway."

"We also need to hit the beauty supply store. You're running low on hair dye, and your roots need a touch-up."

"And you don't know what brand and color I use by now?"

"All right, fine," my mom said, refusing to let my face stay buried beneath my covers. "I'll get some new clothes, and you can go crazy in Borders."

That offer was even better. I love reading. I didn't always, but now I found it such a quiet, peaceful, relaxing hobby. It gave me the chance to read about people like me, even if they were just pretend. My mom, however, only saw it as an easy way to be antisocial and didn't like the fact that I did it so much. So her bribing me with books meant she was truly concerned this time.

It was clear that she was never going to let me lie in bed all day, so I grudgingly got up. The next thing I knew, I was sucking down an Orange Julius in an overcrowded food court, trying not to let my mother see how much the noise was making my head hurt. She already felt bad enough to spring for eight new books, so she didn't need to feel any worse.

I hadn't really touched my lunch. After last night I wasn't all that hungry. My mom noticed, but she hadn't jumped on my case for it. I could tell she was still trying to figure out a way to cheer me up, and I knew she was dying to ask me about what happened with Ryan, but so far it was all just conversation that could easily avoid the subject.

"What if you got a job?" she asked randomly when it got quiet.

I just looked at her skeptically.

"No, I'm serious, Jamie. You go to school, and that seems to work just fine. And eventually you're going to grow up and have to get a job anyway. What's wrong with you getting one now? It would give you something to do besides read."

"I like reading, Mom."

"Yeah, but you need to get out and be social more often. And besides, how else are we going to keep paying for all these books?"

"That's what the library is for."

"Come on, Jamie. Having a job is a normal teenage activity. You're always saying you wish you could be normal, but you won't do anything about it. You don't have to make friends at a job if you don't want to, but it might be a good structured activity for you."

"Yeah, because hours of school every day—plus all the homework—isn't enough."

"I know you're having a bad day, but don't you get an attitude with me," my mother said sternly, suddenly making me feel like a jerk. "You are not as handicapped as you think you are. If your life is miserable, it's because you let it be."

"Sorry," I muttered out of guilt even though I didn't actually believe what she'd said. My life was miserable and it was out of my control, no matter what she thought. I didn't want her to feel bad, though, so I tried to keep the conversation going.

"A job might not be so bad," I admitted. "It's just that after hours of being at school with all the noise, my head usually hurts like crazy, and I need some peace and quiet. It's hard to be around so many people all the time."

My mom's sour expression turned into concern as she looked around the crowded mall. "Are you feeling all right now? Do we need to go home?"

"No, Mom." I sighed even though I wanted nothing more than to be back home, lying in bed. "I'm fine right now. I'm just saying it might make it difficult to have a job while I'm in school."

She sighed and things got quiet again. I glanced at her before I reached up to rub my head, but she didn't notice my discomfort because she was too busy frowning at one of the books I'd just purchased. "Why always with the aliens or superheroes?" she complained.

"Freaks with powers, trying to conceal their true identities?" I laughed bitterly. "I wonder."

"And this?" My mom held up a biography of Stephen King with a disapproving look.

"Hey," I said defensively. "That's not fiction. It's nice to know that there're bigger freaks out there than me."

"Sweetheart, that's not going to make you feel more normal. And there's a whole lot more to you than just having powers, you know. Why don't you find a good drama? I'll bet you could relate to that really well."

I love my mom. She was being dead serious, and yet she still made me smile. "You're calling me the drama queen?" I laughed. There was no questioning where I get my theatrics. "No thanks. I have enough drama in my life already. And besides"—I took the biography from my mother's hands—"I have to read this one for class."

"This is an assignment?" My mom was a little more than skeptical.

I shrugged. "We're all about biographies in English right now."

"And you chose Stephen King?"

"Mr. E. never specified who, and you have to admit, Stephen King is way more interesting than President Obama or Taylor Swift or whoever."

My mother sighed dramatically and then frowned at another book. "All right, fine. But you could still try other books too. You never know, you might really enjoy a nice... romance."

And there it was. Clever but not quite sneaky enough to fool me.

"Didn't you say there was a sale around here somewhere?" I asked, pulling myself from our table.

My mom sighed and followed me down the mall until I stopped in front of a store window with a really nice dress in it. "You should buy something like that, and then make Dad take you someplace nice."

My mom paused a minute, and I smirked because she was finally going to say it. Sure enough, she blurted, "I like Ryan," failing at her attempt to be subtle.

I wandered into the store pretending to be clueless. When she gave me an expectant look, I muttered, "Not gonna happen."

"Jamie, what on earth happened last night?"

"Nothing." I knew she would never buy it, but I still had to try.

Yup, I was right. The look she gave me was definitely a don't-make-me-angry look. "You had me worried sick, and you scared that poor boy half to death."

"Good. Maybe he'll leave me alone now," I grumbled. My mother shot me another death look so I shrugged. "I can't help it. I don't need him telling me how to live my life too. You and Dad do that enough already, and it's not as easy as everyone thinks it is!"

I noticed that my tone of voice was all of a sudden really harsh when my mom's eyes glossed over with moisture, and I felt like crap. "I tried, okay?" I said, calming myself. "I tried to talk to Ryan and it didn't work. I nearly blew up the house! Face it, Mom. As much as I wish I could be normal, I'm just not."

My mom looked upset, and I could tell she wanted to disagree, but she didn't know what to say. She couldn't argue that I fried the circuit breakers last night, and I was sure she knew it could have been a lot worse. I felt bad, but what could I do?

Sometimes there's just not anything to say, so to break the awkward silence I pulled a little black cocktail dress off the rack and handed it to my mom. "You should try this on."

It took her a second, but my mom eventually gave up and took the dress. When she disappeared into a changing room I started flipping through some of the nearby racks. Once she wasn't standing there distracting me, I started to notice all the chatter going on around me. Two voices stuck out right away. I couldn't see them, but it was definitely Paige and Tamika, and they were happily discussing their favorite topic. "She's still not answering her phone. I hope she's all right," Tamika said.

"It?