Proven

Chapter 3

I can't leave here. It's as simple as that. Getting into this school was so hard, I can't imagine leaving after what I've done. What would I tell Mom? She doesn't believe in running away from "fate." She claims that if I'm mean to be caught, it will happen. In her eyes, it would be crazy that I left.

"Leave?" I choke. "Leave?"

"Unless you don't want to be a Teller anymore," Ms. Limm walks away, signifying that she won't talk about this anymore.

I'm surprised that she called me a Teller. The only people who ever called me that were the people who made me one. It's almost a sacred name to me considering that it's used so sparsely.

I'm still not going to listen to her. I check my watch and leave. Mallory and I have unfinished business to take care of. It's nine, almost curfew. So I have a half hour to beat Mallory to a pulp.

Going up the stairs here is a workout. There's about three flights, all of which are immensely steep. Normally, I hate going up the stairs. But knowing that I might be forced to leave, I'm relishing every step.

When I get to my room, I feel like collapsing. Three beds line the wall on the right, a giant window letting in the pale moonlight. Chelsea has the middle bed, her neon pink comforter practically glows in the dark. Emma's bed is on the far end and mine is at the entrance.

I flick the light on and let it flicker a few seconds before I drop my new journal on the mattress. Not every secret is going in there. Probably only half of them. And he'll have no way of knowing whether or not I lie.

Both beds are empty, meaning Chels and Em are probably both in the game room. I sit on Em's bed and prepare to read her. It helps to have a connection to her when looking at her thoughts.

*Gotta make this next shot...* Em thinks. Definitely in the game room. I tune in again, concentrating on what she's doing exactly. If I get into her enough, I can see through her eyes.

*I need to talk Chelsea into moving out of Cara's room,* I hear her think.

So even she's turned her back on me. My heart drops like a rock being thrown off a cliff. She was the first one to befriend me here and invited me into this room. I place my palm in the middle of a small design on her comforter. Trying not to cry, I close my eyes and attempt to see through her eyes one last time.

The vision comes into sight, blurry, but still there. I mentally blink to clear up the fuzz in the image. A ping pong ball bounces across a worn green table. The "net" is just a few books stacked across the middle. That's my school; cheap and resourceful.

"Did you hear about Cara?" I hear Chelsea ask. It's weird to be inside somebody but not be able to control their muscles.

Em is across the table, skillfully moving her arm to hit the little yellow ball.

"It's kind of creepy," she hits the ball with a surprising force. "She could be reading our thoughts right now."

The irony, she doesn't even know I'm listening to her say that.

"At least we know now," I hear "my" mouth say. One day, I hope to be able to control people as well. But I doubt that will ever happen. "I was thinking. We should probably kick her out of our room."

"Oh?" Emma reaches for the ball, but it flies past her.

"Yeah. We don't want her listening in on us all the time."

I almost laugh at that, but I'm afraid I'd lose my connection by doing so.

"Why don't we just scare her out of moving out? I don't want to hurt her feelings."

She bounces the ball the table with her paddle, then slams it over. It barely clears the top of the books.

"What should we do?"

"Let's--"

The image blurs again and I slowly fade out. I wasn't done! I need to know what they're doing. Defeated, I leave the room, brainstorming the possible ways they could scare me. Both are good actresses and I would never be able to tell when they were lying to me or not. It's better to question everything they say.

I wander through the hallways, trying to get myself lost. But the more I think about not being able to find my way back, the more I remember about which way I came from.

I find a spot to lean against the wall. With one deep breath, I feel a hand clench my shoulder. Shrieking, I fall backwards. But there's not enough time to see who it is. A bag is thrown over my head and pulled tightly around me neck. One thought passes through my head.

They found me.

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