The Whisper Seekers

In Their Heads

I think I just rolled my eyes so hard I may have seen my brain.

This happens a lot when I'm forced to endure my friends' fake niceness, like I am right now. I'm standing in a dressing room, up to my ears in silk and sequins, listening to my friends gush about homecoming dresses. So far, it's been all smiles and compliments, accompanied by oohs and ahhs. But in girl talk, that really means: Her boobs are falling out, she looks better than me, and her muffin top looks more like a pound cake in that one. Highland Park's homecoming dance is still more than a month away, but we wanted first dibs on the best dresses.

This past week, I've had to listen to Lily and Harper obsess over every little homecoming detail, just like they do every year. This is our fifth store in the biggest mall in Dallas, and so far, we haven't had any luck finding the dress. We all come out of the fitting rooms to show off our latest picks, and I brace myself for the fake compliments to start spilling out.

"That really accentuates your hips, Lily, it looks amazing on you!" Harper gushes while gazing at Lily's skintight teal sequin dress that brings out her wide blue eyes. She actually looks skinny in that one is what Harper's really thinking. And Lily quickly moves the focus from her to me.

"Okay, Ellie, that is the best one. I know I said that about the navy blue one and the short pink crop top one, but I really like that one," she says as she stares at the glittering black mini dress I've shimmied my way into.

We all stand in the three-way mirror in silence, turning from side to side to get the full look of the dresses and, to be honest, checking out how good our asses look. As I am trying to imagine the night of the dance in this almost perfect dress, all I can hear is an abundance of whispers interrupting my moment. I'm listening to Lily and Harper's mental notes of the pros and cons of each dress they've tried on. I'm not assuming or guessing what they are thinking. I actually know what they are saying to themselves and their thoughts overwhelm me. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes for a second.

"Another migraine, Ellie?" Lily asks with a concerned expression taking over her soft face. I shake my head and pop my eyes open.

"I'm fine," I say, waving off her worried tone. Harper and Lily exchange a knowing look at my snappy response. I've told my best friends that I suffer from severe migraines, and that pinching the bridge of my nose is how I sense one coming on. That's just one of the many lies I've told to cover up my strange condition. Honestly, it would be easier if I did have migraines. I've even blamed constant ear infections that make me temporarily deaf just so I can refocus and block out the noise. They think I should be walking around in a giant plastic bubble. The truth? I'm more like a walking science experiment.

I can't turn off my ability to read minds.

I wish I could say I'm just highly intuitive or freakishly good at reading body language. But the truth is: I can literally hear people's thoughts. I call them whispers because that's what they sound like, soft and slippery, just barely louder than a breeze. Most of the time, I can separate the whispers and match them to the person thinking them. But sometimes, when it gets too loud, I can't tell whose thoughts are whose. No one, not even my closest friends, knows about this. And after a few too many eye rolls and way too many therapy sessions, I've learned it's better to keep it that way.

I realize I have been quiet for too long and knowing mother hen Lily, I know I need to change the subject back to the dresses.

"I think that sequin style looks best on you, Lily. The teal really brings out your blue eyes," I tell her honestly as we stand and stare.

Lily twists up her long golden hair and turns to check out her lower half again. She glances at the price tag, and I hear her mentally note the cost. Harper, now fully focused on herself, cocks her head to the side to admire the short red mini dress she's wearing. She plays with the crisscrossing straps and smooths down the silky fabric over her toned stomach with her palm.

Harper is one of the few girls I know who can actually pull off that shade of red against her fair skin. Her reddish-chestnut hair and bright hazel eyes seem to go with everything she slips on and she never misses a chance to remind us of that.

"I'm getting this one. My boobs have never looked better in a dress and I'll just throw on some simple earrings. Done," Harper says while pushing the door of her fitting room open. 

Lily turns from the mirror and stuffs herself back into her packed room. I hear the zipper of her dress as she shouts over the cracked door, "Okay, Ellie, what about you? You haven't seemed overly thrilled about anything you've tried on." Even though you can buy a plastic bag, tape some flowers on it, and still look better than anyone there. I grin and stare at myself in the black silk while listening to her jealous thoughts. I eyed the dress from the store window as we passed the display and knew it was the one I was going to want. The glittery straps caught my attention and I knew the open back would flatter my tiny figure.

"I'm getting the one I have on, I'm over it. Let's go," I say nonchalantly and slip the dress back onto the hanger. I hear both Lily's and Harper's, thank God!

Thanks to her thoughts, I know Harper is secretly jealous that I can scarf down endless amounts of junk food and calorie-loaded snacks and still stay a size two with no post-guilt workouts required. Unlike her.

Harper lost a lot of weight the summer before our freshman year and has been health-obsessed ever since, counting every calorie and overanalyzing every bite. It drives Lily and me crazy. She secretly competes with me on everything, from test scores to who nails the dance routines faster at cheer practice. And because I know just how annoyingly competitive she is, I make a point to beat her at everything. I find an odd satisfaction in dominating her in, well, everything.

Lily, on the other hand, hates that I decided to dye my mousy brown hair golden blonde like hers last spring. Otherwise, she hardly has any bad thoughts about anyone but herself. She feels like she has a hard time keeping up with us when it comes to our spending allowances after her dad lost his job a few months back. Both Harper and I always subtly offer to pick up her mocha or pitch for gas when she drives us around, but she never accepts it- she never wants to feel like she isn't equal to us.

Despite their occasional jealousy, both Harper and Lily are loyal, trustworthy friends, and our bond has only grown since our mothers put us in etiquette classes when we were in the eighth grade. We had all gone to different middle schools, so we couldn't wait to all be together once we started high school.

I think ahead to the dance and homecoming week, knowing the madness is only just beginning.

I leave the dressing room with a quiet sense of accomplishment and head toward the register, where Harper and Lily are lingering. Lily is already debating whether to buy the flattering teal dress. She's nervous about how her mom will react when she finds out Lily went over her spending limit. Guilt wins. 

She shoves the dress onto the nearest rack and lies, saying, "I actually don't really like the color." She plays it off, but I shoot Harper a knowing look.

I hand the saleswoman my dress, trying to contain my excitement over my latest purchase for Lily's sake.

"Your total comes to $481.97," the clerk says, giving me the once-over. Her thoughts quickly conclude that I can afford the dress just based on how I look, worried that her commission may be taken away if I were to return it. Handing her my mom's thick black Amex comforts her. 

She slips the dress into a garment bag without saying much, but her thoughts are loud: she wishes she'd been born into money like the three of us, instead of working a part-time retail job.

I flip the garment bag over my shoulder and wait for Harper to finish her purchase. Lily mentions checking out another department store inside the mall, and just like that, we're off again on a mission to find the final dress.