Marilyn Kaye - Better Late Than Never

Oh, Amanda, you can't have it all. You must know that.

But she didn't know that. She'd always had everything she wanted, and she wasn't about to stop now: Not when she'd found someone she wanted to be with more than anyone else in the world. This couldn't be happening to her, Amanda Beeson! She would not allow her heart to break! They belonged together, she and Rick. They had to be together …

But from some place far away, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she heard a faint voice.

Goodbye, my love.

And she wasn't in the restroom anymore.

She was in her seat in the gifted class. Her usual seat--Amanda's seat. Madame was looking at her with interest. Amanda didn't think it was because of her report.

But all Madame said was, "Thank you, Amanda. Sarah, would you like to go next?"

Amanda didn't hear a word Sarah said. Her head was spinning and she was trying to get a grip on herself.

How did she get here? Was it the strength of her emotions that had pushed her back inside her own body? Emotions she'd never admitted to herself before?

The classroom door opened and a dazed-looking Ken entered.

"Feeling better?" Madame asked, eyeing him keenly.

He nodded and took his seat. He glanced at Amanda and then looked quickly away.

He's embarrassed, Amanda thought. He knows I was using him and he's feeling awkward. Not to mention the fact that he came to in a girls' restroom.

She waited for the bell to ring and went to his seat before he could even get up.

"Hi . . ." she said, uncertain as to how he would respond.

He finally looked directly at her. "What happened?"

So he knew he hadn't been himself and he knew she had something to do with it. She realized honesty was the only way to go.

"I was inside your body. I saw you watching the soccer team practice. You looked so sad, and I felt sorry for you, and then, well, it just happened."

Okay, she wasn't being completely honest. But he didn't have to know her real motives. Mostly because those motives had disappeared once Rick had come into her life.

"How did it feel?" she asked. "Having me inside you?"

"I don't know," he said. "I mean, it was like a dream, all blurry and … and not real. Like I was here and I wasn't here . . ." He looked at her helplessly.

She could almost understand how he felt. It had to be so personal, having someone else inside you. Funny how she had never considered what Tracey felt when she had left her body. But then, Amanda Beeson didn't ever consider other people's feelings.

"What did you make me do?" he asked suddenly.

"You gave me a poem," she admitted. Even as she spoke, she knew it was a mistake to tell him this. Because, of course, there was only one thing he could say.

"Why?"

She confessed, "I wanted you to like me."

It wasn't a very flattering reaction. He looked confused and then embarrassed again. He also seemed curious.

"Was it a good poem?" he asked.

"Yeah. But I didn't appreciate it."

He nodded and then rose. "I have to go."

She watched him leave and wondered if she'd ever have any kind of relationship with him again. Of course he wasn't surprised to learn that she hadn't appreciated a poem. The Amanda Beeson he knew wouldn't care.

If she'd known then what she knew now--about people and feelings. About herself. About pain and hurt and sadness.

But now she understood. And like the old poster proclaimed, this could be the first day of the rest of her life. She could be a different person, a better person.

Without Rick. And she had to call on the resources of the old Amanda, the Amanda who didn't care, to keep herself from bursting into tears right there and then.

Because she didn't think the memory would be enough.

SOMETHING WEIRD WAS GOING on with Amanda, Jenna thought as she half listened to Sarah's report. She could tell, just from the snotty girl's expression. She could explore her mind and find out what was happening.

But she had too many other things to think about. She was excited and she was scared.

Her father had called the principal to get her excused. He was picking her up right after this class, in less than 30 minutes. They'd be going directly to the airport, where he'd return the little rental car and they'd board a flight to Las Vegas. That was the exciting part.

She hadn't told Tracey, and she hadn't left a note for the Devons. But that wasn't the scary part. She wasn't sure what the scary part was. Flying for the first time? She didn't think that was it.

Sarah had finished her report, and Madame called on Ken. Ken was reluctant.

"Could I put this off till tomorrow?" he asked. "I'm kind of not in the mood."

That wasn't the sort of excuse that Madame usually accepted, but for some strange reason, she smiled at Ken and nodded. "Yes, that's all right. Let's see . . . has everyone given their reports?"

Emily's hand shot up. Madame looked puzzled.

"You gave your report last week, Emily."

"I just have a question to ask Ken, Madame. I was wondering if maybe he's had a chance to think about what I asked him. If he could contact my father."

Madame frowned. "Emily--"

But before she could go on, Amanda spoke.

"Knock it off, Emily! Leave him alone!"

Jenna was stunned, and she assumed that everyone else in the room was having the same reaction. This wasn't like Amanda. She was way too emotional.

And she didn't stop. "You don't know what it's like for Ken--to get involved with people like this, people he can't see or do anything for. It's hard enough for him to cope with the ones who contact him--he shouldn't have to go out and seek them. He suffers. Don't you understand that?"

Was there another body snatcher around? Jenna wondered. Had someone taken over Amanda? She'd never heard Amanda speak with such passion before, not even about herself.

Ken was looking at Amanda, but he didn't seem quite as shocked as everyone else. And strangely enough, Madame was almost smiling.

Suddenly, Ken clutched his head. Madame looked at him in alarm. "Are you all right, Ken?" she asked for the second time that day.

"I'm getting a message," Ken blurted out.

"From my father?" Emily asked excitedly.

"No." He turned to Jenna. "From yours."

Jenna stared at him. "My father isn't dead."

Ken held up one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other. "Wait . . . yes. Okay. I will."

No one had ever actually seen or heard Ken talk to dead people before. The room was hushed and expectant.

His face cleared, and he spoke to Jenna. "He died eight years ago, Jenna. From a gunshot wound, in a fight. He wants me to give you a message."

"This is crazy," Jenna declared hotly. "I don't know who's talking to you, Ken, but it's not my father. Stuart Kelley is alive and well, and he's picking me up in less than thirty minutes."

"He's an impostor," Ken told her. "Your father says that guy found out about you, but he doesn't know how. He's a professional gambler. He wants to use you for your mind-reading gift so he can win at poker."

"That's not true! He saw my mother at the hospital. She'd know if he was an impostor."

"Are you sure he saw your mother, Jenna?" Madame asked quietly.

Amanda reached inside her handbag. "Here, use my cell phone. Call the hospital and find out if she's had any visitors."

"No!" Jenna cried out.

Ken was rubbing his head again. "He's a scam artist, Jenna. He's got a friend working with him. Someone named Arnie. Have you ever heard of him?"

Arnie. The guy in the restaurant who knew him from way back when. The poker game in the back room. Jenna's stomach turned over.

"This isn't true!" she screamed. But it came out as a whisper.