Marilyn Kaye - Better Late Than Never

"Ooh, let me try that!" Tracey cried out excitedly. "Jenna, try to read my mind."

"You made me promise not to."

"Well, I release you from your promise, just for one minute. Starting now."

Feeling like a circus performer, Jenna groaned, but how could she say no to someone who was putting her up for two weeks? So she closed her eyes again.

It didn't take much concentration to read Tracey's thoughts. "You're thinking about dinner tonight and hoping for spaghetti and meatballs."

Tracey made a face. "But I put up a wall, just like Emily did. A brick wall! How come it didn't work for me?"

"How should I know? "Jenna retorted. "Why are some of Emily's predictions right and others not?"

"We're mysteries," Emily said. "We're not like other people. We've got weird gifts that we don't understand, so we can't expect them to work all the time until we learn more about them."

Once again, vague, scatterbrained Emily was making an intelligent observation. They really were mysteries, all of them, Jenna thought.

And personally, she liked being a mystery. It meant that life would be full of surprises.

THE NEXT DAY, WHEN she arrived at school, Amanda went up to the principal's office. There was a student working at the reception desk--a girl named Heather who'd been in Amanda's geometry class last year. Heather wasn't a nerd, but she wasn't in the top clique either, and Amanda was pretty sure she could get Heather to do her a favor.

She was right, and after graciously accepting a compliment from Heather on her new yellow platform shoes, she left the office with a copy of Ken Preston's class schedule. Then she organized her day so that she would accidentally bump into him at various times between classes.

The first two times, he didn't even see her. The third time, he saw her, and when she greeted him, he said hi but didn't stop to talk. And the fourth time, when she tried to start a conversation, he claimed to be busy and hurried off.

It didn't make any sense. Was it possible--really, truly possible--that he wasn't attracted to her? It was hard to believe, but she decided she would have to explore all the possibilities of getting together with him.

For the first time since she'd started the class, she hurried to room 209. She knew Ken wouldn't be there--he always showed up at the last minute. There was someone else she wanted to see--someone who just might be able to help her connect with Ken.

Being the perfect student, Sarah was already in her seat when Amanda arrived. Whoever sat in front of her wasn't there yet, so Amanda took that seat. Sarah looked up in surprise.

"Hello, Amanda."

Amanda tried to remember if she'd ever spoken directly to Sarah. She didn't think so, but she smiled brightly and tried to act as if they talked every day.

"Hi, Sarah. How're you doing?"

Sarah recovered from her shock quickly. "Fine. How are you?"

Amanda put on a doleful face. "Not too good."

Sarah had a reputation for being sweet and understanding, and she demonstrated that now. She looked concerned. "What's the matter?"

"It's Ken," Amanda said sadly. "You know--Ken Preston, in our class."

"What's wrong with Ken?"

"Well, he's so timid . . ."

"Really? I never noticed that."

Amanda continued quickly. "Well, he is, and I know he wants to ask me out, but he's too shy. Maybe you could help him."

Sarah looked confused, "What could I do?"

"You've got that special ability to make people do things with your mind. And I was thinking, you could make him ask me out. Nothing major--just something like a movie or miniature golf."

Sarah just stared at her, speechless. Her eyes were very wide.

"It would just be this one time," Amanda assured her. "I'm sure once I got him alone, he'd recover from his shyness. Would you do this for me? I mean, for him?"

Sarah shook her head. "I can't, Amanda."

"Of course you can. You've got the gift!"

"I suppose I should say, 'I won't.' Amanda, my gift is dangerous. And the only way I can deal with it is to not use it at all."

"But that's silly!" Amanda exclaimed. "It's just a date. How is that dangerous?"

"That's not the point, Amanda."

Amanda frowned. She didn't care about the point. She just wanted a date.

Sarah explained, "I used to have a fantasy about going to the Winter Olympics so I could help the figure skaters not fall. But 1 know now that doing good deeds can be just as dangerous as doing bad deeds. Because one thing could lead to another. Do you see what I mean?"

"No. Look, Sarah, if you do this for me, we could be friends. You could sit with us at lunch." Amanda knew that her table, with Britney, Sophie, Nina, Katie, and the others, was considered the best girls' table in the cafeteria. Heather-in-the-office would kill for a chance to sit at that table.

But Sarah wasn't Heather-in-the-office. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I just can't."

She sounded as if she meant it, too. Amanda rearranged her features into an expression that she hoped looked menacing. "Sarah, do you remember what my gift is?"

"Of course I do--you talked about it yesterday."

"Well, what if I took over your body and made Ken ask me out? I mean, me-Amanda, not me-you."

Sarah didn't seem the least bit frightened. "You'd have to feel sorry for me first, Amanda. And you don't, do you?"

She was right. Sarah wasn't the coolest, prettiest, or most popular girl at Meadowbrook, but there was nothing pathetic about her either. Amanda gave up on the idea of using Sarah. She'd have to find another way to reach Ken.

The others were coming in now, so she went back to her own seat. As usual, Ken came in last, and he still had that distracted expression on his face. She didn't even bother trying to catch his attention. What was she going to do? There had to be a way.

The bell rang, class started, and Madame called on Tracey to give her report. Amanda didn't bother listening--having been Tracey, she knew Tracey's story by heart. Tracey had been a happy only child, then her mother had septuplets, Tracey was ignored, she started to disappear, blah-blah-blah. Amanda spent the time doodling, trying to come up with a way to get Ken's attention. What if she went to his house, knocked on his door, and asked him to--

"Amanda?"

She looked up. "Yes, Madame?"

"Don't you have something to say to Tracey?" The teacher gazed at her sternly. "Apparently you weren't listening. Tracey was thanking you for helping her learn to assert herself."

Sarah turned to look at her with a startled expression, as if she was surprised to learn that Amanda could do something nice for someone else. Jenna was looking at her, too, and grinning--she'd known when Amanda had been inside Tracey's body because of her mind-reading skills. And she knew perfectly well that Amanda hadn't been trying to improve Tracey's life--only her own for as long as she was stuck being Tracey. But there was only one reaction Amanda was really interested in.

She looked at Ken. He was staring out the window, daydreaming, maybe, or listening to dead people, but in any case, he obviously hadn't been paying attention to Tracey's story. What a relief.

Madame was still staring at her. "Amanda?"

"Oh, yeah. Uh, that's okay. I mean, you're welcome. Whatever."

Madame called on Martin next. The boy--who looked to be at least two years younger than anyone else--spoke in a very annoying, whiny voice, which made it hard to listen to his story.

"It was a couple of years ago. I was shooting baskets in my driveway."

The thought of undersized Martin playing basketball was almost too much for Amanda to deal with, but she knew better than to show it. But neither Jenna nor Charles had her self-control, and they started laughing. Martin clenched his fists.