Sarah Stevenson - Underneath (Sarah Jamila Stevenson)

“Fine,” Cody says, “but The Man had nothing to do with this.” He quickly enters a URL into the browser, too fast for me to read it before the page pops up.

When I see what the graphic at the top of the page says, I feel like I’m going to spew cheese balls all over the table.

“ Voice of the Underground ,” Cody says. “AKA me.”

“Oh, hilarious.” Mikaela reaches out to scroll down the page, stroking one black-painted fingernail along the touch screen.

“Hang on a sec—let me see that,” I say, finally finding my voice. I’m thinking of Elisa crying in the bathroom earlier and what Cassie said, and I have a nasty feeling of dread. I lean closer and read the top blog post.

DESPERATE FUTURE HOUSEWIVES AT C.V.H.S.! screams the headline. Who’s in bed with who? It’s not who you think it is. Did C.P. get with D.W. at a secret party? Is E.N.’s boy toy going to be suicidally depressed when he finds out she’s been snogging somebody else? Or is he going to kick some ass?

GOTHS GONE WILD. C.J.D. last seen at Palmwood Park with his shirt off, blinding thousands of innocent bystanders. It goes on for a while, making fun of some kids I barely know who apparently did something to get on Cody’s bad side, but I’m hung up on the first paragraph.

C.P. Cassie Parker. E.N. Elisa Nguyen.

This is horrible. It’s really, really mean and petty.

And there’s only one way Cody could have been able to write this stuff. He wouldn’t even have known any of it if it hadn’t been for me. Me and my stupid underhearing.

I’m a terrible person.

So much for trying to use underhearing to do good. Instead, I’ve just ruined people’s lives.

Correction: Cody has ruined people’s lives.

But I helped.

Cody is sitting there beaming like he’s a little kid who just drew a picture for his mommy. My stomach churns, and it’s not from the whiskey and Coke I barely touched.

“Cody … ” I swallow, hard. “This is kind of mean.”

“This is need-to-know information,” Cody says, still grinning. “Anyway, I thought you hated them. Why do you care?”

“Elisa was crying ,” I tell him. I lean away from him, my back rigid. “That’s why I took so long in the bathroom earlier.”

“So? It’s just payback for all those times they were bitchy to you.”

“You know, you’re allowed to be angry at them,” Mikaela says. “You can’t just hold it in forever. Let it out. Let it go. ” She sweeps one arm out, a little drunkenly. I glare at both of them.

“I thought you’d be grateful.” Cody isn’t smiling anymore. He’s starting to look annoyed.

“Grateful? You are really … ” Clueless? Missing the point? Nothing seems adequate to describe what I’m feeling right now. I remember what Cassie said and I start wondering if I’m on the blog somewhere, revealed as some kind of magical psychic know-it-all. My face gets hot and I dig my fingers into my palms.

And he has the nerve to look pissed.

I force myself to calm down enough to talk.

“I don’t need revenge, okay? I just don’t want to talk to them anymore.” Actually, if I’m honest with myself, the only person I don’t want to see anymore is Cassie. Nobody else did anything all that bad. That’s what makes this so wrong. That, and the fact that Cody went behind my back again, used my underhearing for his own personal gain.

“Not only that, it was a private conversation. I told you what I’d heard in confidence . It wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge.” My voice trembles, but I’m too upset to care. “I don’t care if they’re not my friends. It’s a matter of ethics.”

Mikaela snorts. “Ethics? It’s a blog. And what about free speech? Plus, it’s just people’s initials. It could be anyone.”

“Come on, like people can’t guess,” I tell her. “And the URL was sent out to the whole school.”

Cody looks surprised for a second, then starts laughing. “I didn’t do that. But hey, I guess somebody thinks it’s of interest to the general public.”

Mikaela looks a little worried. “So the whole school knows now?” She smacks Cody on the top of the head.

“Ow! Fuck, what was that for?”

“ Dumb ass,” Mikaela says. “For putting me on there, that’s what it’s for. I don’t need two thousand people calling me ‘a valued member of the Psychic Friends Network.’” But she’s smiling a little, too. It’s hard to know whether she’s really even mad.

“You didn’t talk about me , did you?” I look at him coldly.

“I didn’t mention you by name, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he says. “Not even by initials. I said … let’s see … ‘Former JV swim hottie seen cavorting with men in black.’ And I didn’t say a thing about your power. I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone. I think it’s awesome, what you can do.”

Cody gives me a crooked smile. For a second, I almost believe him.

Then I come crashing down to earth again. He’s still trying to flatter me, still trying to convince me that he cares. Trying to downplay the fact that he’s using me.

But he doesn’t understand what it’s like to be able to do this. He doesn’t understand how much just the smallest amount of knowledge can hurt people.

“I mean it,” Cody says, still looking right at me. “You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

I look down, running one hand over the velvety, cream-colored surface of the couch cushion. I want to believe him. But his words make me feel sick.

“Sunny, just take a compliment, why don’t you?” Mikaela throws a pretzel at me.

“You know, you could really help people,” Cody says.

I remember the first time I ever told Mikaela about my underhearing, how she said it could be a real gift.

“I know,” I whisper. And I do. But.

“You could help me again.” His voice is low and urgent, his eyes intense. For a moment, it’s like Mikaela’s not even in the room, like it’s just the two of us.

There’s a twinge in my chest.

“It’s my parents, of course,” he says, answering a question I didn’t ask. “After what you found out, I asked them what was up. They said if I don’t do everything right this time … ” He trails off, picks up the remote control and turns it over and over in his hands. His face is set and angry. Suddenly, he draws his arm back and flings the remote across the room. It ricochets off the immaculate beige wall, chipping the paint, and falls to the floor. My whole body tenses up.

Mikaela just leans her head back against the couch and stares at the ceiling. “I can’t believe them,” she says. “They cannot send you to boarding school. That’s freakin’ ridiculous. What is this, the nineteenth century?”

Cody slumps back on the couch. Despite everything, I feel sorry for him.

“I hate asking this,” he says. “But you—I think you can do this.”

“Do what?” I look up at him from under my hair, suddenly nervous.

He pauses, glances at Mikaela, then looks back at me. “I was thinking that if your—uh, power—if it goes in one direction, maybe it goes in the other direction, right?”

I frown. “Like … what? Other people reading my thoughts?” I’m not sure what Cody is getting at. “They’re already reading my thoughts. You just published them on a web page for all the world to see.”

“Well,” he says, “I guess I mean—what I—I need you, Sunny.” His voice is pleading now. “I need you to … do something to my parents. Make them stop. I don’t want to get sent off. If I went to military school—fuck.” He swears some more, takes a long swig of his drink. “I can’t go to military school.”