"Cassandra?" Aidan asked. His eyes were dark with concern. "What's wrong? Why did you run out of class like that?"
She had almost revealed her power to him last night. And yet he had reassured her. Told her that trying to be good was just as important as actually being good, if not more.
She wanted to believe that.
But she stared at his numberless head. She thought about his smile. His relentless happiness.
Did she want to burden him with this disgusting fact about herself?
God, or whoever, had truly been cruel in giving it to her, of all people. She wasn't particularly "sexual" at all. It would've made more sense for this power to be given to some horny sleazeball. Not her.
If she told him, would she be making herself synonymous with "sex" itself? How else would he be able to think of her?
"Mrs. Nelson called me in—to talk to me. A boy—Kyle—he laminated pictures of a bunch of girls and came on them while taking videos or something. Including me. I was one of the girls."
Aidan's face twisted with an initial impulse to laugh that was quickly suppressed by dark anger as he realized that she wasn't joking.
"I'll kill him," he said.
"That's not important. It doesn't matter. I don't care about that. The thing is—when Mrs. Nelson brought out the photocopies…"
"They had photocopies?"
"Listen! They were blurry… but I could… reach into them and see."
"See? See what?"
"See the last time that that person… meaning me… and him… meaning Kyle… had sex. But it was never. For both of us. We both still don't have numbers. So, really, in the grand scheme of everything, it doesn't count. It doesn't matter. But I can't hide it anymore. I need you to know."
Aidan's expression was impossible to describe.
She looked at him. The person she trusted more than anyone else.
And she told him the truth.
"I have a power. I've had it all my life. I can see the last time someone has had sex. It's a date and time floating over their head. But I can't control it or turn it off. I don't use it on purpose. It's been horrible for me. It's been a nightmare. I've thought about just killing myself to make it stop. But I can't. My whole life—ever since I was a little kid, even—I've seen it."
He was staring at her hard.
"You're serious?"
"Yes. Please believe me."
"This is what you were talking about last night? The story you were working on?"
"Yes. I'm sorry I lied to you. It wasn't a story. It's real."
He lowered his gaze. Was his face red?
"Can you see everyone?"
"Yes."
"Even me?"
Her chest hurt.
"Yes," she said. "I can see you. I'm sorry."
He swallowed. "Then what am I?"
She hesitated. But why hesitate any longer?
"You don't have any numbers. You're just like me. I guess I should explain that, too—I can see my own. My own lack of numbers."
He chuckled a bit. "I guess it's obvious looking at me though that I'm a virgin. Not exactly the most convincing proof."
That word "proof" stabbed her in the stomach. Would she have to prove it to him after all? It made sense to not take such a ridiculous concept at face value. But still she had somehow hoped he might.
"You tell me all the time that I'm smart and good. Even when I don't believe it myself. So—at least for right now, at least until I can think of a way to prove it to you—believe that I'm still smart enough to not be deluded and still good enough to not lie to you."
Aidan nodded. "Okay. For now, I'll believe you."
"For now?"
He smiled. "I'm a logical person. I can't just blindly believe you forever, can I? But, just for now, for a while, I can."
Then she hugged him. She had never done this before. They were friends, so it would have been normal to hug once in a while, but she had still maintained that barrier of not rushing into intimate touch. On some level, she was careful about the gender difference between them. It must be strange for a teenage boy to be suddenly hugged by a girl, after all, so she didn't want to push it.
From an argumentative perspective, she was trying to strengthen her claim. Believe me now. Believe me now that I'm doing something I've never done before. Feel my entire body pressed against yours and understand that what I'm telling you is everything about myself.
"Thank you," she said against him.
"You're welcome," he said. As they separated, a confused look passed over his face again. "But—you said you've always had this power. Why are you only just telling me now?"
"You never would have believed me. You probably still, on some level, don't believe me."
"But still… what made you overcome that now? What pushed you to tell me?"
"The other day, I was in Julian's VR game thing. Before, I've only ever been able to see the numbers of real people standing in front of me. But I saw numbers over the virtual characters. Over these 3D models. And again in class, during the movie, I saw numbers over the heads of the characters. I think this power, whatever it is, is getting stronger. I was never able to control it before. But I can something in my head now, like a tendon or a muscle, and if I push it… I can read into characters, into photocopies… and I don't know how far it goes. So I had to tell someone. And you're the only one I can."
She could see Aidan's logical brain working again and failing to piece any of this into a parsable, meaningful system.
"You say you can just see numbers, or"--he paused, somewhat self-consciously—"the lack of numbers over people's heads. But how do you know what that represents? How do you know it means sex?"
"It's hard to explain. But living with it for eighteen years, from all the hints I've been able to piece together, that's the only thing it could be. Especially being around a couple like Julian and Julianna all the time—I'm surprised they haven't just done it in front of me yet." She laughed darkly.
"But did you know before you met them?"
"Yes. Ever since I was twelve."
"What happened when you were twelve?"
"I was in the city—and this man almost—did something to me, I guess. And I was able to see, where I hadn't ever seen them before, numbers about to be formed over my own head—and that's when I knew for sure."
Aidan hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago. I'm over it now, seriously. But thank you." She laughed with relief. "You don't know how good it feels to tell you this! Seeing people's secrets over their heads all the time is so draining, so exhausting, so horrible—and even feeling like I can control it slightly more than before didn't make me feel any less alone."
"I'm here," he said. "I promise."
"Well, thanks." She dried her eyes with her sleeve. Through the crystal of her tears, she felt the muscle twitch again.
When she pushed it this time, she saw something she had never seen before.
Numbers.
Over Aidan's head.
But not a date and time in the past.
May 9th.
A week from now.
Prom night.
If Cassandra had been paying closer attention, she would have heard that sound of sneakers turning away on the linoleum floor.
Because, once she had caught her breath, pressed against the lockers, Julianna was trying to comprehend what she had just overheard.