The Accidental Siren

4.7 Camera Tests

“You actually think I have superpowers?” Mara's face glowed amber in the light of a dying prayer candle. The cavern's pipes fell to the blackness of my peripherals; for all I knew, we were the lone survivors of the apocalypse.

“Think about it,” I said. “How do you explain all those boys outside your window? You saw them, right?”

“Duh. Every time I looked out my window there were more.”

“They even went back to steal your stuff! And what about that psycho woman? She took you out of school and never let you out of the house. That's not normal.”

“Yeah...”

“Plus, I've known those bullies since preschool and they've always been jerks--'specially Danny--but I've never seen them like that. They were totally nuts.”

“You think I made them like that?”

“Not on purpose. I just think that boys really, really like you when they see you. And when you sing...”

“When I sing... what?”

I shrugged. I didn't intend to finish the thought. “It's different somehow. Special. Did you see the way that Danny's uncle looked at you? Who does that?”

“Lots of guys do that.”

“Maybe to you. But not to other girls.”

Mara's pupils had consumed all but a sliver of her irises. She truly didn't understand.

“I think we should do some experiments,” I said.

“To test my superpowers?”

“But only if you want to.”

Mara considered the idea. “Kinda like a comic book.”

“Totally.”

She nodded and grinned. “Let's do it.”

*  *  *

“I call your house three times a day and your sister tells me you're too busy to talk. Now you need help with a science project and you come crawlin' back. You think I'm that easy, James Parker?” Whit spun his chair to face Mara. “What's a cute girl like you doin' with this doofus? You can do better. I'm Whitney, by the way. Whitney Morris Conrad the Third. And welcome to my bedroom.” He held out his hand.

Mara took it. She was smiling.

This is eaxactly what I was afraid of.

“Dude,” I said, “I've been super busy--”

“Don't 'dude' me. And I don't want your excuses. Mom thinks we're not friends anymore. I told her you dumped a cripple for a silly girl.” To Mara, “No offense, darling.”

She giggled. Giggled!

Whit rolled to his desk and pointed up to shelves that displayed three rows of ribbons and trophies. “Top shelf is spelling bees, geography bees and Quiz Bowl,” he said. “Middle shelf is science fairs. Bottom shelf is miscellaneous: Odyssey of the Mind, Science Olympiad... crap like that.”

“Whoa,” Mara said.

I rolled my eyes.

A string drooped from one end of the shelf to the other, displaying an unbroken row of Pizza Hut Book-it pins with five stars each. Whit's desktop was laid out like a grid with writing utensils, measuring tools, stationary, and a bin of cubbies with red labels. A computer monitor dominated the center of the desk with cords leading to a blocky tower at our feet.