The Experiment [RENESMEE CULLEN]

15

My childish heart is racing. My knees feel like jelly. I can sense the knots in my stomach.

He is still there - never taking his eyes off me.

He tries to speak, but I cannot hear him. I gesture to my ear. If only my walls aren't soundproof.

He struggles to understand me. So I have to act quick. I grab a sheet of paper from my stationery and scribble on it to have him meet me in the bathrooms. Having understood my message, he nods and walks away.

I quickly inform Gary that I need a bathroom break and rush out of The Isolator. This is the first time I will be meeting someone new that doesn't know about my condition. I've never had to introduce myself to anyone, simply because of everyone at the hospital who knows about me and my family.

When I reach the bathrooms, I take a deep breath before I enter. I think of a mantra to repeat in my head, but nothing comes to mind. I bit my lip. Why is this handsome stranger interested in me? What has he seen (if he has seen anything) in a monster, that has to be kept in a cage, like me?

I gulp when my eyes meet his for the second time today.

"Are you okay?", he asks with evident worry in his voice. I don't know how to answer. Here I am, in a hospital gown, with tubes inserted in me, made especially to pierce my naturally impenetrable skin (another defect of being me). So I probably don't look okay. Yet, at the same time, I am not like the children with cancer who I see every day. I will never die from an illness. At least I don't think I will.

So I shrug my arms casually.

He tries to tuck some of his hair behind his ear, in a way his sister possibly can. But his hair is too short and he looks funny while trying to do so. And then he extends that same hand. "I'm Jacob."

Handshaking. I've seen it. My grandpa often shakes his colleagues' hands, or when he has to meet new people.

I reach out to shake Jacob's hand. His name seems to fit him. I should have known his name was something like that.

The moment my skin makes contact with his, Jacob steps back with a shock. And I realize I have used my secret gift. You see, when my skin makes contact with someone else's, I happen to let them in my mind. They can see anything (or anyone) I am thinking of. Mom says it has been handy when I've been younger. I remember waking up and her having pressed my palm to her face to watch my dreams. I don't let her do that anymore. I am too old for that.

His eyes widen like he is staring at a stack of pancakes. He has seen everything I've thought of.

"Woah!", he lets out an exclaim. Like the first time he saw me, he isn't looking at me with disgust or with pity.

What I see in his eyes is curiosity instead. I am not surprised. I bet he has never met any hybrids in his life. For instance, I don't care that he has seen anything. I forget about my grandfather's instructions. I feel like everybody else. Until Jacob asks:

"Can you do that again?"

I wish I can say no. But my heart is stronger than my mind. And I obey.

I barely touch his forehead with my fingertips and try not to freak out. What can I show him? That I am excited that I am making my first friend who doesn't know about my peculiarities? That would be false. He has seen my ability.

So I concentrate on showing him a pretty picture instead. I have my eyes closed, but I bet in his eyes is dancing wonder.

I shouldn't be doing this. But deep inside, I know there's rebellion running in my blood.