Free OCDaniel by Wesley King Page A

said.
    She jumped. “Hey,” she replied. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
    â€œThen why did you wait?”
    â€œIt’s called faith,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what you think. Only what you do.”
    I paused. “Where’s your TA? And mom?”
    â€œI told Miss Lecky my mom was picking me up as usual, and I told my mom that I was staying after school for some extra work with my TA,” she said. “Now, we need a headquarters.”
    I wrung my hands together. “Don’t you, like . . . not talk?”
    She smiled. She had a warm smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
    â€œNot to normal people. Thankfully, you aren’t normal.”
    â€œThanks . . . ,” I said. “Uh . . . headquarters. We could use my house, I guess.”
    â€œGood. You can tell your mother I’m your girlfriend. I would prefer that this investigation remain a secret.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause my mother and her boyfriend have asked that I not pursue the investigation. Because my father left a note saying not to follow him. And because I think he was murdered by my mother’s boyfriend.”
    My eyes widened. “Murdered?”
    â€œBut of course I hope I am wrong,” she said. “Shall we?”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Follow me.”
    â€œI know where you live,” she said.
    I rubbed my forehead again. “Naturally. I guess I’ll follow you, then.”
    She looked at me seriously. “Teamwork, Daniel. We will walk beside each other.”
    With that, she turned and walked outside, and I hurried to catch up.
    Sara walked with purpose. She was an entirely different girl all of a sudden: focused and sharp. I had to half-walk, half-jog to keep up as we marched down the windswept October streets toward my house.
    â€œYou must have questions,” she said.
    â€œI don’t even know where to start.”
    She turned and smiled. “From the beginning.”
    â€œOkay,” I said slowly. “Why do you think I’m a Star Child?”
    She laughed, loudly enough that I jumped. It was like an explosion of pent-up energy.
    â€œI suppose that is a good place to start,” she said. “Are you different, Daniel Leigh?”
    I thought about that for a moment. Of course I was different; most kids weren’t trying to keep themselves alive by flicking light switches and avoiding numbers. But I didn’t want to get into that.
    â€œI mean . . . I think I’m pretty normal.”
    She smiled again, almost patronizing. “Right. You’re very smart as well, correct?”
    â€œI guess . . .”
    â€œYou were in the Gifted Program,” she said. “I would guess you have never had a grade below an A, have you?”
    â€œIn math.”
    She nodded. “You’re a wordsmith. A poet. A lost soul. You write when no one is looking, and you pretend to fit in with the other kids, but you don’t. You’re also a toucher. Your mind is different.”
    I was trying to keep up, but it was nearly impossible. “What about you?”
    She shrugged. “I have a photographic memory. Ask me a number on the periodic table.”
    â€œTwenty-nine.”
    â€œCu. Copper. A transition metal and bordered by nickel and zinc. I can recite pi to a hundred numbers. I know that the first day I ever saw you, you were walking down the hallway when you were seven years old. You were wearing track pants and a shirt with the Star Wars logo on it. You had a bit of a mullet, and a lot of freckles. I remember your eyes. . . . They were very blue. I looked at you, but you didn’t notice. I thought you seemed familiar, but I know now that it’s because you’re a Star Child like me.”
    I just walked along beside her as she spoke, feeling the tingles running along my body like those soft fingertips. She had a way of