Free Crossed Out by Kim Baccellia Page B

gruesome bloody cloth Dr. Anthony had shown me at our last meeting. I hoped he wouldn’t share that secret with Dylan.
    “What’s going on here?” Dylan asked.
    Dr. Anthony took his glasses off and wiped them. He glanced sideways at me. “Have you told him?”
    “Told me what?” Dylan plopped into an oversized chair.
    I stared at the counselor, silently pleading for help. I didn’t know what to say or where to begin. How do you tell a friend you’ve had since childhood that you do things with dead people – without him thinking you’re crazy?
    Dr. Anthony put his glasses back on and limped to his cushioned chair. “Yes, Stephanie.” He sat down. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”
    I resisted the urge to kick his smug body out of his chair. Not because it was so fifth grade, but if I had even the remotest chance of Dylan believing me, I needed the counselor’s support.
    Ignoring my fear of ridicule, I reached for the glass candy jar on the counselor’s table and grabbed five Tootsie Rolls.
    My hand trembled. Two chocolates fell. “I saw another spirit.”
    Dylan’s eyes widened. “Spirit?”
    “Yes, Dylan I see spirits. You know, ghosts, dead people?”
    “So it wasn’t my imagination back at the airbase?” Dylan gave a low whistle. “I really did see a ghost.”
    “Yes.” I smiled. “Welcome to my life.”
    Dylan turned to the counselor. “And you knew about this?”
    Dr. Anthony held up his hand up, cutting Dylan off. He turned to me. “This wasn’t the same spirit you saw at Hillary’s?”
    “No, someone else.” I popped one of the chocolates in my mouth. “What … I thought you’d already know?”
    The counselor ignored my sarcasm. “What else happened?”
    “Well, I saw the place, made my cross and went there. But....”
    “Whoa.” Dylan jumped up. “You lost me. First you say you see spirits.”
    I nodded in agreement.
    “Then you make crosses and go....” He looked at Dr. Anthony. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
    Dr. Anthony drummed his finger together. “Dylan, what Stephanie says is true.”
    Dylan’s eyes widened. “No way.”
    “Yeah, way,” I said.
    Dylan gave me a withering stare.
    “But before you judge her,” Dr. Anthony continued. “I think you need to share something with her too.”
    “Wait a minute here.” Dylan got up. “I’m not the one getting up at the crack of dawn to chase after ghosts.”
    “Oh, really.” Dr. Anthony’s voice stayed calm. “Didn’t you just say you saw a spirit too?”
    “Well – yeah – I guess. But if you tell anyone else, I’ll deny it. My mom would really kill me if she knew I snuck out.”
    “The same way you deny what you see every day?” The counselor asked.
    What did he just say? It was my turn to stare.
    “You see stuff too, Dylan?” I couldn’t believe it! All the time I was worried he wouldn’t believe my gift, he was seeing things too. Talk about ironic!
    Dylan scuffed his shoes on the carpet and glared at Dr. Anthony. “How did you know?” he muttered. “You don’t even know me.”
    “Wait a minute here.” I looked at Dylan then the counselor. “You’re saying Dylan shares our gift?”
    “Dylan has the ability to see auras.” Dr. Anthony said. “This light reveals a person’s character, right Dylan?”
    Dylan glared at him. “Why do you ask?”
    “Is that your gift, Dylan?” I couldn’t understand why he was so pissed. It wasn’t as if his gift meant he had to go hiding and be secretive. Or was it?
    A memory came back to me of the day Dylan’s family sent his grandmother to the mental hospital. How one day she’d been at church, sharing her own experiences during Sunday School, and the  next she’d been taken away. I could still remember Dylan’s mother’s horrified reaction.
    “Dylan. Is that what your Grandma Kate can do?”
    Dylan folded his arms and took a step backwards. “I don’t want to talk about it. And even if I did see lights or whatever, no