Don't Speak I Know What Your Thinking
I rolled out of bed as always starting my usual routine to look my
best at six in the morning that day. Looking up at my ceiling adorned with
glow-in-the-dark stars on a swirl of purples and blues my mom helped me
mold into a small universe and looking out the window put into my yellow
wall wondering if anything would be different in our small town of Re Vera.
The only thing that really made me want to get out of bed that day was the
fact it was my seventeenth birthday. I already saw it was going to be
another hot and dry day in April, which was just perfect considering I
liked it that way, and it was my birthday after all.
What I didn't like was what happened later on after school, but I'll
get to that soon, I have plenty of time because I am to sit in this
Malumaysian bed until my fever subsides.
I decided not to worry too much about my unruly head of brown curls as
I gazed at them in the mirror. I had no one to impress and no reason to
look stunning before gym, and back then I was certain no one could ever
think Aurielle Brooks stunning.
I ate a breakfast considering of an energy bar; no special birthday
breakfast because my parents were always busy. That's okay though because I
was never a really big breakfast person.
I kept having these strange dreams of taking baths in these crystal
blue lakes and running very fast through gold forests for what seems like
miles, and I don't do well with running very long distances (two miles and
I'm either passing out or getting sick.) Then I always end up in a large
ballroom being swept off my feet by some gorgeous man or another.
I loved those dreams, but it angered me at the time because I thought
almost for certain that in this life that would never be reality.
One blue skirt, neatly pressed blouse, and a pair of penny loafers, oh
and an avid search to find matching socks in the war-zone that is my room
"Aurielle are you almost ready I like for you to pull out for school before
I leave work to make sure you actually go!"
That was my mom, Jessica Fields, always looking out for the better of my
education. She wanted me to be some Einstein, which I'm not, then there's
the fact that she practically was. So my academically challenged state
probably didn't make her life rainbows and waterfalls.
"Give me a second mom if I get mascara in my eye we'll have to go to the
doctor's; just calm down!" I yelled back down the stairs and finished
applying my dark brown mascara that I wore on my long eyelashes. I had
rather bright blue eyes, but that was never what I had found most
fascinating about my body.
I found the fact that I didn't look anything like my parents quite
fascinating and unusually funny.
My mom Jessica Fields had wavy blonde hair, brown eyes, very slim and
petite figure, and I've already mentioned very smart. I towered almost six
inches over Jessica Fields' frame of five feet two inches. I also was a lot
stronger than my mother ever could've been because she spent all her time
in her office. She never joined me at the gym.
My dad, Matt Brooks had straight and thin black hair, narrow dark brown
eyes and I was also a good five inches taller that him. My grandmother on
my father's side was Asian, but still even if she was my grandmother I
would have some trace of Asian heritage right? Instead I got an almost
olive skin-tone instead of Asia's fair complexions, and like I said before
unruly curly brown hair, but I made the best of it I suppose.
I applied my lip-gloss and threw my hair in two pigtails at the bottom of
my head trying to minimize the frizz, but giving one last look in the
mirror that day I decided I really didn't care; nothing would ever change;
even if it was my birthday. Between my mom and dad both working almost
constantly except the fact they came home for dinner, rest, and breakfast.
(Have you noticed I wasn't really in their plans)? I couldn't possibly see
where they would've gotten me a gift, but I discovered they weren't too
worried about such things because today was my seventeenth birthday. In
fact I never really understood how I could've been born and raised under
their work schedules and parenting methods, but I suppose I turned out
I grabbed the keys to my baby, a 2000 Celica; it was not the newest, but
she treated me well, I honestly wouldn't have gotten where I am now without
her. Then, I threw my orange backpack over my shoulder rushing downstairs
so mom wouldn't start coming up after me, and believe me even though I was
officially seventeen now, the woman wouldn't give it a second thought.
"MOM YOU DID REMEMBER MY BIRTHDAY RIGHT!" I shouted; even though I knew
that was rude I also knew that she wouldn't have thought of it otherwise.
At the bottom of the stairs I saw my mother sipping coffee in her white lab
coat lazily looking through the morning paper. Dad was obviously off on
his morning run to the office, my dad was a hard worker and fit little
Chinese man, the office is almost four miles away and he usually doesn't
take the day off.
I found out he was studying a very important case for the last seventeen
"Happy birthday sweetheart," my mom said with dry emotion and just came
over to kiss my cheek.
"So um I wonder what my dearest mother got me for my birthday," I thought
that maybe she would run out and buy me something that day since she
obviously wasn't displaying anything she had already purchased.
"I suppose that mother's daughter will just have to wait until after
school," my mom said walking towards the front entrance, Jessica wasn't
too excited so I knew already even then that it either wasn't good or they
were sending me far away to the toughest boarding school for the sheer
reason of watching me flunk out. The only thing running through my mind
though was the thought they had seen my last Science test.
"I suppose that daughter's mother is trying to drive her crazy with
curiosity?" I asked raising an eyebrow, but knowing I still wouldn't get
any gifts before having to sit through a pretty boring day at San Juan High
School. The private Catholic school named for St. John where I sit and
bore myself until I think I might just keel over on the desk, but the bell
rings and I'm dragged to someone like Mr. Porter's class, damn Science
teacher who flirts with my mom.
I hated school probably because I wasn't that good with academics and was
only interested in few things they taught there; like art, music, and I
remember every now and then I enjoyed gym because we got to work out in the
presence of a sexy substitute. Talk about your motivation. Anyway when
tests were handed out I froze I didn't know how I was going to live through
when I had to re-take my ACT and OGT (because I failed with flying colors
the first round).
"Maybe, but that might give you something to actually think about during
school since you obviously don't listen to your teachers. By the way be
home on time today because you're father and I want to talk with you, and
if you don't I'll make you wait until Easter for your gifts," my mom gave
me one last warning as she climbed into her car, a nice new Mercedes she
bought with her last big pay-check. She only pointed me in the direction
of mine. Just a silent hand motion no "have a nice day" or just a simple
I had wandered what she wanted to talk to me about so urgently and
that sounded so important, but I casually dismissed it as a talk about
taking out the garbage correctly or another subject I could listen to them
rant about and then go surf the internet.
There was no use opening up her door to get the last word or anything
because I couldn't afford to be late for school again. I had been late
three times already that quarter and one more could've meant a Saturday
detention that I wouldn't have been too fond of and my mom and dad would
throw one giant bitch fit together about it.
It really didn't matter though; I wasn't there that Saturday.
Ah driving down my street, West Minster Rd, listening to Outkast and
playing my bass way too loud, I miss that sometimes. That was my favorite
part of the day. I loved to drive and I liked to be alone and think with
music blaring; it just felt right.
I liked my friends and all, but I have a couple that are so into their
looks it made me sick, one that over-obsessed about everything, especially
school work, and a nice gay guy named Jake who was my Jr. High sweetheart
before he discovered his homosexuality, but remains the sweetest guy I've
I hung out with an odd crowd then, but I can't say that the crowd I
hang out with now is any better; by our culture's standards that is.
My mom finally turned from her usual spot right behind me, on her way
downtown from our suburb and I kept going toward a large, but small
compared to public schools, San Juan. Honestly there were only five
hundred students in that whole high school!
My junior year hadn't been too great so far but I hoped my senior year
would be the calm after the storm.
Kind of sucks ass I never even started a senior year at San Juan Catholic
High School. The seniors there always looked like they were having so much
fun, and they were because they only took three courses a day and even then
weren't known for regular attendance to any of them.
When I got to school my friends were very convincing and wished me a happy
seventeenth birthday either in homeroom, in the hallways on the way to my
first class, or some of them even told me while I was doing crunches in
gym. We weren't going to celebrate until Friday, and receiving my gifts was
due for that celebration.
Sometimes I wonder now if they got me anything, and if I would've survived
Oh, I almost forgot to mention one of the most peculiar and exciting things
that happened that day, Clark Branson asked me out on a date for Saturday.
Firstly Clark Bronson was the Mayor's son, whom never noticed me for
anything more than a volleyball game or two.
The fact that the closest thing Re Vera knows to a 'Beach Boy' two
hundred seventy-three mile from the coastline, asked Aurielle Brooks out on
a date, taking into consideration he's one of the most popular seniors and
sweetest eye candy was a little strange all in itself. Blonde, built, and
tanned men always melted me; Clark also just happened to present all three
of those qualities.
In my second period Science class, that I got to after Clark carried my
books for me, I started out the forty-five minute session that bored me out
of my mind, but in the end of this particular session I came out almost
awestruck, if I had to describe it.
What started the whole affair was when Mr. Porter began his lecture on
Punted Squares, which I knew we had studied time and time before, but that
doesn't mean I remembered what exactly they were. I can still remember his
tight ass know-it-all voice echoing in my head.
"So if one of the organisms parents has blue eyes and a recessive gene for
gray eyes and the other parent of that same organism has two recessive
genes for gray eyes what are that organisms probability for having gray
eyes; in the percentage form of course?" Mr. Porter was adjusting his
glasses just to emphasize the fact that his eyes landed on me, which I knew
meant that I had to answer the question that I had no clue as to what the
"Ms. Brooks, if you would be so kind to give us the gray eye probability of
this organism's eye color by using the information given in the punted
I wanted to tell him no and to back off, but I didn't need to. I had
someone helping me that day because if I would've gazed up at what was
written on the board without it I could assure you I wouldn't have given
anything close to the correct answer.
He was smirking when he asked the question, but I was also smirking when I
realized I knew the answer. Have you ever heard a voice in the back of
your head telling you the answer to a question that your mouth needs to
speak in your own voice? Do you think I'm crazy? I suppose you never heard
of a conscience then? Just pretend conscience has a brother and you may
see wear I'm coming from.
Well, it really doesn't matter what you think because it wasn't your brain
and the point of that question was the voice in my head I heard before
answering a question wasn't the usual voice I had always heard before.
This was sweeter and almost real (because everyone knows that you don't
hear real voices of other people in your head unless you are mentally ill).
It was also a bit more masculine too.
"Oh, er. fifty percent. The organism has a fifty percent favoring that the
color of its eyes will be gray," I remember that sounded highly
sophisticated to me at the time.
Now, I realize that all the questions I have to answer in my life will
require much more sophisticated answers.
Everyone, including Mr. Porter turned his or her gaze onto me. Mr. Porter
narrowed his eyes at my very academically successful friend, Melissa, but
she was just as surprised as he was. The only difference is she was happy
and excited for me whilst my teacher was suspicious of me.
"Alright go Auri," Melissa whispered quickly when Mr. Porter had gone back
to filling in the Punted Square I had answered the question about.
I made it through the other periods of classes fine, well fine, but
exceedingly far from normal. I got every question I was called on to
answer correct. So correct, that the teachers in fact didn't even have
room to suggest or mention additional information.
On the announcements at the end of that day there was one concerning
an emergency teacher's meeting in the teacher's lounge after school. I
kept it to myself, but I have good reason to believe my sudden progress in
academics might have caused that meeting. In fact I found out later that
I went to my locker after school and grabbed the books I was going to use
on my homework that night; the homework that is probably still lying on the
desk in my room- either that or sitting in a laboratory somewhere.
"So I am invited to your get-together Friday? I wouldn't want to show up
uninvited because there still is that first meeting with your parents and
if they weren't expecting me it might not look too good when I'm at the
door?" Clark just smiled showing off his white teeth and I grinned trying
to match his level of cool when I really wanted to start shouting that he
was going to be at my house Friday. There was no way in hell I could have
turned him down. I wasn't the type to just be comfortable with a guy on a
I was all talk and no show; I always said I would meet hot guys at
clubs and go sleep with them just because they were hot and I was horny,
but the odds that that particular situation would've ever occurred were
slim. The odds that I would've slept with Clark were slim as well, but I
wouldn't admit to it at the time. Who wouldn't want to give their
virginity to a perfect young man like Clark Branson? I certainly wanted to
at the time, but one: never got the chance and two: I found out too much to
still be interested.
"Of course, I'll tell my mom and dad tonight to expect you there early.
That is if you don't mind us having a little alone time before everyone
else gets there?" Oh that had to be the most forward and flirtatious thing
I can ever remember coming out of my cherry-glossed lips to a guy like
that. I don't remember if I got a sudden burst of courage or if that voice
was having fun with my potential relationship status as well, but I
couldn't say I didn't like the kiss I got for it.
He smirked again and even though it wasn't allowed in the halls or on
school property he brushed his soft lips across mine in the sweetest kiss
he could muster with the potential of being caught at any moment. That guy
"Good then my present to you won't be spoiled by anyone else's?" Clark
asked raising his eyebrows and I can vividly remember thinking what the
hell was that about. He had just asked me out that morning and he made it
out to sound as if he had been planning to be there for my birthday
celebration for at least a month and that his present would be the best
I've ever received.
"I suppose so, but will you give me a hint as to what it is?" I asked as I
played a nice little flirtatious teasing game. I picked up my backpack as
I started my way towards the exit for the student parking lot, in which my
"Here allow me?" Clark had asked not waiting for an answer but took my
heavy school bag from my shoulders and carried it in his well-muscled arms.
"You know I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise I've been working on for
months," Clark replied walking through the door and holding it for me even
as he carried his own backpack and mine.
That's the first time it happened, the first time that I heard a second
half to a one-part sentence of someone. The part that no one human should
hear; that part that they are thinking after they uttered the words they
had chosen to say. Inside my head I heard these words:
"You know I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise I've been working on for
months," 'or loose my job giving away more information than I was ordered.
I thought this might've have been a bit harder, but you're completely
dumbstruck about this whole damn town's attitude and knowledge of you
I was looking right at him when I heard these things that sounded very
sinister and wrong. I could see that his mouth hadn't moved a bit, nor
that his expression had changed even suggesting he was thinking like that.
He still had a settled expression, and was now standing by my car.
Apparently he noticed that I took on a sort of dazed state though.
"What's the matter have you forgotten your History Project was due
tomorrow?" Clark asked almost laughing. Then there it was again:
"What's the matter have you forgotten your History Project was due
tomorrow?" 'You know Brooks that one that you'll never turn in because
you'll be taking too many tests in Washington by sixth period tomorrow.'
I had to make sure that I was hearing more than what he said in my head. I
hadn't imagined him saying that I was certain. Maybe if I asked him to
repeat the question I wouldn't hear anything about Washington, or so I
"What did you say?" I looked like I didn't hear him the first time, when
really at that moment I was ready to totally loose control and run, just
run until I passed out.
"I asked, what's the matter have you forgotten your History Project was due
tomorrow?" Clark said and he shook hid head at me like I was going crazy,
which at the time I was almost certain I was because as certain as he
repeated the question the after thoughts behind it were in my head in his
clear manly voice:
'Great first I have to ask someone I'm not really interested in out and
then I find out the bitch is partially def. Thank God Brittany is in on
the plan or I might have had to go without sex tonight.'
You know now that I reminisce back on small details, I had forgotten
my History Project, but that wasn't what I was concerned about at the time.
I would rather flunk History class all together then find out I could hear
things in my head from people I was talking to, especially things they
weren't saying aloud.
I needed to get out of that parking lot and drive home fast, well
maybe not too fast, but I needed to get away from Clark. I had to have
someone to tell me that I wasn't really hearing that and I was dehydrated
or just having some attack of anxiety worried about Clark Branson and
mine's future relationship.
"Umm, look Clark I have to go I promised my mom that I wouldn't be late
coming home from school today. So I suppose I'll see you tomorrow. If
you want my number it's in the book, good luck finishing your History
Project," I didn't wait for an answer I just hopped into the driver's seat
of my car and grabbed my backpack from him on the way. He was confused and
I didn't blame him, but I wasn't about to stay there and listen to things
in my head that I could hear in Clark's voice that didn't make any sense at
that time either. I mean would you?
I never could find anyone to tell me it wasn't real though; I only found
slight comfort in denial.