Farsighted (Farsighted Series) by Emlyn Chand Read Free Book Online Page B

even louder.
    Then Simmi places a hand on my shoulder from behind. “No, I’m not, Alex. I’m okay.” A wave of relief crashes into me, followed by an even bigger wave of anxiety. I just heard her die. How can she be all right?
    “Alex, calm down,” Simmi says, kneading her fingers into my collarbone. “It’s all right.”
    I should be upset, confused, mortified. But I feel okay. Simmi makes me okay.
    “C’mon, Alex. Let’s go to the guidance counselor’s office. Everything will be fine.” She uses her hold on my shoulder to lead me out of the cafeteria.
    There’s still laughter from the other students, but less now. They don’t know what’s going on. Maybe they think I’m dangerous, that I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Simmi leads me down the hall, while my brain is bombarded by scary thoughts.
    What just happened? Did it even happen? Am I going crazy? I’ve heard about people with sensory hallucinations because of a mental disorder. Am I one of them? The doctor said the measles didn’t affect any part of me except for my eyesight—was he wrong? Is my brain defective? Oh God, I hope not.
    “It’s okay, Alex,” Simmi coos like a dove.
    Simmi. What if what I experienced was real, but it hasn’t happened yet? What if I witnessed the future? Is Simmi in trouble? If she is, I’m the only one who knows. I need to protect her, to keep her safe from the future.
    As much as it unnerves me, I know I need to seek out Miss Teak. If anybody can help me, it’s her—what with all that talk of destiny, gifts, and not running away, she’s got to know something. Luckily, I know exactly where to find her.
     

Chapter 4

    The traveler has survived his first taste of hardship and now understands that, if he is to continue, he must seek out the guidance of one who knows what he does not.
     
    “Why did you become upset during lunch?” Ms. Miller, the school’s guidance counselor, asks me, tapping a box of tissues lightly on my knee.
    “I…I wasn’t upset,” I say, refusing to take the box.
    “Your friend, Simmi, says you were screaming. Is she not telling the truth?” She softly drums her fingers on the desk and waits for a confession.
    “No, I’m okay.” I repeat for the millionth time. This is a school, not a jail—why are they trying to force a confession from me?
    “Alex, we need to discuss your issues, so they don’t become worse. Please let me know what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
    I scoff and sink back into the rolly chair. I use my tiptoes to maneuver the seat back and forth like the swaying tail of a perturbed cat.
    Ms. Miller sighs and tears a piece of paper from a spiral notepad. “If you won’t talk to me, perhaps you’ll talk to a therapist.” She hands over the folded paper. “This is the address and number for Dr. Fischer. He’s a psychologist specializing in sensory disorders. Perhaps he can help.”
    “Thanks,” I mumble, stuffing the scrap into my pocket. I’ve got no intention of visiting Dr. Fischer.
    “Okay, but I still need to give your parents a call. They need to know what happened.”
    “Why? Nothing happened!” I protest. “And even if something did, this has nothing to do with my parents.”
    “Since you’re a minor, it is your parents’ business. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t inform them.” She picks up the phone on her desk and the dial tone drones loudly. “I’m going to give them Dr. Fischer’s information, too. In case you happen to misplace it.” She positions the receiver between her ear and her shoulder and dials with one hand while searching through some papers on her desk with the other.
    Following the vibrating energy source, I lean forward and click the tab on the base of the phone to disconnect the call.
    “Mr. Kosmitoras,” the counselor huffs indignantly. “You have no business…”
    “Yes, I do. And this is it. My business. Let me call them myself.” I hold out my hand and wait.
    She reluctantly hands me the