Mr. Dougherty looked up from that ancient overhead of his and wheezed out that you had to multiply by -7 in order to make the equation balanced. Several kids had started to stare at me: no one in the history of Oglethorpe high school had ever interrupted Mr. Dougherty and his comb-over. But I didn’t mind. The thing that bothered me is that no one was staring at Sandy when she was the one who was talking in the first place. Then, “Dang it! My pencil tip broke,â€? and Sandy leans down over her bag and gets out a pencil sharpener. Since no one is staring at her, like they were to me, and I can’t see her face, I come to the only conclusion I could think of: I can hear Sandy’s thoughts.
I know it sounds ridiculous but I needed to tell someone my theory, so once Mr. Dougherty realizes that class is over, I run over to Social Studies, where I know Mike is.