The Gifted Kids

"Sugar and cream

Chocolate and ice

Give these girls a treat

It'll be so nice"

Shannon and I hold hands and say this together, when we open our eyes we hear the jingle of the ice cream truck turning down the street. It worked.

"I told you it would work! We have a gift, I told you so!" Shannon danced around, happy to have finally convinced me. It actually worked.

It's 2004, summer's just changing to fall, and Shannon is the new girl in town. She's different than the other girls in this town. Instead of heart shaped necklaces and sleek, high ponytails, she's wearing a necktie with her unbrushed hair falling past her shoulders. One of the first days I knew her, she showed up with her hair dyed red with kool-aid mix. I didn't even know you could do that! My mom would never let me. She's different, and other kids laugh, but I'm intrigued. Afterall, they've started laughing at me too.

Fifth grade is hard, and it's even harder when all of your friends from the last two years won't even look at you anymore. So now I'm here, a fifth grader with no friends, and here's this girl with red streaks in her hair and baggy jeans and a necktie, and I just knew we were going to hit it off. And we did, as soon as she asked to see my hand.

"You have them too, I knew you would. Look closely, see those lines? Those deep lines that almost touch on your palm, they mean you have a gift. I have it too. We just need to find out what kind you have, I'm a protector."

I thought she was crazy. A gift? What does that mean? Like a witch? I can't be, they're scary. But she shows me again, she holds out her hand, and she pulls mine closer and compares. Yeah. Our lines are the same. She holds my hand, the shared lines just slightly crossing, and I know things are going to be different from now on.

After a couple of months of us hiding away during recess and sitting on the playground equipment after school, she tells me I'm a healer.

"All you have to do is touch the palm of your hand, think really hard about the person who's hurt or sick, and you can heal them." I try, but I'm not as sure as Shannon. She tells me it isn't going to be fixed immediately, it takes patience, so I choose to believe her, and I keep trying.

Spring of 2005, Shannon and I have been practicing for about six months. I've gotten rid of some of our headaches, she's kept the bullies away, and we've successfully called over ice cream trucks and small animals. It's nice to have this side of my life that no one else knows about. We can run through town feeling like we're in a whole different part of the universe from everyone else, and no one can stop us. It's just us.

Well, it was just us.

"Look at my hand, do I have the lines too? Please, I want powers! I want to be like Sabrina!" Amber is one of my old friends. We don't talk anymore, at least not in a friendly manner. The last time she said anything to me, it was about a pimple on my nose, and the time before that was when she teased me about having a crush. In front of that crush. Now she's acting like we're friends again? To try to be in my secret group? How does she know? Who else knows?

I walk through the halls and Shelby runs up to me, points to her palm, and says "I didn't believe you were really a witch, but I think I am too now. So what does this mean? What do we do, like cast spells?"

"What are you talking about? Who told you I'm a witch?" I say, nervous and embarrassed. These girls laugh at me every day for existing in their school. I don't want them to know about this.

"Shannon is telling everybody! She's reading all of the girls' palms outside! Even some of the boys have powers too, I think."

Oh no. I want to run away. What do I do? I start thinking back and second guessing. Did I make the headaches go away, or did they just go away? Did she make the bullies stay away, or were they afraid of us? Is everyone pretending to think we're cool now? How long until they're all whispering again?

Walking home from school that day was weird. I was usually alone, always magically finding money on the ground outside of the corner store and getting myself a snack. This time, I'm not alone, and there's no money on the ground, and now I can't help but question if that was ever real either. There are girls from all different grades running down the street to catch up to me to ask me if it's real, or if I'm making it up, or if they can be a witch too. I don't know how to respond. I tell them all to talk to Shannon. It's all Shannon's idea.

Shannon has other friends now. I walk to her house to see if she wants to play, and I see Sarah's bike out front. Sarah didn't like us before, but now they're hanging out. I go around the side of the house and I hear them talking about familiars as they climb the tree. I don't have a familiar. I walk back home, thinking about what to do.

The last couple months of the school year go by slowly. I play with the new girl, Jenna after school sometimes now. Her mom dyes her hair anytime she wants, and she wears tight shirts and layered necklaces. She feels familiar, but not quite the same as Shannon. I'm not always great with new, but she's fun. We laugh and run around the neighborhood and chase the ice cream truck until the sun goes down. Jenna says her headaches have stopped since we've started hanging out, almost like magic.