Calling the Shots

By Elizabeth Karre

Cherry has everything figured out: she'll live peacefully with her grandma, hang out with her BFF Tanaya, and go to cosmetology school after she graduates. If only Tanaya and her grandma would see it her way and stop fighting her about it. When a cute boy says he can give her the gift of thought planting, things start to come together. But how far can her superpower take her before she needs to speak up for herself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lerner Publishing
• Release date: Aug 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781467774055

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chapter one

He was calling me a coward. Maybe I was. I had my reasons.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He was so cute, I didn’t care what he called me.

Quit thinking about sex, he said, smiling like I was some funny little kid. Sometimes I swear y’all obsess about sex to distract yourselves from the things you should be paying attention to. Did you even listen to my question?

Umm, I said, stalling.

He kept smiling at me nicely. "You know this is just a dream, right? But not one of those dreams. So just sit here next to me, pretend I’m your big brother, and be honest. Why do you want to be able to put thoughts into people’s heads? What’s wrong with the thoughts they already got? And why don’t you just speak up if you think they’re wrong about something?"

I flopped down on the couch next to him. Really, this is just a dream? That sucks. I pulled on a hangnail.

"I wouldn’t call it just a dream, the guy said. What I’m talking about is real enough. It’s just often easiest for me to make contact with people in dreams."

I sat up straight. So you really are my guardian angel?

A funny expression crossed his face. He looked sad, maybe.

Mmm, no. Let’s not worry about what I am. I’m here to offer you a gift. But first I want to understand why, of all the amazing powers I suggested, you jumped at the idea of controlling other people’s thinking, he said.

I hugged myself. It’s like an answer to a prayer. The solution to all my problems. If I could fix how certain people thought about certain things without having to fight about it … It’s just that speaking up has only brought me trouble. I’m trying to keep my head down, but it’s like no one will leave me alone.

I sighed as I thought about everyone. Grandma, Tanaya, Ashlee, Farah’s family, teachers. So many people who wanted to tell me how things were or should be. I knew how wrong they were, but I couldn’t say much.

So I could really control what they think? How does it work? I asked.

He scrunched up his face. Maybe I didn’t say it right. It’s not exactly like that. More like putting new thoughts in. How it works? Lemme see what the last thought planter said.

He pulled out a notebook.

Thought planter? Like … plants? I pictured scratching around in my grandma’s dirty hair while she slept and pushing new, better thoughts into her head, like the sunflower seeds we planted in cups in grade school.

Mmm, well, you can use whatever metaphor you like. He pointed at the notebook. Yeah, see, this girl said it was like preparing an arrow and then … he squinted. Shooting it with the power of your mind. He smiled at me and closed the notebook, and it disappeared.

What’s that mean? I was confused.

No idea. But it can’t be that hard if other people have figured it out. He stretched his arms out on the couch and leaned his head back. Now, c’mon and tell me more about your problems and how this is the answer to your dreams. He winked at me.

chapter two

I don’t remember what exactly I told him. There are things that have happened that I don’t like to spend too much time thinking about.

I probably started with my grandma because I usually try to tell people pretty quickly about how racist she is. They’re going to see for themselves sooner or later. Probably nobody likes having a racist grandma (unless they’re racist, too), but it’s a real problem if you mostly live with your grandma and all your friends are black and every boyfriend you’ve ever had is black. Like me.

Weirdest thing about my grandma’s racism is that my aunt Essie says we’re black in our family. She’s actually my great-aunt, my grandma’s sister. Essie and Grandma fight about this all the time. You wouldn’t guess to look at any of us that there was anyone black in our family; we just look like any other white people. Aunt Essie