After his new PERCEPTIVE powers help him ace an exam, wins is accused of cheating…

There was a stern knock at the bedroom door and his parents entered. Wins was wrapped up in his hammock, dreading the inevitable emotional discomfort of having to be criticised and pressed about his ‘cheating’. “Wins,” Ed began, “We spoke to Miss Donnie today, she said you cheated on your maths test and then lied about it. We just can’t believe it. We raised you better than that.” Ed tried to show he was trying to help “I’ve told you before; you can always talk to us if you are unhappy. You don’t need to go straight to bad behaviour, cheating and lying.” “I didn’t cheat!” Wins said in desperation. “I just knew all the answers.”

Anne tried to calm the tone of the conversation. “No child in your class could have ‘just known all the answers’. Miss Donnie said you burst out laughing in the test then got all the answers right in record time and couldn’t explain how you’d worked it out. We know you work hard Wins, but you have to admit; maths isn’t exactly your favourite subject.”

Wins could feel the walls closing in on him now, on one side was the unmoving hard place of everyone’s misbelief that he’d cheated and lied, and on the other was the rolling rock of divulging that peculiar and exquisite experience headed his way. He was coming to realise he would have to choose whether he was going to jump out of the way of admitting to what really happened into the hard wall of other people’s misbelief, or stand his ground and admit to something that was sure to make everyone think he was a liar; who could believe what he had seen and felt? Wins could hardly believe it himself! They would think he was making up more outlandish lies to cover up his previous ones. Faced with a choice between two untenable outcomes Wins opted for neither. “I don’t want to talk about it, I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!”

Ed rushed to put out the fire of Wins frustration, but in typical form added fuel rather than water “Believe it or not we are just trying to help. You mustn’t get so frustrated, you can’t get so stressed.” Wins finally cracked “GGGGAAAAAARRRRHHH!!!! YOU ALWAYS SAY THAT, you always say ‘don’t get stressed, don’t get frustrated’ BUT YOU NEVER TELL ME HOW! How is that helping?!”

“You’re right,” Anne agreed. “We do ask a lot of you and it’s easy for us to forget you’re only eleven. You’ve started a new school, you’re becoming a teenager and there is clearly a lot going on in your life that you probably don’t want to talk about. Some people prefer to just think things through on their own…. But…” Wins knew there was always a ‘but’, “what happened today was serious; your teacher believes you cheated and whilst I don’t want to believe it you aren’t giving me any other options. Did someone make you do it? Is there some reason we don’t understand? We just want to help Wins.”

A terrible understanding came to Wins, it was as though he were at the controls of a runaway train heading towards a fork in the track, if he did nothing he would go down one path where everyone would believe he was a cheat and a liar, if he admitted what had happened he would go down the other and they would all think he was crazy too. But, there was a slim sliver of a chance that his parents might believe him if he told the truth; if anyone in the world would believe him it would be Mum and Dad. Wins paused, took a long, deep breath and tried his best to explain. “The answers came to me, I just knew them.” Ed, trying his best to keep a level head, failed. “C’mon, you can’t really expect us to believe that can you?” Wins’ emotions began to run away on their own prompting a rising panic to flicker over his face.

“LISTEN TO ME!” Wins lashed, “Please, let me try to explain.” His parents reclined and gave him reassuring nods. “I was looking at the quiz, I knew I wasn’t going to win. Then, out of nowhere, I started to see the numbers, but… they weren’t numbers. I didn’t see ‘numbers’ I saw what the numbers were… who the numbers were. It was like they were coloured shapes, but they had personalities. Like they were people, no… friends and family. It felt like I knew them personally. When I looked at the quiz I saw the page but the numbers just spun into view. It was amazing, it was as if they were my friends. The questions weren’t difficult, I could see who the number was where the x or y was in the question, whatever the question asked I didn’t need to work it out, it was obvious. Like… like, if I saw Rish- I wouldn’t have to work out who he was; I’d just know.”

Ed looked like he was about the murder somebody. “No messing around. Did one of your friends give you something to eat this morning? I’m serious now!” Wins was furious “NO! What? Wait? WHAT?! What on earth are you talking about?! You think I was sick from bad food? See, I knew you wouldn’t believe me!” “I SAW THE NUMBERS. I KNEW THE NUMBERS!” Wins threw himself over face down in his hammock and screamed in despair. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Wins.” A soft voice whispered, “I believe you.” Wins opened his eyes to see his sister standing over him. Gently, she held his hand and spoke with sympathy. “You said you ‘saw’ the numbers, is that right?” He nodded, “And you felt them, they had colour too?” Wins nodded again. “And… personalities?” He nodded tentatively. Wins wasn’t sure what to expect, Zoop was never normally this nice. She squeezed his hand, “Wins, I think you are synesthetic, I think you have synaesthesia.”  

“Synes-what-ia?” Wins asked perplexed. “Oh my days!” Ed broke down. “Is it contagious, will he be ok?” As if an expert archer, Zoop whipped her head around and shot her Dad silent with a fierce, hard glare. “NO. DAD!” Turning back to her brother she explained. “Syn-es-theese-ia is when someone’s senses are scrambled, or well, not scrambled, but mixed up. People can taste colours, or smell music, or feel words. It’s well studied in neuroscience and psychology. It’s not that rare, most people have a little bit of it and don’t realise. But what you experienced isn’t common either, its super special Wins.” He grabbed his sister, rolling into her. With a warm squeeze, the last of his tears were dried.

Their parents joined the hug. “I’m so sorry we doubted you,” they repeated one after the other. Wins relaxed his squeeze prompting everyone else to follow suit. Climbing out of his hammock he showed his Sister gratitude for the first time in as long as he could remember. “Thank you, I thought I was going crazy.” Zoop wanted to know more “Synesthesia is genetic, it’s there from the beginning. Most synaesthetes show signs of it as soon as they can tell colours apart at a young age. It’s unusual for it to appear this late. Do you feel it now?” She grabbed a black pen and some paper from the shelf, wrote a number ‘5’ and handed it to him. “No, not now. It was just in the classroom when I had the test.”

“OK…” Zoop said trying to put it all together, “All our perceptions, taste, smell, hearing, touch and vision go hand in hand with emotion. It is basically impossible to sense something without feeling something too. Maybe it only comes on when you feel stressed and worried? Was this the first time; today I mean, in the maths lesson?” Wins could see where this was going, he wasn’t looking forward to the impending car crash that would doubtless arrive at the conversation’s destination. But so far Zoop had actually been the only one willing to believe him and she was showing him a kindness he hadn’t felt from her since he was little. “I’m going to have to do it.” He thought. “I’m going to have to admit what had happened and face the consequences.”

“No, it happened last week, sort of, it wasn’t exactly the same. We were playing rugby; I was a bit nervous. All of a sudden different players and bits of the field seemed different colours to me; they didn’t look different colours though, they just felt red or blue. I know that doesn’t make sense in words but it still makes perfect sense in my head. The colours helped me win, they gave me clues about which way to run or who to tackle. And, as well as that… I kept getting prickles in my body when someone was about to tackle me so I could get out of the way. Also, when we scored it felt amazing and I heard this incredible music…”

His parents, struggling to keep up, were looking to Zoop for more explanations whilst Zoop looked at Wins with sheer astonishment.

Wins knew what he had to do. “Mum,” Wins sheepishly confessed, “I think I might have eaten your science project.”