Without warning, he reached out and trailed a finger down the side of my face. Oh, man, but the Aidan effect was in full force — I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and my legs felt like Jell-O. How was it possible that I was scared of him and attracted to him, all at once?
Perhaps I should be afraid of you instead, he said, his voice a whisper in my mind. His lips hadn’t moved, and yet I’d heard him, as clear as could be, the words accompanied by a weird electrical buzz in my head.
Fear settled in the pit of my stomach, and yet I wanted to kiss those pale lips of his. And the worst part? He knew.
“I have to get back to the dorm,” I blurted out.
“I’ll walk you,” he said, and I let out my breath in a rush.
Without another word, I followed him.
Forget it,” I said, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m never going to get the hang of it.”
My new “psychic coach” just sighed. Her name was Sandra and she showed up for our appointment wearing a blue Juicy tracksuit, as if she were a personal trainer or something. And she was way too perky, besides. Mrs. Girard told me that Sandra was a gifted mind reader, and I suppose she was, considering how easily she was reading mine no matter how hard I tried to stop her. I really was trying, but it was no use.
“Come on, Violet. One more try. You can do this, if you’d just concentrate. Visualize a wall, a barrier of some sort. Something thick and impenetrable. Do you see it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, doing everything she’d told me to do. Concentrate. Focus. Think in images, not words. A wall. A stone wall, around my mind. It was there; I could see it in my mind’s eye, like the Great Wall of China, encircling my brain. My stomach grumbled, and all I could think about was lunch.
“A tuna salad sandwich and a Diet Coke,” Sandra said, sounding exasperated. “Okay, let’s call it a day.”
I nodded, desperate to escape the confines of my room. It was Saturday, after all. My first Saturday at Winterhaven, and I was exhausted. It had been a long week of tough lectures and awkward “getting to know the new kid” moments. I was still behind in most of my classes, even though Aidan had met with me each day after sixth period and patiently gone over everything I’d missed. Though I’d never admit it, those tutoring sessions had quickly become the highlight of my week.
Anyway, right now I just wanted to eat some lunch, take a nap, and maybe spend an hour or so in the gym, working on my parry.
“We’ll try again next week,” Sandra said.
I looked up, surprised to see her still standing there by the door. “Sure. Same time?” I asked.
“Same time. And practice, okay? You didn’t learn those fencing moves in one day, did you?”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Good point. Okay, I’ll practice.”
“Great. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Wait!” I called out, just as she reached for the door. I had to know. “How close do you have to be to read my mind? I mean, can you do it from across campus?”
The idea of Aidan reading my mind whenever he wanted— from wherever he happened to be — made me want to heave, considering how often I was thinking about him. Way more than I should be.
She turned back toward me with a grin. “Don’t worry. He’d — I mean, I’d have to be pretty close by, at least within sight of you. A physical wall might not stop me if you were just on the other side of it, but even so, it would take some effort.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, my cheeks burning.
“Anytime. Bye!” She opened the door and trotted out, her blond ponytail swinging behind her. Way too perky.
I let out a sigh, then walked to the window and looked down at the lawn below. If I moved fast, I might catch up with Cece and the rest of them in the quad before they headed over to the dining hall. The sky was clear and blue and students milled about in short sleeves. I pressed my hand against the glass, surprised at the warmth. It felt more like late August than early October, not that I was complaining.
I glanced down at my clothes, a black short-sleeved cable-knit sweater and jeans, and shrugged. Just a little lip gloss and I was ready to go.
Sitting down at my desk, I reached for the shiny pink tube and took off the cap. Just as I touched it to my lips, my vision began to tunnel, the eerie hum in my head growing louder and louder. The tube of gloss clattered to the desk. No, not again.
But I was gone, no longer in my cozy little dorm room, but somewhere outside instead.
Back in Manhattan, that same dark, foggy street as before. Following Aidan. He turned down a dark alley, and I could sense the danger. I called out his name, just as before, and this time I saw him turn toward me — and there was blood on his face, his mouth. I screamed, an earpiercing scream, terrified that he was hurt, that.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I was back at my desk, staring at my own ashen face in the mirror above my desk.
“No,” I said aloud, surprised to find my voice hoarse, my throat tight and scratchy. As if I’d really screamed in terror, and I realized that maybe I had. Thank God no one had been around to witness it.
Two visions in such a short time — and both of them about Aidan. It was odd. Usually my visions were months apart, and they always — alwaysinvolved people I knew well, people I really cared about. Which mostly limited my visions to my dad, Patsy, Gran, Lupe, and Whitney.
When I was younger I’d do really stupid things, like attempt to warn them. “Don’t ride your bike anymore,” I told Whitney once, trying not to cry.
She was going to fall and break her wrist. I didn’t know when, just knew it was going to happen at some point. She’d ignored me, of course, and broken her wrist two weeks later.
It weirded people out when I tried to warn them about stuff. Not because they truly believed that I knew things before they happened, but because it made me seem like a freak — a crazy, hysterical freak — even when my predictions came true. People were uncomfortable with things they didn’t understand, and no one understood me. So I’d learned to keep my mouth shut — most of the time, at least. Until my dad.
Forget lunch, I had to get over to the gym now. It was the only way I knew to clear my head, to push away the unpleasant thoughts and memories and concentrate on the foil instead.
In minutes I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail. Rising on unsteady legs, I grabbed my bag and dashed out. Only when I’d gotten halfway down the hall did I realize I hadn’t even locked the door, and I ran back and fumbled with the key until I heard the bolt click into place.
Hurrying through the East Hall lounge, I kept my head down, focusing on the floor as I made my way past the tables and chairs toward the far side of the room. Please don’t let me run into anyone I know, I thought, increasing my pace. The last thing I wanted was to have to stop and chat. But just when I thought I’d made it through safely, I heard someone call out my name. A hand reached for my shoulder and I spun around, surprised to find Aidan standing there.
“We need to talk,” he said.
A shudder ran through me. “Not right now.”
“Yes, right now. Come on, follow me,” he commanded, and I didn’t even think to refuse. Instead I simply followed him, down a flight of stairs and into a long hallway.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To a study room. Here, come on.” He opened a door to our right, and I followed him inside. The light flickered on, humming noisily, and it occurred to me that he hadn’t even touched the switch.
“How did you—”
“What happened?” he asked brusquely, interrupting me.
“What do you mean, what happened?”
“I sensed your fear, heard you call out my name.”
“I. no, I didn’t.” Stone wall, I told myself. Great Wall of China, around my thoughts.
“The Great Wall of China isn’t going to do it, Violet. Come on, tell me what happened.”
Feeling slightly woozy, I dropped my bag to the floor beside my feet. No way was I telling him what I’d seen — not till I had more to go on. The vision had been too quick, too vague. I needed specifics before I could consider warning him. “Why were you listening to my thoughts?” I finally asked.