Page 3 of Bear With Me

I give him a look that says to mind his own business before Nonna tries to play referee. “Of course. You both must be exhausted. Dinner won’t be ready for a couple hours yet.”

“This used to be your mom’s room,” Nonna says from the doorway a few minutes later as I take a few tentative steps forward. Her admission causes ice to form in my chest and I pause to look around.

Unlike my room in Florida, this one looks as though it’s been preserved since my mom left. The cream walls and white furniture are accented with pastel pink drapes and bedding. Nothing like my own, more earthy style. I can almost picture her sitting at the desk, her face brightened with a smile.

I tear away from that image and force myself to look around the rest of the room. The Jack and Jill bath next to the walk-in closet leads to Sam’s room, where he’s already sprawled across his own bed. He doesn’t look up when I enter and I figure he’s already passed out.

I return to my room and smile hesitantly at Nonna. “Thank you again for letting us stay. And, you know, for school.”

Nonna nods, a movement so reminiscent of my mother it causes my chest to squeeze. “We stick together in this town, sweetie. You’ll learn to love it.”

“Maybe.” I turn to unpack my bags.

“You know,” comes her hesitant voice over my shoulder. “If you ever want to…talk about anything. I’m here. I know we haven’t been close, but I hope this opportunity will change that. I would like to get to know you and your brother.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, but manage to smile. “Sure, that would be great.”

She opens her mouth like she wants to say something and then closes it again. She looks around the room, her eyes lingering like mine had, probably imaging Mom. “I know you’re going to have questions. About... things. You can come to me. If you need someone to talk to, I mean.”

My heart thuds loudly in my chest. A million questions begging answers war in my mind and somehow constrict like a tangle of snakes in my throat. The moment passes and she nods regally and leaves.

The fight drains from me and my feet buckle. I slump to the bed as Sam’s snores echo from the next room.

So she does know about my gift.

* * *

Heat prickles the hairs at the back of my neck—and not in a pleasant warm-afternoon kind of way. In the uncomfortable, I-feel-completely-out-of-place kind of way. The voices of the librarian and her male friend are low with intimacy. One that makes my insides burn with jealousy and annoyance.

I’d kill for some kind of interruption at this point, but it’s summer term, so the library is as empty as a tomb. She lets out a low laugh and my shoulders raise up in an attempt to block out the seduction scene going on behind me.

For the first time since I gained theseabilities, I’m happy for the constant hum of voices coming from layer after layer of psychic babble from the tabletop and the mouse I’m using to browse through available summer classes.

When I realized my perfect dreams had been shot, I pretty much gave up the idea of ever getting the kind of life I wanted. Sounds dramatic, but it was easier than focusing on what was really going on. Now that I’m actually here, I feel that familiar excitement of possibilities thrumming just beneath my skin. Or maybe that’s the dregs of memories I’m absorbing from the keyboard. Either way, as I shuffle through the registration process, a seed of hope takes root in my chest.

The woman gasps behind me and I do my best to ignore as I worry over whether or not to push off my one and only math class until next semester. I don’t want to overload myself, but what the hell. I have nothing better to do, so I add it to my list with the journalism elective and general biology.

While the list is printing for my records, I gather my purse and cell up from the desk. A weight eases from my chest now that I’ve got some sort of goals to work toward. Something to keep me busy.

I’m so distracted by the thought of a new start that I accidentally let my fingers brush the woman’s as I hand her the registration form. When our fingers make contact, I can’t help my sudden gasp. In an instant it goes from mid-afternoon to evening. The low moans I’d been hearing increase in volume as the scene before me materializes.

The couple doesn’t notice me, which is probably a good thing considering how wrapped up in each other they are. My breath catches in my throat and a flush spreads over my body. He’s got her pinned against the counter, his hands delving beneath the material of her shirt.

She moans and so do I, and damn if I can’t feel his fingers undoing the claps of my own bra. I go from zero to sixty in a couple seconds flat, bordering on an edge of a heatwave. I pull my hand back to grip something, anything, and the vision fades away, leaving me gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

I manage to get myself under control, barely, and look up to find the two of them looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Caught between arousal and embarrassment, I squeak out a “Thank you” and then get the hell out of there.

The fresh air does little to soothe the burn on my cheeks. I imagine that every person can feel the pulse beating low in my stomach. That they can see it on my face. There isn’t enough acreage on this lush campus to put enough distance between me and that scene.

I stumble upon a little café in the center of campus and I order up a French vanilla cappuccino in the hopes that it will erase the pounding behind my eyes. Around me students are paired off into groups already and a haunting sense of loneliness grows in my stomach.

With the scene I just witnessed fresh in my mind, I take extra care to keep my hands from brushing against anyone else. The last thing I need is someone else’s sex life taking up residence in my head. It’s a sad, visceral reminder that I have no sex life of my own. Kind of hard to get down and dirty when you can hear every thought from a simple touch.

I weave through the crowd to an empty bistro table and plop down with a sound of relief. With registration finished, I finally have some control back in my life. I may not understand what’s happening to me or where I go from here about Nonna and Sam, but at least I have this. The coffee is exactly what I need and I groan through the first caffeinated sip.

A pair of hands cover my eyes and a familiar voice says, “Guess who?” in my ear.

“Really, Sam? Are we ten?”