Page 55 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)
“Now, let’s push all the tables aside and form a line from here to there.” James motioned to either side of the classroom.
The kids eagerly rose from their seats and began their assignment.
The noise of all the tables moving at once was deafening.
I pushed my table aside as softly as I could to attract as little attention as possible.
As a result, I, of course, was the last one to finish and stood out ten times more. Cringe .
James waited patiently for me to finish up, as I shuffled to the back of the line, my cheeks burning with embarrassment rather than exertion.
“All right, let’s get started.” He clapped his hands. “Morgan, tell me what you would do first.”
Morgan shuffled a bit, her confidence from last month replaced by nervousness.
“Morgan, I can’t hear what you’re saying; speak up, please,” James demanded. Feeling an unusual urge to comfort her, I sent an encouraging smile her way when she glanced at me.
“I would focus on my will to leave this place and go somewhere else,” she said shyly.
James nodded approvingly. “Okay, where would you want to go?”
“To the ice cream bar.”
James coughed, perhaps masking a laugh. “That’s certainly an entertaining thought, but for now, let’s concentrate on going from this side of the classroom to the other side. How would you go about doing so?”
“But I don’t want to go to the other side of the class, Mr. Walker,” she said innocently. I couldn’t help but hide a smile, and I swear I saw James doing the same.
“Well, look at it this way,” James suggested, “if this week you manage to get to the other side of the classroom, next week you’ll get your ice cream. What do you say?”
Morgan didn’t respond, but the sparkle in her eyes spoke volumes. She straightened her back and declared, “I would close my eyes and focus on the wall, while concentrating on my desire to leave this side of the room.”
“Very good, Morgan. Give it a try for me, please.”
Closing her eyes, a light green haze enveloped Morgan’s features. “You’re doing great, Morgan. Now, focus even harder.”
The light green haze gradually transformed into a darker shade, and as she exclaimed in that high pitched voice of hers, “I want to move ,” as small swirling circle materialized in front of her. My jaw dropped to the floor.
“Morgan, open your eyes and look at what you’ve created, ” James commanded proudly.
Morgan cautiously opened one eye and let out a shriek at the sight of her first portal. The class erupted in cheers, and applause filled the air. Soon, everyone was eager to try creating portals themselves.
While the enthusiasm swept through the room, I couldn’t shake off the hesitation.
The thought of potential failure loomed large, and the idea of failing in front of a group of seven-year-olds was not appealing.
There were certainly more enjoyable ways to spend a Friday morning, such as cleaning a public restroom or even enduring fire ants crawling down my pants.
Fortunately, not everyone found success as effortlessly as Morgan. Most produced some form of haze, but only a handful of my classmates managed to progress from haze to the beginnings of a portal.
“Emma, it’s your turn,” Malec, a small kid with a funny face, called out to me. I wanted to smile warmly, but my expression might have conveyed murderous intend instead. His eyes widened in shock—poor little guy.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Emotions had always just been there. I’d never given much thought to the how or the why. I simply existed with them, allowing their currents to carry me along. But now, ever since I’d started training with James, they eluded me completely.
Cursing myself and my emotional limitations, I attempted to home in on whatever I was feeling, but all I could discern was an undying abyss of nothingness.
How was I to surrender to an emotion when every fiber of my being yearned for apathy?
When the mere thought of feeling anything sent those horrid shivers down my spine?
I really tried to let it all back in, but it felt like pushing against an impenetrable barrier. Despite my best efforts to concentrate, I remained trapped in that empty pit, numbness enveloping me, no matter how desperately I sought escape.
After trying, and failing, to summon any emotion, finding myself unable to translate a simple haze, I stood frozen amidst the room's scrutiny. James, of course, stood nearby with a furrowed brow, intensifying the discomfort and I had to fight the urge to flee.
The class ended rather prematurely, with the promise to resume the same lessons the following week. I could hardly contain my anticipation.
As we neared the exit, James signaled for me to stay behind. Having yet another discussion about my lackluster performance was rather low on my hopes-and-wishes list. So, I fabricated an excuse and hastily fled the scene as soon as the first student exited.
Sprinting back to my dorm, I shut the door behind me with a heavy sigh.
The relief of being alone, however, was short-lived as a knock promptly shattered my hopes for a peaceful night.