Page 7

Our eyes meet again, and something changes in the charged silence.

He’s reading me again which should feel intrusive, trigger my instinct to run.

Instead, I’m caught in a current, drawn in by this sense we understand each other on a level no one else ever could.

I want him to see inside me. Anything he wants.

Above all, I want him to trust me. Need him to for some reason.

That room.

“Thanks for your concern, but this isn’t your problem,” he says, re-securing his edge. “You need to go.”

“I saw the necklace. It was on a beautiful woman.”

His expression chills further. “How much do you see about people?”

“Only flashes while I’m touching someone.”

He steps back further and tucks into himself. I’m losing him, and it kills me.

“What’s your gift, Daniel? Is that why everyone’s afraid of you? Is that why Clausen…?” I wish I could stop the questions. I know he won’t answer them. Gosh, he clearly hates them even more than I do.

Probably why he ignores them and begins piling his belongings. “Like I said, you should go.”

“I can’t. I’m not leaving you like this.”

“Like what? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not hard to tell you’re hurting, that you’re in this alone.” He doesn’t look at me, and I know he cares more than he’s letting on. I feel it. “They say you’re an addict. Is that true?”

“I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

He’s right, and the door bursts open before I can argue. We both jump at the intrusion, staring over at Laura and Ben, who squint into the light.

“Whoa. Not what I was expecting,” Ben says. “I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence. Did he wake you?” he asks me.

“No, the guard ransacking his room did.” I wish I could start this whole scene over. I had a chance with Daniel, maybe my only one, and now…

“Looking for contraband probably,” Laura mumbles. “And you were in another fight, I see. Fantastic.”

“Yeah, more bullshit for you rumor whores,” Daniel spits, pushing past them.

“Classy as always,” Ben calls after him. He exchanges a look with Laura as the main door smashes open and clatters closed in the distance.

After a terrible night’s sleep, I shuffle into a classroom for my first group session the following morning.

Ben and Laura attend another class during first hour, which leaves me alone for once.

After yesterday’s explosion, and today’s breakfast of continued awkwardness, I’m relieved to be free of their critiques and questions.

My first observation is that this sterile room seems out-of-place in the opulent mansion.

I wonder if the administration intentionally stripped it of its beauty or simply forgot to give it the same attention as the rest of the school.

My second observation: the familiar circle of openness that screams Group Support Session.

I cringe, already dreading what’s coming.

I’ve done my fair share of group therapy, and after my last twenty-four-hours, I don’t have many thoughts fit for public consumption.

The seats fill quickly, and the other students seem to have too many updates for their established friends to make time for new ones.

One girl finally leans close—to ask if I can move my chair a tad to the left.

When the instructor calls us to attention, I flash a clumsy “new girl” smile at her introduction.

“This is where we share our experiences in a safe environment, Rebecca.”

Safe environment? I nod and try not let my face display how stupid that sounds.

“Today we’re going to talk about being different,” she continues. “Should you try to hide your gifts as much as possible or—”

The door clangs open, and we shift to watch Daniel stumble through it.

He turns and glares at the shadows of security fading from sight on the other side.

As usual, his presence makes my blood react before my head.

Violent and hot, like the visions he stirs.

Of course he’s in my class too. Why wouldn’t he be?

Safe environment, my ass.

“Daniel, we’re glad you could join us. Come, sit down.”

He limps forward, eyeing us coldly. His injuries look even more suspicious in the sunlight, and I wonder how much he’s hiding behind that convincing scowl.

I suspect I’ve just scratched the surface of the secrets he’s carrying.

I suck in a breath when our eyes meet, but he quickly breaks the connection.

Not me, though. No, I’m fixated like a flea to an alpha wolf.

He’s discarded the worn jacket from yesterday, and his simple t-shirt strains against a taut frame of muscle when he crosses his arms. My gaze traces his well-defined chest and biceps, before landing on a sleeve of tattoos covering his left arm.

Only a few are scattered over his right, and my heartrate takes off again, wildly imagining hours alone with him to investigate the intricate designs.

When I dare a look back at his face, I can almost see remnants of the shadows he occupied last night.

Doesn’t anyone else notice he’s clearly been through Hell?

The instructor clears her throat. “We were just discussing being different and whether it’s better to blend in as much as possible or embrace the differences. What do you think, Daniel?”

He shoots her an annoyed glance. “Seriously?”

Her expression hardens into what I’m sure is a familiar pattern for their exchanges. “That’s not an honest response, and you know it. Come, Daniel. Maybe being honest with yourself will help you more than you think.”

“Sure. Because that’s my problem: not enough honesty,” he mutters.

She smiles. “Well, that response was honest in a way. Why do you say that?”

“Because this has nothing to do with me. You’re up for a promotion, right? What’d Clausen promise if you could break me?”

“This isn’t the time or place, Daniel. You know what I meant by my question.”

He rolls his eyes and focuses on the far wall. “That doesn’t make it any less bullshit.”

“Okay, now that’s something. So you don’t think the question is valid?”

She has his attention again, but not in the way she wants. “Blend in or embrace your differences? Really? Where do you even get all this crap?”

“Please just answer so we can move on.”

Daniel leans forward and scrubs a hand over his face. “You know, maybe people would actually talk in these bullshit sessions if you asked questions that actually made sense.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re posing a false dichotomy. It’s an either-or where neither answer is valid.”

This clearly surprises her. Whether it’s his point or the very fact of his engagement, I’m not sure. “Why do you say that?”

“‘Blend in or embrace your differences?’ You say shit like that like it’s a choice we have, when in reality, it’s just stupid discussion group jargon.

It doesn’t actually mean anything. We couldn’t do either even if we wanted to.

We’re always going to be alone. We’re freaks who don’t see the rest of the world the same as everyone else.

You can make up euphemisms and hug all you want, but it won’t change anything. ”

“You don’t think you can learn to understand your gift and—”

“Gift?” he spits out. “Will you frauds stop calling it that? Who here thinks they have a gift?” His heated gaze scans the class, and no one dares to budge.

“Like I said, total bullshit. We can sit here and gush about feelings all day, but in the end, we’re all just monsters who will never understand you and you will never understand us. We can’t even understand each other.”

I shudder at the way Instructor Chambers studies him, unfazed by his outburst. How many times have they had this exchange, and yet, just this brief glimpse into his “normal” leaves me reeling.

He’s right, and his rant so closely pierces the heart of my own dilemma I could’ve made the same speech if I had an ounce of his courage.

But I don’t. I’m the girl who watches when it matters, intrudes when it doesn’t.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Daniel. Does anyone else share that belief?”

My heart screams for me to respond, at least nod an agreement, but my brain refuses. The warnings come flooding back, the guard, the visions. I could fit in here. I don’t have to be the freak.

The instructor casts a cursory glance around the circle before landing it back on Daniel. “I guess you don’t speak for the group, but I’d be happy to discuss your concerns after class. In fact, you should plan on sticking around for a while.”

His gaze darkens, something fierce flashing through his eyes before they lower to the floor. My pulse races, my insides crying out for something that means anything.

“He speaks for me,” I blurt out.

Chambers’ attention snaps to me—along with Daniel’s.

“Really? In what way?”

Clearing my throat, I squirm under the weight of their interest. “I mean, he’s right. If we don’t even understand each other, how can we expect others to understand us?”

“Well, that’s an interesting thought. Don’t you think that’s part of what we’re trying to do here? Don’t you think by collectively sharing our stories, we’ll begin to understand each other?”

I huff a dry laugh. “‘Collectively sharing our stories?’ You mean spreading gossip? That’s the only bonding I’ve seen going on in this place.”

She bristles, but Daniel’s surprised interest gives me courage. “I’m sorry you feel that way, since you’ve only been here a short time.”

“What better judge than the new kid? I’m just saying, I have yet to see any evidence of compassion and empathy. I’ve seen a ton of the opposite.”

“Really? I’m sorry to hear that. So do you also think it’s impossible to understand each other? Do you also think you’re destined to remain isolated?”