Eli missed lunch, not showing up again until halfway through our psionics class afterward. Psionics is the study of mind magic, and this quarter we were studying telepathy. Our new teacher Mr. Deverell, who’d taken the position a few months ago when my mom left for England, asked us to break off into partners to work through some of the basic exercises. With an uneven number in class today, I ended up practicing with the teacher.

Not that I minded. Mr. Deverell was young, and even though I swore I would never say such a thing about a teacher, super-hot. In his early twenties at most, he had shoulder-length dirty-blond hair and pale hazel eyes that looked like two pieces of polished river rock. He hailed from somewhere down south, but his accent was slight, just enough of a drawl to be attractive. The first moment he spoke, every girl in the class went gaga. Except for me, of course. I managed to internalize all my gaga. Well, mostly. If you didn’t count the drooling.

“What’s on this one?” Mr. Deverell asked, holding up a flashcard across from me with the picture hidden from sight.

I focused my gaze on it, while I took deep, even breaths, trying to achieve the proper concentration necessary to see the image reflected in Mr. Deverell’s mind. Yeah, I’d have better luck trying to see through mud. The harder I pushed the murkier it became. Then finally, something did appear in my mind, but I knew without a doubt it wasn’t the image on the card. It was the plinth with its hidden word. I clenched my teeth, forcing the image away.

“You can do this, Dusty,” Deverell said in response to my struggle. In his accent, my name sounded surprisingly sexy. He made it easy to understand why so many romance novels were about cowboys.

Concentrate. Concentrate. Oh, screw it. “Apple,” I said, settling on the first random image to occur to me. I’d heard someone a few desks down say the same thing a moment ago and figured it was worth a shot.

An amused smile broke across Deverell’s face as he shook his head. “Sorry. You were close though.” He flipped the card over, revealing a purple ball.

“Yeah, sure. Similar shape anyway.”

“Yes indeed.” He motioned to the cards lying on the table between us. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I pulled off the topmost card and examined the image of an orange triangle. I slowed my breathing once more and tried to project the picture outward so Mr. Deverell could see it, but the image of the plinth forced its way to the front of my mind again. For a second, it was so powerful that I almost forgot where I was, the desire to discover the hidden word as strong as ever.

“Dusty?” Mr. Deverell said, his voice breaking through my distraction. “Are you all right?”

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With an effort I looked up at him. I tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Deverell stared at me, unblinking. “That image, the stone pedestal, what is it?”

I felt the color leave my cheeks. I hadn’t meant for him to see. What’s wrong with me? “It’s nothing,” I said, trying to make my voice as light as possible. I shrugged. “Just something I dreamed about last night.”

Mr. Deverell leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. “It didn’t seem like nothing. It seemed like a—” He broke off and turned his gaze to the doorway. “I think Mr. Booker is about to arrive, and if I’m not mistaken, he will be able to take my place.”

Confused, and wishing he’d finished his comment, I turned my gaze to the front of the room just as Eli appeared. He was carrying a wand. His wand. He held it in one hand, the tip pointed to the ground as if it were a knife he feared stabbing someone with accidentally. The class fell silent, all eyes following Eli as he crossed the room toward Mr. Deverell and handed him a note. Deverell read it quickly, looking delighted.

“Congratulations,” he said, folding the note. “Let’s see it then.”

Eli held up the wand, a dazed expression on his face as if he couldn’t believe it was his. It wasn’t much to look at, hardly more than a short stick of dirt-brown wood polished smooth, but I understood his awe completely.

“Very nice,” said Deverell.

I smiled my agreement, but I couldn’t help but notice that not everyone in the class looked happy. Travis Kelly in particular wore an expression that was borderline hostile. I started to glare at him, but Mr. Deverell’s voice distracted me.

“Back to work, everyone,” he said, addressing the class. He returned his attention to Eli and gave him a quick summary of the task at hand.

Eli nodded and sat down across from me. Deverell clapped him on the back and then walked away to observe the rest of the class.

“It’s awesome,” I said, indicating the wand, which Eli had set on the table in front of him. He picked it up, set it down, and picked it up again.

“Thanks. You first.” He motioned to the cards with his wand. It seemed clumsy in his large hands.

Wincing at his curt tone, I picked up the next card and went through the focusing process again. This time when the image of the plinth rose up I was able to squash it down. Eli stared at the back of the card for several minutes, his fingers clutched tight around the wand.

He surprised me when he answered. “It’s a rectangle.”

“What color?”

“Um … yellow, I think.”

I turned the card over, showing him he was right. A half smile lifted one side of his lips. I returned it with a full one, hoping he was getting over our argument this morning. The situation with Paul would be hard enough without Eli so against it. We might’ve stepped into troubled water with the kissing last night, but we were friends first. I wanted his support.




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