He turned so he was facing me. “Okay.”
“You said I’d have telekinetic powers, right? What about mind reading?” I tapped my temple with my finger. “Will I have that, too? Because it would really be killer this Friday when I have my calculus exam.”
“You can’t read minds, but you will develop the ability to read people’s emotions and perhaps even know what they might do just before they do it. This will help you with your visions,” he paused and narrowed his eyes, “but when it comes to calculus? You’re on your own.”
“Bummer.” I drummed my fingers on the counter. Putting my fingers to my temples, I glared at my dad’s coffee cup.
“What are you doing?” my mom asked. One side of her mouth curled up.
“I’m trying to move that cup.”
My parents laughed. I concentrated on the coffee cup, but it didn’t budge.
“I guess I’ll have to work on this telekinesis thing. It’ll come in handy when Ben is hogging the TV remote and forcing me to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for the fifty-millionth time.”
That night, I sat in my room and tried to move everything. I wasn’t sure how the whole telekinesis thing worked, so I just stared at stuff and chanted, “Move, move, move.”
Everything ignored me and stayed where it was.
Telekinesis, my ass.
Six weeks, four days until my birthday.
I was doodling across the front of my notebook when Muriel came into class. Interestingly enough, it was a picture of angel wings.
Muriel slid into her seat beside me and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “I think you need to come over tonight. Have some pizza?” She bounced her pen off her notebook. “There are some people you need to meet.”
“Yeah. My parents told me.”
The instructor began speaking, and I snuck a smile at Muriel before turning forward in my seat. But I wasn’t interested in looking at the stodgy, old professor. My eyes searched out another. When my gaze fell on him, he was staring back at me, his blue-green eyes thoughtful. Chay. Tall, lean, and gorgeous with his dark hair, odd eyes, and a body that looked sculpted in all the right places under his perfectly fitted clothes. I could definitely see why all the girls were crushing on him. But my heart was saved for another. Jake.
And that was why I was floored when I walked into Muriel’s house later that evening and saw Jake sitting on her couch in all his perfect glory. My heart did a little nosedive right to my toes before bouncing back and lodging in my throat. I couldn’t believe it. I’d always thought he looked like an angel with his golden blond hair and denim-blue eyes, but I didn’t know he actually was an angel—well, half angel, anyway.
Oh, holy hotness, Batman! He’s amazing.
Tearing my gaze away from Jake, I looked around the room. Nine sets of eyes stared back at me. Most I knew from school: Muriel and Shayla, who were both on the softball team with me; Jen from my history class; Steven and Jake, who played on the school’s football team together; and I didn’t know Drew, Lily, or Jeff very well, but they seemed nice enough. The ninth person, Chay, was a surprise.
“Hey.” I gave a small wave and then rubbed my sweaty palms up and down my thighs. They stared silently back at me, unmoving. I wondered if there was a secret word or handshake I was supposed to know that Muriel forgot to tell me.
Why am I so nervous? We’re all on the same side, and we’re all going through the same thing. Why do I feel like they’re sizing me up? Because they are, genius. I don’t particularly like it.
“So, what now? Is there some kind of initiation or rite of passage or something?” I scanned the faces looking at me.
“Nope. Now’s pizza!” Jake lunged off the couch, and I flinched. He made it to the kitchen in three large strides.
“Pizz-uh,” Steven called out in a deep baritone that made me jump. Getting up, he pushed Jake out of the way and made it to the pizzas first.
“Oh. Okay.” Standing at the door, I watched them swarm to the steaming pizzas, confused. I thought we were going to discuss things, not have a party.
“They’re not much for small talk,” Chay said as he walked by me and into the kitchen.
Neither was he, apparently.
The ten of us gathered around Muriel’s small kitchen table, ate pizza, and talked about our secret. It was the only place we could interact freely and be ourselves.
“Ever dress up like an angel on Halloween or play one in a Christmas pageant?” Drew asked, smiling.
“Yeah.” Picking a mushroom off my pizza, I flicked it on my plate. I missed, and it plopped on Muriel’s arm. She shrugged a shoulder and ate it. I giggled.
Drew laughed and grabbed another piece of pizza. “Betcha didn’t think you really were one, huh?” He scarfed down a bite without even chewing it.
I popped a piece of pepperoni in my mouth and shook my head. “Nope.”
“My mom collects angel figurines and only decorates our Christmas tree with angel ornaments.” Jen shook her head. “I should’ve figured something was up. Talk about angel overload.”