"Why did you say what you did about him?"
"Because that's what I saw." Angie leaned forward, real anxiety in her face. "He's dangerous, Tori." She hesitated as if she wanted to say more but clamped her lips shut, doodling fiercely.
Victoria sighed. She looked at Angie and quickly squashed the wave of guilt she felt before she did a quick flash of Angie's mind. In the milliseconds it took, Victoria confirmed exactly what Angie had said down to the smallest detail. She really was straightforward; everything was just there in simple black and white. No more, no less. As she relaxed, Angie looked up at her with a quizzical expression.
"What?" Victoria asked guiltily.
"Nothing. Your black lines got really dark for a second. It was weird."
Victoria flushed. "I think I'm getting a migraine. On top of midterms, I'm studying for the PSAT. My brain is going to explode."
"So use magic."
Victoria choked and almost spat a mouthful of Pepsi all over the table. "What?" she spluttered.
"I would, that's all. See, it's pretty simple to me. If you have a talent that makes you do something better, you'd use it, wouldn't you? Well, you should ... use your talent, I mean."
"Why don't you use your talent?" Victoria shot back, suddenly disoriented at the conversation's turn. Angie gave her a measured look before leaning forward.
"I don't think it's the same thing, but okay, I'll play. Look around you. What do you see?"
Victoria glanced around the crowed cafeteria. It looked the same as it did every other day—the jocks in one corner, the blondes at the table next to them, the nerds in another corner. It was like every other high school cafeteria.
"I see kids eating." She looked at Angie. "What's your point?"
"Know what I see?" she asked, gesturing with an open palm toward the other tables. Victoria frowned, deducing what Angie was going to say even before she said it, and started shaking her head.
"I see you understand already," Angie said. "We're not exactly the only different people at Windsor."
"What do you mean, different?"
An exasperated look. "Did you think we were the only ones? Not all of these students are human. Hang on a sec." Victoria watched in incredulous surprise as Angie stared around the crowded cafeteria, and unfocused her eyes, invoking her special Sight. She pointed to three tables over from where they were sitting. "Over there I see a fairy eating with a team of football players, and over by the drinks, a werewolf."
Victoria glanced at the boy getting a soda. She recognized him as a quiet, slight boy from her calculus class.
"Matthew?" And then a thought occurred to her. "Hold up a second, did you just say you saw a fairy eating with football players?" Angie nodded, turning to her as they both collapsed into shared mirth.
"You're making it up!" Victoria giggled.
"I'm not kidding. He's a fairy as shimmery as they come with wings and everything. Cute, if you like sparkles." Angie's unexpected drollness took Victoria by surprise but she grinned back.
She remained unconvinced as she stared at the burly linebacker, but Angie had known she was a witch when no one had. It stood to reason that if she, Victoria existed then other ... things did as well. Brigid's journal entries of fey and werewolves and vampires filled her thoughts. She reassessed Angie's unruffled expression.
She leaned toward Angie, her smile fading. "You're not kidding? Are you?"
"I wish. They're everywhere. Some have glamours and look like you and me. Others don't, they're invisible to the human eye."
"Are they everywhere you look?"
"Pretty much. I don't know what it is but supernatural things love it here in Canville. Maybe it's the woods. They're everywhere. Things that belong in books like goblins, and shape-shifters, and trolls with fur and scales, thorns and curled horns." Angie shivered as if the mere memory of them terrified her. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen." Her eyes clouded. "Sometimes they hurt each other. Badly."
"I'm sorry," Victoria said, at a loss for words. Angie would have to be a spectacular actress to look that afraid of something just in her head.
Angie went quiet for a minute. "I used to wish I was blind. I wanted to cut my own eyes out," she whispered. "I think I even tried one time. But what can you do? You are who you are, right? So I'm careful. And I only have one rule."
"What's that?"
"Never, ever let them see me looking."
Angie shrugged at the horrified expression Victoria knew she must have on her face. "Don't worry, they're not that bad," she said, and then paused, reconsidering her words. "Most of them, anyway. They tend to stick with their own kind, like what you'd usually see, the jocks and the Mathletes and the—what do you call them again? Oh right, the Stepfords."