Текст книги "The Fallen Star"
Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
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Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
The
Fallen Star
Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2011 by Jessica Sorensen.
First Paperback Edition: March 2011
This is a work of fiction. Any resemb-lance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unau-thorized duplication is prohibited.
No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from author. The only exception is by 6/695
a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
For information: http://jessicasoren-
sensblog.blogspot.com/
Cover Photograph by Shutterstock The Fallen Star—Book 1
Chapter 1
In the midst of a dark forest, haunted by the winters chill, I ran for my life. My feet thudded heavily against the snow as the thunderous roar of the glowing-eyed, black-cloaked monsters chased after me.
I shoved helplessly through the brittle pine trees, leafless branches clawing at my flesh. Snow flooded my sneakers, soaking higher and higher on my jeans with every step I took. My heart pounded furiously. My lungs grew tight, about to collapse from exhaustion. The air dipped colder. Fog swirled everywhere. They were close. Way too close.
That’s what these things did—they droppedthe temperature so drastically the air instantly bruised over with ice. And if theycaught me, I was a goner. Their chill would8/695
strangle me to a hypothermic death in a heartbeat.
I threw a frantic glance over my shoulder, struggling to keep my numb legs moving. Flickers of yellow flooded through trees. A sheet of ice crackled over the ground, nipping at my heels. I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to run faster.
“Gemma, there’s no use running.” The man’s voice rumbled through the night. It was the same voice that always showed up right before the monsters captured me. “No matter what you do, you’ll never escape.” The sound of snapping twigs and crunching footsteps echoed nearer. My muscles seized up, leaving me no choice but to slow to a lethargic jog. A cool breeze swept my skin as ice-cold fingers wrapped around the back of my neck and yanked me backward, my bones popping in protest.
I let out an uncontrollable whimper andopened my mouth to scream, but only a9/695
whisper escaped. I flung my weight forward, squirming and kicking and fighting to break free with every ounce of strength I had in me. But it was useless. My arms and legs moved in slow motion. My blood rushed deathly cold, my veins darkening, mapping my skin with bluish-purple lines.
“I told you there was no point.” A tall, husky man appeared in front of me. The black-hooded monster’s bony fingers dug deeper into my skin. “Like I said, you wouldn’t escape.” He grinned the kind of grin that would’ve sent chills down my spine if I hadn’t already been freezing to death.
The golden moonlight spotlighted down from the night sky, highlighting a white scar scuffing his left cheek. His black hair matched his dark, hollow eyes. “Finish her off,” he commanded.
The black-cloaked monsters crept outfrom the trees, their yellow eyes gleaminghungrily. I tried to scream again as ice10/695
whipped through my body. I heard a deep laugh
and
felt
myself
falling.
Then
everything went black.
Chapter 2
I woke up, gasping for air, my disoriented mind still thinking I was sprawled out on the forest ground, freezing to death from the monsters deathly touch. That the tan walls forming my room were just an illusion I’d conjured up to comfort me while I died.
I bolted upright in my bed, my pulse racing as I untangled myself from my sheets.
Beads of sweat trickled down my skin, sticking my t-shirt to my back. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times, seeing if my room stayed in place. Nothing budged and I relaxed. It had been a dream, just like it had the night before and the night before that.
I inhaled slowly, letting my racing heart settle, and climbed out of bed, the carpet feeling cold against the soles of my bare feet.
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I wrapped myself with a blanket and treaded softly over to the window. The soft pink glow of the sunlight spilled over the snowy mountains, kissing at the tips of the pine trees. The pine trees that I’d just been running through, and where I’d keep running every night after I fell asleep because, no matter what I did, I could never break away from my nightmares.
Of course, my nightmares were just the tip of the iceberg in the madness that had overtaken my life. When I was awake, I had much bigger problems to deal with. Real problems. Ones I couldn’t just blink away.
It had all began right before I started having my way too realistic dreams. Back before I’d been able to dream at all. Yep, you heard me right. I used to not be able to dream.
Okay, so you’re probably thinking I’m a total nut job. But before you go jumping to any conclusions, let me explain. See, I wasn’t always the girl that I am now. Terrified—the 13/695
word meant absolutely nothing to me. In fact, almost everything meant nothing to me.
My mind used to be as blank as a sheet of paper—there was zero going on inside. Don’t get me wrong, I could still walk, talk, breathe, and function, I just couldn’t feel anything. Ever. Crazy, I know. But at the time, I could have cared less.
Then about a month ago, something inside me changed. The day had started out just like any other day. I’d been going through my morning routine of getting dressed for school when, out of nowhere, I felt this prickling sensation on the back of my neck. Confused, I ran over to the mirror to check for any bumps or marks on my pale skin. But there was zilch there except my normal specks of freckles.
Chalking it up to my imagination, I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs to get some breakfast. That’s when I felt the strangest thing I had ever felt—this 14/695
overwhelming sadness building up inside me. Seconds later, I was crying, real tears and everything.
It was weird.
Up until then, at least as far back as I could remember, I’d never experienced anything like it before. From then on, my life was never the same. The prickle would show up and bam, I’d be bouncing with happiness.
Or boiling with anger. Or…well, you get the picture. And once I felt an emotion, it never left me. In the beginning, I’d really struggled to keep all of my new found feelings under control. There was this one awful incident at school where I had this sudden outburst and started bawling right in the middle of Mr.
Belford’s lecture on Plate Tectonics. People stared at me like I was a freak, which is totally understandable. I mean, only a freak would cry over shifting plates.
But anyways…
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I had done quite a few searches on the internet, trying to figure out what was happening to me, but I found nothing remotely related to what I was going through. Apparently, whatever “it” was was one hundred percent original. Which was great. Just great.
My life would be so much easier if—
My alarm shrieked, startling me so badly I actually jumped and spun around.
Man, my nightmares were making me jumpy.
I hit the off button. Time for school.
Ugh. School was so my least favorite part of the day. My past inability to experience emotions had kept me detached from everyone and everything, which resulted in my current life being a friendless one. This had been fine when I couldn’t feel, because I’d had no idea what I was missing out on. But now…well, let’s just say that for someone who has no friends going to school is like dangling a piece of bacon in front of a dog’s face—pure 16/695
and utter torture. I hated watching everyone walk around in their little cliques while I stood on the sidelines alone.
I tossed my blanket on the bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I ran a brush through my long, tangled brown hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Then I went over to the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door and did a quick glance over. My legs were way too long, my skin far too pale, and my eyes…they were violet. Yes weird, I know. But it fit right in with everything else that had to do with me.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Marco and Sophia—my grandparents who insist I call them by their first names—were already there. Sophia stood over the oven, pans hissing, as the smell of bacon filled the air.
Marco sat at the table, the morning newspaper opened up in front of him.
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The room was small and brightly lit, making the yellow walls nearly blinding. Add that to the teal cupboards—which Sophia insisted were sky blue, but who was she trying to kid—and the room had this sort of fun-house effect going on.
I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and took a seat at the kitchen table.
Marco peered over the newspaper at me, his black oval rimmed glasses sliding down the brim of his slightly crooked nose.
“Gemma,” he mumbled with a subtle nod.
I strained a smile.
I’ve lived with Marco and Sophia since I was one, after my parent’s passed away in a tragic car accident. That’s all I know about my parents—how they died. I’d asked Marco and Sophia about them a few weeks ago after the crazy prickle thing had traced its way down my neck. To say they’d freaked out was putting it mildly. They’d gone full on ballistic, yelling that I was never to ask about my 18/695
parents again. And when I’d shed tears and screamed back, things got even worse. Finally, I ended up storming off to my room.
Ever since then, our already strained rela-tionship worsened. We barely talked to each other, which I guess isn’t that big of a change since we’d barely talked before.
Over the last few weeks, I’d been trying to make some sense out of why they refused to speak about my parents. All I could come up with was that maybe talking about my parents was too painful for them. Either that or they didn’t like me.
And it wasn’t just my asking about my parents that had Marco and Sophia acting crazy. Every time I was near them, I could sense them cringing, and the atmosphere would weigh down like the air taken on an abrupt case of humidity. One day I’d come down to breakfast smiling, and when Sophia saw me, she dropped a cup. Marco had stormed off outside, slamming the back door 19/695
behind him. Evidently, they preferred the old hollow me. I don’t know why, though. I didn’t. They never even asked me about my sudden ability to feel either. I mean, if you had a child that had been an emotionless zombie for most of her life, then suddenly she did a complete 180 in the emotional department, wouldn’t you celebrate and talk about it instead of getting pissed off.
I know I would.
But since Marco and Sophia chose to say nothing about it, I opted to keep the prickly sensation to myself. Besides, I had a gut wrenching feeling that if I did mention it to them, I’d be buying myself a one-way a ticket to the Psych Ward.
“Do you want some bacon?” Sophia’s voice yanked me out of my thoughts.
The bacon sizzled as she tapped her foot on the tile floor. She reminded me a lot of one of those women in a 1950’s TV series; 20/695
her auburn hair pulled back into a bun, a crisp white apron tied over her floral dress.
“Sure,” I said, starting to get to my feet. I wish we could be closer. Yes, I knew I should be grateful that I had grandparents who fed me and put a roof over my head. And don’t get me wrong, I am. But it would have been nice if they’d at least talk to me more than what was required. Or maybe give me a smile once and a while. Was that too much to ask?
“But I have to go start my car first.”
“Marco already did for you,” she said curtly.
“Oh.” I turned to Marco. “Then—” The sound of the chair grinding against the tile floor cut me off. Marco rose to his feet, all tall and mighty like. He folded his newspaper and tucked it under his arm. “I’m going to um…” He trailed off and hurried out of the kitchen.
He did that a lot—mumbling to himself or walking away mid-sentence. He was a 21/695
retired salesman, but it was so hard to picture since he couldn’t carry on a conversation for more than a minute.
The spatula clanked as Sophia tossed it on the counter. “Go get a plate and come get some then.” Her nippy tone was my signal to hurry up and get out of her hair.
So I did, rushing over and piling a few pieces of bacon on a plate, along with some eggs. Then I ate my food so quickly that I nearly choked twice.
Once I finished choking my food down, I trampled through the snowy driveway, climbed in my faded blue Mitsubishi Mirage that made a loud clanking noise every time I pushed on the gas pedal, and headed off to school.
Marco and Sophia had given me the car six months ago when they’d decided that they were tired of driving me to and from the bus stop, which was about a ten mile drive each way.
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See, I lived in this very small, very spread out town called Afton and driving anywhere always took some time. The town was known for two things: its infamous elk horn arch made of real elk antlers, and its talent for accumulating snow nine months out of the year. Now, I was in no way, shape, or form a fan of either the snow or the cold, so living here was like a polar bear trying to live
in
Hawaii—unbearable
and
very
unpractical.
When I graduate here in a few months, I am so packing my bags and moving to some place warm and one-hundred percent mountain free.
Today, the normally poor road condi-tions were even worse due to the temp being five below and freezing everything in sight.
Yep, five below, I’m not kidding. Forced to drive at the pace of a snail, I managed to play through almost the entire CD of Taking Back Sunday—one of my all time favorite 23/695
bands—before arriving at school. I parked my car right as the bell shrilled from inside the school and reverberating its way outside.
I grabbed my bag, scrambled out of the car, and barreled across the ice-skating-of-a-rink parking lot. I wouldn’t have cared so much about being late, but over the last month I’d managed to run up a near record breaking amount of tardies.
As I reached the sidewalk, about ready to take off in a full-on sprint, I had to stop because the prickling sensation made an unan-nounced appearance on the back of my neck, poking at my skin like a tattoo needle. I held my breath and waited. Each experience was like opening up a present. I never knew what feeling was going to consume me. Or whether I’d like the feeling or want to exchange it for something else.
A few seconds ticked by, but no new feelings came. Well, except for the feeling that I wasn’t alone. Which I wasn’t. There were a 24/695
few people lurking out by their cars, and a girl in a neon pink coat was sprinting like mad for the glass entrance doors of the school. Obviously, she was trying not to be late, which was what I should have been doing. But I couldn’t get my stupid feet to budge, as if the soles of my pink and black DC shoes had melted their way to the sidewalk. And then, suddenly, I saw him; a guy, ambling across the parking lot as if he had all the time in the world.
My heart did this little fluttery thing that I’d never felt it do before. Whoa.Even from a distance, I could tell he was gorgeous; the way his dark brown hair scattered messily over his head, but in an intentionally-done-perfect kind of way. And his bright green eyes reminded me of clovers and flourishing springtime leaves. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a black hoodie. I’d guess him to be tall, but I couldn’t say for sure unless I got closer to him. He had to be new here 25/695
because, if I’d seen him before, I probably would have remembered. No. Scratch that. I definitelywould have remembered him.
He didn’t seem to notice me at all, though. Which was kind of a good thing, I guess, since I was just standing there, staring at him idiotically as he made his way across the sidewalk and strolled past me.
The prickle showed up again, this time filling me with a very overpowering urge to run after him. And I had to admit, I probably would have too if the tardy bell hadn’t rang and knocked me out of my prickle-induced-gorgeous-guy trance.
I flinched and shook my head. What was I doing, standing out in the freezing cold, gawking at some random guy, when what I needed to be doing was getting my butt to class?
I rushed toward the entrance of the school, barely catching up with the new guy as he swung the door open. He stepped to 26/695
the side and held it open for me, very gentleman-like.
I
bit
my
bottom
lip
nervously as I walked by him. I swear my heart was hammering so loudly in my chest that he had to be able to hear it.
Okay, so I don’t know why I did the thing that I did next—it was very unlike me. I mean, I usually keep my head down and my eyes glued to the floor during school hours.
But when I suddenly felt compelled to look up at him, I actually did. And boy was I in for a real shock. And I’m not talking about the emotional kind of shock. I’m talking about a literal shock; a blaze of electricity that fired through my body like I’d stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I froze, my eyes widening. What the heck? Was I going insane? I had to be going insane. First the prickle and now this—what was wrong with me? If I wasn’t careful I was going to end up in a mental institution.
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I felt the zap again and let out a gasp.
The feeling momentarily took me away until I realized I was standing in the middle of the doorway, staring at the new guy with my mouth hanging open. I’d have been completely mortified too, except to my astonish-ment—and my relief—his bright green eyes had widened and were locked on mine, and it almost looked like he could feel the electricity too.
My pulse raced as sparks of static nipped at my skin. The more we stared at each other, the more the electricity ignited, and I could almost feel my skin melting. So many different feelings were pouring through me simultaneously,
confu-
sion…desire…intensity, I couldn’t think straight. I felt an invisible tug, drawing me to him, and before I even knew what I was doing, I took a step toward him.
Like a light switch, his expression slipped down into a glower. “Do you mind,” 28/695
he said, sidestepping around me and letting the heavy metal door slam painfully into my elbow.
“Ow,” I said, rubbing my arm. “What the heck?”
He shot me a glare and a different kind of intensity burned in those beautiful green eyes of his. Intense hatred. My mouth dropped open as I watched him turn his back on me and walk down the hall without another glance back.
Chapter 3
Never in my life had I ever had a crush before. Although I wasn’t even sure if what I was feeling toward the new guy signified as a crush. If a crush was something that could cause a strange mix of emotions to bubble up inside me and leave me incapable to stop thinking about the new guy and the weird electric sensation I’d felt when I was near him then, yep, I had a crush.
All during first and second period, I tried hard to process what had happened—what on earth that electric feeling could have been. But trying to make sense of it had gotten me nowhere. It was about as confusing as the prickle. And my newfound emotions.
And my reoccurring nightmare.
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Wow. My crazy list just keeps getting longer and longer, doesn’t it?
I was fairly spaced out for most of my morning classes, but like usual, I managed to get through them unnoticed. Which was a good thing, since I heard zero of what my teachers where talking about. I thought I’d eventually snap out of it, but even when third period rolled around, my brain was still lack-ing in the focus department, making me question if I was ever going to be able to think clearly again.
Why, you might be asking, did third period matter? Well, because third period was when I had astronomy, which was my favorite subject. Even during my emotionally detached days, I’d still been able to gaze up at the night sky, full of twinkling silver stars, and appreciate the beauty of the sight.
However, the way I look at stars now, and the way I looked at them before I could feel, were two entirely different experiences. Back 31/695
then, I felt like I’d been obligated to look up at them, as if some unseen force that I had no control over bounded me to do so.
Whereas now, I gazed up at them with a desire to…belong…or be part of them I guess would be the best way to describe the pull I felt toward them. The first time I’d ever felt happy—and I mean ever—was when I’d been lying in my bed, staring out my window, watching the stars shine harmoniously with one another. The prickle had shown up, and I unexpectedly found myself smiling. All this warmth and happiness started welling up inside me. The very next morning, when I entered the planetarium-style astronomy room, that same feeling of happiness filled me again. Ever since then, I always perk up when it is time to go to astronomy class.
Today however, I felt completely out of it, and summoning up any happiness seemed like it was going to be a challenge. There was just too much going on inside my head.
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I arrived to astronomy with plenty of time to spare, which was totally typical for me since I had no one to talk to between classes. I made my way up the stairs, to the very top of the mini planetarium, and sat down at my usual table, the one in the very far back corner where most of the loner kids tend to sit. I took my book out of my black messenger bag and hung it on the back of my chair. To kill some time—and to attempt to focus on something else besides the new guy, who I hadn’t seen since he’d let the door bang me in the elbow—I did a quick skim through of today’s chapter. It turned out to be a lame attempt, though, since all I ended up thinking about was how gorgeous he was, how much hatred his bright green eyes had carried when he’d walked away from me, and the electricity humming against my skin when I’d been near him. I swear I could still feel the sparkling sensation lingering on my skin.
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The bell finally rang and class began. Mr.
Sterling started off taking role. I barely paid attention, not even looking up when my name was called and I replied, “Here.” After he finished with role, Mr. Sterling moved on to the announcements. Typically, it was a tedious task, but today it took a turn for the surprising.
“Alright everyone, I have a few things to discuss before we start class.” Mr. Sterling cleared his throat, trying to shush the whispering
that
had
suddenly
combusted
amongst everyone. I still had my eyes glued to my book, only half listening as he continued, “First off, I’d like to announce that we have two new students joining us today.” Did he just say new students?
My head whipped up. Mr. Sterling was standing behind his podium, sporting a wrinkly grey suit and red striped tie. And, holy crap, standing next to him was Mr. New Guy himself. He had a bored expression on 34/695
his face, his arms folded across his chest, his bright green eyes sparkling beneath the florescent lighting.
The sight of him made my heart skip a beat. I let out an unintentional gasp and quickly flung my hand over my mouth, wanting to smack myself in the forehead for reacting so ridiculously.
Kelsey Merritt—aka the head cheerlead-er who sat at the table in front of me—turned around and shot me one of her infamous you’re-such-a-loser looks. Up until a couple of months ago, she hadn’t even known I was alive. And honestly, I kind of preferred the old way, because her knowing of my existence equaled getting thrown dirty looks and nasty comments. Luckily, I wasn’t much of a reactor. At least on the outside anyway. But today, I didn’t even react on the inside because my mind was fluttering with a billion different thoughts that I could scarcely process. Like why the sight of this guy was 35/695
making me react this way? Because, right now, all I could think about was how beautiful his eyes were and how I had the strongest urge to run my fingers through his messy, yet perfect, dark brown hair. And how he—
All of a sudden, he looked right at me, his eyes full of the same hatred I’d seen in them earlier. I blinked and sank back in my chair, the corners of my eyes burning with tears threatening to spill out. I sucked in a slow breath. I would not let some guy make me cry. I wouldn’t.
“This is Aislin Avery,” Mr. Sterling gestured towards a girl I hadn’t noticed was standing on the other side of him. She was short and slender with golden blonde hair running in waves down to her shoulders.
And she had the same bright green eyes as the new guy. She was dressed in a sparkling pink sweater, jeans, and fur trimmed boots. I instantly got the impression she would 36/695
probably soon be friends with Kelsey Merritt.
Which, I know, is very judgmental of me.
I really shouldn’t assume things about people.
“And this is her brother Alex Avery.” Mr.
Sterling said, motioning at the new guy.
Alex Avery? The name sounded vaguely familiar. Why though? I mean, it wasn’t like I was the kind of person who ran into so many people that I couldn’t keep track of their names. And besides, even if I was, I would have remembered him. Still…the sound of his name sent me into a déjà vumoment.
“Now we just need to find you two a seat,” Mr. Sterling said, scanning the room for some empty chairs.
There were two empty seats at my table, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about them sitting by me.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about anyone sitting by me.
Kelsey Merritt’s hand shot up in the air.
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Mr. Sterling sighed. “Yes, Kelsey.” She flashed her set of pearly white teeth at him and twirled her platinum blond hair around her finger. “I was just going to offer Alex a chair at my table.” How nice of her since she shared a table with her two best friends, Anna Miller and Sarah Monroe—both could pass as her clone I might add—and there were no empty chairs for her to offer up. I scowled at the back of her blonde head, suddenly feeling very territ-orial of Alex. And yes, okay, I knew I in no way had any claim over him. But apparently, when it came to him, I didn’t have any control over my actions.
“Actually, that won’t be necessary, Kelsey,” Mr. Sterling replied, and I could practically hear an eye roll through his voice.
“Gemma’s got two vacant seats at her table.
They both can sit there. That way, no re-arranging will have to be done.” He pointed a 38/695
finger at me and instructed Aislin and Alex to, “Go ahead and take a seat back there.” It was at this very moment that the people I’d gone to school with for the last twelve years suddenly decided to notice me.
The weight of their eyes felt heavy, and I found myself wishing I possessed the power to temporarily make myself invisible. The prickle on my neck let me know I was experiencing my first anxious moment. I shrank down in my chair and focused on the table.
I stayed with my eyes down until a small stack of books landed on the table with a thump.
“Hi.” The girl—Aislin smiled at me as she sat down. “I’m Aislin.”
I gave her a small smile. Did I forget to mention my people skills sucked, big time?
“I’m Gemma.”
She smiled again, unzipped her bag, and pulled out a pen and notebook.
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The chair next to me slid out and Alex sat down in it. I held my breath, waiting nervously for the electricity to attack again. I waited. And waited. And waited some more.
But the electricity seemed to be a no show.
Strange.
Mr. Sterling began his lecture on sky charting. I scratched a few notes down, but my attention kept drifting to Alex. He wasn’t doing anything, not even taking notes. He was leaning back in his chair, his arms resting behind his head, his eyes half open. He looked like he could have cared less about class, like it didn’t matter whether he failed or not.
In the middle of my staring, Alex turned his head toward me, his eyelids lifting open.
Our eyes met and I froze, unable to breath.
And then… he glowered at me.
I’d have loved to have told you that, at that very moment, I decided to stop acting like a fool over a guy who obviously despised 40/695
me, and in response to his hateful glare, I fired one right back at him. But if I told you all of this, I’d be lying. Because all I did was look away and pretend to develop a deep interest in my astronomy book.
Yep, I’m a big chicken.
Class moved on so slowly it was unbearable. The electricity stayed MIA, which had me questioning if I’d imagined the whole thing to begin with. Perhaps when I’d felt it this morning I’d been overly exhausted, and my mind had been playing tricks on me. My sleep had been super crappy due to the reliving-my-death-over-and-over-in-my-nightmares thing.
Then again, maybe I was just losing my mind. There did seem to be many things happening to me that could qualify me as being on the brink of insanity.
But right as the thought crossed my mind that I just might be going off the deep end, I felt it—a spark. Soft at first, barely 41/695
tickling at my fingertips, but growing stronger as it surged up my arms and down my back. I had to catch my breath and remind myself to keep breathing as my body hummedwith heat.
I stole a glance at Alex, curious if he showed any signs of being able to feel the electricity. He looked bored. Absolutely, one-hundred percent, bored. He stared lazily ahead at the front of the classroom where Mr. Sterling was yammering something about stars and their positions and…I don’t know, his words sounded far off and distant.
With Alex seeming so relaxed and calm, I assumed there was no way he could feel the electricity. I guess the strange, electric feeling was a one-sided thing. Of course it was. It was me, after all, we were talking about here—The Queen of Freakiness.
