Just a Feeling

When the filthy little orphan boy came bursting into her room in the morning, he found her slumped against the wall, still by the window. With tentative fingers, he shook her awake and silently handed her a letter.

Groggily, she took it, testing its weight. It was expensive-feeling, and her name was written in elegant script directly in the middle. There was no address or return address, no postage stamp. How curious. She rewarded the boy with a smile and thanked him for giving her the letter, sending him on his way.

The letter was weighted with significance. Rowan could feel something pulsing out of it, and some part of her that she had no control over responded with hope. With trembling fingers, she tore open the envelope and read, ‘Dear Ms. Connor, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been accepted into Clement Academy…’

The letter slipped right through Rowan’s fingers, and she blinked once, twice. Was this for real? She couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t even applied, let alone known this school existed! How did they know about her? It was like a miracle. Maybe those wishes last night came through for me, Rowan thought before she could catch herself. That was a dangerous road to go down. Already, her hope was threatening to eat her up.

But then she realized… she couldn’t go. She had absolutely no money.

She picked the letter back up and tried to stop herself from reading the rest- why feed this new, impossible hope? But the next sentence was, ‘We are awarding you a full scholarship…’

Rowan was glad no one was watching her- she could feel hectic splotches of red on her cheeks, and her eyes were shocked wide open. She must look like a mad girl.

She didn’t care.

She was getting out of here. She was free. And suddenly, she was grinning In her delight, Rowan spun herself in dizzying circles, clutching the letter to her chest and letting herself lose control. She was free! She was going to get out of this place, for good. And she was going to have a new life.

It was all she’d ever wanted. Her heart was beating so fast, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it busted right out of her chest. Laughter bubbled out of her, sounding as frenzied as she was sure she looked.

“What’s the joke?” a voice said from the doorway.

Rowan’s head whipped up and she fell to the floor, dropping her letter again. The room spun out of control and she shook her head dizzily. “Who are you?” She was surprised. Normally, she could feel when people were approaching, because of the emotions they brought with them. She had been too caught up in her joy to notice him.

“Lucas Sinclair, at your service,” the voice said with no small amount of irony. Rowan studied the boy standing in her room- he looked to be her age, maybe a little older. He looked like he was Asian, at least, in part- his eyes were a bright golden color. Those eyes tried to hold hers, but she quickly looked away. Though Rowan had blocked out his emotions, she could still feel a humming electricity in the air, a prickling awareness of this boy that made her uncomfortable. “You’d better pack quickly. We need to be going.

Rowan lifted a brow and gave him a look that clearly said ‘why would I go anywhere with you, you creep?’ A talent of hers was giving very precise looks, not that she had much occasion to. She generally avoided social situations of any kind.

Another boy stepped in the room, and Lucas abruptly left. “Don’t worry about him,” the newcomer said, “he’s… Well, just don’t worry about him. We’re from Clement Academy. We’ve been sent to pick you up. I can help you pack, if you’d like. I’m afraid this will have to be done rather quickly- we’re on a tight schedule.”

Rowan got a sinking feeling in her stomach. What if this was just a trap? She had no way of even knowing this school existed. Some of her feelings must have been showing on her face because then the boy offered, “I’m Evan Archer. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hand for her to shake, but she simply turned and went to her dresser.

She never, ever let herself touch anyone. It made it even harder to ignore the vibes she got off of people. She’d done some research, and had found nothing to explain it, the way she could feel what others felt.

That wasn’t the only strange thing about her, though. She could tell when someone was lying, infinitely more accurately than any lie detector test. Lies just sat funny on her stomach, like an invisible weight, tugging at her. They brought a repulsive taste to her mouth, like mixing tooth paste and orange juice.

And it got weirder. When she was feeling extreme emotion, her eyes literally glowed with it, sometimes changing color completely. On occasion, her intense, light brown eyes would turn piercing blue or crystalline white. That was just another reason she distanced herself from people. How could they ever be expected to understand, when she didn’t understand it, herself?

So, she couldn’t let herself get friendly with this Evan Archer, no matter how kind he seemed to be. She certainly didn’t trust him. Whether or not this was a trap, though, whatever was waiting for her had to be better than staying here. So she packed.

And while she was turned around, shoving clothes from her dresser into her bag, she glanced at a mirror that was perched there. Her eyes were a bright, electric yellow. She snapped them shut, and hoped that Evan wouldn’t notice.

But why hadn’t Lucas said anything? She knew he’d seen her eyes. He must think she was a freak.

Sometimes, she did, too.

Luckily, everything she owned could be fit into her one ratty duffle bag. She didn’t have much at all, so packing it up didn’t take more than ten minutes. And then she walked out the place that had been her home on and off for a decade without a backwards glance.