Seers (19 page)

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“So, I’m guessing all that wasn’t a dream,” I said, by way of a greeting.

He cocked his head a little, a smile in his eyes. “A strange hello, but . . . I’ll take it.”

“How was the rest of your weekend?” I asked.

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving my face. “Yours?”

“Pretty calm, after Saturday.” I leaned down to pull out a notebook and something to write with. I needed an excuse to look away from him, if only for a second. I had to stop the blush from coming, and exposing me for the silly twitterpated girl I was.

Once I straightened in my chair he spoke, his voice back to business. “I spoke with Toni, and told him to back off a little from Lee. I assume that’s what you want?” I nodded. “The less involved she is, the better.”

“Well, I talked to him, but I can’t promise anything. He’s not exactly . . . easy to control.”

“How long have you two been partners?” He considered briefly, his eyes glancing toward the ceiling. For a strange moment, I wondered if he was avoiding my gaze, the way I’d just done to him. “Phew, time flies. He’s been with me for almost twenty-three years now.” He looked back at me in time to see the shock on my face, and he smiled kindly. “Immortal, remember?

Time doesn’t have quite the same connotations that you put on it.”

“It’s just hard to imagine—I’m only eighteen.”

“Extremely young,” he agreed with a grin.

I shook my head in wonder. “I still can barely digest the fact that you’ve been alive for . . . how long was it?”

“I was born in 1780. I died in 1798. So I guess technically I’ve only been alive for eighteen years, too.” He was close enough that I could elbow him, and I did so without thinking. It wasn’t until I pulled away that I realized that probably was a weird thing to do to someone I hardly knew. True, we’d shared a lot in the past little while, but that didn’t really merit the camaraderie I was feeling. (Not to mention all the other things 142 K • • •

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I was feeling as well.)

Patrick didn’t seem to mind, however, so I tried not to let it embarrass me. Still, I would be more careful in the future.

“You know what I meant,” I said, trying to draw the attention away from the slight pause that had yet to grow awkward. “I mean, what’s it been like? Seeing the world change in so many ways . . .

The technology alone must have been amazing.”

“It’s been rather interesting,” he said. “Cars, computers . . .

still, I think there are things in the past that were better.”

“Like what?”

“Times were simpler,” he explained. “Not necessarily easier, but . . . I think people were happier.”

“The more people have, the more they want—that kind of thing?”

“Exactly.”

I thought for a moment, thinking it was pretty obvious that he didn’t want to talk about his personal life, but dying to know all the same. I decided one more veiled question couldn’t hurt. “Families were stronger back then, I bet. More love in the home?” A strange shadow crossed his face, and he looked down at his desk. “I think love is one of the only constant things through time.

It was all pretty much the same. Emotions are complicated, no matter when you lived.”

My curiosity was piqued by his tone, but I knew he didn’t want to say anything more. He’d only said that much to keep me from prying further.

But before I could think of anything else to say, Patrick was looking up, a slight smile back on his face. “So, I thought you should know—I’m not in choir. I mean, not technically.”

“Huh?”

“Choir. Last hour? I’m not really in the class.”

“But I saw . . .” Realization dawned. “That’s why you wouldn’t sing. You were invisible!”

He nodded. “It was just another test—to see if you were

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indeed a Seer.”

“So you can’t sing?” I asked teasingly.

He grinned, but didn’t answer my question. “I just thought you should know, so you don’t try talking to me there. You’d look like a crazy person.”

“You’re still going to come, even though you never participate?” He didn’t answer, because just then Aaron walked in, a second before the bell rang. “Hey,” he called, looking carefully between Patrick and me. “Lee said you’d be here. Why so early?” I reached down toward my bag, then pulled out The House of the Seven Gables. “Thought I’d try to get the last of the reading assignment in before class. Have you finished?” He seemed to relax a little, and I saw in his aura the tinge of purple jealousy and green uneasiness die down a little. But they didn’t leave. “Not even close. I just can’t get into this book at all.

It’s just kind of . . . dumb.”

I turned slightly away from Patrick to watch Aaron take his seat on my other side, and I wished for not the first time that I could see Patrick’s aura when I felt him lower his head. I wondered what he was thinking about this intrusion, and my turning away from him. He did understand that I wasn’t shutting him out, didn’t he? I hoped he did.

Aaron was speaking to me, a little bit louder than was necessary, since I was sitting right next to him. “So, do you want to do something after school?”

I said the first thing that came to mind—usually not a good habit for me to get into. “What about practice? You know you want to participate in the meet.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but . . .” he sighed, catching sight of my serious face. “All right. Fine. Maybe another night this week.” He leaned down to dig in his backpack, and I leaned back in my seat, fighting the urge to sigh aloud.

Sitting between two guys you’ve just offended is not really the most comfortable place to be.

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Seventeen

Lee led the way into the cafeteria, through the line, and up to the table. It wasn’t until she was sitting down that I realized it wasn’t the table. As in, the place where we always sat.

Five special needs students were already eating lunch, but most looked up to watch Lee as she sat down, a big smile on her otherwise Gothic face. “Hey guys, can we sit here?” Asking a bit late, in my opinion, since she was already making herself at home at the table.

A very skinny boy with glasses and a skin condition started bobbing his head before returning to his sandwich—head still nodding a little, as if he couldn’t stop it.

“Psst!” Lee mock whispered to me. “I think it’s still impolite to stare, hon.”

Trying not to think about what Aaron would think, I took a seat at the end of one of the benches—across from Lee, and right next to a girl dressed almost completely in purple. Her hair was pretty short, and ramrod straight. She turned to smile at me, and I found myself relaxing. Her nose was incredibly small, and her rather flat face was very round. I know it sounds awful to say, but she actually looked pretty. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was. I guess I’d never actually taken the time to look closely at this particular group of kids. Not that that didn’t make me feel really guilty or anything . . .

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I started to unwrap my sandwich, looking at each of them in turn, but focusing on their auras. I didn’t see a bit of green, or purple. There was no gray depression, or red anger. There were only positive colors—Pink excitement, as a larger girl with almost dazed eyes enjoyed her chocolate chip cookie before finishing the mac and cheese in front of her. Blue contentment as the skinny boy sipped some chocolate milk. Yellow happiness as the girl beside me picked up a snack pack of chips.

“Lee,” I whispered in awe. “They’re almost like little kids.

Their auras . . . they’re so happy.”

“Hello,” a boy with a nasal voice said to Lee, speaking loudly and trying to lean around the person between them—cookie girl.

“Hello.”

Lee smiled at him, and nodded quickly. “Hi.” He extended a slightly curled hand, pushing it past the nose of the girl, who didn’t seem to mind. “Hello.” He repeated.

“That’s Trent,” Patrick said suddenly from behind me, and I jumped a little as I whirled around to look up at him. He was standing almost right behind me, a large boy I assumed he’d been helping through the line right next to him.

He glanced down at me, then focused back on Lee. “He’ll keep saying hello until you tell him your name and shake his hand.” Lee took Trent’s offered hand. “I’m Lee,” she said, keeping her voice clear and distinct. “It’s nice to meet you, Trent.”

“Hello!” He grinned hugely, shaking her hand several vigor-ous times before finally letting go and returning to his mac and cheese. “Spaghetti?” He asked eagerly.

“Maybe tomorrow, Trent,” Patrick assured him, moving around the purple girl next to me, and sitting on her other side.

The large boy he’d helped in line moved to the opposite corner of the table, and another boy—very thin but with the happiest aura I’d seen so far—came and settled into a seat on Patrick’s free side.

“Hey, hey, what?” The purple girl asked, watching Patrick like he was her only friend in the world.

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“I’m just telling Trent he might get spaghetti tomorrow,” Patrick explained. Then he addressed me and Lee. “This is Bianca.” He then went around the table quickly, starting with the skinny boy with the skin condition. “That’s Mark, and that—” he pointed to the larger girl eating her cookie. “—Is Olivia.” The large boy that had followed him came next, “This is Jason, and that’s David,” he pointed to a boy on the end, who was eating his apple slices with a lot of concentration, his glasses almost sliding off his nose.

“And this,” he nodded to the boy directly on his left—the one who was almost drowning in yellow happiness, though outwardly he was really just calmly eating a salad and staring off into space.

“This is Landen.”

“Spaghetti?” Trent asked again, looking up from his food expectantly.

Patrick shrugged. “Sorry Trent.”

Trent sighed loudly. “Darn.” Then he brightened. “Maybe next time!” He started to eat, moving on from his momentary disappointment without a thought.

Bianca pushed her small bag of chips toward me. “Please?” She asked, staring right at me.

I set down my sandwich and hurried to help her open the bag, and as she took it back she offered a quick. “Thank you!” Mark was scratching a red spot on his chin, and he was gazing at me from across the table. “You’re pretty,” he said.

I blushed, hardly knowing what to say. “Thank you,” I finally managed.

He had wire rimmed glasses, and he pushed them right up against his face, still smiling at me. “You’re very pretty,” he insisted.

Unsure of how to react, I glanced down at my sandwich.

Should I ignore him, since I’d already responded once? Or did I have to say something before he got his feelings hurt for being ignored?

Suddenly Patrick spoke, his soothing voice low. “Yes, Mark.

She is.”

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I could feel Lee’s eyes on my face as I leaned closer to the table and looked past Bianca. I knew I shouldn’t let her see my interest, but I wanted—almost needed—to see the look on Patrick’s face.

He was staring at his lunch, absently toying with the edge of his sandwich. After a seemingly eternal moment, he finally glanced up, catching my stare. He held my gaze for a moment that was probably more intense that Lee should have witnessed, and then he quickly looked away. He picked up his sandwich and took a large bite, chewing firmly until Jason handed him his water bottle, silently asking for help.

As he twisted away from me to help Jason, I finally dared to meet Lee’s probing eyes from across the table. She had a strange half smile on her face, and understanding in her eyes. She mouthed a very long, Ohhhhhhh, then—at a harsh look from me—she focused back on her lunch before Patrick could turn around and catch her. A smile continued to tug at the corner of her mouth, though, for the rest of lunch.

As for me, I was left trying to convince myself that he really hadn’t said that. I mean, it was only to keep Mark from saying it again and again, right? Patrick was only trying to save me embarrassment, or even save Mark. He hadn’t really meant anything by the simple words. He certainly hadn’t looked at me that way . . .

had he?

Was it even possible that he felt a small measure of the attraction I felt for him? Honestly? I mean, he was like . . . over 200

years old, not that he looked it. And aside from the fact that he was incredibly old, I wasn’t anything special. I mean seriously, I was just another Seer to him. He’d been helping damsels in distress for two centuries, for crying out loud. I’m sure he’d seen plenty of beautiful faces over the years. What could possibly attract him to me? It made sense that my heartbeat quickened when I was near him. He was breathtaking, mysterious, and my protector. I mean, that’s why he was here. But to think that he felt anything for me seemed like a completely ludicrous assumption.

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Logically, I knew I should be a little weirded out by the fact I was reacting this way toward a severely old man. But I wasn’t. He wasn’t ancient, or creepy. He was Patrick.

Just Patrick.

And I needed to get a hold of myself before I fell any deeper.

Because though I knew about him now, I still didn’t know much of anything about him. Not really.

s

All through lunch, Mark—the one who’d called my pretty—

kept going on and on about some video game, telling us all about the different levels, and how good he was getting. David—the other boy with glasses—argued that there was no way Mark was that good.

For the most part, everyone else was pretty quiet. I know I was, and Patrick hardly said a word. Lee ate quickly, and then excused herself. She was hoping to finish organizing one of the drawers in the music library before next period. She told us goodbye, her eyes lingering on me, still dancing in new understanding.

I wanted to shake her.

When lunch was over, an older man—Mr. Donner—came to help lead the kids to their next class. He gave a grateful look to Patrick, who seemed embarrassed by the silent praise. He and Mark shared a secret handshake, he touched Landen’s shoulder as the extremely silent and happy boy wandered away, and then we were alone at the table.