I guess she could sense how much this stressed me, so she suggested that I go back to guessing what people wanted to eat. I conceded, but after a half-dozen more people I realized it was too easy to present any challenge. I was already comfortable with this and not learning anything, not learning any self-control.

"This guy wants to try the soup," she whispered to me, pointing at an older, balding man.

"No, he doesn't," I corrected her. "He wants pepperoni, provolone, and green peppers."

"That'll give him heartburn," she said. "I think the soup would be a much better choice."

I turned to face Shadow and she looked back. "I won't do it. I could hurt him."

"You have to learn," she said. "Just like when the change came over me. If you resist it, you'll die or go insane. Don't ask me how I know that, but I do. Without embracing it, you'll be a walking time-bomb."

I looked down at my drawing and refused to look up at her or the man. I could hurt him. I could hurt him badly. I was afraid, but she was right. I knew she was right. Was it fair for me to play with others while I learned what I could and could not do? Could I move gently enough that I could stop if I started to hurt him?

Ever so slowly, I moved into his mind. I didn't have to see him. I could still feel him there, thinking about his sandwich.

«Soup,» I tried to think for him, but the web strands of his thoughts wanted to cling to me. I felt scared and I pulled gently away. I looked back up and he seemed no worse for the wear.

I turned back to Shadow and shook my head.

"Try," she mouthed with her soft lips.

I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them back up. I sighed.

"The soup smells real good," I told her, just loud enough for him to hear. "Would you like a bowl?"

Suddenly, I felt his mind open to the possibility and the thought slipped right in.

"A bowl of your soup for me," I heard him say from behind me. I couldn't help but grin.

Shadow bit her lower lip and smiled. I stared at her. Her face gleamed like a thousand Watt light bulb and again I felt like I would be burnt by her radiance.

She put a hot hand on my leg and I concentrated again.

"I'll try a bowl of that soup," a woman behind the old man said.

Shadow squeezed my leg tight as she resisted the need to giggle. "Now try something different," she said and glanced up at the next person in line.

My eyes never left her face. "Egg salad," I whispered and her dark eyes disappeared into tiny crescents when the man behind the counter began to explain that they had no egg salad.

It wasn't very hard at all. Their thoughts were so sticky. All you had to do was hang the thought out there and let it touch. Some other thought always grabbed it and pulled it in.

"Potato salad, then," I whispered to Shadow.

"How much potato salad would you like?" I heard the kid behind the counter say.

Shadow smiled wide and moved her face closer to mine. Her lips were only inches away from my own. I wanted to kiss her again, right there in front of everyone.

"Something gross," she whispered to me.

"Um… how much… sauerkraut do you… um… want on your tuna salad?" I heard the kid say in a surprised voice.

Shadow giggled again and her lips moved closer.

Suddenly, I felt the thoughts of a business yuppie. I could feel him sitting at the table beside me, staring. «She's just a kid!» he was thinking. «This is gross!»

It made me feel angry. Shadow was more than just a kid. Much more.

It was too easy. I dangled the thought in front of him and I felt his mind grab it. I sat back, moving away from her tempting lips. She did the same.

"Your daughter dresses like a bum," the man beside me said.

I didn't look at him when I nodded. All I could do was stare at her radiance. "Yeah, I know," I said. "I try to buy her new clothes," I explained, "but she won't take my money. She has her mother's stubbornness."

Shadow blushed red and scrunched up her face.

"Well, take this then," the man said and stuffed a few green bills into her hand. I couldn't help but smile.

Still, I didn't look at him. "Well?" I said. "What do you say, dear?"

"Thank you, mister," she said in a low voice as I folded up my sketch pad.

I offered her my hand and she took it.