We were almost through a full week of tutoring when that thing happened again. And afterwards, I was left with more questions than answers.
It started out with me beating Jasper to the library. I had skipped out on lunch, feeling too apprehensive about our lesson today to eat anything, and was looking for the unabridged version of The Count of Monte Cristo. Ms. Fields must have been in the cafeteria getting her usual chicken salad. I figured Jasper was there, too, relishing his time away from me.
De, Di, Do…Dumas, I thought while tracing my fingers over the rows of books. It had to be somewhere here, considering most 10th grade English classes included it as part of the curriculum. Finally, I spotted it on the shelf above my head, the thick novel sandwiched between several thinner books. I reached up, stretching out all of my five foot six height to try and grab it. My fingers just barely brushed in front of the spine. If I were an inch taller, I would've been able to reach it. Still I persisted, grunting with the effort to stay on my tiptoes for more than a minute. Just as I was about to give up and use a chair, a pale hand easily surpassed mine and plucked the book from its spot. I fell back on my heels, bumping into the person behind me before whirling around to see who had snuck in. The hair at the back of my neck instantly stood on end.
Towering over me, his hand still resting on the shelf above my head, was Jasper Hale. How he had gotten into the library without me hearing, I didn't know. He must have been silent as a cat on carpet to get so close without me noticing. And now, we were way too close. Close enough that my heart was pounding in my ears, drowning out the sound of my breathing. Close enough that I could see the various shades of gold in his eyes. Close enough to smell the delicious cologne he wore, something with notes of leather, whiskey, and vanilla tobacco. My mind went numb at the scent, and it felt as if time slowed. I had to tilt my head back just to look at his face straight on. For once, he didn't seem completely put out to see me. He didn't look pleasant either, but any improvement in his attitude was always welcome. He held my gaze as he pulled the book off the shelf.
"The Count of Monte Cristo," he read from the front cover, finally breaking our eye contact. His right eyebrow lifted in silent judgment as he continued to examine the cover. "A story of betrayal and revenge."
I noticed a few other things, this close up. His pale skin was flawlessly smooth, much like Alice's. His cheekbones were prominent under that flawless skin, but there was a haunted look to his eyes. Dark shadows were lining the skin underneath, as if he hadn't slept in days. And the color of his eyes was darker than normal, too, more like a dark amber than their usual honey. I grasped onto these facts, trying to gain a more level head despite how loopy I felt.
"Did you eat lunch already?" I chirped, finding it hard to speak normally. He shook his head and pressed the book to my stomach before turning away. I grabbed it just in time, blinking after his retreating figure. The farther away he walked, the clearer my head became. I tentatively followed, placing the book at the circulation desk on the way.
We started as usual, him writing out an explanation of the section material and then me working through a couple of practice problems which he then corrected. We were on the last problem set from the current chapter when it happened. Jasper was passing my notebook so that I could review his feedback. As I reached out to receive it, the very tips of our index fingers touched. My head swam, briefly with too many emotions to nail down, but it wasn't as intense as the last two times. Uncomfortable, yes, but not much different than standing up too fast after laying down for a while. I watched Jasper's face to see if he had felt it, too. We blinked at each other from across the table, both stunned into speechlessness. This was the first time it had happened secluded from other people; maybe it was a good time to talk about it.
"Did you feel that?" I whispered, not wanting Ms. Fields to overhear, though she was at the other end of the room. A look flashed through Jasper's eyes as he hesitated to answer.
"Feel what?" He finally said while staring at me blankly, as if he had no idea what I was talking about.
"You know what I'm talking about!" I hissed, leaning over the table. "That thing that happens every time our hands touch. The dizzy feeling, like your head is spinning and there's too many…"
I paused here, unsure of how to continue as a strange feeling washed over me. It was like I suddenly felt uninterested in pursuing the discussion any further. In fact, I wasn't interested in pursuing anything at all, whether it was something as simple as talking about the weather, or studying calculus. My brain just kind of….stopped. Like everything on my mind was wiped clear.
"Are you alright?" Jasper asked, concerned. A small furrow appeared between his brows. It was the first time he'd addressed me with an expression other than hostility.
"Um, yeah. I just kind of forgot what we were talking about. What section are we covering today?" Whatever was preventing me from thinking straight had lifted enough for me to focus on the entire reason we were both here. He slid his notebook towards me, and I started copying down each word. My mind wasn't entirely clear, but at the time, I didn't know what it was or what to do about it. It could be hormones, or the fact that I skipped lunch, or even the after effects of standing so close to Jasper as he hovered over me a few moments ago. So, I tried to shake it off and focus on the handful of math problems that needed solving rather than the mystery that could be solved after I passed my AP exam. Though I didn't miss the slightest hint of a smirk that Jasper had throughout the entirety of our tutoring session.
After school, as I was headed towards the hospital for my shift, the veil around my mind completely lifted, and I remembered exactly what I had wanted to discuss with Jasper and why it was so important. He had acted like he didn't know what I was talking about, like he didn't get dizzy and confused, too. Had I misunderstood his body language the three times it had happened? Was I the one that was totally crazy? I knew that the ability I'd lived with for as long as I could remember was real and working just as it always had, I just needed to figure out what it was about Jasper Hale that threw it all out of whack, and why he insisted on acting like he didn't.
During my shift, my mind kept straying to Jasper. There must be something specifically about him that was interfering with my ability to perceive emotions through contact. Deborah was on the phone coordinating numerous visits for drug reps, completely ignoring my side of the desk. I was getting faster at uploading patient files into the database and she had started giving me space, checking in less and less the more competent I got. She wouldn't notice if I quickly did a little research, would she? I wasn't 100% sure where to begin, except with the few things I knew about myself.
Psychic abilities. I typed the words into the search engine, not feeling very optimistic about what I would find. The first few hits were ads for psychic hotlines that offered free over the phone tarot card readings, followed with a pay-by-the-minute explanation of what the reading meant. I scrolled through names like Madam Esmerelda and the Clever Clairvoyant CiCi until I was sure that I needed a more specific search, so I tried List of emotional psychic abilities. The third link, a Wikipedia entry for empaths, seemed the most promising. The first section explained the non-paranormal idea of an empath, someone who was sensitive to others' emotions. I skimmed down to the next heading, Paranormal Concept. Words like parapsychology, psychic channeling, and spirits of the dead jumped out. I'd certainly never channeled the emotions of a dead person; when my Nana died two years ago, I had briefly touched her hand, despite my better judgment. It had felt cold and waxy and 100% devoid of emotion.
I continued reading through the paranormal section, learning that the perception and manipulation of emotions was known as "pathokinesis." I'd never had a word for what I could do; I guess I had never really thought about needing a label for it, but I was glad to have it. The only question now was: where did Jasper fit into all of this? What was it about him that caused my ability to go haywire?
"Collins!" I nearly jumped out of my skin as Deborah called from the storage room behind me. I was too caught up in the article to realize what she had been doing for the past few minutes.
"One second!" I called back, quickly hitting the 'command' and 'p' keys at the same time before hopping up and holding my scrub jacket more tightly around my torso, a sudden chill traveling through my body.
People with the innate ability to sense the feelings and emotions of others are said to have the gift of pathokinesis.
I paused my reading to fluff the pillow behind my back and tug the new heavy bedspread farther up my body. The space heater had been moved beside my bed and cranked up all the way, trying its best to banish the cold air from my room. I took a sip of hot cocoa with whipped cream, tightened my hold on Mr. Biggles, the stuffed cat I still kept from elementary school, and kept reading.
Though some people are naturally sensitive to the emotions of others, psychic empaths are able to pick up on the emotions and feelings of others without any type of verbal or physical communication, though physical contact is sometimes necessary. This gift may be paired with emotional manipulation, or one of its subsets: emotion inducement1, empathic projection2, emotion projection3, and/or empathic communication4.
I didn't have any other cool superpower to pair with my pathokinesis, but it sounded awesome. I had printed the entire article, and skimmed down to the blurb about emotional manipulation.
Emotional manipulation can manifest in psychic empaths differently, depending on the person. 1Some are able to induce emotions that were not previously present, 2share their own sensations and emotions with others without explicitly communicating, 3make their emotions visible to other people, projecting them in a visual way, or 4hold conversations strictly with emotions that are communicated nonverbally. All manifestations of emotional manipulation may be limited to proximity, skill level, and the necessity of physical touch.
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to manipulate anyone's emotions but my own, aside from pissing off Cara and Jasper, apparently. I flipped through a few more pages, reading about each specific ability until I reached the last page.
Who can wield these abilities?
Though humans may be blessed with the abilities of an empath, other humanoid creatures may possess them as well. Shape-shifters are the most likely, as their shifting forms are acquired later on in their human life. Descendants of powerful witches can also learn these skills with the proper meditation and a strong connection to the energies of others. Vampires…
I blinked hard and started to laugh at what I had just read. Up until that point, I was intently reading the article, soaking up information in an effort to figure some things out. But vampires? I was open to a lot of this, given my unique skill for emotional perception, but vampires were apparently where I drew the line. All I could imagine was Nosferatu flipping a light switch in a Spongebob episode, and started laughing again. Well, the article was useful for one thing: helping me understand myself, even if I couldn't figure out everything else. I placed the papers in the garbage and snuggled under the covers, hoping for answers and warmer weather.
Matt: wat r u up 2?
Me: working. U?
Matt: otw 2 practice. Wanna grab smthn 2 eat after work?
I sent a quick text back saying that we could meet at the diner and returned to my job inputting patient info. I had reached the 'H' section of the filing cabinet, full of Hackmans, Haddens, Haines, and Hairrells. But as I started on names beginning with 'HAL' I noticed something odd: there was no record for anyone with the last name Hale. I admit, I had been anticipating a file for Jasper, though I wasn't particularly interested in his medical history. Nevertheless, it caught my attention when paired with the fact that there were no files for the Cullens either. Wouldn't they have been to the hospital's urgent care clinic at some point within the last few years for something, especially due to Jasper's migraines? Maybe they were just really healthy people, but I doubted it. I knew I shouldn't be so curious about peoples' records; it was unprofessional and risky to my job. However, I kept that fact at the back of my mind.
"Collins."
I jumped, feeling like I'd been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar. There was nothing incriminating on my desk, but Cara had a weird way of knowing when I was hiding something.
"I'm thinking we could have spaghetti for supper tonight. I've been craving Italian food all day."
I replaced the file I'd just finished and pulled another one.
"Actually, I have a date tonight at the diner. But if you still want to cook, more power to you." I resisted the urge to look up at Cara's face. I hadn't exactly mentioned Matthew to her. She was too nosy and would start asking a million questions, but I couldn't hide it forever.
"A date? With who? Since when are you dating anyone?" I chanced a peek and saw her eyebrow cocked at an angle, something we both got from our mom. Something that made my stomach lurch apprehensively.
"Matthew Reese," I replied simply, not giving any more info than what she had strictly asked for.
"Oh, is that why you're flunking calculus? Because of a boy?"
Over the last few weeks, I'd felt my cheeks flare up in embarrassment plenty of times, but never in anger, until now. Cara and I, like most sisters, had a knack for getting under each other's skin, though I felt like she did it on purpose while I usually didn't.
"I'm not flunking calculus," I continued typing, trying not to let my temper get the better of me. "I'm just not doing as well as I'd like."
"Mhm, is that why Dr. Cullen's foster son is tutoring you? Jasper, is it?"
I flicked my eyes back up to my sister and instantly felt the irritation in my stomach give a little sizzle. She had this look, this I-know-you-hate-this-right-now look, that ground my gears.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Maybe if you weren't so focused on dating, you wouldn't need a tutor. You're not going to get into a good college if you don't buckle down this last semester. The boys can wait, your education can't."
Ugh! As if she knew what she was talking about!
"I've already got a mom, and I'm pretty sure she's in France right now," I hissed through gritted teeth, trying not to cause a scene at work. Deborah would be walking in from the back at any moment. The last thing I needed was her reporting that Cara and I were having an altercation while on the clock.
"Whatever. I'm just trying to help you, but if you want to be a brat about it, you can fail calculus for all I care."
She walked away before I could get another word in. As unsatisfying as that felt, it was probably for the best. We could argue for hours if allowed. Cara was notorious for trying to mother me, then getting upset when I gave any push back. I never claimed to know everything, but I wasn't an idiot either. And I was eighteen. If I wanted to screw up my life, it was mine to screw up, not hers. Besides, the harder she tried to make me go in one direction, the harder I wanted to ignore her.
By the time I met Matthew at the diner, a bitingly cold wind had picked up. The clouds hanging low looked like they were bringing snow, though I wasn't too sure. I'd had very little experience with weather cold enough for snow until recently. The warm air inside the building did wonderful things for my skin and my mood. I didn't want to talk about what happened with Cara and me, especially not to Matt. He was sitting in a booth, sipping a Coke and scanning the menu when I walked in. I felt butterflies take flight in my stomach as I approached. Act cool, I recited just as he looked up and smiled. I smiled too, willing myself to act natural as I sat down.
"Hi," I greeted him, while taking off my coat and getting situated in the booth. The vinyl cover made a farting noise as I scooched farther in. I hoped he hadn't noticed it.
"Hey, how was work?" His easy going smile slowly spread across his face. I tried to smile back, despite my exchange with Cara.
"It was fine, kind of boring." There was no way I could tell Matt about my snooping in the hospital files. Not only would it get me into trouble if someone else found out, I would also look crazy. A waitress came by to get my drink order (Dr. Pepper, since there was no sweet tea this far west). I noticed that it was the same waitress that served Cara and me the first day I was in town.
"Wanna split an order of onion rings?" I suggested, while trying to decide on an entree.
"Sure," he agreed. We put in our order a few minutes later and began discussing details for the Valentine's dance.
"My dress is a really pale pink, in case you needed to know that. I wasn't planning on going all out. I figured that was what prom was for. Do people make a big deal about prom around here?"
Back home, girls considered prom almost as important as their future wedding, but I knew that was mostly a southern thing.
"Yeah, especially girls like Jessica Stanley. Last year, she wore a dress that…" he trailed off, looking a little uncomfortable. "A dress that looked really expensive," he finished, though I did catch a red tinge creeping over his neck. Had he put his foot in his mouth by not realizing Jessica and I were friends, or was he about to say something really embarrassing?
"Anyway, most people just do the usual. Dress up, take pictures, grab dinner, and then go dancing. Nothing too flashy."
"Thank God, I could do without flashy this year," I sighed, taking a long sip from my drink. The onion rings had just arrived. Both Matt and I reached for the same one, our fingers brushing. A muscle in my neck twitched. I half expected the emotional feedback loop, but that only happened with Jasper. Instead, I got the standard main feelings.
Nervous. Happy.
I couldn't figure out the third. It was too faint, too buried, pushed far into the back of his mind.
"Do you want to get dinner beforehand? It starts at seven 'o' clock if I'm not mistaken. We could eat and then head that way after."
I munched on an onion ring and nodded my head. Our plans were coming together nicely, though I hoped that things wouldn't be too awkward. Matt and I were attempting to get to know each other in case our date to the dance ended up being a more long term thing. So far, we had only texted a couple of days, the conversation feeling stilted.
"Maybe we could all go out for dinner, like a triple date. Me and you, Angela and Eric, Jessica and whoever she's going with."
Jessica was still looking for a date, but I knew she secretly wanted to go with Mike more than anyone else.
"Are you sure? We could make it a 'just us' type of thing."
"Yeah, I think it'll be fun to all hang out together, don't you?"
Matt shrugged, obviously not liking the idea, but he didn't continue pressing for a regular date. I felt a little uneasy, like it would be better to agree and move on. At that moment, our food came out: a chicken breast with green beans and mashed potatoes for him and baked mac and cheese for me. Conversation stalled while we both dug into our plates. I tried to push away the idea that I should concede on the triple date thing. I didn't know Matt all that well and having other people present for the dance festivities would make me feel a lot more comfortable. Once we both had got half way through our dishes, we started talking again, this time about sports. He was the center fielder on the varsity baseball team. I could talk baseball any day. It was the only male dominated sport that I kept up with.
"You should come to one of our games before the regular season ends. Maybe you'll be my good luck charm."
Matt winked and dug back into his mashed potatoes. My stomach did a little flip-flop.
I ignored the tinge of dread that immediately followed.