This is a Gift

It seemed misplaced to be where she was the very next morning, in her History class, scribbling notes. There was something very culture-shocking, ironic and eerie, to be told she was a prophecy’s answer for an all-of-humankind problem and then find herself seated in a wooden chair as the teacher walked between the rows of seats, explaining how the Founding Fathers of America came about the Constitution. Since the chaos that had ensued from her last History class, all of the students had been dispersed to other classes, and the local news had had a report about it. It raised a lot of valid questions, ultimately concerning how most universities, much less community colleges, aren’t prepared for a mass shooting and informing students on what to do should one occur. Liadan wanted to pay attention and be actively involved in the conversation, but the idea of taking on such a heated discussion seemed so daunting when compared to her personal life. She should have something to say, having personally experienced the very real terror of possibly being shot, but she didn’t. There was nothing there but a sense of fear about it.

Through the window she could see the news bus parked in the parking lot, patiently waiting for the afternoon news to cut over to them for their five minute spot. They were going to interview the student activities board on the panel they were going to have at the school. It was with local officers and community officials and it would discuss gun violence and emergency preparedness, among other things. She’d heard some critics say it was a delayed response, given the current political climate. The panel would take place later the same day in the one large room her small campus possessed. Maybe she should go - after her “training” class with Prof. Craven. She really didn’t know what was scarier: being killed by a student that wielded a weapon, or having someone enter her thoughts and know the real her, inside and out, and use it against her. Both terrified her in different ways, and it wasn’t at all exciting that she even had to pick between them.

As for the students that were in class with her, they were offered counseling, and even to drop the class, but Liadan had opted out of those. Excusing the fact that she didn’t know how that affected the drop laws her state had, she just wanted to get through her semester. She was petrified of being shot, but it was almost nothing compared to the unknown she daily tried to push out of her mind. She might be okay at forgetting the details of it all, but the feelings that it erupted in her chest were now housed there without paying rent and she didn’t think she had the strength to evict. And she didn’t bother putting into actual words why going to see a counselor seemed like a terrible idea. Professor Craven would probably be fired, at the very least, for leading a secret cult inside the school. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday, but Aaron had appeared next to her the moment she stepped into the school to tell her she needed to meet up with Craven A.S.A.P. in order to better protect herself.

Liadan shook her head to physically clear those thoughts - and the fresh terror that bubbled up - from her mind and wrote what little she caught the teacher saying. Today, it was history, and learning about evils of the past that she pretended no longer existed today. She was in one of the middle rows (didn’t want to seem like the teacher’s pet, after all, because priorities) scribbling notes almost furiously, her new teacher’s deep but still monotone voice filling her head. It worked perfectly for History, she thought, but she was still begrudged she had a test next week when her mind was in such a loop from the day before, more than anything else.

As her luck went, she broke her pencil.

“Damn it,” she said, a bit louder than she meant to and one or two people looked over at her, including the teacher. Liadan quickly offered an ‘oops’ expression and everyone went back to what they were doing. She heard a chuckle come from behind her, “Here.” Turning around, Liadan found a pencil being extended her way. The one doing the offering was a young guy, maybe a year or so older then her. He had short brown hair and a friendly smile. “Happens to me all the time,” he told her, gesturing for her to take it.

“Thanks.” Liadan took the pencil appreciatively, smiling at him. “I’m Tristan,” he whispered to her now turned back and Liadan turned slightly to whisper over her shoulder.

“Liadan.”

“Different. I like it.”

Liadan grinned to herself; usually comments of the kind annoyed her, but for some reason, coming from him, she didn’t mind.

After class, she began picking up her things, and when Tristan passed, she held the pencil out for him. “Thanks again,” she said, smiling at him.

He took the pencil, letting his fingers linger on hers for a moment longer than necessary. “Anytime.” He hoisted his book bag a little higher on his shoulder and then walked away, turning around briefly to offer her a wave. “See you later, Lia.”

Liadan bit her bottom lip, and tried not to let a goofy grin split across her face. Maybe she should finally call Ana.

---

The setting for her very first lesson on what Liadan was considering pretty much just self-control was the courtyard where she’d bumped into Julian and Aaron had rescued her. She hadn’t set foot here very purposely, though she had to admit that it didn’t seem very foreboding at lunchtime. She felt butterflies all through her stomach and it made her fidget with the strap of her messenger bag. Students milled about, and soon that’s what her mind became filled with: the frenzy of choices for Halloween costumes, facts about government, history notes, and equations for math that were just beyond her scope in her freshman year. She stood rooted to the spot, in the middle of the walkway leading in, searching for her professor. He sat at one of the tables, reading a newspaper, two hot mugs in front of him. His eyeglasses sat upon his nose, and he seemed as he always did: unperturbed by the noise around him. Someone bumped into her shoulder as they passed and it made Liadan tense up, dread filling her chest hot and fast before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

“Miss Ryan.”

The professor’s voice drifted into her mind like a dream. It shifted into her own mind, unnerving and comfortable all at once, like a sudden recollection of someone’s voice. She saw him, peering at her over the newspaper. She walked over to his table briskly and he laid his paper down, folding it neatly.

He greeted her as she sat down and he gestured to the drinks in front of him.

“I got you a mug of tea.”

“I prefer coffee.”

“You’ll learn to prefer tea.”

“Based on how much sleep I’m getting, kinda doubt it.”

He just smiled a mixture of a knowing and patronizing smile at her and sipped the mug in front of him. She wiggled uncomfortably, the bag still around her shoulder. The recent memory of bolting last time she was near these tables wasn’t soon forgotten.

“I know you’re still filled with doubt, so I won’t bother with trying to convince you. Rather, I think we should focus on what you do know to be true.”

Liadan made eye contact with her teacher, sitting straight in her chair. She didn’t say anything snarky, she didn’t argue. She just listened.

“The most obtrusive to you at this moment is that there’s more than one voice in your head.” His words were low, but she still took that moment to furtively look around and make sure no one overheard him. “It’s really quite simple: if you don’t want to hear what people are thinking, then don’t.”

Liadan gave him a blank look before replying sarcastically, “Well, that’s easy as pie.” There were several different voices that she could hear, one was of a young woman debating if the man with whom she was on a date liked her. The woman smoothed her hair, sat up straighter, laughed, wondered if that was an appropriate time, sip her coffee. The next intruding voice was that of the young man serving the drinks. His mind was frantic, but not panicked; just a mess of drink recipes moving through his mind as fast as his hands were working. Occasionally there would be a comment on a customer. Then there were the students, and the various subjects they were studying filtered through Liadan’s mind, closely followed by snapshots of their textbooks: a med student, a law student, a writer, the physics major. It was easy to get distracted by them, and almost go off into a daydream of her own.

Liadan’s sarcasm was not lost on her tranquil teacher. He placed his mug down and crossed his hands in his lap, his blue eyes watching her. “If it helps, think of a wall. Imagine that brick wall going up all around your mind.”

Liadan did as told.

And nothing happened.

It was glorious. No images floated through her brain, no mind-numbing chatter. Just blessed silence. Her face split into delight, her mouth opening into a smile. Professor Craven smiled at her. “What did I tell you?” He asked, his tone sounding much like a parent correcting their small child.

Liadan opened her mouth to speak, but as soon as she focused her attention on speaking and what she was going to say, the wall fell and the voices were back. Pythagorean theorem galore, with a bit of Tennessee Williams to match, made a kaleidoscope image in her mind, thanks to their location.

“It takes practice,” her professor said to her sunken shoulders, sipping away at his Earl Grey. “Patience is a virtue,” he added, winking. Liadan just frowned at the mug she hadn’t yet touched.

---

Time to face her fears. It was the understatement of her semester, but it was one Liadan wanted to pursue. Last time she was in the lobby, Gun Control Now had accosted her for her opinion, and one she hadn’t been very willing to give. A week later, and they were still a presence in the school, holding town halls and student meetings; a constant table with someone manning it, passing out pamphlets and information to anyone that hadn’t yet spoken to them. Counter protests were starting, too. Occasionally at first, but now once a day Liadan saw someone standing there arguing with GCN. She’d gotten very good at avoiding the lobby, taking side doors and exits, back stairwells and round-about routes. It was starting to feel like too much. Mental breakdown be tempted, at some point in her life she was going to have to face this lobby again, if only for the registration office, and it might as well be the day she could cut through faster on her way to English after oversleeping. She took a deep breath, the only pause she could allow herself before she was very late, tucked her chin, and prepared to dodge past Ivy and the guy standing there arguing with her.

“We need guns to protect ourselves!” He said loudly, pointing a finger down at the table.

Liadan turned her head away, not wanting to be flagged down, even though it seemed Ivy had her attention elsewhere.

“A gun’s only purpose is to kill,” Ivy replied evenly.

“Yeah, and there’s a storm brewing. It’s kill or be killed, and if I don’t have one, the other guy has a better shot.” The man in front of Ivy insisted, and Liadan froze right behind him, and not just for the apparently unintentional pun.

“So you’re afraid,” Liadan found herself saying.

“Excuse me?” He seemed almost aghast as he turned around, sizing Liadan up. He was much taller than she was and built like a tank. He had broad shoulders, arms as big as her waist, a closely cropped light brown beard, and a camo hat on. “I’m not afraid of anything. That’s the point: I can protect myself.”

Liadan was surprised by her own conviction. “That doesn’t make you any less fearful of the other side. Needing to protect yourself because of some unnamed storm just means you’re letting your fear control you. You’re not better than those you claim to need to protect yourself from. Guns have no place in a peaceful society.” She adjusted her slipping book bag and looked up into the face of the guy who was easily a foot taller than her. “Stop perpetuating the violence in the name of peace.”

She turned on her heel and marched away, her eyes wide as she realized she’d picked a fight in the one place she had tried to hide from. Maybe the adrenaline from her own unease had been her undoing.Her phone buzzed: Big words from a girl who’s scared of herself.

---

“So, what do you think the chrysanthemums symbolize?” Professor Craven asked the room, pacing behind his desk, as usual. “Are they Elisa’s children? Are they a symbol for femininity?”

Next to her, Madison leaned over and whispered, “This story sssssuuuucccckkkkeeeedddd.” Liadan nodded and smiled, trying to keep a safe distance from her. This was only the second time she had shared a class with Madison since her encounter in the woods, and she didn’t think she could deal with the stress of Madison following her around more than she did. It was rather lucky Madison was easy to hide from, though Liadan had found it wasn’t with the people she had just met. She began noticing them around the school. Gina in the library, reading a book a few seats away from where Liadan was studying. Debi in line at the cafeteria, a few places behind Liadan. Christopher worked in the bookstore. Aaron, Aaron was just everywhere, making Liadan wonder if he had actually been in more places than she realized, but invisible. They were either students there or they were spending time keeping tabs on her; either way, Liadan felt that she was now someone very important and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

But that wasn’t important right now. Class was. She raised her hand.

The professor looked her way, “Yes, Miss Ryan?”

“I think they are a representation of her self-worth. Or rather, how she views herself. When the flowers are admired, she takes pride in that, and when they are left behind, her self-confidence is shaken,” she said. Professor Craven inclined his head, nodding in agreement, when Liadan heard a laugh from the back of the room. She frowned, glancing back to see a young guy sitting there she’d never noticed before. He was leaning back in his chair, the front two legs off the floor, one arm slung over the back of the chair.

“You have a differing opinion, Mr.Radic?” Professor Craven asked, and some of the kids in the class looked towards him.

“The chrysanthemums are obviously a motif for Elisa’s sexuality,” the guy in the back replied. Some of the guys in the class snickered, and Liadan almost laughed herself. “Henry doesn’t take notice of her very much,” he went on. “And treats her with almost the same disregard he shows the flowers. But when the tinker shows up and pays Elisa and her flowers mind, suddenly she flourishes.”

Liadan turned to actually look at this man now, not buying his scenario. “How does that indicate sexuality?”

“Think of it this way, sweetheart.” He winked at her and at that, Liadan turned her back to him. “Say the guy you’re seeing doesn’t notice when you cut your hair; it leaves you not feeling very sexy, right? But then someone new shows up and he notices right away how stunning you look. Suddenly, you feel gorgeous again. It’s like that.”

“That doesn’t indicate sexuality,” Liadan replied, speaking to the front of the class and not to him. “That indicates self-worth and self-confidence.” She inclined her head every time she said ‘self-worth’ and ‘self-confidence’, reiterating her point.

The guy sat up straight – Liadan could tell by hearing the front two legs of his chair hit the ground. “Nah, no it doesn’t.”

Liadan turned full around to look at him, seeing that he’d leaned forward on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. “If a woman were to walk up to you and tell you that you were terrible in bed, your sexuality wouldn’t be diminished, your self-confidence would. Our talents are extensions of how we see ourselves.”

The guy just grinned at her, while the rest of the class let out mixed responses. Some of the guys in the class let out, “Oooh” noises, while some of the females giggled.

“On that note,” Professor Craven said loudly to be heard over the noise. “Class dismissed.”

The guy in the back didn’t lose eye contact with her until Liadan turned around to start collecting her things.

“He’s attractive,” Madison said, standing up to leave already. She never brought many books with her, and she’d spent most of the conversation about Steinbeck’s story packing her things. “Do you think he’s single?”

Liadan gave Madison a side long look. “You think a bowl of soup is hot.”

Madison squinted her eyes at Liadan. “I hate to tell you this, Lia, but nobody likes cold soup.” And then she turned and walked out the door, her attention on her phone.

“Yes they do! It’s called gazpacho!” Liadan called after Madison indignantly, but her words were lost in the air. The gazpacho in question was now standing next to Professor Craven, standing firmly on two feet, arms crossed and whispering. She headed straight for the door.

“Miss Ryan,” her professor stopped her. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He gestured towards the young man. “This is David Radic. Debi’s twin brother.”

Liadan raised an eyebrow, giving him a once over. They didn’t quite look the same, Debi and David. They both had the almond shaped brown eyes, but that seemed to be where the likeness ended. Debi had bushy bronze hair that fell around her shoulders, his was a short, wavy chocolate colored mess. He was wearing simple blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a slender, well-built frame and her gaze made him grin; a cocky smirk that Liadan supposed was meant to stop women in their tracks. She pursed her lips in response.

Enjoying yourself? She heard in her head – which she could tell by the fact that it was his voice, but his mouth hadn’t moved. It was an odd sensation she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. Liadan shifted her weight, ignoring him. “So what can you do?” She asked dryly, still unhappy with his way too overconfident attitude. His grin got bigger, and all he did was raise a hand and snap his fingers: a small flame appearing in his palm. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone saw this, but no one else was in the room. She still felt this was some secret she had to keep, though strictly speaking no one had voiced those words.

“Mr. Radic is a fire starter.” Professor Craven said, walking behind his desk to start collecting his own things. “He is another of our friends. Regrettably, he was out of town the last few times we met.” Professor Craven glanced at David. “And no, Miss Ryan, he is not a member of this class.”

David chuckled and Liadan shifted her weight uncomfortably again. There were plenty of questions about why he’d bothered sitting in on the class, and why she was just now finding out Debi had a twin, but it seemed moot to bother asking.

“Well, see you tomorrow, professor.” She turned to leave and David followed her, leaning against the doorframe.

“So,” he said, crossing his arms.

Liadan, in the hallway, gripped the strap on her messenger bag. She turned on her heel to face him directly, her white skirt swishing with the movement.

“So.” She said, lifting her eyebrows expectantly and hoping her voice carried the finality of a conversation ending.

“So, you’re the one I’ve been hearing so much about, huh?” David spoke casually, an easy grin seemingly always on the corners of his lips. He had a sense of boyish mischief about him that both annoyed her and drew her interest, which, she supposed, is why she didn’t just walk away from this conversation.

Liadan shrugged. “How do I know what people are saying and what they’re not?”

“You read minds, don’t you?” He shot back instantly and for a moment, Liadan was stunned. Behind her, the hallway was full of students coming and going.

“Why were you late? Where have you been?” She asked pointedly, changing tactics.

David stood up, no longer the offhanded breezy guy he was showing. “I just had some stuff to do. It doesn’t matter.” He turned to go back into the classroom, where Prof. Craven still waited.

“See ya around, Dan.”

---

“So that kid in the class was an “Initiate”?” Liadan asked, sometimes still confused by all of this information. She was seated in one of the chairs in a study room at the school library a little later that day; they were gathered all together for their weekly meetings. She wasn’t really sure what they were for, as they weren’t planning anything. In fact, she’d begun to think it was really for bonding and unity, except for the fact that she was starting to think that she annoyed the crap out of everyone.

“Yep, the school is actually a big feeding ground, if you will.” Christopher replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. He’d been quiet at first, but the more time he spent around Liadan the more he talked. And talked. And talked. He reminded Liadan of the shy six year olds she worked with, and Christopher was just as adorable. His hair, though short, still had long bangs that occasionally fell in front of his eyes. Sometimes when he talked, he would swing his head, sending raven black strands flipping. He alternated this with pushing his glasses constantly up the bridge of his nose, one long lanky finger at a time. He was unassuming and talked about pretty much the same things that her six year olds did, except his stories were much more on point with fact and far more detailed. He would gesture when he spoke, his hands moving in short, curt movements. He kept his tones mild and calm, but the glint he would get in his eyes let Liadan know how enthusiastic he was – especially if he was talking about his major: History.

Liadan considered his words a moment, feeling a new uncomfortable sensation settle into her stomach. “But why did he pull a gun?”

“Because that’s part of their hazing,” Debi said. She was seated across the room, next to David. “They have to do a violent act; something to prove they’re willing to do whatever they’re told to.”

“Then they get their really cool powers,” David added, wiggling his fingers as if he were telling ghost stories to middle schoolers. This new information began a war in her mind, one that made her stomach turn but she didn’t yet have the words to address: was it better that her not-supernatural trauma was now supernatural? The world had seemed senselessly violent for the last week. It was part of her reluctance to talk about it: had she not suddenly developed powers and removed the gun, she might have witnessed a murder, and that was a what-if thought process she didn’t want to go down, if not only for the extended questions. What if he hadn’t stopped there? What if she had been a casualty? How many more killings would he have committed before someone did stop him? She had begun to feel a little thankful that this new world had dropped in her lap and having telekinesis might have helped her reality for the better; knowing that what she had witnessed was all a part of her newfound powers changed the tide of feelings she had about them towards the negative.

Still, that violent act relating to what she was currently dealing with restored order in its own twisted way. She let the feeling settle in her stomach and stay there, her attention turning away from her thoughts at the sound of Professor Craven’s voice.

“You’ve met a Channel, Miss Ryan. Aaron rescued you from him. His name is Julian.” Professor Craven told her. He was at the front of the room, a stack of papers to grade in front of him. He was reading them quietly, chiming in when needed.

“You will always know when you’re around one because you’ll start to feel ill-at ease when one comes around,” Christopher told her. Briefly, she remembered her interaction with Julian and how she had felt his smile, laugh was all...off.

Something occurred to her. “Wait, what did you just call him?”

Christopher said, “We call them Channels because they’re channeling an evil not quite theirs.”

“That’s not really clever,” Liadan replied, wrinkling her nose. “Yeah, well, we weren’t trying to win any awards, we just wanted a name civilians like you wouldn’t understand.” Aaron told her. He’d been sitting behind her, near Gina, seemingly bored as he always was.

Liadan raised her pencil. “Technically not a civilian.” She said, looking back at him, smirking slightly. Aaron gave her a look that said he wasn’t amused.

Liadan turned back around. “Anymore, anyway,” she finished, and noticed David watching her, an intrigued grin on his face. “No, Miss Ryan,” Professor Craven said, his eyes still downcast at the paper in front of him. “You’re not.” He looked up and smiled at her kindly for a moment, but Liadan could almost swear she could see a hint of sadness there. She squinted, trying to read the expression when Professor Craven broke the look. “The most important thing you’ll need to know,” he said a little louder, his voice changing as if beginning to lecture in one of his classes. “Is that before you do anything, you will need to gather and collect stones.”

“Like a video game.” The words slipped out of her mouth bluntly. She felt several eyes on her - judging silently, she was going to assume. “Collect all the stones – beat the bad guy!” She finished, by way of explanation.

Debi sighed. David smirked. Gina might have smiled slightly, but she hid her face so fast it was hard to tell.

“I’ve never thought about it before, but that does seem to be an accurate assessment of the situation.” Christopher said thoughtfully, one finger lightly placed against his lip in consideration.

Prof. Craven seemed unperturbed, maybe because he had seen enough as a teacher that at this point nothing a student said could bother him. “Yes, collect all the stones, beat the bad guy. That’s your task as the chosen one. You will have to find these stones.”

“That’s it? Just find the stones? That doesn’t seem so bad,” said Liadan.

There was an uncomfortable cough from across the room, and both the professor and Debi seemed to shoot a warning look at David.

Aaron stood up, breaking the silence. “I’ve got to get to class.”

Everyone stood up, too. Liadan followed suit. She wanted to know what the look between Debi, David, and Prof. Craven meant, but the look she saw David and the professor share right as she made to exit told her she might not want to know.

---

Liadan didn’t know why she was walking around a mall with Madison, or what decisions had led her there. The large orange cola and bag of pretzel bites in her hands settled her stomach somewhat but didn’t offer any support. Though, she reconsidered, as she took a bite and let the salt settle on her tongue, it might have held some sway on my choice.

Still, she didn’t know why she had said yes when Madison asked to hang out, but she figured it had something to do with the overwhelming guilt and weird feelings she felt about avoiding her for a full week; ducking her waves, not returning texts, and generally pretending Madison wasn’t a human that Liadan would have to deal with. Which sounds like shit when I put it like that without any context. She thought, following Madison into Forever 21. The real truth was Liadan didn’t know how to get Madison away from wanting to be her sidekick and convince her she wasn’t special. How do you treat someone you don’t want to blow your cover? So when Madison had caught her in the bathroom, walking up to wash her hand at the faucet right next to her, smiling brightly in the mirror and said, “Hey! How is everything?” and winked, Liadan knew she was going to have to do something about it because her plan of attack had failed. So now she was at the mall, walking out of Forever 21 just as quickly as they had entered and into Abercrombie and Fitch with no real motive except an obligation to occasionally give her opinion on this year’s fashion. The heavy perfume smell hit her nostrils in the overwhelming way that stores in the mall liked to market themselves and draw you in. Liadan slurped from her drink, hurrying out of the entrance, dodging other customers and the tightly packed displays. Madison hadn’t asked her anything about what was going on and so far Liadan hadn’t told her they couldn’t be super buddies together.

“I think I’m more of a summer,” Madison spouted magazine article lines, looking at the brightly colored orange and pink tank top. She held it up to her face, looking at Liadan imploringly. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

Liadan inclined her head, squinting her eyes at the bright colors. “Yes?” She offered, more as a question than a statement.

Madison mocked her movements, tilting her head the same way Liadan did and squeezing her eyes to near slits. “Lia, are you an autumn?”

“I was actually born in the winter.”

Madison slapped Liadan’s arm: playfully, but hard. “Oh my god, that’s not what that means.”

“Ow!” Liadan pulled her arm into her chest, two pretzel bites toppling to the ground. The skin just above her elbow stung where the slap connected. Next to them, the mannequin wiggled, moving towards them a couple inches.

Madison gave it a sideways look, her mouth tilting up in a sideways smile. “Was that you?” She asked in an excited whisper, her head tilting towards the offending model.

Liadan just stared at the mannequin. She couldn’t have done that. Since meeting Professor Craven and the others, whenever she had used her abilities, it was with conscious thought - at least, where the telekinesis was concerned. She wasn’t particularly feeling any stronger than she had in those moments, either. “I- I do -”

“You should consider trying to market off of these skills,” Madison cut her off. Then her face lit up. “Oh my GOD! You should be an INFLUENCER.” She giggled at her own words, clapping in elation. “I’ve always wanted to be an influencer. How glamorous.” She swooned.

Her voice was louder than Liadan wanted, and the conversation was beginning to tread in the direction she dreaded. Liadan was still staring at the mannequin, doing the mental calculations of whether or not she was the one behind its moving. Surely she couldn’t make something move without consciously thinking it, right? Not now that she was always aware of it. She’d barely dipped a toe into knowing the inner working of telekinesis, but so far, she in some way made a choice to do it.

“Do you think you’ll want to fight crime, instead?” Madison resumed looking at clothing, casually flipping through the racks.

Liadan could feel her breathing getting faster and more shallow, her attention now at glancing around the store to see just how many witnesses were around. Occasionally her eyes darted back to the mannequin, but it hadn’t moved again.

“I..uh…” She stammered, her attention going three different ways.

“Oh my god,” Madison suddenly whirled around, her purse spinning around with the movement, making herself look like a very brief tornado. “What if you’re a child of a prophecy?!” Liadan’s heart did one fast beat and then felt like it stopped altogether.

“Lia, I have so many questions!”

Liadan reminded herself to breathe, because she wasn’t sure she would do it without telling herself. People pushed past them, browsing the store like everything was normal. It seemed weird to realize that everyone else was just going about their lives, unaware that a ticking time bomb of uncontrolled supernatural powers with mall food court food and anxiety stood right by them. Behind Madison, a clothing rack fell off of the wall; nude dresses toppled to the ground in a heap. A swear came from the young woman working behind the register.

Madison turned to look at the clothing and when she turned back around, her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in child-like excitement.

“Did you do that?” She said, her voice high and loud. “You’re so powerful!” She almost shrieked the words and Liadan’s anxiety kicked up right with them. She felt her stomach plummet, and her eyes scanned the area for what felt like the five millionth time, making sure no one heard. Her hand squeezed on the styrofoam holding her soda, condensation making her hand moist and the ice shift loudly.

“You’re gonna be SO famous!” Madison stepped towards her, and Liadan stepped back just as fast, pinching the bag of pretzel bites shut. The display of hats beside Madison collapsed.

“No, I’m not,” Liadan hissed. Her gaze went to the hats and the employee, cleaning up the dresses not very far away who was now looking over at them. She took another step back, bumping into a table that had folded pants on it. “Stop being so loud.” The words came out in a rushed whisper, and the pants behind her rose into the air and then dropped.

Madison stopped, looking from the pants to the hats. She didn’t say anything, just kept looking from one to the other.

“You’ve barely seen me do anything,” Liadan felt like she was pleading by way of showing her inadequacy. It didn’t feel right in her stomach, but if she was honest, nothing felt right in her stomach anymore. At this point, not even the soft pretzels were a solace.

“You mean, you can do more?” Madison was ecstatic. She clapped her hands to the sides of her face.

The jolt of adrenaline that shot through Liadan when she thought she said the wrong thing was not welcome. She sipped her drink just to make herself do something, slurping long on the mostly-melted-ice-and-very-little-soda. The hats besides them stacked themselves. Liadan and Madison both looked down.

“Show off,” Madison laughed.

The straw fell out of Liadan’s mouth. “That wasn’t me.” Manifestations of negative emotions aside, she was sure that being scared and panicked was not going to make her accidentally stack hats neatly. Or could it? Maybe having telekinesis meant she would finally get her life in order. Clothes began to fall off the rack beside them. A few of the perfume and cologne bottles began to randomly spritz their scent, an orchestra for the olfactory system. The headache that was starting to seep in from the mixed aromas of vanilla and grapefruit and cedarwood told her she was wrong about the whole powers-mean-my-life-will-be-in-order thing.

Madison was still looking at the hats on the ground, but her attention turned towards Liadan as her hair began to rise into the air.

Madison swatted it down. “Lia, stop it.” Her hair rose into the air again, flying up behind her to stand straight out. She looked like a comical version of someone who had just been electrocuted. Madison swatted at her hair again. “Liadan, this isn’t funny.”

Liadan watched it happen once more, “I’m not doing it.” She said, hearing laughter from people who were watching the perfume bottles spritz.

“What the hell is happening?”

Thoughts began to drift into Liadan’s head as her guard went down, her focus on making sure the store stopped coming to life. The pants rose into the air again, a little higher. One flew out and past them both, hitting the employee trying to pick up the dresses.

“I don’t think I’m doing it,” Liadan added, making a conscious effort to breathe.

“Did I just see pants rise into the air?”Another voice, another pound of Liadan’s heart as she stressed she couldn’t control that, either.

“Lia, you’re scaring me,” Madison’s voice was lower but not as low as Liadan needed her to be.

“What’s going on with those two?” Another employee stopped nearby, watching them.

“Holy shit! I did not just see that!” She had no idea who this had been, but people were staring through the glass windows from the mall.

Voices began to fill Liadan’s head, and she tried to focus on what Max had taught her about blocking things out, but she couldn’t manage it. A couple was stopped nearby, nervous laughter coming out of them. They were whispering to each other and Liadan’s heart was pounding so hard she felt like it was about to jump right out of her chest. She clutched the cup hard, pulling her arms into her stomach, the skin just above her elbow still tingling from the slap. Perfume bottles near the counter began to bust, liquid flying everywhere and shrieks filling the store.

“Stop it, Liadan! You’re freaking me out!” Madison covered her ears and screamed, and Liadan felt like everyone in the entire store was staring at them. The pants behind Liadan began to fly from behind her at Madison, and Liadan began to breathe so fast and heavily her chest was noticeably rising and falling. She couldn’t even force words out of her mouth to deny what Madison was saying, instead she said the same three words to herself in rapid succession.

“Make it stop make it stop make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop.”

Her head whirled from flying pants to rising hair to another perfume bottle shattering, her dangling, white puffball earrings hitting her chin and neck with every swivel. One by one, as she focused on the pairs of pants, they stopped, some still a few inches above the ground. Her attention landed on the perfume bottle that just busted and she focused on the liquid. Liadan stared hard at it, not wanting to smell another whiff of raspberry or whatever this one was. The droplets froze in the air, suspended over the counter the bottle was sitting on. Big droplets, medium droplets, and thousands of little ones. It was like the liquid astronauts would consume, except unmoving.

One of the employees, who had ducked behind the counter, peaked over it in curiosity. Slowly she stood, and with one finger reached out to touch a droplet. Just as she touched it, someone also ran past Liadan, knocking her pretzel bites out of her hand. Abruptly, her concentration, patience, and the strings holding her together all crumbled; liquid fell everywhere. Another perfume bottle burst, pants started to fly past them, hitting their legs. There were so many screams, and so many people running into the store to see what was going on, if Liadan could hear more thoughts coming towards her she couldn’t tell.

Madison screamed and ran from the store. Liadan gave one longing look at her fallen pretzel bites.

“It wasn’t me,” she said lamely, before turning and also running from the store.

--

In the back of the store, hidden in a corner behind a table of clearance items, a woman stood. Her hair was white blonde, in a high ponytail, and her smirk lacked warmth or mirth. She watched the young woman run out of the store, the one holding the large soda cup, and wearing the ridiculous earrings. She stopped once to look back into the store before continuing out of sight.

Next to the blonde woman, an employee crouched, crying. She had her phone out, and she was filming all that was happening. The blonde woman scowled, unhappy to see the livestream of events. Abruptly, the phone died. Pleased, the blonde woman strolled out of the store, everything currently in the air immediately dropping in her wake.

---

Halloween. The flyers for the holiday party had been everywhere. She hadn’t planned on going out or given it any thought at all, if she was honest, but she didn’t want to think about life anymore. A party at school seemed a fairly harmless way to go about it, though she also knew the risks of spending the evening doing uncomfortable small talk while sipping cavity-inducing fruit punch were high. The school didn’t have a gymnasium or even a ballroom of any type to boast. Instead, it had one big classroom that was usually split into two by a divider connected to the ceiling. Still, Liadan was impressed by how well the room had been decorated. Cobwebs hung from corners of the room, and a smoke machine assaulted the senses the moment she stepped inside. The lights were dim, with a blacklight flashing in one corner. Off to one side was a picture booth, and by the table with a light assortment of snacks were tombstones with funny explanations of death. “Killed by exams.” “Death by stress.”

“Relatable.” Liadan said aloud. She wandered over here first, after stopping to get the clichéd punch with floating eyeballs.

“Which one?”

Liadan turned to see Debi standing by the tombstones, David right behind her.

Liadan shrugged. “Both.”

“They were funnier last year.” Debi scanned the crowd, looking for someone. She was dressed like someone from the 80’s, with a tutu in neon yellow, tights that stopped under her knee, and big earrings. Whomever it was she was looking for, she saw them almost immediately and departed without saying another word. Liadan didn’t have time to turn and see who it was before

David got her attention. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Dan herself.” Liadan frowned. “My name is Liadan.”

David shrugged. “LiaDAN. Dan.”

“Leah-dun, actually.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

“Nice wings.” David touched one of the feathery appendages strapped to Liadan’s back. Her last minute decision to come hadn’t left her much planning time, and the wings and halo were leftovers from a Christmas pageant she’d done as a kid. Add one simple white dress and voila.

“Yeah, well, what are you supposed to be?”

David spread his arms wide. “Your next mistake.” He grinned the cocky grin she was sure was the only way he actually knew how to smile.

Liadan felt a quick flutter in her chest. She swallowed it and glanced at his attire. He was wearing the same beat up blue jeans and white t-shirt he was wearing the other day, except tonight he’d dressed it up with flannel orange and black button down which he’d chosen to leave unbuttoned.

“You’re wearing your usual outfit. I guess you’re a mistake every day?”

She watched his jaw drop. It pleased her that she’d made him speechless, followed by an instant panic she might have offended him. What did it matter? She’d only met him three days ago.

Her eyes swept the room, hoping to spot Tristan. For a brief moment she thought she spotted Julian and she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

“What?” David was around the tombstones and by her side in a flash.

“N-nothing. I thought I saw Julian.”

David lifted his arm and put it back down, almost as if he second-guessed what he’d been about to do. “Don’t worry about him when I’m around.”

Liadan rolled her eyes. “You and Aaron,” she said, and walked away from him, sipping the beverage growing warm in her hand. The punch was just as sweet as she thought it was going to be. She gagged as she made her way to the photobooth.

“You know,” someone said from behind her. “It helps to add something to it.”

When Liadan turned around her face split into a grin. Tristan was dressed as an FBI agent, with a ball cap and blue blazer with FBI emblazoned in bright yellow, and sunglasses.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” she said happily.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming, either.” He leaned against the wall, casually crossing his arms. “So tell me…did it hurt?”

Liadan looked at him confused and then realized what he meant. “You mean when I fell from Heaven?” She laughed. “That’s one of the worst pick up lines there is!”

He shrugged bashfully. “You are dressed like an angel and walking amongst us mortals.”

She bit her lip, feeling nervous. Over his shoulder she spotted Christopher and Gina, standing in the bobbing for apple’s line, their backs to her.

“Hey, do you want to dance?”

Liadan noticed that couples had begun to pair off in the middle of the floor. She nodded. Tristan’s face split into a grin. He took her cup of punch and set it on a nearby table and led the way to a spot on the dance floor, stopping by a couple dressed like Winnie the Pooh and Jack Skellington. In the mix of pairs of dancers was Debi and a guy dressed like a vampire, completely immersed in each other. Her arms were around his neck and their foreheads were pressed together, both of their eyes closed as they swayed to the music. Liadan turned away from them, giving their intimacy as much privacy as possible. She delicately placed her hand on Tristan’s shoulder and her other hand in his, and goosebumps lit up her arms. He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back, just below her angel wings, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster, the butterflies in her stomach dancing delightedly. The song was a popular pop tune she’d been hearing on the radio, and she didn’t know if she should stare into his eyes, or look away, or watch her feet.

She went for the joke. “I can’t stare wistfully into your eyes with your sunglasses on.”

Tristan laughed, and lifted the sunglasses. “Sure you can, Lecta.” Instead of the light blue she’d seen before, Julian’s golden eyes stared down into hers.

She shrieked and pulled away from him, but the hand around her waist tightened and pulled her close. Her right hand remained clasped in his, no longer eliciting the excitement of a first dance, now frozen in place. Her left hand was the only barrier against Julian, pushing him away even while the rest of her body remained pulled tight against him. The hand on her back was firm, his fingers pressed like claws on her skin. She leaned as far back as she could manage, and as he spoke his body bent with hers, their faces inches apart.

“You can’t escape me, Lecta.”

Liadan searched the crowd behind him; surely no one thought this was a healthy interaction between two people, not with the look she was sure she was giving him. She could feel her heart beating rapidly as adrenaline pumped through her. Everyone was frozen, and the comedy of being this scared while Winnie the Pooh was a statue next to her was just the parody she should have expected from her life.

“That’s not my name.” She managed to say, looking directly at Julian now. His gaze was intense, but the creepiness she felt in his presence wasn’t reflected in his eyes. There was a hunger and a desperation there that paused her fear. She stopped bending away from him and pushed back ever so slightly. He pulled back as well, but his arm remained firm around her waist, the fingers tightening, digging further into her skin.

“You don’t get to decide if you were picked for this or not, Liadan Ryan.” The words floated across her mind.

“No,” she replied aloud. “But I do get to decide who I dance with.” The words tumbled from her mouth, emboldened by one moment of uncertainty. Every ounce of her focused on pushing Julian away: physically and mentally. She closed her eyes tight and forced him out of her mind with the very little amount of training Professor Craven had given her, while shoving with both arms and imagining Julian being pulled away from her.

Abruptly she heard laughter and the rushing back of sound. She opened her eyes to find herself seated on the ground up against the wall. Tristan was leaning over her, and Debi was by her side. Another woman she recognized as the front office administrator was also near her. Scattered about in measured distances were Christopher, half hidden behind him was Gina, and David a little further away, watching with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Other random party goers were also watching her, but no one she recognized except Madison, though she was across the room by the door. She gave Liadan a thumbs up and a wink. She was dressed like a fairy, with large sparkly wings extending from her back, purple and pink paint on her face and arms. Aaron hadn’t made an appearance to the party, Liadan noticed. Or he had and just didn’t want her to know it.

Debi surreptitiously had one hand placed lightly on Liadan’s ankle, no doubt very purposely placed. Liadan was relieved to see that Tristan’s sunglasses were on top of his head and that it was actually him.

“Are you okay? You fainted.” Tristan seemed genuinely concerned and Liadan couldn’t help the small smile of pleasure that tugged at her lips.

She licked them to try and hide it. “Yeah. I guess it’s too hot for me or something.”

The office administrator held a bottle of water out to Liadan. “Drink this. You probably just got overheated.”

Liadan looked around the room for Julian, but she didn’t see him. Debi’s hand on her ankle was comforting her, sending waves of mellow; she almost felt drunk with relaxation. Knowing the others were nearby helped ease her concern. Still, she didn’t think she wanted to walk to her car by herself.

Her phone bleeped a text message. Was the punch too strong for you to handle?

A shiver ran down her spine.

---

To her delight, Liadan began to see Tristan throughout the campus, and they began to spend a fair amount of free time together. Mostly it was their History class, but it was becoming more and more common for her to spend her lunchtime with him. When it rained, they would sit in the small café in her school by the windows. He made her laugh, telling her about his life with brothers and a single dad. When the weather was nice, they would sit outside under the single tree on an island in the parking lot, one individual spot of shade during the mostly hot days. Tristan nicknamed it their “Oasis” and Liadan loved those days. It didn’t matter if she was a Chosen One, or even a just-skating-by college student. Here she was on an island away from everything and could relax with a cute boy. It’s all an eighteen year-old girl could want when she was stressed beyond belief; especially during the Autumn weather.

A cool breeze floated through. “I was named from an Irish baby names book,” Liadan said, biting into the apple slices she had brought.

Tristan laughed. He would wrinkle his nose when he was listening to her in a way that she found adorable.

“I’m not kidding,” she went on. “My parents were flipping through a book and thought my name sounded good. I would be unique.” She emphasized the last word, staring off into the sky and trying to sound posh.

Tristan sipped at the latte he was holding and shook his head. Liadan continued, “I think I got the better end of the deal, personally. My little brother is named Elliott. His nickname is Ellie.”

Tristan laughed again, and every time he wrinkled his nose, Liadan saw it as a personal accomplishment. “What’s your nickname?” He asked.

Liadan shrugged. “I never got one. It’s not really easy to nickname Liadan, I guess. People call me Lia sometimes, though.”

A silence fell between them, and Liadan just munched the apple slices, watching students come and go in the parking lot. Luckily the other side of the school was where all her scary moments had been this semester, and she said a silent thanks that she wasn’t subjected to the painful memories. They were too fresh for her to stomach being reminded.

“I know why you’re in my history class.” Tristan said. His tone was mild, but Liadan froze. It wasn’t a secret, the whole school knew why some students had been shifted around. “You don’t have to tell me about it, and I’m not trying to ask, but…” He trailed off, and Liadan didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t have the words to describe how it made her feel. She stared at her fingers and played with a hangnail.

“I just…I just want to make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again.” This time when he spoke, Liadan turned to look at him. Tristan was fumbling with his latte. He was laying back, propped up on one elbow, and he wasn’t meeting her eyes. “Because I really like you, and I…I just want to protect you. I know that we haven’t known each other that long and all, but…”He was still speaking when impulse took over Liadan. She turned to him and leaned in, words escaping his lips right before hers touched his.

“You’re not like other girls.”

Red flags raised in the back of her mind like a wave, but he tasted like coffee, and he was kissing her back and that’s all she wanted to focus on right now. He wanted to protect her, and now especially when she didn’t know what her future held, and she couldn’t remember a day in the last few months where she wasn’t terrified or uncomfortable or sure of anything, this was all she needed. A moment in the grass, with a dreamy boy who wanted to take care of her. She could be a strong, independent woman tomorrow.

---

Later, at the end of her last class, Liadan gathered her things. She cautiously walked to her car, feeling the need for extra precautions. She may have had a great day and she may now have some semblance of understanding of what was going on in her life, but she fell back on the tenets instilled in her in kindergarten: 1) always have a buddy; so she made sure to leave with the group of kids exiting from her class, and 2) look both ways before crossing the street; so she made sure to do just that. She even cast a rather useless look over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching her, because the uncomfortable feeling of being under surveillance was still ever present. She stopped at her car door to drop her books down, and closed the door, almost without incident until -

“You need to come with me.”

Aaron was right there, leaning against the back door of her car. She felt that if it were possible to jump out of her skin, that’s exactly what she would have just done.

“How’d you show up without me noticing?” Liadan demanded, bewildered.

“My power is invisibility, I’ve been watching you this whole time and you never knew.”

“Creepy.”

Aaron shrugged. “Believe me, I’m not really a fan of it, either, but someone has to make sure you don’t get in trouble.” His voice simmered into patronizing tones, his head tilted. His expression likewise melted into staring at her as if she was the new kid at preschool. It was painfully obvious that he hated being the watchdog, but that was an issue she would pay attention to later. There was silence between them as an autumn breeze whipped through. Aaron dug his hands into his pockets and he looked at Liadan expectantly.

Liadan returned the look until she remembered why he’d appeared in the first place. “I can’t go with you right now. I’ve got a job to report to.”

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sick.”

Aaron frowned, the dimples on his cheeks becoming very noticeable. “This is important,” he said at last.

Five minutes later, and Liadan was in Aaron’s front seat, texting her boss she would be a little late.