Heather

West leaned over me. "Are you okay?"

"I’m not sure."

"What did you see?" he asked. "What’s the story?"

I swallowed.

There was only one logical conclusion, but it seemed impossible. But Occam’s razor hadn’t failed me yet. The simplest explanation was usually the correct one. And if that were true, then holy shit. I connected with whoever signed the papers.

Out of all the visions I’d had in my nearly eighteen years, nothing like that had ever happened before.

Not only that, but the older guy pushed me out of my own vision.

Could there actually be more people out there like me? And if so, then how did I not realize this sooner?

There had to be something to draw Dad to his new job. If St. Francis’s was a school for the gifted, I wanted in. Maybe. Probably.

This was insane. I had to talk to Dad before I got my hopes up, but there was no chance of that happening tonight.

West was asking question after question, but I ignored him. I needed air. And fast. That sensory overload had blown my mind. Possibly literally. Well, not technically literally. But still, all rational thoughts had fled.

I hopped up and swung the door open.

"Wait. Let me pick up—"

I left West to clean up the mess he’d made in Dad’s office. I probably looked as crazed as I felt, since I somehow managed to get to the backyard without touching anyone.

Even with our decent-sized backyard, there wasn’t a spot to disappear into. The pool took up most of the space.

The path around it was sprinkled with cocktail tables, and people were packed around them, mingling. A bar was set up in the back and drawing a sizable crowd. The bartender was making a rowdy group a bunch of chilled shots, and a DJ played off to the right of the pool while people danced in front of his table.

This was a disaster waiting to happen. I didn’t think I could make it to the stairs without bumping into someone, but there was no other option. It was worth the risk. Being alone right now was a must.

Before I could go back inside, a hand closed around my upper arm. Full-contact skin against skin.

Shit.

I slammed into a mind I was familiar with. The fact that he went out of his way to touch me when he knew what I was only made him that much creepier.

Images of his fantasies flooded my mind. Sweaty bodies. Naked bodies. Ones he wanted to be with. Those he had been with. And to top it off—a few fantasies starring me.

Was it necessary for West to invite every asshole in his class to the party?

I wrenched my arm away and spun to face Caleb. If his visions didn’t already make me want to kick his ass, his skinny jeans and hipster smile did. Usually I’d just shake it off, but not tonight.

"What the hell is your problem!" I shoved him hard, and he stumbled back a few steps. "Do you really want me to see what goes on in your disgusting little mind? Do you think I want to see when you and Jessica were banging in your backseat? Do you think it turns me on? Because it doesn’t." I poked him in the chest with my gloved-finger. "And if you think that I’d ever consider—"

"Heather!" West said as he stepped between us. I don’t know how long he’d been yelling my name, but from the silence in the backyard, I could tell it’d been at least a few times.

Shit. Why did DJs always lower the music for a fight? Didn’t they know that drawing attention to it made it worse?

I swallowed and looked around. And there was Mr. MacAvoy in the flesh, staring at me like I was a complete nut-job. Just perfect.

"Freaky Heather is at it again. Bitch doesn’t—"

My brother spun. I didn’t have time to stop him before he punched Caleb in the face.

Caleb groaned as he fell to the ground.

"No one calls my sister a bitch, you—"

Dad appeared behind West and grabbed him before West could do any more damage to Caleb. "What the hell is going on out here?" He looked from my brother to me and then to Caleb, who was holding his hand against his face.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time it’d happened during one of my father’s parties.

I stared at the ground hard. "It was my fault." I didn’t choke on the words, but they didn’t come out easily.

"Heather?" Mom said. "Why don’t you go upstairs, honey?"

I nodded, doing my best to not look disappointed and failing. It hadn’t been my idea to leave my room in the first place. Mom reached out to touch me, but I dodged her.

The crowd parted as I made my way inside. I tried not to listen to any of the whispers that followed in my wake. When I was halfway up the stairs, the DJ started playing again. By now, Mom would have taken care of Caleb, and West would go for a drive to wherever it was he went. And I would be here. Alone.

I couldn’t wait to leave LA. The less population density this new town had the better.

Still, I wondered if Texas would be any better. I hoped so, but West was right. If I didn’t learn to control these visions, my life would never be any kind of normal.