Intrinsical (8 page)

My head dropped between my knees with a noncommital shrug.

Brent took my silence for agreement. “Good. So she might not be crazy but
you
. . . you have an awfully short temper,” Brent teased with a smile in his voice.

Despite my current feud with Brent, I laughed. “I usually don’t,” I said honestly.

He chuckled. “So, what you’re saying is I bring out your book-wielding, short-tempered side?” He hooked his foot through the straps on my backpack and brought it front of him. “Removing temptation.” I gave him a look that communicated he should wither and die.

“
So why did you follow me out here?” I snapped.

“
I told you. I saw what happened in class and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

My hands immediately flew to my necklace and began twisting it nervously. “I got nervous,” I said. “I felt sick, but I’m feeling better now.” It was an edited version of the truth, but still not a lie.

“
That’s not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant during your speech.”

“
I got nervous,” I repeated slowly. “Stage fright.”

He sighed. “Yara, are you trying to tell me you didn’t astral project in the middle of talking?”

My jaw dropped.

He gave me a smug smile as he leaned forward and patted me on the knee. “I knew it. I think I knew it from the start. You’re one of us.”

I verbally stumbled. “One of who?”

“
You’re a
Clutch
.”

“
I . . . like in a car?”

Brent looked amused. “No, like in a Clutch, a person who can astral project.”

My mind searched through all the fringe science stuff I had read through with Cherie and back toward everything my grandma had ever told me, but I came up empty. “I’ve never heard that term before.”

“
Well, you wouldn’t have— it’s what they called it here at school. It used to be Pendrell’s secret society.” Brent leaned in, his voice lowered. “No one is supposed to know any of this but I . . . know some things.”

“
A secret society?” I bit my lips together to keep from laughing.

“
Yeah.” Brent didn’t notice my mocking of him; his mind was somewhere else. “It sort of disbanded a while ago, but I want to get it running again. If there are two of us, maybe we can.” Brent whistled excitedly, his fingers drumming on his leg. “You didn’t even need training, you did it yourself. I didn’t even know a girl could.”

The feminist in me bristled. “How very eighteen-hundreds of you. You’re a regular misogynistic chauvinist pig, huh?”

“
Now, now don’t get yourself all riled up. They just never had a girl member before, but we’re going to have to let you in.”

“
Really? I can join your secret club? Do I get to learn the secret handshake and everything?” I clasped my hands together in mock glee. “Of course you’ve never had a female member here, idiot. You’ve never had girls enrolled here before. How did I dance with a guy who’s never heard of feminism?”

“
I’ve heard of it, but that doesn’t mean a woman can do everything a man can do,” he goaded. I went to smack him on the back of his head, but he ducked with a snicker. “I’m learning,” he informed me. “How did I ever consider dating such a violent girl?”

“
We’re both lucky we got out early before we really knew each other.”

“
Oh yes, good thing neither one of is still interested in the other,” Brent said with a playful grin. “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

“
I may not be angry anymore, but it takes a while to forgive,” I informed him honestly, wiping the flower petals from my black pencil skirt. They rained down over fallen leaves, adding a dash of color to the brown foliage.

“
Makes sense.” Brent nodded as he crossed his arms. “I only said that about girls because I honestly didn’t know girls could do it. I was told it passed down through the male genes.”

“
Oh.” He had me on that one; the Acordera gene only passed down through the maternal side, after all, as far as I knew.

“
That’s it?” He prompted, shocked. “No apology for smacking me?”

I yawned and studied my nails in reply.

“
Okay then.” Brent stood up and started pacing in front of the bench, kicking leaves as he walked. “Obviously you’re gifted, but you need help to hone your natural ability. There are some things that are essential to know.”

“
Look, Brent. I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’m not interested.”

He looked startled and began, “I—”

I cut him off. “I don’t want any part of this. The whole thing kinda freaked me out. I’m sure girls always do what you tell them because you’re hot, Brent, but I’m just not that interested.”

His head perked up with a wide smile. “You think I’m hot?”

I almost growled at him as my cheeks flushed. “I’m not interested in astral projection, so just leave me alone.”

“
Why?”

“
I have some very personal reasons.”

When I stood up to leave, he reached out to grasp my arm, but I pulled out of his reach.

“
Yara, that isn’t how it works. After the first time, you lose the ability to choose. You need my help.”

My gut wrenched, like someone was tightening a loose screw. My chest tightened, my hands tingled, and I teetered backward. “I don’t want to fight again, so please drop this.” I picked up my backpack, and sprinted away from him, silencing the part of me that told me he was right.

Chapter 5

I had read, studied, written and typed until I could hardly see straight when I finally headed to dinner. I was starving because I had already missed lunch. Cherie hadn’t been to our dorm yet but we ran into each other as I was entering the commons building. “Hey, what happened to you today? You just vanished after Language Arts.”

I pulled her aside into one of the empty chair groupings on the bottom floor of the bustling building. “Yeah, I really have to talk to you about that.” She gave me a quizzical look, as if questioning what she might have missed while sitting right next to me. I leaned in and motioned to the busy room around us as I told her, “But it’s a long conversation I’d rather have in private. Nothing was really wrong, just strange.”

“
Strange as in my kind of strange?” I inclined my head to let her know it was. Cherie’s eyes glistened with questions but she held them back. “We’ll talk tonight. I’m very intrigued.”

As we approached the cafeteria, Brent and Steve were waiting for us just outside the doors. Steve’s face lit up when he saw Cherie, but Brent’s face was calculating. A few girls walked by, yelling to Brent to call them later. I unclenched my fingers and followed Cherie to pick up my tray. We must have missed the dinner rush. The room was unusually empty and we had our pick of the tables after getting our food.

I squeezed lemon into my water as I told Brent, “I don’t want to hear it.”

His face was wooden. “I know, but I need to talk to you anyway. In private.” He subtly motioned to our friends. “I was afraid you wouldn’t talk to me if I approached you alone.”

“
You’re right, but only because I know what you’re going to

say,” I admitted. Brent ran his hand across his eyes. “Doesn’t Steve think it’s odd that you’re willing to eat with me?” I asked, swirling my straw through my water. Brent twirled his pasta around his fork. “I didn’t tell him about

your wicked throwing arm.”

“
Oh.” I took a sip of water.

“
Doesn’t Cherie think it’s weird that I’d want to eat with you? Why would she even want to hang out with me knowing what I said about her?” He asked before taking a bite.

I didn’t tell her either,” I confessed putting my napkin in my lap and smoothing it down.

A smile curled on his face. “I see.”

“
You see what?”

“
More than you probably want me to.”

“
You two look cozy,” Cherie said. I hadn’t realized how close I had moved toward him while we were talking, and I scooted away from him. “What are you two whispering about over there?”

I’ve always thought fast on my feet and I smoothly lied. “I was asking Brent how Gifted and Talented P.E. went.”

Brent smiled into his napkin. “Nice,” he muttered under his breath. He raised his voice so our friends could hear as his face drew into a painful grimace. “Torture! How was remedial P.E., Yara?”

“
Um . . . better than torturous. So . . . good, I guess.”

The conversation was soon filled from all three of them detailing the horror of how Mr. Molter, the cross-country coach, had pushed the runners beyond what they thought possible.

“
So, why don’t you join the team?” Brent asked, only half-joking.

“
Besides the fact you three make it sound like so much fun?” I paused for comedic timing before answering honesty. “I never really thought of it as an option.”

“
Why?”

“
I’m not a very fast runner,” I said.

“
Have you ever heard the expression ‘slow and steady wins the race’?”

I laughed. “I have, but I’ve actually found that statement to be false. I’ve raced a hare.” I motioned toward Cherie. “And the tortoise” I pointed to myself. “Always comes in last.”

“
So are you on
any
sports teams?” Brent asked, pushing around the vegetables on his plate with a fork.

“
I have found that most teams appreciate my lack of membership. I do love sports, but I’m not a practicing participant

of organized sports.”

“
Organized sports? Is that similar to organized religion?”

“
Hey, I won’t question your beliefs if you don’t question mine, all right?”

“
Okay,” he laughed, raising his hands in defeat.

“
And it may be totally lame, but I’m actually liking Social Dance.”

Brent eyed me carefully. “Well, not totally
lame
, but—”

I threw my napkin at him. “Shut up!”

“
Temper, temper,” he chided, lifting his eyebrows with a smile.

I pointedly moved my chair closer to Cherie and talked to her through the rest of dinner.

****

On the way back to our dorm, Brent walked slowly beside me, while Steve and Cherie hurried ahead. The space between Brent and I was almost five feet wide; people probably wouldn’t even guess we were technically together. A tense silence crackled between us and it was clawing angrily at my nerves.

Brent started to snicker and I turned to see what was so funny. “To think you couldn’t even get through a single meal without throwing something at me.”

I knew he was baiting me but this time I refused to get tangled in the hook. “So let’s hear the speech I’m sure you’ve prepared.”

Brent put his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked on his heels. “You need to learn to control your astral projection.”

I brought my fingers to his lips, enjoying for a split second the feeling of his breath on my skin. “Shh. Not out here, someone might hear.” Grabbing his arm, I dragged him into a dark alcove in the stone wall for some privacy.

“
If you wanted to get me alone, you only had to ask,” he said with a wink.

“
I just couldn’t control myself,” I deadpanned, letting go of his arm. “I just don’t want anyone to overhear this conversation.”

Brent took a few steps back and rested his shoulder against the wall farthest from me. “I’m sure this is all a little bit startling to you, but you do need some help. It’ll be better than you floundering around alone in this.”

“
Why?” I asked, fidgeting with the buttonhole on my sweater.

“
There is so much to tell you . . .” His voice trailed off, his head cocked to the side, listening. “Someone’s coming.” In two large steps he was very close to me again. His citrusy musk cologne enveloped me, and my spine melted as I inhaled his scent deeper.

It was a good thing I was against the wall; it was keeping me up.

“
Are you okay?” He asked with a half smile. “You look , almost meek. Is my nearness affecting you?”

“
Hardly,” I scoffed, pushing him away. I turned my head, breathing in non-Brent scented air until my head cleared.

“
Brent, is that you?”

Brent spun, his body rigid, his arm snaking around me. He made a show of wiping his mouth, trying to look sheepish, like we had just been making out while drawing me close.

“
I didn’t see you swimming laps at practice.”