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Letters floated around, stinging in my head - letters formed words formed sentences formed paragraphs formed letters, unsent to old young people. I could never articulate myself well - those were parts of people who could have been me - I preferred to send notes and letters. My past was littered with notebooks - with the things I'd sent or merely intended to send. I'd written letters to real people, to fictional people - to adults and peers, to people I loved and people I hated. Sometimes they got me in trouble; that's when they took away my books - and sometimes they broke my heart with their ridiculous ideals of love that could never be.
And it seemed that's all I looked for now - ridiculous ideals.
I felt obligated, somehow, to apologize for past actions. I wanted to heal it, make it better - to fix the past that couldn't be fixed, actions of so long ago. And Paige was not the girl I'd hurt; she wasn't any of the girls I'd envied - she was only one girl in this day, who I hadn't ever really truly harmed or scarred as I had those others - but she served as adequate representation.
And with all the things I'd written lately, all these things I'd sent - to Ms. Frost, to Jono - well, not really - I wanted to do this. It was wholly appropriate.
We both cried. Remember that, back at the movie we all saw right after I came? I looked over at the end and saw you crying, too. So was I.
I wish I could express myself better verbally. Pen and paper tends to come easier than speaking sometimes, when that emotion strangles me. It's hard living with this power, yes, but I'm not asking for pity.
I can't control what goes on in my head. If that bizarre mechanism decides I feel some certain way, I cannot stop that. And I don't understand why that part of me would choose to adhere to someone already spoken for, who likely doesn't return my sentiments. Why, some wonder, have my emotions pointed to Jono, just as yours have? I can't explain that. I don't understand the way the mind works.
I could not send that. I had to find the words within me that might convey my true emotions, but all words seemed inadequate. There was nothing I could say to her. If I could just *show* her what I meant - if I could pinpoint these specific desires that were so necessary: the need, the hope, the love … and if I could find her, I might know how to do that empathically.
My mind and heart were open, the energies flowing freely. I felt people around school and just beyond. Paige was not in her room studying - my power directed me downstairs and outside - beyond the walls to the biosphere. I entered the enclosure warily, not wanting any further accidents such as this morning's. Sunlight flooded the crafted wilderness, filtered through the glass dome and painting all the foliage in hues too intense to exist in a dimmer environment. The soothing rays beat kindly on my shoulders and face, heat welcome after the interior chill of the Academy and my room.
I could sense her just through the trees ahead, could hear a single repeated thwok echoing in a staccato rhythm. I was only slightly worried about the incessant thwok-ing, but figured she wasn't in any danger. I sensed her just beyond a thick cluster of trees, and I headed into them. Through an opening in the branches, I saw that she had found a tennis ball and was slamming it against the brick face of the building repeatedly with a tennis racket. Though she didn't look it, her emotions were plainly angry with something, or at the very least annoyed. I didn't really want to bother her now. I couldn't - she would just get angrier with me, because I'd tried to do this, and she didn't like me, or any of several other reasons. It would be best to just go - just get out of here before I contaminated her presence with my idiocy.
I pushed ahead through the branches, suffering only a few scrapes as I did so. I ran ahead, not caring whether or not he was behind me - and feeling particularly silly. Once inside, I began walking - just fast enough not to look incredibly stupid.
I had the full intention of wasting several precious hours in front of the television, but found that the set was already on, its blue glare flickering aimlessly in the late afternoon dimness that barely shone through curtained windows. Nobody, however, occupied the room, so I picked up the remote and changed the channel.
"I was watching that," a muffled voice informed me.
I turned, remote still in hand, towards the sound of the voice. "Alison?"
A blanket on the couch bobbed, the vague form beneath it nodding.
I flopped into a chair across the room, glad it was only her and not - not one of the others. "What'cha watchin'?"
"Kmbmmlib," the even cloudier voice responded slurrily.
I shrugged and asked if I could change the channel.
"Mm," she responded.
Poor girl. She was always sick. I changed the channel.
"Hey!" Alison protested loudly.
I muted the TV. "What? I am bored out of my skull. There is nothing to do. Cassidy's shopping on the Internet, so I can't even read my mail. I don't fell like the piano, and my CDs feel old, and there's no way I'm going to even attempt conversation with anyone else; I'll fall flat on my face no matter who I talk to. I tried writing, but even that comes out with no plot. My poetry sounds like some odd hybrid of Tori and Emily Dickinson, the latter thanks to Frost's attempt to bridge this rift between us through literature. She's busy, too, so even if I wanted to, I couldn't request a lesson - and I don't want to. You'd think," I added after a careful pause, "that being here would be infinitely more interesting." I sighed and continued, whether she was listening or not. "I mean, we're supposed to be superheroes in training, right? There should always be something going on. Not that I want any miscellaneous villains to show up at our door or anyting, but Light, I'm so sick of being cooped up in here."
The blanket rustled and Alison's still slightly greenish head emerged. "Jubilee said something about they're going somewhere tonight. Go talk to her if you're so bored. I'm sick, and I'm watching Sam and Al. I haven't seen it before, which is a miracle, and I'd like to see the rest." She waved me away after I turned the channel back to Sci-Fi.
I reluctantly left, and thought - out. I could certainly go out, even if I wasn't sure where we were going or what we were doing. It was so much easier to go out when someone else decided what we were doing instead of leaving the decisions to me, because I could never decide.
I wondered if Jubilee had meant to ask me if I'd like to come along, or at least mention that night's plans to me. It would be horribly rude to just invite myself, particularly if she didn't want me along. Still, it wasn't as though I actually belonged, and I would wind up feeling like an extra wheel anyhow. So, I resolved, I might as well make the best of it. The worst that could happen would be that I would have to stay here all night, and even then I could find a decent chatroom to hang out in - hopefully.
"DIE! DIE YOU EVIL SCUM!"
My search for Jubilee was apparently over, as her familiar voice rang through the air - though I couldn't imagine who she'd wish death upon so fervently - besides Monet, and she likely wouldn't lower herself to Jubilee's level.
I entered the next room to find her shoving Angelo away - both had been seated before a television, apparently playing video games.
"Hey," I greeted halfheartedly, and willed the odd sound in the back of my head to be quiet, it was Angelo, of all people, and I was not interested in him; I was interested in Jono, and would remain so even if that interest was not reciprocated.
Jubilee didn't respond, intent on her video game.
Instead, Angelo looked up, grinning like a madman. "Back for more?"
I blinked, but ignored his remark and seated myself on the floor, approaching Jubilee again. "So what's up?" I asked.
"Nothin'," she answered. She apparently didn't want to talk to me, so I just got to the point and kept talking. "So, you guys are going out tonight? Where you going?"
Angelo grinned at me. "You wanna come?"
Of course I wanted to come, that was why I was here - but I certainly didn't want to be associated as going with him, in particular. I wanted to go with the group. "Yeah, I guess - where, and who's going?"
"Uhh …" Jubilee answered just as the TV screen flashed and her character died for the last time. She turned, then, and addressed me. "Goin' up to town," she explained. "There's this swing place there, had an ad in the paper, cheap tonight. So far who's goin's me and Ev, and Ange, and no way's M comin', and I dunno about Paige or Jono 'cause Jono's like gone - "
"Gone?" I heard myself say.
"Eh …" she floundered, scanning the ceiling. I could nearly hear her silently chastising herself for even mentioning Jono's absence. "Uh, yeah," she concluded. "He'll be back, don't worry - he does this. Y'know."
Sure. And he certainly wouldn't go out - he was just not that sort of person.
"You still wanna go?" Jubilee asked hopefully.
Well, Jono wasn't why I'd wanted to go in the first place, so why should it matter whether or not he was there? His presence or lack thereof simply wasn't a real deciding factor. It would be even better, I decided, if he wasn't there, because I did not want to be anywhere near him after what he'd done.
"It'll be fun," Jubilee added. "We're leavin' at 6. If you wanna come I think we're stuck with the van - y'know, the beat up one - 'cause it's already like wrecked and stuff and Frosty thinks we'll like trash her car."
"I'm driving," Angelo added.
Weren't they trying to convince me to go with? It didn't matter, though, my mind was made up. I wasn't about to stay in this place a minute longer, Jono or no Jono.
A few hours later, I arrived in the garage, where Jubilee, Everett, and Angelo were gathered, the latter grinning in the driver's seat with his hands on the wheel and the last remains of a cigarette dangling disgustingly from his mouth.
Paige arrived just behind me, breathlessly apologizing for her lateness.
What was she doing here? And where was Jono? Oh, Light - I didn't think she would be coming. Didn't she want to stay with Jono?
Ev nodded. "We can't leave until Mr. Cassidy brings the keys," he explained. A good point.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. After all, Paige could be tolerable when Jono wasn't around. It was just when they were together - when he was gushing over her - that I hated her so much. And, I realized, I'd only hated her all the time because of that constant reminder of Jono, and his thoughts that weren't about me.
She smiled. "Right. I talked to him earlier; he told me to tell y'all to let me drive -"
"What?" Angelo very nearly screeched. "But I was gonna -"
"Just what he said," Paige answered, shrugging. "Oh, and Jono's coming, too, if -" She cut herself off mid-sentence and eyed me apologetically.
I made it a point to avoid her look, pretending to inspect the far wall instead. Somewhere between her gaze and mine, thoughts surfaced - thoughts I didn't want to think, images of Paige and Jono so comfortable and so close and so relaxed and so very much in -
I needed help or I thought I would very well go insane. "Be right back," I mumbled, and ducked out of the garage. I hoped Cassidy wouldn't return in the time I was gone; they might leave then ….
I ran across campus to the couch where I'd last left Alison. She had to come with, or I'd suffer some bizarre kind of mental breakdown on account of Paige's very presence.
Alison was asleep.
"Wake up!" I insisted. "Please. You have to come with. You have to. Wake up!" Before she even had a chance to respond, I turned on the TV and turned the volume up.
She groggily emerged, looking awful. "Whuddya want?"
I didn't have time for this. "You have to come," I repeated. "Paige is going. I'm going to go crazy. I can't - with her - and Jono - he's not missing, he coming, and my mind is going to like explode or something and this is bad."
"And you want me to yell at so you won't yell at Paige," she responded.
"No!" I insisted. That wasn't it at all. But wasn't it? She was going to act like my muse of common sense, my marbles, a reminder of sanity where insanity was destined to prevail. And yes - a sounding board, an aural punching bag. Someone I knew would listen and understand. "Well … maybe a little."
Wisps of reluctant emotion wafted from her as she gave in. "Fine. I'll go. When?"
"Now," I told her.
"Now?!" she echoed.
I shrugged. "They're in the garage. Paige's driving." I bolted from the room and back into the garage, where the rest of the students were piling into the old beat-up van we'd been given permission to use that evening. I joined them, noting that Jono was indeed there, sitting in the front seat beside Paige, though Angelo was now absent. I made no comment regarding either observation, but did explain, "Alison's coming. She'll be here in a few moments."
Paige shook her head. "No, she's not," she said, and indicated the far side of the garage, where Mr. Cassidy was speaking with Alison on his way out, apparently informing her that she could not participate in that evening's venture into the outside world.
"What?" I asked.
"She's sick," Jubes muttered. "So's Ange. They're not comin'."
Great. Just great.
This was so weird and beautiful - like stepping back in time, even if only by decades. I had never been one to go to dances back home, and those I had attended had never been very fun - usually a group of girls would include me in their circle, but I hardly knew them and I knew they were only being courteous - because nobody wanted to dance with them, either. And I refused to be relegated to such a level, so I would politely decline and stand around by myself, wishing I had someone - because that's always what it ultimately came down to, and there wasn't ever anyone to remind me he was there and that he cared.
I watched Jono and Paige take the floor. Though tentative, they both seemed experienced as they moved to the rhythm of the music. Other dancers spun around them, couples and individuals and groups weaving through one another, attempting unusual movements in some dizzying cadence of arms and legs and hair and time - other people floating across my line of vision, but my eyes as well my powers kept a lock solely on Paige and Jono. She was so beautiful. He had every reason to love her as much as he did - as much and more. I wanted to rip my eyes from her, to insist that I did not have to watch her so intently, as though by not looking at them together I could deny her existence and - yes, merge Jono's world with my own.
What I wouldn't give to get inside his head as he danced with her - to try and figure out what he saw in her that set her apart from me. I could match it, or at least try, and surpass it. I could be better - I could be better than myself and certainly better than Paige.
But there was no way I could cut in - they - Jono was having too much fun.
Couldn't I get in her head, for only a moment, and in that moment, feel what she did: his hands, his arms around her, his eyes looking into hers?
Of course not. I wasn't even close to attaining that kind of power. I was weak, and shallow, my gifts more of a nuisance than anything else. Frost was wrong to think they could ever really help. And even more wrong in her assumptions that the link to Jono had been making me unstable - in fact, I was worse without it, if only because I had had it, and I had tasted that kind of intimacy and now it was ripped from me.
And I'd known he'd liked it.
So why the hell was it gone now?
Paige was so pretty.
I resisted the urge to run to her and break her somehow, fought the adrenaline that demanded I let loose somewhere, somehow. Instead, I sought my guide - but Alison wasn't here, either, she was stuck at home, sick.
"I'm going to kill her," I muttered to nobody in particular. "Not right away, no, but gradually, sort of the way those awful cigarettes are going to kill Angelo."
Nobody was paying attention to me. I didn't care. This was the way things worked with me. How could I feel so miserable when the music was so happy?
"She's so pretty," I went on, still referring to Paige, of course. "Look at her. With him. I don't get it. She's … too pretty. Too clean. Too perfect and pretty. I wonder, what's wrong with me?"
"You do this," a voice explained from my left.
What? Nobody had been listening to me. What - who? I turned , caught off guard, to find Jubilee looking up at me. "You sit around and complain and stuff instead of actually doing anything. We had this conversation already, y'know - and you like, tried that stuff before, just lettin' it happen and stuff. So it didn't work. You still want him? Just go for it."
Her words sounded hollow in my ears. I was really only half paying attention; my eyes had again focused on Paige out on the dance floor. Maybe Jubilee had a point.
I pushed through the sea of crowd, casting aside each extra dancer until I reached my destination. They were so close - so real - and Jono even more beautiful than I'd ever seen him. So close - and so unreachable. I'd set her on a pedestal, and when he was with her, he became part of that unattainable vision, too high to actually address on an equal level. I was lowly scum next to them --yes, even Jono, too, now, because he was with her. And she was with him. Everything was patched up between them; I was just some girl along the way who served to strengthen their relationship. I wasn't real; I was a plastic doll for the purposes I served, and now that I was done with, I could be discarded. I wasn't supposed to care anymore; they were back together and I was out of his head -
So close - so real - like watching it live on TV -
Oh, Light - I willed myself to stop, but - to get away before I did anything stupid or harmful in this big crowd -
My feet slowly complied; I moved through Jell-O to the ladies' room, the gelatin breaking and giving way to water and air and I was running, aerodynamic, until I hit escape velocity at the bathroom door and lingered, stationary, in some twisted freefall inside the ladies' room, staring blankly at myself in the mirror.
My face wasn't red; I hadn't been crying or exhibiting any other drastic manifestation of my current emotional condition. I appeared, for all the world, relatively normal, if a bit flustered.
I vaguely sensed someone approaching before the door opened and Paige's pretty face appeared from around the corner. Again, I resisted the urges that directed me to kill her, or at least hurt her. That would make a mess.
I pretended to touch up my makeup, ignoring her as best as I could.
She applied another coat of lip gloss, stopped, looked at me in the mirror, washed her hands, glanced at me again, dried them, and then turned directly toward me, her back to the wall. "I'm - Jen, you seemed upset. Is something wrong?"
Of course there was something wrong, but I couldn't possibly tell her that, because she had no clue, and she was trying to be friends, and I shouldn't hate her, I should be nice. "Yes," I told her. "There is."
She hadn't expected me to say that. Neither had I - generally when someone asks if something's wrong, then no, it isn't, but thank you for your concern and I will be fine trying to maintain my sanity on my own.
"There is?" she echoed.
"Yes," I said. "I -" I began to explain, but found the words I'd wanted to use would not facilitate peace, when in truth I wanted this to pass easily despite my cravings for blood. "I don't want to make this a big deal," I decided, "nor do I want either of us to get mad." Of course, it was already too late for that, but the point was well-meant and well-placed.
She nodded slowly, seeking comprehension.
It occurred to me that anything I said, no matter how well-put or thought out, would have no effect. She obviously cared for him a great deal, and he for her, and I would only get in the way of their happiness. And I did want Jono to be happy. I would have preferred that he were happy with me, but he wasn't, and I would have to accept that.
After all, my happiness was trivial compared to his.
"Never mind," I concluded, "nothing's going to change." I tossed my paper towel into the trash and headed out to be miserable some more.
Paige stopped me with a delicate hand on my arm just before I pushed the door open. "This is about Jono," she stated, "isn't it."
Was it ever about anything else?
I nodded. "Yeah," I admitted.
She smiled demurely and glanced briefly at the floor before returning her eyes to mine. For the first time I saw her pretty blue eyes sparkling even in the bathroom's ugly flourescent lighting with - friendship? "I know you're not gonna believe me," she said, "but we're friends. Jono and me, I mean. I know how it looks - yeah, we were - or thought we were - somethin' once, but … " She shrugged, signifying the relationship's apparent arrival in oblivion.
She was right - I didn't believe her.
As if she were empathic herself and picked up on that, she continued. "Jen - look - ah - much as it pains me to say it, he does care about you. If you could hear the way he goes on about you - " She signed, interrupting herself so that whatever she might have said next was lost to her own mind.
I still didn't believe her. If he cared the way she said he did, why was he with her now? And why had he severed our connection?
"If you don't believe me, you can ask him yourself," she said.
"As though he would even talk to me," I muttered. He wouldn't - not with her around, and certainly not with all the other people around.
Paige's eyes unfocused on a distant dot far behind the walls of the room, her mind clearly elsewhere. She snapped back to reality a few moments later and said, "He wants to talk to you."
I felt an eyebrow raise in even greater suspicion. "So now you're linked to him."
She grinned. "Don't be silly. He's a telepath, remember?"
If an Aes Sedai had answered that way it would mean, 'Why yes, Jen, I am indeed linked to him now, very strongly and happily so, might I add.' But Paige was no Aes Sedai, and she still felt relatively honest, so I followed her out of the room and found Jono waiting just outside.
I swallowed, and the action seemed to force my heart into my stomach until it launched itself back into my chest and pulsated faster than the lively music clouding the air. "You - wanted to talk?" I asked slowly, in a very small voice.
*Well,* Jono replied, *not exactly.*
As he took my hand, I felt his emotions pouring into me, filling up my missing pieces - I looked behind me for Paige, to see what she thought of all this, but she was nowhere in sight. Still confused, in a whirlwind of motion and emotion, I somehow found myself on the dance floor, the rhythm sounding in my skull until my beating heart complied with the music's demands and fell into rhythm alongside the beat. My feet moved of their own accord, my hands tangled in Jono's; I could scarcely believe that old wish had come true.
I didn't want to concentrate on the motions, but I didn't want to step on his feet or screw up or anything. Silent reminders carried from mind to mind, and I let the music sweep me away - so I didn't care any longer about doing what looked right so long as it felt right. The song - the music ended and I returned to the real world, breathless and excited.
Just before the high of activity faded - the high of being with Jono, who apparently cared as much as he had before, as much as Paige had said he did - the next song began, its meter slow and its emotion real.
I glanced up at him, asking him without words if he wanted to continue or sit out - and he responded without words as well, his actions speaking as plainly as any thought would, as his arms pulled me closer to his body. I allowed my own arms to encircle his neck, my face against his shoulder.
We moved together, almost as one, to the lilting rhythm of the music. His hands held me - comfortingly, banishing my demons - and I could not believe this was real; I could not think of any place I'd rather be.
I wished time could stand still in that single moment. I wished it could last forever. I wished I could capture that instant and set it free when I needed hope and comfort and love.
Love?
Something like that.
