Color-Gifted (Color-Gifted, #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

During lunch my friends chat away amongst themselves, conversation subdued, but I hear nothing. My food lays untouched on my plate, my appetite missing. Just like my friends. Jerry has joined our group in what feels like a silent agreement, blending in with the rest of us without much difficulty. He is as much affected as I am. We were—are—closest to Neveah and Dwayne, and the look in his eyes as he stares dejectedly out the window is one I feel in my bones.

My breakdown last night helped alleviate some of the weight, though. It was a release I needed, and the claws around my throat aren’t squeezing quite so tightly.

In the light of day the situation seems more real, somehow. I sit in the comfortable presence of my friends, my eyes briefly flitting over them as I push around the salad on my plate. Jerry, like me, isn’t participating in the conversation, but the rest of my friends are speaking in hushed tones about something I can’t concentrate on. I watch Evan folding and unfolding a napkin absentmindedly as he watches Keene speak, and the simple fact of his body sitting next to mine is a comforting thing.

Any anxiety over him has evaporated in the face of all that we’re dealing with. Now, Neveah is what takes up most of my thoughts. Dwayne, too, but really, Neveah is number one on my mind. I know it may sound cruel, and it’s not like I don’t care about Dwanye or her dad—of course I do—it’s just that Neveah is closer to me than the others. She was the first student to witness my abilities at healing. The first person, other than Christopher, to encourage me. The one who witnessed my progress throughout these past weeks, who was there to see me grow and change.

And I was the one who witnessed her rapid improvement, too. The one who watched as she dropped her time healing a snapped fern leaf from sixty-three seconds to twenty-eight. The one who noticed how Dwayne looked at her, how his eyes followed her even when she was angry at him.

So many experiences. So many little moments, snapshots of a friendship just beginning, of a life too young and too bright to be snuffed out. No. I won’t believe it. She’s out there, somewhere. Alive.

I start to get impatient. I flip open my cell phone and check the time. 1:06 pm. And still no word from Maunekey. What the hell is he doing? He said he’d call, and it’s already past midday.

I look around at my friends one more time and then down at my barely touched lunch. There’s no use sitting here, waiting. I can’t do that. I need to do something—anything to feel like I’m helping. Anything but sitting here and trying to swallow lettuce leaves and pieces of chicken.

“Guys,” I say, and everyone looks up at me. “Let’s get out of here.”

“And go where?” Jerry asks, like there’s just no point. Like there’s nothing that can help.

Well, I won’t allow that. “Somewhere. Anywhere.”

Evan studies me for a moment, eyes slightly slanted like he’s thinking, trying to work something out. I don’t know how my stomach can knot up for two completely different reasons at the same exact time, but there you have it. It does.