Katherine and I sat at the kitchen table talking long after Rachel left. At first we stared at each other, but after a few minutes she broke the silence with the question that was on both our minds.
"What the hell?"
"I know, I was there."
"What did you do to her?"
"What makes you think it was me?" She gave me one of her cut-the-crap looks and I could feel the guilt in my expression. "Okay, yeah, but don't ask me what I did."
"Too late. I felt it, Thomas."
"Felt what?"
"You know how the wind pushes your car when someone passes you at like a thousand miles an hour? A little like that, but sexy."
"Is that supposed to make sense?"
"Shut up. What did it feel like to you?"
I shrugged, thought about it for a few minutes, and described as much of the event as I could recall.
"So some kind of mind control?" Katherine asked.
"Hardly," I scoffed. "Miss Gold said I could influence people but I didn't give her any orders."
"You told her to trust you," she reminded me.
"Yeah I did. Go clean the apartment."
Katherine's eyebrows shot up, "Excuse me?"
"Just testing."
"Smartass." She swiped at me and missed.
"Haven't you been telling me it doesn't work that way? You said you're in full control, did something happen to change your mind?"
"No," she shook her head, "but I know what's going on underneath, Rachel doesn't."
"Are you really suggesting she changed her entire attitude because I touched her for ten seconds and asked nicely?" She couldn't give me a firm answer. If it was true, Katherine would have to admit she had less control than she wanted me to believe, and if not, we were back to square one.
"No, you're right," she admitted, "But something happened, Thomas. Something new."
I sat back in my chair, toying with the glass of water in front of me. "Miss Gold didn't say anything about this. What else did she miss?"
"She couldn't have been wrong about everything." Katherine placed her hand over mine, offering what comfort she could. "She said exactly what would happen with me, and that's been pretty accurate."
"It was different with Glory and Becca."
"The girl at the storage unit? Don't read too much into that." Katherine warned, "A woman's sex drive is usually tied to her emotional state. She could have been aroused but it wasn't enough to break through her insecurities or her guilt over the car. Maybe the comfort it gave her was more important at the time."
I understood the point she was trying to make, but it didn't give me anything to work with.
"At least Rachel won't get the police involved," she added.
"But for how long?"
"What do you mean?"
"If Rachel changed her mind because I touched her, that's going to wear off like it did with you and we'll have a whole new problem."
She mumbled a curse, but after a few seconds her face lit up. "Okay hold on, what if everything Miss Gold told you is true, but it's only part of it. What if there's something else going on?"
"Oh god please no."
"No, really! What about those lights you keep mentioning?"
I shook my head. "I told you, they're not even really there. It's probably just an optic migraine caused by the poison in my blood."
"Humor me."
"How? They're always changing. Any one of a dozen things could be causing it."
"But you aren't actually seeing them with your eyes."
"No, not really. Why is it important? They're just floating around most of the time, like—I dunno, like dust in a sunbeam."
"Fairy dust?" she smirked and I grimaced at the term.
"I thought we were talking about what happened with Rachel."
"But what if what happened to her wasn't just chemical? Let's think it through." Her excitement continued to build and she started pacing the room. "The lights started showing up after the tea, right? Then they did something different when you kissed me, and when you touched Gloria, and now Rachel."
"Right," I said, "they sort of opened up."
"Opened?" she asked with interest. Her classroom focus was on me now, absorbing and analyzing every word and gesture.
"Yeah, why?"
"You picked that word for a reason, Thomas. Not bigger, not brighter, you said they opened."
"I just mean they get... ok, sure, they expand, like an iris." I'd never thought about them in that way before. They left me with the impression that the light didn't emanate from them, but came from somewhere beyond.
"Are they open now?" She kept probing.
"Not that I—well, hang on."
I had been subconsciously editing them out when they weren't flaring like beacons in front of me. After shifting my attention, however, they slipped back into focus and floated vaguely through the space between us.
"Yeah, but they're not doing anything."
"Okay, what else? Are there colors? Wait..." she shook her head and paused, holding up one finger like she'd just had a brainstorm. "Not just colors, what about flavors, physical sensations, smells, or other impressions, like personality."
"What?"
"Humor me." She insisted again.
"Just the lights."
"Are you sure? Nothing else triggering your other senses?"
I resisted for a moment because it felt stupid, but I closed my eyes and tried to isolate anything that wasn't part of my immediate environment, "I can hear music across the hall, cars in the street."
"What else?"
"Nothing really, just your perfume."
"Thomas, I haven't worn perfume in years."
"Right," I smirked, opening my eyes, "Kath, this isn't a good time for jokes, I can smell it on you. You've been wearing it for days." She stared at me so intently that I questioned my answer. "What? You wanted me to be serious."
She began nodding to herself, still churning thoughts around in her head, then suddenly reached out and pinched my nose.
"Oww! Hey, wha..." I began, but she squeezed harder and cut me off.
"Can you still smell it?'
"I gad eben breev." I answered.
"Can. You. Smell. It." She pronounced each word distinctly like she was addressing a child.
I opened my mouth to answer—and stopped. The faint, sweet scent still lingered. She let go when I nodded and began pacing.
"Okay, that means you're picking up on something, but your brain doesn't know how to decode it, so it's interpreting it as other kinds of stimulus."
"How the hell do you know that?"
She stopped and shook her head yet again, "I don't, but I think it's a good guess. Professor Crane has been talking about synesthesia in class."
"He listens to industrial music?" I asked, and she hit me.
"Not the band, you idiot. Babies are born with a bunch of extra wiring in the brain that most of us grow out of, but some don't, and those people can see smells, or certain words have personalities, or colors have—"
"I know what synesthesia is," I said, rubbing my arm, " I was trying to be funny."
"Keep trying. My point is the part of their brain that's getting these signals just does its best to read them, even though it's not equipped for it."
"And you think that's what this is?"
She shrugged, "How would I know? But you're not hallucinating, and as far as I can tell you aren't crazy. You say you're seeing things that aren't there. What if they are there, and whatever that tea did to you woke up a—a new sense? More than one? At first it was just white noise, but your brain is beginning to translate it into things it can understand."
"That's kind of farfetched, isn't it?"
"So is being chronically addicted to kissing you." She took my hand. "It fits, Thomas, and if my guess is even a little close it gives you more to work with. Maybe we can figure this out."
"If you're right," I said, a little annoyed, "you have a better handle on this than I do, maybe you should be the one with the fairy family tree."
She giggled, "No way, I'm not as nice as you are." She went up on her tiptoes and kissed me then let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"I have to assume you were going somewhere with all of this," I said when she returned to her seat.
"I was, actually. I was going to ask if the lights looked different when you're around different people, but now I'm pretty sure the answer is yes."
"How—?" I began to ask, but she interrupted.
"You said they're around all the time but they keep changing. They react to people, and even more when you affect them. Best guess is that you're detecting some ambient, nonphysical trait, maybe neural activity, I don't know, but if they're real and you can see them, I think it's likely that you're interacting with them."
I recalled the distinctly different patterns when Katherine and Rachel were arguing. I'd been thinking of those lights as a part of me, but the incandescent flashes when I kissed Katherine, the fireworks around Glory, Rachel's bright flares, even the hot red sparks during the supermarket brawl, began to make a vague sort of sense. I ran a hand through my hair as I weighed the implications.
"Okay, let's say you're right," I said, "Any ideas what I'm supposed to do with it?"
"Figuring out how to use fairy dust is all on you."
"It's not fairy dust."
"You use your words, I'll use mine," she said flatly. "What are they doing now?"
"Nothing. Kind of bobbing around in space, mostly around the edges, like a vignette."
"Okay, that could mean a lot of things, right?" She argued. "Maybe they're off to the side because they're less important, or less powerful, or quieter, or secondary. There might be no spacial relationship at all."
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" I asked.
"Psychology 101, bury your preconceptions. The shortest distance between two points is rarely a straight line. I don't get credit for that, it's a quote from Professor Crane."
"The synesthesia guy," I said, and she nodded. "That actually helps," I said, "but I don't know where to start."
"Can you start by repeating what happened with Rachel?"
"She's gone." I gestured toward the door.
"I'm still here." Katherine cocked her head to one side and waved at me.
"No way."
"Why not?" she persisted. "You have to kiss me now regardless, and you aren't sending up fireworks every single time you touch me anymore, so I'm getting used to whatever it is. What could it hurt?"
The flickering motes edged inward, gathering around Katherine, pulsing slightly. "Did you see what happened to Rachel?" I asked, pointing toward the door.
"Yes, and she was way happier leaving than she was coming in. Thomas, seriously, how else are you going to figure it out? Test it on strangers?"
"And what if it turns out it's permanent?"
Her expression went dry with disappointment. "Thomas, as far as either of us can tell, you made Gloria horny from a kiss on the cheek and calmed Rachel down when she was pissed enough to pull a gun on you. Horny and calm are my new normal, so I don't see any real risk." She grinned and squeezed my hand. "If you're going to get through this you have to control it right?"
"Control what?" I sighed, frustrated, "It's a drug that I can't shut off. It's all or nothing. How can I get a grip on something like that?"
She leaned forward and kissed my neck. "We need to find the pieces you're missing." The corners of Katherine's mouth turned up in a familiar, teasing grin. "If the worst happens, you'll have to invest in a vibrator since you refuse to give me satisfaction."
I didn't relent right away, but she was persistent and convincing. Sometime between dinner and sleep we finally stood facing each other awkwardly in my living room.
"What did you do next?" she asked as we tried to recreate the scenario.
"Nothing, I just looked at Rachel and the lights showed up, then I told her to trust me." My adrenaline had also been spiking, but I couldn't reproduce those intense emotions on a whim.
"So do that, but focus on the details, what was your part in it? What did you see? Then try to do the same thing with me."
"Okay, here goes." I shook myself, took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "Trust me."
We stared at each other for several uneventful seconds before she burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," she breathed, "it feels silly."
"It is silly," I grumbled, "This was your idea."
"Wait," she held up a hand until she got herself under control, "Okay I'm ready, try again."
Our eyes locked and "Katherine" was all I got out before she started giggling.
"You're not making this easier," I told her. She had a contagious laugh, and my frustration was the only reason I didn't join in. When she calmed down she insisted we try once more. I took her by the shoulders and stared into her, pouring sincerity into my expression to keep her from breaking down again. She stared back, smiling softly, her cheeks flushing, her lips parting slightly, just like Rachel's had.
"Katherine..."
Surprise cut off any words that might have followed. Almost before I could register it, the lights came into focus and widened, followed by that twisting pressure echoing from the back of my mind. The pale circles flared. A surge of thought rushed forward.
"Oh, my g—!" Katherine wailed as her eyes went wide and she dropped to her knees.
"Katherine?" I called out, kneeling with her, holding her arms, "What happened? What's going on?" She gasped, gripping my arms tightly, arching her back. Her muscles went rigid, and she shook so violently she might have been having a seizure. "Katherine!" I didn't know what to do. I was back in her dorm, helpless, and Miss Gold wasn't coming to save her this time. Her breath caught for several seconds, then she cried out and went limp, breathing heavily, her eyes closed.
"Are you okay? Kath? What happened? Kath?" I shook her gently and she gazed up at me in wonder, her smile beatific.
"Amazing." She breathed, trembling, and held me tight for a long time.