expected, the pages in my file are boring, basically showing my transcripts from my last school, my current grades, my extracurricular activities and all the usual stuff. I’m not interested in any of that. I am interested in the Annoyance. Hovering over the second file, I glance at the sparse notes. Lo is a C student. No surprise—I could have called that just from his don’t-care attitude. Did four sports at his last school including swimming and soccer, and is a Junior State Surf Champion. No surprise there, either. I just don’t get why he’s here and why he had transferred to Dover in the middle of his junior year, from Hawaii of all places.
A note in red on a yellow Post-it catches my attention on the corner of the manila folder. The words Under Observation are underlined several times. It’s stuck above a newspaper clipping. I almost lose hold of the glimmer at the horrific mangled photo of a boat. Nearly his whole family was killed in a sailing accident during a freak storm. His foster father survived but is on life support in some private hospital in Australia, and it appears that Lo was sent here to live with his biological mother, his only remaining family.
A pang of pity spirals its way through me, becoming more intense as it touches my glimmer-self, so much so that it ripples outward. Of their own volition, my eyes turn to the boy sitting in the waiting room outside and connect with a pair of liquid blue ones. He’s staring right at me.
I dissipate in an instant, broken apart by the fierce vulnerability in that look. Or maybe he looks that way because of what I’ve just read. Either way, I feel guilty for my spying even though he couldn’t possibly know what I’d been doing. There’s no way he or any other human would be able to see anything—glimmers are invisible, undetectable to human eyes. Only the Aquarathi—my people—can sense a glimmer, not humans. And Lo is not one of us. If he were, I would know him in an instant.
As an Aquarathi heir, my blood commands any of my kind to declare themselves to me, and it isn’t like they have control over doing so; their bodies respond. It’s complicated to explain, but we work in the same way that water bonds to water. A single drop is but a part of the whole.
Principal Cano’s voice snaps me back to reality.
“Sorry, sir?” I say, momentarily disoriented.
“He asked if you could send Mr. Seavon in on your way back to class?” Mrs. Leland, who is standing next to him, has picked up Lo’s file.
At my blank stare, Mrs. Leland gently clarifies. “Lotharius Seavon. The boy in the waiting room whom you were speaking to earlier.”
Lotharius? I nearly giggle out loud but compose myself. We do live in California, after all, where people name their kids after colors and adverbs and feelings. There’s even a kid called Happy on the surf team at Dover. Lotharius is tamer than most. And for some reason, it suits him, probably more so than “Lo” does. Maybe it’s his exotic looks, but “Max” or “Tony” just wouldn’t seem fitting.
“Oh, of course,” I say just as Mrs. Leland hands me another pile of college brochures. “Is he new here?” I can’t help myself but after seeing Lo’s file on the desk and having him brag earlier that he was a student, I have to know for sure.
“Yes, today is his first day, and he’s a junior like you.” She stares at me with a thoughtful look, tipping her little bird head to the side. “Actually, Ms. Marin, perhaps you could help to show Mr. Seavon around at lunch. Help him get his bearings a bit.” I want to kick myself in the teeth for even asking about Lo...now I’m going to be stuck with the annoying creature. I make a mental note to try to fail my next English exam just get my name off Cano’s “promising students” list, but with my luck, I’ll get hauled in twice as often.
I smile graciously through my gnashed teeth. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my world, it’s that etiquette and flawless courtesy will get you anywhere, especially as a teen. It’s as if the adults don’t expect it. “Of course,” I say sweetly. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Ms. Marin,” Principal Cano says, parting his lips in an odd grimace that barely passes for a smile. “As always, it’s been wonderful talking with you. Keep up the good work and be sure to let Mrs. Leland know if any of those—” he nods toward the brochures in my arms “—strike your fancy, and we can take it from there.” He presses a button on his desk phone and speaks into the handset just as I’m exiting the office. “Lori, we’re running a little behind. Can you readjust my schedule after Mr. Seavon? Thank you.”
Outside, Lo stares at me with the ever-present smirk on his face. His eyes, so vulnerable before, are now unreadable. The furrow speeds across my brow and is gone before I can process why his moodiness is even a blip on my radar. I don’t care.
A twinge of something slices through me as I think of all the tragedy in his life, but I’m not here to fix anyone, especially boys who obviously don’t want to be fixed. And I’m sure he’d be pissed if he knew that I’d looked at his file.
Guilt stabs me and I stare at him, inexplicably annoyed. “So...after you’re done, I have to, um, show you around later.”
Lo laughs, the sound of it rich and deep, and crinkling the outer corners of his eyes. The smile softens his entire face, transforming it from sharp to almost pleasant. I pretend not to notice. “Whoa, try not to sound so ecstatic! New-kid babysitter, the job you’ve always wanted.”
I can’t help but return the smile at his sarcastic comment. “Well, I don’t like to boast but they do call me the new-kid whisperer.”
“That must be pretty special.”
“So special,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll.
As we stare at each other with tentative smiles on our faces and laughter in our eyes, something strange flowers in the middle of my chest. It feels like a glimmer, only more tangible with its butterfly touches extending along my arms and legs, as if everything inside of me is responding to someone else’s glimmer call.
It’s not like I haven’t crushed on boys before, but this feels different than any of the other times. The unfamiliar feeling is climbing into my neck and making my blood race. I’m breathless and scared, but still want to sink feetfirst into it, letting it fill me up. For a second, I wonder if this is what Jenna feels whenever she talks about the butterflies she gets with Sawyer.
I’ve never had a real boyfriend, and I’ve definitely never been in love—it’s almost impossible for an Aquarathi to feel a connection with a human the same way we do with one of our own kind. It’s not an abomination or unnatural or anything outmoded like that; it’s just weird, like two pieces working fine together but not really perfectly matched.
“So what are you here for?” I say into the suddenly weighted silence stretching between us. “Orientation?”
A wicked grin. “Nope. Had that last week.”
“So you’re here voluntarily because...?”
“Not voluntarily. Detention,” he says with a wink.
“On your first day?” I gasp, shaking my head at his cavalier expression but struggling not to burst out laughing. There’s something about him that is so irritating yet appealing at the same time. It’s exasperating. Lo stands, swinging his backpack to his shoulder. He’s far taller than I expected, but then again I was practically immersed in water the first time we met. I fight the urge to step back at his sudden nearness and the smell of salt that I can almost taste on my tongue. “So what’d you do?”
