The Charm (Olivia Hart and the Gifted Program Book 1)

by Alana Siegel

  I thought of my lost friendship with her, and the feeling in the pit of my stomach worsened. I dropped my eyes to the ground without saying another word. For once, Jaime didn’t pepper me with theories on abilities and Gifted families.

  It was all she talked about for the last few days. Since she couldn’t practice her Gift without there being a struggle or an issue, she researched everything she could on the internet. So far, none of her theories made sense, but she wasn’t giving up easily. I was thankful that this morning she walked quietly beside me as we walked into the building.

  Navigating my schedule in a daze, the morning slipped by. I couldn’t find Helen in the hallways before any class we shared together. She managed to glide in the door right before the bell rang every time.

  I understood that for a while I had made her feel left out, but now she was the one cutting me out of her life. She knew I was keeping secrets from her for the first time in our lives. If I wasn't going to let her in, her defense was to build up that wall between us. I had to be the one to rip it down.

  I was torn. I made a promise not to share the details of my Gift. I was supposed to learn how to master and control it. Each day was a struggle, but not being able to share the experience with Helen was the most challenging part. I missed her.

  Attempting to console myself, I thought of her supportive family. At least she had them to take care of her. I still felt my heart sink in my chest. Her family could not mend our broken friendship, and I knew that if it was tearing me up inside, Helen was feeling the same way. I vowed to think of other ways to make it up to her. I was so lonely without her.

  Sitting in Mr. Rowling’s English class, I glanced over at Helen’s desk. She texted wildly on her phone all class, but not once did my cell phone buzz with a text from her. She didn’t even look at me. I thought about Chelsea’s continued verbal abuse at my expense. The silent treatment from Helen was definitely the harsher punishment.

  I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard Mr. Rowling whimper. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses as he turned toward the board.

  Was my Gift making it difficult for him to teach? I was having a hard time focusing my attention. I took a deep breath, tried to distract myself from my petty problems, and repeated cheerful memories in my head.

  Shopping for new shoes. A pretty bouquet of flowers. An ice cream sundae. Shopping for new shoes. A pretty bouquet of flowers. An ice cream sundae.

  I focused on anything but my unhappy thoughts. It worked. Slowly, Mr. Rowling forced a smile on his face and continued with his lesson.

  “Ok, let’s take out Catcher in the Rye,” he said. As we searched our bags for our books, he took a moment to compose himself.

  When he turned to face us again, his eyes had cleared. “Today’s lesson is about character analysis. Let’s start with Holden Caulfield.” Mr. Rowling walked around to the front of his desk and sat on the edge. He cradled his own copy of the book.

  “Holden thinks of himself as a martyr. He endures pain because he believes his pain is protecting someone's innocence or defending something he believes in,” Mr. Rowling said, beginning the discussion.

  I thought about Holden fighting for his beliefs. Even with all of his personal issues with school and his brother who passed away, he decided that he had a purpose in life. He was light years ahead of me. I didn’t know what I believed in, and I certainly didn’t think I could protect anyone.

  I sighed, realizing Jaime believed the opposite. She put others' needs ahead of her own and felt it was her duty to do so. I was a disappointment to the Gifted.

  The wind crashed against the window. I could feel the cold air slipping through the cracks in the molding. My necklace felt like an ice cube against my chest. It was a bad sign. My mind raced as I tried to catch up with Mr. Rowling’s lesson.

  “In Catcher in the Rye, Holden’s actions don’t portray him as a failure. His actions are just a way for him to get attention and be recognized,” Mr. Rowling explained.

  My own life intertwined with the book in my thoughts, and I pictured Max as Holden Caulfield. It wasn’t too big a stretch. Max lost his innocence early. He was insecure and forced to be an adult at a young age. Maybe Max used his Gift to get attention.

  Somehow he always found himself competing, like the race with Jaime in gym class. He was always looking to prove his self worth. He was angry when he lost and smug when he won. Perhaps he was coming to terms with it, and just like the rest of us he was trying to gain control. We were all confused and dealing with our Gifts in different ways.

  The class got excited as the lights flickered once. It sent a chill up my spine. Something was definitely coming.

  I had never felt so unsure of my surroundings, unsure of who I was, what world I was living in, and what role I played. My confusion was overwhelming. This Gift I had inherited was only a small part of a secret world. It was hard to pretend to be average and fit in. My loneliness was enhanced without anyone to confide in. I guessed this was part of growing up. The reality was restricting, however, just like my Gift.

  Would I be able to control my Gift? Would I be able to tell the difference between a reaction to me and a reaction to my Gift? Max might be the last person I could say genuinely liked me for me, and not my Gift.

  Maybe this was a lesson about life that I had to learn on my own. I may receive more attention than I did before, but I was still so inexperienced. The realization hit me hard and fast.

  I glanced at Justin, two rows over, and I couldn’t stop my heart from giving a little thud. Nothing had changed with him. He still spent most of the day doodling on his paper, fidgeting with pieces of metal, or occasionally responding to Cliff. And somehow, that's what intrigued me. The harder I tried to use my Gift, the more his face looked twisted, like he was fighting an oncoming sneeze. It flat out annoyed me that Justin was repulsed by the mere sight of me.

  On the other hand, I felt a pull. There was something about him that shot through my veins and riled me up. I felt it the day he grabbed my hand in Biology class. I knew he did, too. I wanted more of what I felt when I was with him.

  The sudden passion and need for answers motivated me. This was a glimmer of hope in my otherwise dismal world. I had to act now. My plan was to stop by his desk after class and nonchalantly ask him if he was going to the party after the pep rally. I would say ‘great, see you there,’ and let him watch me walk away. Hopefully I would catch him before he could put his guard up. It seemed like an easy conversation. So why was I so nervous?

  I looked up at the clock. The bell would ring in forty-five seconds. I took a deep breath.

  It rang, and Justin shot out of his seat. I jumped up and ran after him. His seat was closer to the door, a clear advantage. By the time I made it to the hallway, he was already three classrooms away. Did he know I was coming?

  I cursed under my breath, wishing that I was fast like Jaime. I began fighting my way through the obstacle course of students. I pushed my way through the bodies and schoolbags. Justin turned the corner, and I ran faster. I was determined not to lose him. At top speed, I rounded the bend.

  BAM! I ran into an open locker and landed on the floor.

  I giggled to myself. So much for poise and grace. I wasn’t using my Gift, and that meant I was right back to my old, awkward self.

  As the stars cleared, I looked up to see Justin’s steely seafoam eyes looking down at me, slightly confused. He begrudgingly offered his hand. I took it, but immediately felt the guarded walls he put up. Yes, he definitely knew I was coming.

  I tried to regain my composure and stick to my plan. I smoothed my hair and skirt, and put a smile on my face. Although he didn’t visibly take a step back, I could feel him retreating. I barely felt the hum of my Gift. It was supposed to draw him in, but instead he felt farther away.

  Fearful that he might actually walk away, the words rushed out, “Oh hey, Justin. I’m glad I caught you.” His eyebrows raised in surprise ever so slightly. I took that as my cu
e to go on.

  “Are you coming to Frank’s party after the pep rally tonight?” I stood there, watching his guarded expression as he looked away from me, toward his locker. He reached in to exchange text books.

  “I didn’t plan on it.” He completely threw me off track. I stood there with my mouth open, briefly gawking at him before I snapped out of it.

  “Why wouldn’t you? What would you be doing instead?” I asked, clearly frustrated with the way the conversation was progressing. Justin never showed signs of cracking. He continued to go through his locker, like I was some annoying girl asking to copy his homework.

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll see what strikes me,” he retorted. I was stunned. Nothing was working. He looked at me from the corner of his eye. I continued to stare at him, speechless.

  Then he surprised me and said, “Meet me at the back of the school after the pep rally. That is, if you’re willing to give up precious time with your devoted suitors.” Suitors? Was he talking about the awkward stares that I've been getting from guys who passed me in the hallway? The smile that lit his face was devilish, but brilliant. It blinded me for a second. Other than giving a slight nod, I stood there. He slammed his locker shut and walked away before I could ask any more questions.

  * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen: Enchanted

  At the pep rally, I sat on the bleachers and sulked. Helen was suddenly concerned with the best stretching technique for a tight muscle in her calf and spent the whole time asking the coach for advice. It was a desperate attempt to avoid talking to me, but still remind me that she felt the wall between us.

  I needed to give her an explanation for my behavior before I permanently damaged our friendship, and I was running out of time. Unfortunately, I still hadn’t come up with anything.

  When we weren’t performing, I meticulously scanned the stands looking for Justin. Thinking about him was a distraction from the issues that were gnawing at my insides. It was giving me hope.

  All too soon the pep rally was over. I never spoke to Helen, and I never spotted Justin. Was the misery going to end? Was I ever going to catch a break?

  The pep rally had been over for twenty-three minutes. Pacing in front of the back exit to the school, I hugged my kickline jacket tighter and finally admitted that Justin didn’t come to watch me perform. It deeply upset me. Maybe he never planned on coming. I didn't understand why he would want to lead me on. My hope was dangling by a thread over a dark hole.

  I reviewed the conversation we had in front of his locker. He said to meet him near the back entrance to the school. I looked out toward the football field and realized the stands were almost empty. I kicked the rocks at my feet. Twenty-five minutes. He wasn’t coming.

  All the cars were leaving the parking lot. It was getting dark. I decided to give him another five minutes, and then I was writing off any romance or even friendship that I had conjured up in my head. I crossed my arms and leaned against the cold brick wall.

  Despite the broadcast on the radio about record heat, the temperature dipped rapidly. Something or someone was toying with the weather in Pandora.

  I looked up at the grey clouds swirling around the moon. It was a surprisingly beautiful sight. I felt the same buzz that seemed to hover over the past few days, but it had become a continuous sensation so most of the time my subconscious blocked it out.

  The sound of shuffling feet around the corner brought my attention back to earth. I tensed up, prepared to run if I didn't recognize the person headed my way. Peeking around the edge of the building, I was relieved to see that it was Justin.

  He was wearing an un-tucked, button down shirt and jeans. Both hands were in his pockets. With his eyes focused straight ahead, he walked with a purpose. His expression never changed when he saw me. I tried to mimic his detachment, but my heart started racing.

  It was hard not to watch him. Each step he took commanded my attention. Trying to calm the blood rushing through my body, I stood in my spot by the brick wall until he reached me.

  Without a friendly wave hello or even a hint of a smile, he approached me. “I guess the pep rally is over,” he noted as he glanced at the empty field across the blacktop.

  “Yup, ended half an hour ago,” I managed to respond. I was suddenly shy, feeling the way I used to, before I had a Gift.

  Perhaps he sensed my nerves. He glanced at me with his lips in the perfect straight line that he wore every day. His seafoam eyes looked sad and heavy, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was truly beautiful.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked. It was the only thing I could think of saying as my heart melted at the sight of him.

  “Let's sit on the bleachers. I don't mind this place when it's empty,” he said. He started walking down the blacktop. The janitor had turned out the lights on the field. The orange, dim, street lights reflected off the metal bleachers and made it just light enough to see the step directly in front of me. I followed Justin to the spot that was filled with fans thirty minutes ago.

  We sat down on the cold bleachers a few inches apart. I was relieved that we didn't have to sit across from each other. I wasn't sure how long I would last gazing into those eyes.

  He leaned his elbows on the row of bleachers behind us and again, I tried to mimic his relaxed motion. His actions and comments seemed smooth, calculated, and well-planned. He kept his eyes straight ahead and asked, “How does it feel to know you could use your Gift and get any guy you want in school?”

  My head snapped in his direction. I felt my cheeks burning up. I was not sure if I was embarrassed or angry that he started off the conversation with an uncomfortable topic. Either way, I was completely caught off guard by his question. Shifting my weight on the bench, I tried to pretend it didn't rattle me.

  “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just the flavor of the week,” I said, flippantly. It was his turn to give me an incredulous look. The half smile on his lips looked delicious and made me feel self-conscious. I ran my fingers through my hair and quickly looked away.

  “Oh come on. I heard about the football players and I saw the affect you had on Cliff,” he joked. I looked up at him again. His smile was warm and overwhelming, like the brilliant grin he gave me at his locker earlier that day. It was less of a heart-stopping shock this time, but just as wonderful.

  To counter his teasing I asked, “How did you become Mr. Self-Assured?”

  He seemed to appreciate my response and was silent for a few minutes as he thought about our banter. It wasn't an awkward silence. He was letting me gather my composure. I had the feeling he wanted me to stay. He wasn’t trying to scare me off, just testing the waters.

  My heart rate slowed, and I began to feel comfortable. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He was looking up at the sky. The stars appeared.

  “Do you know the constellations, Olivia?” Again, he spoke without looking at me. His voice was smooth and deep. It was intoxicating. I tried to concentrate on his question and forced myself to turn away from him.

  The sky was very black. I squinted to focus my vision and wracked my brain to remember the constellations' names. I came up empty.

  “When I was younger I knew them,” I said, still gazing upward.

  “You see the stars that look like a stick-figure archer drawing its bow?” He asked. I followed his hand to the group of stars lying low in the south.

  “That is the constellation of Ikos,” he explained. Ikos didn’t sound like any of the constellations I had heard before, but maybe I hadn’t paid attention when we went to the planetarium in middle school.

  He dropped his hand and his arm brushed mine. “The constellation over there that looks like a man wearing lion skin and holding a club. That is Kynikos,” he continued. This time I turned to look at him. It had been a long time since I studied the stars, but I was confident that he was describing the constellation for Hercules.

  The information finally clicked into place. “These c
onstellations and stories are about the Gifted. How do you know about them?” I asked.

  With a crooked smile he pulled his gaze from the stars and said, “As a kid, I was told the legends behind each Gifted family as bedtime stories.” I gave him a small smile and nodded my head. It was the first personal comment he made all night.

  He went on to describe the stories behind each constellation. “You see the triangle of stars overhead? Those represent the Hadeans.” He looked over to make sure I was following where he was pointing. I obeyed, and I listened with genuine interest, asking him questions and enjoying his knowledge on the Gifted, even if they were in the form of bedtime stories.

  I was begging to learn more, and he was happy to share it with me. As the night went on, the sky grew darker and more stars appeared.

  “Do you see the constellation that looks like a man with a sword in one hand and a severed head in the other hand? That’s Horus.” Justin’s attention lingered on this constellation for a minute, like he was particularly proud of this constellation. I gave him a moment of silence and didn’t press the topic.

  When he seemed ready to move on, he turned to face me. There was a wistful look in his eyes. He said, “Elste is the constellation that represents fairness and balance. The stars are faint, but one of the oldest and most important to life’s balance.” He pointed to a collection of stars.

  I wanted to ask more, but he seemed entranced by this constellation. I concentrated on the grouping and felt a pull from my center. The sensation awakened my Gift and for a minute I thought its hum would scare Justin away.

  My teeth began chattering, and it broke the spell around us. He pulled his gaze away from the stars and toward me. The dim street light created an orange glow on his face. He looked concerned and unsure what he should do.

  I sat there trying to stop my teeth from chattering. I did not want this moment to end.