Page 143 of Burning Embers

Abbie has a crush on Paul.

And so on and so on.

I never really understood the point of such a term before. What does it mean to have a crush on someone? Why do people even refer to it as such? Couldn’t there be other, more potent words in the English dictionary to describe such an emotion?

Yet, whenever I stare at Isabella Martin, I finally understand the meaning of such a crude term.

There’s a heavy weight on my chest, and it’s growing in size every damn day. The pressure cuts off my air supply until all I can do is suck in ragged breaths. That pressure… Is that what it means to have a crush on someone?

Panic claws at my guts, even as zings of excitement sizzle along my nerves.

When did these feelings even develop? I try to think back to the first moment I saw the golden-haired beauty but remember only feeling growing irritation and annoyance. Most women like her don’t give me the time of day. I’m too nerdy, too cold, too strange to be taken seriously. They see me only as someone they can use to copy test answers off of.

But not Izzy.

I glance inconspicuously at the girl out of the corner of my eye as she takes notes, her brows knitted in concentration and her pink lips pursed. I should be paying attention to the teacher droning on and on and on, but I’m not. I can’t. It seems I’m incapable of tearing my gaze away from the enchanting beauty when she’s in the vicinity.

Science is my easiest subject by far, so I know I won’t miss anything by zoning out this class. Besides, the only competition I have is from the blond-haired idiot sitting a little bit behind me—Ethan.

And heaven only knows Ethan isn’t paying a lick of attention to the teacher either.

More than once, I’ve seen him and his brother watching Isabella with a predatory lethality, a keen intensity, that makes my hackles rise. I don’t know what it is about the two brothers that twists my stomach into knots…

Honestly, it’s not just them, though admitting that even to myself makes me feel insane. A lot of these students give me the creeps. Ethan and Emery, for starters, but also their friends Reid and Ashton. Desiree and her crew. Kain.

I begin to tap the edge of my pencil against the black countertop as I once again glance at Isabella.

Izzy.

My heart pounds against my breastbone the longer I study her.

God, how could I have been so stupid?

I’m not the type of guy to develop crushes on pretty females.

And I’m certainly not the type of guy to use my powers out in the open.

I divert my attention away from her profile and study my hand, my knuckles bleached white from how tightly I grip the pencil.

What exactly did Izzy see?

She was halfway unconscious—and certainly delirious—so I’m hopeful she dismissed everything that happened as a product of her imagination.

But what if she didn’t?

What if she demands answers?

What will I tell her?

My mother has always told me to keep my gifts a secret. And that’s how she referred to them—as gifts.

“No one can ever know what you do, baby boy,”she would say, her eyes wide and frantic in her oval face.“They’ll take you away from me.”

So I kept my mouth shut and refused to befriend anyone in this godforsaken town. It was the only way I could protect myself.

But Izzy’s a drop of ink in water, spreading quickly and consuming everything in its path.

I’m sure there’s a name for what I am and what I can do, but my research has proved inconclusive. Maybe I’m a superhero who was bitten by a radioactive spider. Or maybe I’m a wizard just waiting for his acceptance into Hogwarts. Hell, I could even be a vampire who somehow missed the memo that I’m supposed to sparkle in the sunlight.

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