Page 57 of Gifted

Ben grunts. “Do you ladies ever talk about anything besides clothes and boys?”

“What else is there?” Laura teases.

“Whatever. So Rebecca, what’s the deal with you and Connor Fortuna? We’ve noticed you spending a lot of time with him lately.”

I shrug, following them from our suite. “Nothing.”

“Really...”

“We like to hang out, that’s all. With Sara and Matthew together, it’s kind of inevitable.”

“He’s cute,” Laura says as we walk down the hall. “I don’t think either of us would object.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks, mom and dad.”

In the dining hall, Ben and Laura bristle as we approach our table for breakfast.

“Great. Just when we thought you finally left,” Ben mutters.

I follow his gaze to a guy slouched in the typically empty chair. He must be the invisible fourth roommate everyone complains about. I’d begun to expect a ghost and take the seat beside him, careful not to make contact. He doesn’t acknowledge me openly, though I sense a few glances in my direction. Not surprising. He probably has questions about me as well.

Okay, so he’s definitely not a ghost. I try to ignore his presence, but it’s hard with the odd butterflies in my stomach. He’s better looking than I imagined, alluring even, with his dark mystery and careless danger. Usually not my type for sure. I like nice boys. The more conscientious and respectful the better. I like stability. Cuddling. This boy never cuddled a day in his life, but I can still look.

He shifts in his chair, and I steal another look, this time catching his eyes. Beautiful. Breathtaking, really. Shit. My heart hammers in my chest, and I quickly glance back at my plate. It’s official. I’ve lost my mind.

“So, where you been, buddy?” Ben asks. “We haven’t even seen you since that dramatic gymnasium display. You’re looking better.”

“And you look like the same idiot as always,” the stranger mutters.

“And you’re as hilarious as always.”

“You know I live to amuse you.”

The animosity between the two men surprises me. It seems so personal.

His leg brushes mine, and he flinches. I stiffen at his insulting reaction. I get that I’m no supermodel like Laura, but an outrightflinch? I hardly think incidental contact warrants disinfectant. Jerk.

My blood heats further when he shoves his chair back and leaves without a word.

“Freak,” Ben mumbles.

“Wow. Was that for me?” I ask, and Laura shakes her head.

“Don’t worry. It’s not you. He does stuff like that all the time. It’s the drugs.”

I stare after him. “Don’t they try to help him?”

“He’s been here forever,” Christopher says. “Longer than all of us. I’m sure if they could’ve done something, they would have by now.”

“Maybe we could talk about something else for once?” Ben says. “Who wants to play pool tonight? I got one of the tables.”

The day never improves from that odd breakfast encounter, and by the end of dinner, I seriously consider joining my friends just to distract myself. But I suck at pool, and my head still pounds as it has since my alarm first screamed at me. I make my way back to the suite and bask in the relief of solitude. That is, until the confusing, disturbing compulsion to stop before my phantom roommate’s door sweeps through me. I must be a masochist or something. He’s repulsed by my very existence, and I reciprocate by obsessing like a ten-year-old. I grunt and force myself toward my own room. I just need sleep and a strong pain reliever.

His door creaks open behind me, and I spin back like an idiot. He freezes when he sees me, probably annoyed by my presence. Awesome, Rebecca.

“You’re here,” I blurt out, proving I’m even more of an idiot than I thought.

“Yeah, so are you. Shouldn’t you be out with the others?”

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