Novel-novel oleh Chelsi McPherson

ROGER The other kids at school noticed we were different too, though they couldn't have said exactly how. We were faster in gym class, stronger than we should be. Once, in fourth grade, Tommy Henderson tried to bully Ava, pushing her down on the playground. I'd been on the other side of the school, but I felt her fear and anger like it was my own. I was there in seconds, moving faster than I'd ever moved before, and when I grabbed Tommy's arm to pull him away, he yelped in pain. "Freak!" he'd shouted, cradling his arm. "You're both freaks!" The teacher on duty had separated us, but she'd looked at me strangely, like she was seeing something she didn't want to acknowledge. After that, the other kids gave us a wide berth. We didn't mind. We had each other, and that was all that mattered. Our parents noticed too. I'd catch my mom watching me with this mixture of pride and sadness, like she was mourning something that hadn't happened yet. Ava's parents were the same. Sometimes, w

ROGER My ninth birthday was on a Saturday in June, and Ava showed up at my house at seven in the morning, practically vibrating with excitement. "Come on, come on, come on!" she urged, tugging at my hand before I'd even finished my birthday pancakes. "I have something to show you!" My parents exchanged amused glances but let her drag me away, calling after us to be back by lunch. We ran through the woods, Ava leading the way down paths I didn't recognize, going deeper than we usually ventured. The trees grew thicker here, their canopy blocking out most of the sunlight and creating a green-tinted twilight even in the middle of the morning. "Where are we going?" I asked, but she just grinned over her shoulder and kept running. Finally, we burst into a clearing I'd never seen before. In the center stood a massive boulder, easily twice as tall as my dad, with a flat top that made it look almost like a throne. Wildflowers grew in a riot of color around its base—purple and yellow

ROGER **THE YEARS BETWEEN** The summer we turned eight, we were inseparable. Our parents joked that we were joined at the hip, that they should just build a bridge between our houses to save us the trouble of the five-minute walk through the woods that separated our backyards. Those woods became our kingdom. I remember the day Ava decided to teach me how to climb the old oak tree that stood in the center of our usual meeting spot. It was massive, its trunk so wide it would take three of us holding hands to circle it. The bark was rough and gray, covered in places with soft green moss that felt like velvet under our fingers. "You have to feel where the tree wants you to go," she told me, already fifteen feet up, perched on a branch like she'd been born in the canopy. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had dirt smudged on her cheek. "Don't fight it. Just... listen." "Trees don't talk, Ava," I called up, though I was already reaching for the first handhold.

ROGER Flash back The first time I saw her, she was sitting alone on the playground swing, her dark hair catching the sunlight like a halo. It was late September, and the air carried that crisp edge of autumn—the smell of dried leaves and fresh-cut grass mixing with the distant scent of someone's wood-burning fireplace. The chains of the swings creaked rhythmically as other kids pumped their legs, their laughter echoing across the playground. But she sat perfectly still, her feet dragging slightly in the dirt beneath her, creating small arcs in the dust. Something about her was different—special. I could feel it even then, a connection that went beyond just seeing another kid. It was like a tugging sensation in my chest, a magnetic pull I didn't understand. My seven-year-old brain couldn't put words to it, but my body knew. Every cell in me recognized her. She looked up, and our eyes met. For a moment, everything around us seemed to pause. The shouts of kids playing tag faded to

I should leave. I should turn around right now and walk out before he saw me. This was too much of a coincidence—him being at my coffee shop, the one place I came to escape. How did he even know about this place? Had he followed me? But even as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. He'd been here first. He was already settled in with his book and coffee. This was just... bad luck. Or fate. Or something. My pride kicked in. I wasn't going to let him chase me away from my favorite coffee shop. I came here for coffee, and I was going to get coffee. I'd just... avoid looking at him. Simple. I forced my feet to move, walking toward the counter with my head held high. But I was hyperaware of his presence, like every cell in my body was attuned to exactly where he was in the room. I could feel his eyes on me, tracking my movement. The barista, Jenny, greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey Ava! The usual?" "Yeah, thanks," I managed to say, my voice coming out steadier than I felt. "Y

"Earth to Ava!" Erin waved her hand in front of my face. "What was that?" "I... I don't know," I whispered. "Did you see the way he looked at me?" "Uh, yeah! Girl, I think you just had a moment with the hottest guy to ever set foot in this school. And you're telling me you've never met him?" "Never." But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. I had met him. Somewhere. Somehow. I just couldn't remember. The rest of the morning was torture. I sat in English class, staring at the same page in my textbook for forty-five minutes without reading a single word. My mind kept replaying that moment in the hallway, the way his eyes had found mine like he'd been searching for me. The way my bruise had burned. In second period History, I caught a glimpse of him through the window in the door. He was walking past with a student guide, getting a tour of the school. Our eyes met again, and this time I saw him falter mid-step. The student guide kept talking, oblivious, but he wasn't listeni