Fearless The King Series Book One - By Tawdra Kandle Page 0,22

it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Michael closed the locker. “I was just surprised.” He stood looking down at me so intently that I flushed and dropped my eyes. “There were some times at lunch that you seemed to be listening really hard. You were just looking at Anne and Brea—I don’t know, like you were concentrating intensely on what they were saying.” He hesitated, and I sensed that he didn’t want to say anything I might take the wrong way. “Were you… were you listening to them? You know, to more than what they were saying out loud?”

My face grew even warmer. “No! I don’t do that, not on purpose. Sometimes things slip in…” I was getting upset as I tried to explain. “What I was concentrating on so carefully was not listening. I work very hard to keep up the walls that block other people’s thoughts.”

Michael closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t mean that to sound—accusing. I was just wondering. I’ve been worrying about what you might be reading in my mind, that you might not like it. I didn’t even think that you might be trying not to know.”

His admission took my breath away. He was worried about what I would think? That was insane. I was the freak, the one who was made wrong. And he thought I would read his mind and not like it?

I took a steadying breath. “I haven’t heard anything from your mind since yesterday in the car. And I wasn’t trying then. It happens. I try to keep it from happening, but it does.”

Michael pushed off from the wall. “Tasmyn, I promise you, I am not mad at you. I wouldn’t have been angry if you had been reading my mind or the girls’ minds. I just didn’t know.” He put his finger under my chin to lift my face. “Please don’t be upset,” he murmured.

My eyes were caught in his, and I couldn’t look away. I could feel his warm finger just grazing my face. My wall slipped a little, but I could only interpret earnest, intense feelings from him—no specific thoughts. And then just for a split second, I saw my own face, looking up at him, the way he was seeing me, and I was completely blown away. I knew it was my face; I recognized the long brown hair and saw my own hazel eyes, but it didn’t look like the image I saw in the mirror each morning. It was beautiful.

The bell rang and the walkway filled with people. We were no longer alone, but Michael stood still. I was the first one to move.

“We have to go to class,” I said, although I had no idea how my voice was working.

“I know.” He breathed deeply and ran his hand over his hair. “I know. This is,” he shook his head, as if to clear it. “Okay, I’ll see you at your locker after school.”

“I’ll be fast. I don’t want to make you late.”

“You won’t. See you.” He took off around the corner and I wondered how I was going to move myself to class when my legs were suddenly made of rubber.

I spent another afternoon zoning through my classes, thinking only about Michael. When the final bell rang, I knew I had to get to my locker fast; Michael had to get to work, and I didn’t want to make him late.

I ran to my locker, already holding the books I would need to drop off and mentally listing the ones I needed to grab. Michael was there waiting, his eyes focused on the paperback book he held in one hand.

“Hey—I’m sorry you had to wait, I’m hurrying. She always keeps us in Trig until the last minute.“

He held up his hand. “I just got here. Take a breath. I wasn’t going to leave without you.”

I shoved my books into the locker and rooted for one I needed. Glancing back over my shoulder, I inquired, “What are you reading?”

He held up the book so that I could see the cover. “John Keats. We’re reading him in English and I needed—” he broke off for a minute, not meeting my eyes. “I was kind of preoccupied in class today, and I need to be more familiar with some of these. This kind of stuff doesn’t come as easy for me as Math and Science.”

I closed the locker. “All set. I love Keats. I wrote my sophomore lit paper on Ode on