“That’s my girl!” Mr Anderson said, throwing his arm around my shoulders and giving me a gruff squeeze.
“That is very impressive for your first time, and while I hate to bring an end to a productive afternoon–”
She stopped when she saw me suddenly look toward the door.
“Someone is coming,” I announced, feeling the approach of a new ability.
“Can you tell who?” Cormac asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I do recognize it. It was definitely someone who was with us in the meeting yesterday, but there were so many abilities in the room I can’t be sure who this one belongs to.”
We all looked to the door as it swung open to reveal – Alex. I felt a sharp pinch in my throat as I tried to swallow, fixing my gaze on his chest, afraid to meet his eyes.
A book in his hand, he took two steps before freezing, obviously not expecting to find the room already occupied. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” he said, turning to go.
“No lad.” Mr Anderson stopped him, in his usual cheerful way, though I could also hear the note of sympathy in his voice. “We’re on the way out, not to worry.”
“Yes, in fact I am needed for an appointment,” Cormac said. “Anderson, would you mind escorting me to Dr Van den Honert’s office? I don’t believe I know the way.”
“Of course, of course,” Mr Anderson said, following Cormac toward the door.
“You did a marvelous job today, Becca,” Cormac said, with a gentle pat on my shoulder as he passed by me.
“Thank you,” I replied, mortified that my voice shook.
The two men left, leaving Alex, Min and me in an eggshell of an atmosphere, none of us sure what to do next. Min made the first move, taking my Sciathed arm in her hands and replacing the Block, while Alex and I hung in a strange state of seeing each other without really looking at one another.
Finally, I’d had enough. If he wasn’t going to break the tension then I would. For all I knew – or had solid proof of anyway – his recent mood change had nothing at all to do with me, and until I found out otherwise, I would go on as if nothing between us had changed. He might not reciprocate, but at least this way I was part of the solution as opposed to the problem.
I gulped back my unease and smiled at him, gesturing toward the enormous book he was carrying. “A little light reading?” I teased, hoping at the very least to see him smile.
He did smile, but it was that same sad, not quite real smile he’d given me yesterday, that made my chest ache. “Just bringing it back,” he said.
He came toward us, as Min and I happened to be standing just in front of the bookshelf, and I held my breath, waiting for him to speak. My hopes were high when he hesitated for a split second as he passed me, giving me what almost looked like a real grin, before it turned into an awkward swallow.
I let out the breath, disappointed and torn. What could I do? I couldn’t force him to talk to me. Should I let it go? Should I try again? I felt the woven cross in my pocket, pressing against my leg telling me yes, while the distant and withdrawn vibe coming off of Alex told me no.
I was at a total loss as to what to do, desperately trying to think of something I could do or say before he left, and I lost my chance. Though, as it turned out, I didn’t have to think for long. Because as he passed by me again, on his way back toward the door, for the slightest moment…
…his hand touched mine.
20
It was just the slightest graze of his finger against the back of my hand, but the jolt it gave me – the pounding shockwave it ignited in my body – felt as though I’d grabbed hold of a livewire and couldn’t let go.
Alex continued to stride quickly out of the room, having not even noticed the seemingly insignificant touch. A touch that had my insides screaming and reeling as they were sucked into tremulous rapids of emotion, that was cutting through me, breaking and unweaving the deepest pillars of my core, then stitching me back up again. And the thread – the bonding agent that was now holding me together – was