Separian - Book 1

Chapter 34

"So?" The look on her face implied that she wanted me to explain myself. I hadn't really heard a question so I didn't answer. "How was it?"

"Can I eat something, first?" I was already on my way to the kitchen.

"You ate before you went to sleep!" she shouted.

"That was over a day ago!" It was like arguing with Natalie. Her hand locked around my wrist this time and pulled me straight from the kitchen, and through the back door. "You can eat when Mike comes back."

"I doubt it," I said under my breath and complied as she continued to drag me into the center of the field.

In the time I'd been gone, the ground had grown a fresh sheet of snow. I'd somehow overlooked the temperature and clouds overhead when I left for Amy's house earlier. The weatherman was calling for over seven inches before nightfall but judging by the dark clouds hovering directly over us, I doubted that would be the end of it.

When I was conversing with Blake in the lobby this morning, some of the residents living on the first floor cleared the field as best they could from the night before, implementing minimal elemental control when possible. That was probably why I hadn't noticed anything. But they eventually settled for a handful of shovels before tiring themselves out and ruining their training regime for the day.

The crowd outside today wasn't nearly as large as it normally was. Many of the Separian who typically resided here had returned home for some middle of the year, winter vacation. Including Marissa and myself and Quinn, now watching from the sidelines with a half-eaten apple in hand, there were no more than twenty of us out here. We passed eight people eating in the kitchen and there were four taking a few laps of the state after a bet made while I'd been away. For a house that usually held close to ninety bodies, comfortably, we were easily at less than half our capacity. I wouldn't have thought twice about it several weeks ago, but Quinn grew nervous when she felt the house wasn't well protected. And when one of us felt uneasy, we all felt uneasy. Eventually the feeling made its way to me and I'd been struggling even more than normal to sleep because of it. Last night was a fluke. A fluke that Marissa had no problem disrupting and forcing her own agenda on.

Thankfully, Quinn was eating right now, so the discomfort that came with a half empty house was nowhere to be found.

"What's on your mind?" Marissa asked, arching her back and readying for an attack.

I mimicked the action and waited for her to follow through. She began bouncing her thoughts, not to fight, but to keep me absent from her mind and force me to respond as if I couldn't hear her side of the discussion before she vocalized it. Her efforts were no major feat to overcome now. Mike swore black and blue that he couldn't keep up with her when she was like this, but I'd learned to see through the trick after a few short days of training with her. I gave her the satisfaction though, and tried to keep her thoughts isolated from mine.

"You've been talking in your sleep again," she said before I could respond to her first question. Her heels lifted from the ground and she propelled herself toward me.

Fighting was all the Separian seemed to know. Basic communication skills came from reading one another rather than verbal cues and inquisitions. I doubted half of them could operate effectively with the rest of the world after spending a few days here.

Take Marissa, for example. She was as genuine as people came. Honest, kind-hearted, generous; an all-around girl-scout, really. But her best method of conversation usually came just before, during, or right after a fight. When she was relaxing, she had a book in hand and was as silent as a rock. She responded when spoken to, but on days like those, I couldn't tell her apart from Stephanie.