Separate Links

Chapter 7

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Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear. Camden emerged from under the covers at around 11 in the morning, and glanced at his phone. Two new messages. He opened the first one. It was from Felicity, telling him good morning, she loved him, and she’d be busy all day but could maybe come over that night. The second text was from Lia, telling him that she heard Charice and her friends say that they were going to meet at the mall at around 2 that afternoon. 

Sighing, Camden slipped on a wife-beater, his shorts, a t-shirt, and pants, grabbed a pair of shoes from the floor, and headed into the kitchen. After he fixed himself some coffee, and grabbed a biscuit, he shoved his feet into his shoes and headed out the door. He pulled the keys from his pocket and slid into the dark green jeep.  Sticking the keys into the ignition, he quickly found a song he liked on the radio.  After the engine roared to life, he pulled out of the driveway and found his way onto the interstate in the direction of the mall. 

He pulled into the parking lot of the mall and spent about five minutes trying to locate Rowan’s car. Finally, Camden found a place about 20 parking places from where Rowan had parked, and cut off the engine. He pulled his hood up and lowered the hat over his eyes so he could remain inconspicuous. 

The smell of the food court assaulted his nostrils and the emotions of everyone who passed flooded him as he entered the door. He sighed and shook them out, focused on Rowan’s familiar energy, and tried to locate him. There was a faint trace, diluted by a strong, dark aura.  His interest piqued, he began to follow his senses through the mall to the little picnic area at the west entrance.  Keeping to the shadows, he cast a glance around looking for anyone familiar. He skirted around the middle of the commotion, using his senses to their maximum capability. Then, he heard the unmistakable Thompson laugh; it was one Camden had heard many times. He locked his sights toward the area where the sound had wafted from, and slyly walked closer.  Finally, Camden’s eyes fell on his target.  

There Rowan sat, in a black skull t-shirt, dark jeans, boots, and a beanie, surrounded by pink, bright, Hollister wearing preps. The scene was very odd to look upon, indeed. Concealing his face, Camden sat down a table away and listened intently to their ongoing conversation.

“Ha ha, Rowan you‘re beast. Like, why didn‘t we, like, hang out before?” giggled a blond, twirling a strand of hair around one finger. She talked like most preps, and from what Camden could tell of her energy, she was an airhead with a little psychic ability, but definitely not the one in charge. 

“No idea. You guys are more fun than that stupid group I hung out with anyway. No Dahlia to start a fight over something stupid.,” Rowan replied, clearly enjoying all of the attention. Blondie put a flirty hand on his chest and from what Cam could guess gave a sultry smile. Rowan beamed, but kept his eyes focused on one person in particular. Out of the corner of Camden’s eye, he saw Charice sitting in the center of the psy-circle looking like a queen. Everyone glanced at her continuously as they talked, almost like they were afraid to say something wrong around her. Camden took a mental note on this and decided to bring it up to Lia after he had returned. 

The chatter continued, but one boy, maybe a year or so older than Camden, walked around the table in a circle, his eyes squinted and lips moving silently. This was intriguing, so Cam watched, pressing carefully into the boy’s mind. It was heavily guarded, but not enough so as it was impossible to figure out what the boy was doing. He was setting up a silent barrier, so the group could talk privately. He also managed to throw invisibility into the mix so that  no one would question why they couldn’t hear a group of teenagers talking animatedly. After a moment, Camden couldn’t see or hear anything of the group; only sense the psychic energy around it.