Extraordinary (The Extraordinary Saga #4)

Chapter 3

The sun had risen, and Caeden could still conjure a fire with just a thought. He clearly had not imagined it.

He lay in his bed, procrastinating getting up and facing any potential consequences of this new power. Eventually, he knew he would be expected to help unpack. When it came to unpacking, six hands worked a lot better than four.

And though he anticipated it, he wasn't at all prepared with what to tell Ivy when their mom had run to the grocery store and they were alone in the strange house with a bunch of boxes.

"So that's it?" Ivy asked, setting a box of kitchenware on the stovetop. "We're just going to pretend that- that..." she trailed off.

He hurried with an apology. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot last night. It scared me too."

Ivy cocked her head. "You said it was new. How new?"

"Five-minutes-before kind of new."

"Oh." She shook her head, slowly unpacking forks and knives from her box. "I'm not gonna say I can't believe this, cause you're probably thinking the exact same thing. It's... it's amazing, honestly."

Caeden paused, unsure of what to say. "Thanks?"

"Can you do it again?"

He set down his box that contained a coffee maker and not much else.

"I don't know. It's been good today, and I really don't want to ruin that."

"It?" She asked.

"It's its own thing," Caeden explained, the words taking shape and making sense in his mind as he spoke. "Some kind of power."

Ivy shrugged, pulling out a wax candle from his coffeemaker box. "Can't you at least light this?"

He sighed, knowing he wasn't winning this argument. Carefully he lit the wick, focusing his energy on a single fingertip instead of his whole hand. It seemed to work, but he noticed it was more difficult to shake the flame away. With that recognition, he vowed not to use it again unless he absolutely had to.

Ivy eyed the candle like it was made of magic - which he supposed might have been true.

"It looks normal enough," she remarked eventually.

"Well, yeah. It's just fire."

She gave him an inquisitive look. "If you say so."

Caeden pointed a finger at her, a gesture that suddenly held a lot more influence.

"You are not going to tell mom about this," he said, more of a statement than a question.

Fortunately, Ivy rolled her eyes like he'd suggested something utterly outrageous. "Not my story to tell."

It continued like that, their strange conversation, until their mom had returned from the store. Then, they buckled down and actually began to commit to unpacking.

With much protest from Caeden and Ivy, their mother informed them they were to start their new school on Monday. It was Saturday. That gave them two days to settle in and unpack all their supplies, which was not an easy task.

At least, Caeden figured, it gave him something to focus on besides fire.

His power stayed dormant, for the most part. Still, he was filled with dread every time he had to move pillows or papers or something flammable. There was one small instance with a poster, but it belonged to him anyway. Plus, his new room had less wall space than before. Thankfully, neither Ivy nor his mom was around to see it, and the ashes were easily picked up with a vacuum.

As the moving boxes dwindled down from dozens to handfuls, the time before their new life in the valley officially started became less and less as well. Soon - too soon - it was Monday morning and he walked to the bus stop, backpack fully stocked. His mom had offered to drive him, but he wanted to take the bus and make people aware of his presence from the get go. He was ready to play the new kid act one last time.

It was simple. The first day, you powered through all the awkward teacher interactions and introductions and just waited out the day. You kept your head down, didn't speak unless spoken to, and tried not to get lost. Take in some of the rules you'd never had to follow before. Then came day two, which was about the same. But once you got past that, you could relax a little. Talk to some of the people around you. Try and fit in.

It was a system that had worked flawlessly each of the six times he had been 'the new kid'. And, if nothing changed, this seventh time would be the last.

From the moment he got to the bus stop, something seemed strange. He was alone. There was no one else waiting for the bus. He checked the road, checked the time, and then checked his schedule for good measure. Nothing. He was completely right; apparently, he was the only one at the stop.

Then the bus came around the corner and stopped in front of him. The doors opened. He was relieved; that meant he was indeed standing at the correct location at the correct time. But the interesting thing was that the bus was small. Instead of being a full sized school bus, his mode of transportation was more like a minibus. He'd seen them before at his various other schools in the past, but he'd never been on one.

It was barely six, one of the earliest times he'd ever had to drag himself out of bed and get ready. He was startled to see the small bus more than half empty. It probably couldn't fit more than twenty kids to begin with, but he only counted six or seven as he walked down the aisle.

He took a seat a few rows from the back. The little bus was startlingly quiet. He waited, sitting there, for ten minutes, half an hour, then forty-five minutes. The stops were few and far between, and there were only one or two kids waiting at each one.

He didn't pay a ton of attention to the bus; it was way too early in the morning for anything like that. But he couldn't help but be surprised when he actually recognized someone who got onto the bus.

It was the girl from the woods. With her wild red hair, mismatched eyes, and thick rimmed glasses, Caeden could be sure it was her.

She gave him a quick glance, recognition registering in her eyes, before she walked past him and sat at the very back of the bus.