4 | Staring Straight Ahead

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I was out of air

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I was out of air. If I were going to speak to him again, I would have to inhale. It would be hard to avoid speaking. Unfortunately for him, sharing this table made him my lab partner, and we would have to work together today. It would seem odd-and incomprehensibly rude-for me to ignore him while we did the lab. It would make him more suspicious, more afraid...

I leaned as far away from him as I could without moving my seat, twisting my head out into the aisle. I braced myself, locking my muscles in place, and then sucked in one quick chest-full of air, breathing through my mouth alone.

Ahh!

It was genuinely painful. Even without smelling him, I could taste him on my tongue. My throat was suddenly in flames again, the craving every bit as strong as that first moment I'd caught his scent last week.

I gritted my teeth together and tried to compose myself.

"Get started," Mr. Banner commanded.

It felt like it took every single ounce of self-control that I'd achieved in seventy years of hard work to turn back to the boy, who was staring down at the table, and smile. "Newbies first, partner?" I offered.

He looked up at my expression and his face went blank, his eyes wide. Was there something off in my expression? Was he frightened again? He didn't speak.

"Or, I could start, if you wish," I said quietly.

"No," he said, and his face went from white to red again. "I'll go first."

I stared at the equipment on the table, the battered microscope, the box of slides, rather than watch the blood swirl under his clear skin. I took another quick breath, through my teeth, and winced as the taste made my throat ache.

"Prophase," he said after a quick examination. He started to remove the slide, though he'd barely examined it.

"Do you mind if I look?" Instinctively-stupidly, as if I were one of his kind-I reached out to stop his hand from removing the slide. For one second, the heat of his skin burned into mine. It was like an electric pulse-surely much hotter than a mere ninety-eight point six degrees. The heat shot through my hand and up my arm. He yanked his hand out from under mine.

 He yanked his hand out from under mine

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