The Empaths (Book one in The Empaths series)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucy woke on the morning of her birthday-eve with butterflies the size of elephants flapping around in her stomach. All of the meditating, deep breathing and thinking happy thoughts leading up to this moment had done absolutely nothing to stop those little flappers from stirring up trouble in her belly.

The week had flown by. One minute it was Monday and they were all sitting around on the front lawn of the school laughing and joking and the next thing she knew, it was Friday and she was staring down the barrel of a major life event that would kick off the very thing they had been working towards these past six months.

She threw her legs out of the bed and stood up with such enthusiasm that her head spun and she nearly fell right back down again.

"Whew," she said, grabbing at her desk chair to steady herself.

She picked up her phone and quickly sent Tristan a text. No run today, but you should definitely come over for breakfast. She finished with one of those annoyingly cute winky faces with the little heart kiss.

"I need tea," she mumbled, and she crept off downstairs to make herself a cup.

She should have known, with her eighteenth birthday looming, that poor Scarlett would be feeling just as nervous and would also be awake. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, watching the kettle boil.

"You know you can speed up the process, right?" Lucy whispered as she tried to enter the room without frightening the life out of her aunt.

Scarlett nodded. "Yes, I am aware that I can boil the kettle quicker, but patience is a virtue. Isn't that how the saying goes?"

Lucy laughed. "I don't know, but it's total madness to wait for something as silly as boiling water." She held her hand out, felt for fire and within seconds, the water was bubbling away.

Scarlett watched as Lucy poured them both a cup of tea. "Do you have any idea how wonderful you are?"

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if 'wonderful' is quite accurate." She handed Scarlett her cup. "Neurotic, maybe. A headcase, even. But definitely not wonderful."

"You, are none of those awful things. You and your brother and all of your beautiful friends are wonderful," Scarlett repeated. "I just thought you should know that." She quickly scooted around the counter to hug Lucy. "I love you so much and I'm so proud of you. You and your brother."

Lucy pulled away to look at Scarlett. "Are you alright?" she asked, in a somewhat skeptical tone.

"I'm fine," Scarlett replied, smacking Lucy playfully on the shoulder. "I'm just in one of those moods."

"One of those moods?" Lucy asked as she took a sip of her tea.

"You know those weird moods you get into after you have had an odd night sleep and you're sitting alone in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning, right before something huge is about to happen?"

"Not particularly," Lucy replied. "That series of events usually sees me in a fit of anxiety, wondering if I can't just run away and hide somewhere, so no-one could possibly find me."

Scarlett chuckled. "It's nice to see your sense of humor is returning."

"Let's go with that," Lucy replied, still wrestling with the ridiculously oversized butterflies in her stomach.

"How are you really feeling?" Scarlett asked her. "Be honest with me now."

Lucy contemplated the question while staring into her cup. "Everything," she answered. "I'm feeling everything."