I found out his name was Elliot McNally. He was in my grade but he already turned seventeen. I didn't know anything about him except that he was born sometime in February and that he didn't like talking much. The only times I've ever really heard him speak were when he got randomly called on, or the one day someone else sat in his seat and he politely asked him to move. He had a deep, somewhat raspy voice, and it was a different sound to hear every now and then.

Each day I walked into that third period classroom, his aura was nearly screaming at me. I knew he wasn't psychic otherwise he would've gotten the same vibe I was. Either that or he just did a better job at hiding it. I could sense him all the time; I could sense when he was holding his power back, or when it was just swelling up inside of him. It had that sense almost every single day. It was strange feeling this new aura; I was never blessed to have even come across another gifted person such as myself in my own school. But I didn't know what to do with this feeling. I couldn't shake it off that well; my body was so unfamiliar with it.

That weekend following the first time he had come into school, I found him once again. It was early Saturday morning, and at that time I usually would go over to Martha's Café. I had gone there so often that I had become friends with Martha's granddaughter, who now runs the place, Bernice. She was a sweet middle-aged woman who would always give me a free Danish every time I made my visit. I usually went so I could read a book. I didn't usually act this way; I wasn't one of those people that would sit at a Starbucks and drink coffee while typing away at my Mac. No, I just enjoyed the comfort of this little café and it was the only place where I could read a good book. But for the first time that Saturday morning, I was in shock.

As I was at the register and thanking Bernice for yet another Danish as well as a coffee in hand, I turned around to find all of my coffee spilt on someone's white shirt. My mouth opened as I took in a sharp gasp of air, looking to see all of the coffee drip down and stain his shirt as it stuck to his chest. I looked up to see the only Elliot McNally before me.

My words began to stutter. I placed the half empty cup on the counter and looked at his stained chest and back up into his green orbs. "Oh gosh. I am so sorry. So so sorry." I froze yet again, and lunged behind me and searched for a stack of napkins. I took a handful and began to pat his chest repeatedly. As I did so, I felt his aura yet again. He was holding back his power. He was mad, that was for sure.

"It's fine." He was lying through his teeth; he was steaming. Plus, this coffee was pretty hot, I would be mad too. He began to walk over to the tables in the front of the café, but that was when I decided I wasn't entirely finished with him yet. I also had all of the napkins.

"No," I called after him, "it's not. Your shirt is a mess and it's my fault." I gripped his shoulder, turned him around, and held out the stack of napkins. "Take them, don't walk out of here looking like a total idiot."

He didn't say anything. All he did was roll his eyes under his lids and took the stack of napkins from my palm. It aggravated me to see him pestered by me when I was just trying to give him a nice gesture. We stood there, as he began to pat himself down with the napkin, the stain beginning to go away. It was still obviously there, but it was better than before.

"Uh…" I stammered, and he looked up at me. I didn't exactly know where I was going with this. Why was I still talking? "You're in my math class, right?"

That was when he let out a small smile. As if he were holding in a bit of happiness. He continued to pat his shirt, as he gave a curt nod. "Yes, I am."

"You're new?"

He found it all quite amusing, because he then chuckled a bit. He looked down at his shoes, and then back up at me before he said in a still, quiet voice. "Yes, I am. Moved in from upstate."

He seemed sweet. He wasn't a talker, which was for sure. Something about my questions made him smile which I guess was a good thing. I felt bad about his shirt, though. "I'm Lux."

He smirked and gave me another brisk nod and said, "Elliot."

It was his aura that was strange, though. It was reaching out to me now. It was a peculiar feeling, something that made me feel uncomfortable yet it was so desirable. I wanted so desperately to ask him. But I couldn't. He was a complete stranger, how could I be if I asked him something so personal? I refrained from doing it. Instead, I tried to bring us closer as friends.

"Let me buy you something—for the stain on your shirt. I feel bad. Do you want a muffin?" I looked back up at the menu board. I then returned back to look at him, and he was shaking his head, his small smile still plastered across his cheeks. "What?"

"It's okay, you don't have to."

He never looked me in the eye when we spoke. "I want to. Look at this! You smell like coffee now, too. What's your favorite kind of muffin? Blueberry? Chocolate?"

He looked up at me now, his orbs boring into mine. For the first time, his aura exploded and my heart raced so much faster than I had ever come to remember the past few days. He kept his eyes locked on mine, while I kept my stern, determined face. He broke the stare and looked down at his shoes again, a sense of relief being lifted from my heart. He mumbled to the ground, "Blueberry is fine."

I gave him a large smile, and spun on my heel to approach the counter again. I looked at Bernice with a soft face, quickly looked up at the board and then back at her and said, "Can you get me a blueberry muffin? Oh, and another coffee with two sugars and cream, please."

Bernice smiled sweetly, as she made her way around the back to get my desirables. When she returned with the muffin and the coffee (with a lid), I paid her the amount and I went back to Elliot, where he was standing, the rest of the napkins thrown out. The stain was obvious, but it looked as if he pretended it wasn't there. I handed him the muffin, and he graciously took it with a small thank you. I nodded in return, taking a sip out of the coffee that I covered him in earlier. He then explained that he had to go back home. He thanked me again for the muffin, and made his way out the door as it chimed above him as he left. I watched the bells swing above the glass door, and the last bit of him turn around the corner.

The rest of the day I debated on whether I should ask him about his power or not. I knew he had it; there was no doubt about it that he did. I just didn't know how to go about asking a stranger if he was gifted. Would he understand? If only he could be in this same position, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to make it.

On Monday in pre-calculus, I walked in and he was looking at me. He gave me a small smile and I gave him a larger one in return. Maybe he wasn't exactly a stranger anymore, more of an acquaintance. I could handle that; I could approach him with my conclusion now. And maybe our powers could bring us closer together. I could have someone else around other than Sadie and Dana. Not that anything was wrong with them; we were just very different people.

I sat down at my desk and drummed my nails against it. My eyes flickered back and forth from the math problems in front of me to the back of his head. His aura was calm. For the first time I felt it relaxed. It was as if he had nothing to worry about anymore, or a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I tapped the eraser of my pencil on the paper. I couldn't focus. The past few days have been impossible to focus in when I could feel his power all around me. I had to ask him; it was as if his power was begging me. I had to. I waited all period for the bell to ring. I scribbled wrong answers on my paper and drew my name in fancy letters and doodled all on the sides and corners. When the bell buzzed, I shoved the paper in my bag next to me, and shot up with the bag slung on my shoulder. I looked in between the many heads before his became noticeable. I waited until we got outside of the classroom for me to pull him over.

I gripped his jean jacket and pulled him off to the side. He gave me a frustrated and irritated look, as if I were insane. He stared down at me intently.

"What is it?" he wondered bitterly.

That was when I paused. All of the words that have been so jumbled in my mind were immediately lost. I couldn't speak; what had happened to me? I felt my throat close and my hands try to bring the words about. His eyebrows furrowed as he was clearly becoming aggravated.

"C'mon, spit it out."

I sighed. I looked down at our shoes, only a foot apart. I then looked back up into his eyes, and took in a sharp inhale. "I have to be honest with you, but you have to be honest with me. Okay?"

He adjusted the backpack on his shoulder, and gave me a nod. I took that opportunity to continue.

"You… you have something, something that we both share. Nobody else here has it… but you do. I know you do." He stared at me strangely. He had no idea where I was going with this. He must think that I'm extremely bizarre. I finally let it out. "You have a power. I don't know what power, but you have something. I can tell."

That was when his furrowed eyebrows relaxed, but his eyes filled with rage. I saw his pupils grow as he angrily breathed down on me. "What nonsense are you saying?"

"No, please, just be honest with me—"

"You're crazy. I have no idea what you're talking about." With that, he made a quick turn and shuffled the other way. I watched him make his way down the hallway and around the corner. But his aura made it obvious.

I knew he was lying.