Emery’s eyes were bright and curious. Expectant.
Not to mention, it’s impossible for me to say no to her.
“Well, if quantum particles have previously interacted, they can become intrinsically linked. Whatever happens to one particle instantaneously happens to the other, no matter how far apart they are. Light-years even. That’s called entanglement.”
Emery wore a small smile. “Sounds like you and me.”
My heart suddenly skipped a beat—her words like an alarm that had woken it up. “What do you mean?”
“We met for the first time when we were ten. Maybe that ‘previous interaction’ bound us together, even after you moved away. And maybe that’s why you moved back to Castle Hill and why I needed tutoring. We’re linked.” She toyed with her pencil, not looking at me, her cheeks dusted with a faint blush. “Entangled.”
I should’ve told her that was silly, romantic nonsense and not at all how particle physics worked, but I swallowed it all down. Because that’s sort of exactly how it worked. And because she was right. Meeting her had changed me forever.
“Right, well…we should get back to it.”
She heaved a sigh. “If you insist.”
As with nearly all of our tutoring sessions, it only took a few minutes of actual work before Emery stopped paying attention to the math. Again. I felt her gaze on me and cleared my throat. “Emery…”
“You’re dressed like your eyes.”
“Sorry?”
“Blue sweater, brown pants.” She grinned. “Did you color-coordinate on purpose?”
“Um, no. I don’t ever think about my eyes.”
“Really?” Emery gushed. “Because I justcan’twith them.”
“You can’t…what?”
She laughed. “Get over how amazing they are. As someone obsessed with color palettes, I need to take a closer look. Can I?”
“Um…sure.”
Emery took off my glasses and brushed the hair off my brow. Herhand lingered on my temple, pressing my hair away, her nose inches from mine. Identical actions as those seven years ago when she first discovered the anomaly. I shifted in my chair as my groin tightened.
“Your right eye is a beautiful slate blue. Like the sky just after the sun drops out of sight. Your left eye is a rich brown, like gingerbread, with a wedge of that same blue as your right. If your eye was a clock, it’d be all brown but five to eight would be blue.”
“Technically, both my eyes are blue with the left having a segment of brown from eight to five,” I said, not missing that she used the wordbeautiful. “It’s called sectoral heterochromia.”
“I read about that,” Emery said, releasing me from her gentle touch. “I looked it up after you came back to Castle Hill. They say people with heterochromia possess special gifts or have a destiny that sets them apart from others. That definitely sounds like you.”
“Or it’s merely a genetic anomaly caused by variations in the amount and distribution of melanin in my iris.”
She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Don’t be boring. Too much science and not enough imagination isn’t good for the soul.”
Emery meant it as a tease, but I bristled. I didn’t want to be boring. Not for her. But I was all science and math, barricading myself behind its exactness. No surprises. My mother’s sudden absence had been surprise enough, and the discoloration of my left eye was a never-ending reminder of her.
I’d once read on some silly astrological website that nonhomogeneous eye color symbolized opposing forces within. I’d dismissed it immediately, but maybe there was something to it. With Emery, I felt a storm of conflicting feelings. Impossibilities. We couldn’t be more different. I was too rigid where she was fluid, too closed where she was open and brave.
She’s so much braver than me.
“Anyway, you should show your eyes off more,” Emery said, pulling me from my thoughts. “You could wear contacts and keep your hair off your face.” She laid her cheek in her hand with a sadsmile. “I’d bet you’d get all the girls if you did that.”
I don’t want all the girls…
“We should get back to the math…”
