“Who’s Thunder?”
“That was the name of your horse. We named him that because he had a black mane and gold stirrups.”
“See! I don’t even remember my horse’s name, but you do.”
Katie shakes her head like she’s not understanding.
“My point is we know each other better than anyone else on the planet. And no mates or blood-wolf powers are going to change that. And it’s not like I can just read minds anyway—it doesn’t work like that—plus I wouldn’t if I could, but you think if I did there’d be something about you I wouldn’t already know?”
She chews her bottom lip, perhaps thinking about all the little thoughts she does want to keep secret, because the truth is there are things we keep from each other, thataresecret—that’s going to be true about anyone. But if they’re secrets, we need to respect that. Eventually her face softens and, as if coming to the same conclusion, she turns to smile at me. “No.”
“Right, because we’re soulmates. Not in the same way you have Todd and Simon or I have Jasper. In a whole other way that’s just ours.”
At this she begins to tear up.
“We don’t need to read each other’s minds,” I continue, “because we already can.”
She laughs and it’s music to my ears, a trill that swoops in to harmonize with the honky melody pumping from the carousel.
“I didn’t mean it when I said we were drifting apart,” Katie says, wiping a tear from her eye. “I mean, maybe we are a little, because we’re growing up and whatever, but I don’t want to.”
“Katie, we could never.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and she leans into me. To our left the carousel is spinning once again and I catch a glimpse of a horse with a black mane.
“Are you looking forward to going back to school?” Katie asks, and in unison we turn to face one another and shake our heads.
“Nah!”
The first week of classes simultaneously drags and whizzes by. Every second I wish I was with Jasper, or calling him or texting him. I struggle to concentrate in my lessons, thankful most of the teachers have decided to take it easy on us during the first week back. My mind is so adrift wondering what Jasper is up to, waiting for his next message that I hardly notice time passing.
I glance at my phone under my desk during Calc on Friday and can’t help the smile spreading on my face. Jasper has kept his promise to be better at texting since he left for Cambridge on Tuesday.
Mind-link practice tonight?
I type back “YES” in all caps then struggle to regain my focus.Seriously, when will I EVER need to use calculus in real life?
“Ready?” Jasper asks, his face bright on the screen of my phone, which is propped up on a pillow at the foot of my bed.
I pull my legs under me. Maybe sitting like a yogi will help me access my cosmic wolf connection.
“Ready,” I say.
Jasper closes his eyes first. His college dorm makes an impressive backdrop behind him. It looks more like he’s calling from some historic library than a bedroom. Dark wooden shelves are filled with wide-spined books featuring academic-sounding titles. His face is lit in lamplight, accentuating his chiseled jaw and bringing out his freckles.
He’s already slipping into a deep state of concentration, his breathing has slowed, his muscles relaxed. I need to stop gawking at my hot boyfriend and do the same.
I close my eyes, take three deep breaths, and try to open my mind.
In the darkness of my mind I let the walls I’ve held in place for protection dissipate. The noise of the world creeps into my consciousness like a fuzzy murmur, a woolen blanket of sound on all sides. I do my best to block it out and return to the calm, blank, nothingness. Whenever I’ve reached out before I’ve always visualized the presence of other wolves as squiggly red lines, like veins or electricity. I do my best to search the darkness for them, trying to hunt out the one with Jasper’s energy, his life force.
They start to come into view, small and distant at first, but growing larger, flickering and vibrating. They race toward me until I’m standing in the midst of them, a sea of pulsing veins, each the strand of a life, a spark of consciousness. There are too many to count. Their red light extends and floods the void around me a dark crimson. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to find Jasper among them, reaching out with my energy and my consciousness.
Suddenly, a howl tears through the silence, erupting from nowhere and everywhere, and a blinding pain slices through my brain. My eyes shoot open and I clutch my head, crying out in agony.
“Max!” Jasper shouts, eyes open as well, peering into the phone with terror in his expression. “What’s wrong?”
The pain lessens more slowly than it arrived, but fast enough that within a few seconds all that’s left is a pounding headache.
“I’m okay,” I say, despite the fact I can’t quite catch my breath and sweat has broken out across my forehead. “I’m fine.”
