Eternal

seriously.”

“It’s a good thing you can tell her about your visions.”

“Yeah. I think this one really freaked her out. I had to tell her, though. I’m glad I did.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

“Just so you know,” he said at last, “I actually miss the boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat.

“Yeah. Art history just isn’t the same without him sitting there glowering at me, you know?”

I laughed, careful that it didn’t turn into a sob. “Yeah, I know.”

“Sophie tells me you got kind of a shock over the weekend.”

I sat up sharply. “What did she tell you?”

“Just that, and nothing else, the secretive little wench.” With a groan, he rose to a sitting position. “I assume it has something to do with that new ring I’ve seen you sporting?”

I glanced down at my finger, bare now. I kept the ring tucked safely away in my room during my training sessions, but otherwise I wore it everywhere I went. But I didn’t want to talk about the ring—not now, and not with Tyler.

“He left me his house,” I said instead. “And everything in it. It’s all held in trust for me till my birthday next month.”

Tyler’s eyes widened with genuine surprise—meaning that Sophie hadn’t spilled the beans. “Seriously? That’s gotta be worth millions.”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “But what am I supposed to do with it? I mean, if he doesn’t come back?”

He took a deep breath, looking as if he were carefully considering his words. “Byrne thinks he will.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart pounding furiously now.

“He’s never come out and said it, not in so many words. But I can tell he thinks it. And he wants to have the cure ready for him when he does.”

God, I hoped he was right. Was it possible that Matthew had seen something in a vision—something that he wasn’t telling me about? But if that were true, why would he keep it from me?

Supposedly we shared some sort of psychic bond, which, for now, seemed limited to Matthew’s visions. Maybe there was more to it, something still untapped. Maybe there was a way I could get inside his head. I vowed to work on it, to test it out.

“You ready to bust this joint?” Tyler asked, rising and reaching a hand down to help me up.

“I’m ready.” I took his proffered hand and hopped to my feet.

He released me, readjusting his colorful string bracelets. “So . . . early movie tonight—whaddya say? I’ll buy the popcorn and Coke.”

I somehow had a feeling I was going to regret what I was about to say. “Sure, but I’m buying. I owe it to you after all the abuse you took today.”

He raked a hand through his damp, shaggy hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. “Did I ever tell you that I like a girl who can kick ass?”

“Yeah, like a million times. Now shut up and go take a shower.”

“Deal. It’s a date.” With that, he turned and jogged toward the door.

“It’s not a date, Tyler,” I called out after him. “It’s not a date. Seriously, I’m asking Sophie to come too!”

He paused briefly by the door, turning to smile innocently at me. “Hey, the more the merrier.”

With that, he took off without me.

11 ~ Seeing Ghosts

Okay, folks, don’t forget we’ve got our field trip to MoMA on Friday.” Dr. Andrulis was passing back our graded quizzes, his hands sheathed in tan gloves, as always. “We’ll meet by the bus at ten a.m. sharp. Make sure you have all your teachers sign the slip so they’ll know where you are. Nice job, Miss McKenna.” He handed me a paper with a ninety-eight written in red and circled at the top.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it with a smile.

Teacher’s pet, Tyler mouthed beside me.

I stuck my tongue out at him. Truth be told, art history had quickly become my favorite class. It turns out I really enjoyed learning about art and artists, particularly the history behind the different movements. I was even considering majoring in art history now, especially if I managed to get accepted at the American University of Paris. And AUP was now my top-choice school, since I assumed that Aidan was in Paris somewhere. Maybe our telepathy would work better at close range.

It wouldn’t be long before I found out if I got in or not—acceptance letters would start going out in mid- March, less than a month away. I made a mental note to check Aidan’s mail at his town house at some point in April, before the decision deadline. If we both got in, I’d send in his acceptance along with my own. I wasn’t giving up hope, not yet.

“Thanks for killing the curve,” Tyler grumbled, holding up his paper with an eighty-six scrawled at the top.

“How’d you do?” I asked Joshua, who sat on my other side in what had been Aidan’s seat.

“Ninety-two,” he answered, looking pleased with himself.

We mimed a high five.

“This will be similar to the Met trip,” Dr. Andrulis continued, back at the front of the classroom now. “You’ll break up into groups of three or four, and each group will take a checklist of pieces I want you see. At the end of the visit, you’ll narrow down your focus to two pieces—a painting, plus something from another medium—and prepare a full report on both, including information about the artist, materials, context, and history.”

Dr. Andrulis kept talking, but I was distracted by a weird tickle in my brain. I sat up straight, shaking my head to clear away the cobwebs, but there it was again.

Please don’t let me have a vision right now, I silently pleaded. I fidgeted in my seat, waiting for the telltale humming in my ears to begin, for the vertigo that followed.

Tyler prodded me with his pen. “Hey, you okay?” he whispered.

I just dropped my head into my hands, my elbows resting on my desk as I willed away the sensation.

“Dr. Andrulis!” Tyler called out beside me, his voice laced with alarm. “Something’s wrong with Violet. I think she needs to go to the nurse.”

No. No, I was fine, just—

Violet?

Oh my God. It was Aidan’s voice, there in my head. Faint and muffled, but undoubtedly his. My heart began to race and I half rose from my seat.

“Aidan?” I didn’t even realize I’d said it aloud until a half dozen heads swiveled in my direction, eyes wide with surprise. “I’m . . . uh, sorry,” I mumbled, sitting back down again, my cheeks flushing hotly.

Aidan? I tried again, silently this time.

Here. That was it, a single syllable, nearly indistinguishable.

Just then, the phone on the wall behind Dr. Andrulis’s desk rang shrilly, startling me so badly that I knocked my notebook to the floor.

While Dr. Andrulis took the call, Tyler slipped out of his seat, kneeling to retrieve my notebook. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked me. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Joshua leaned toward me. “Did you have a vision or something?”

I shook my head, sure now that I had imagined hearing Aidan’s voice. I must have. Wishful thinking. Otherwise—

“Miss McKenna?” Dr. Andrulis had hung up the phone and was moving down the aisle toward me now. “You’re wanted in the headmistress’s office.”

The headmistress’s office? “Now?” I managed to croak.

“I’m afraid so,” he said, his expression unreadable.