“You have a real opportunity there, Teddy.”
“I know,” Teddy said, trying not to roll her eyes. She knew her mother would somehow sense the action even through the phone.
“Teddy—” her mom began, but their conversation was interrupted by a beep, signaling that the phone card was running out of time.
“Gotta go, Mom.”
“One last thing,” her mom said. “We only get so many chances in life. Stanford was a chance. This is another. Learn from your mistakes. Don’t make the same one twice.”
Through the window, Teddy saw Pyro wave. Was last night a mistake, too? In that moment, she decided her life would be all about studying until the midyear exam. She would do everything in her power to succeed at Whitfield. To not blow this last chance.
“I won’t, Mom.” She hoped she wouldn’t.
“Okay, good. I love you.”
The line went dead; she’d run out of time. But Teddy still said “I love you, too,” before hanging up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TEDDY TRIED TO KEEP HER promise to focus on schoolwork. The early days of October brought damp fog and lower temperatures to the island, and the daily grind of classes became routine. Meditation. Theory. Forensics and Police Procedure. Trips to the shooting range. Self-defense. No lecture elicited the same thrill as Professor Dunn’s first one. Teddy had forgone other thrills as well—namely, a certain bad boy with tattoos and a talent for setting school linens on fire. December, and with it the midyear exam, loomed.
The first-year recruits sat on yoga mats in the Seership classroom, waiting for Dunn to show up—late, as usual. Teddy clicked her pen again and again. “How can a guy who’s supposed to be in a constant state of Zen always be late?” she said to Jillian.
“I think he’s brilliant,” said Ava, who was sitting behind them.
“You know you don’t have to kiss the professor’s ass when he’s not in the room, right?” Dara said.
Ava flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever.”
When Dunn finally walked into the room, he dropped his backpack on his desk and began without preamble. “Last class, we discussed how the pineal gland is believed to be the seat of psychic power.”
On the wall behind him were two diagrams, one of the brain and the other a picture of a human body with the location of chakras, which apparently weren’t touchy-feely mumbo-jumbo. “Consider this location from a metaphysical as well as a scientific approach: the pineal gland is controlled by the sixth chakra, which, as you know, is considered the chakra that rules extrasensory power.” Dunn looked around the room.
Jillian, Dara, and even Pyro swore they could feel a tingling in each chakra when they focused their mind. Teddy had yet to experience anything, but she was operating on fake it till you make it.
“If you’ve all been meditating regularly, putting theory to practice should be an easy transition,” Dunn said.
There was a stir in the classroom. At last! They were finally going to do something psychic. Teddy just hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself.
Dunn went to the chalkboard. He drew two circles and then connected them with a line. “Physical telepathy—the ability for two minds to consciously and deliberately send and receive messages. Think of it like two tin cans connected by a string. One person sends a message down a channel for the other to receive. In this instance, brain waves act like sound waves.”
Teddy leaned forward. Telepathy. This was supposedly her jam, although she hadn’t yet told any of the other Misfits. Her psychic ability wasn’t flashy: she couldn’t start fires, or predict a death, or talk to animals. She sometimes felt like the remedial student in a class of overachievers, especially here, in Seership. All she had was her instincts. Now she could finally prove why she deserved to be at Whitfield.
Dunn continued, “As you know, I am opposed to judgments of any kind. We are all on different spiritual journeys, and one path is as valid as another. However, the purpose of Whitfield Institute is to train students to utilize their psychic ability in a position that serves the greater good. To that end, the ability to communicate telepathically will play a crucial role in your future careers. You will be tested on this skill in your midyear exam. Those of you who fail will be asked to leave.”
She couldn’t fail.
Dunn assigned each of them a partner for the first exercise. Teddy was hoping for Jillian or Dara or Molly or even Pyro, despite the obvious distraction.
“Cannon, you’re with . . .” Dunn scanned the room. “Molly Quinn.”
“Thank God,” muttered Kate Atkins.
Teddy was about to take umbrage on Molly’s behalf. After all, Molly was a little quiet, but she wasn’t bad. Then Teddy realized Kate was talking about her.
“You have a problem with me?” Teddy said to her. Teddy had yet to see Kate crack a smile.
“I like working with people who have some sense of discipline,” Kate said, her eyes moving from Teddy’s leather jacket to her badass boots.
“And I like working with people who don’t have a stick up their—”
“Each team will receive a deck of playing cards,” Dunn said. “One student will select a card at random and act as the projector, then use telepathy to communicate that information to their partner, the receiver.
“There are many different ways to perform this task, but here at Whitfield, we begin with auditory telepathy. I want you all to imagine that you and your partner have walkie-talkies inside your head and you have to tune in to the same channel in order to hear each other. Agree on a number, visualize it in your mind. The key here is to use your breathing and meditation to sync to that channel and to your partner’s consciousness.” He paused, gazing about the room. “This exercise requires a complete state of mutual trust and respect.
