[h3][color=f28500]Jamie Drummond[/color] & [color=c8a2c8]Aveline Standiford[/color][/h3]

After dropping off his bags, Jamie contemplated hunting down Ash again, even knowing that she was busy dealing with an unsavoury rooming decision made by the Headmistress… or whoever designated the roommates. It was easy to ignore that urge, to instead slip out of the dorm building and into the main hall – over where the classrooms were. There were already a few students there, of course, visiting favourite teachers and so on and so forth, which was exactly what Jamie was doing.

The Home Economics room was in a corridor of its own, if only because the size of the various appliances (set-up like a few miniature [i]real[/i] kitchens) required a lot of space. Miss Standiford was in there, he knew, because he felt the absence of strong emotions. The teacher, only seven or so years older than Jamie himself, was a blank canvas – her colours reflected those of people around her in bright but short-lived splashes of wet paint.

[color=c8a2c8]“Jamie?”[/color] she asked quizzically, looking up from her folder of spreadsheets and class registers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced over to the open door and, with a tilt of her head, the teenager understood the message and shut the door over. Yes, he did want the conversation to be in private. [color=c8a2c8]“Didn’t expect to see you around here so early! Something wrong?”[/color]

[color=f28500]“Can’t a kid come and visit his fave teacher without a reason, Miss?”[/color]

[color=c8a2c8][i]Not when you and Miss Mareino are usually joined at the hip this time of year.[/i][/color] A wry grin quirked at Miss Standiford’s lips as the voice echoed as if it was in some building with good acoustics, like a cathedral, or a church. The “temple of the mind” as he’d heard her reference before to explain the phenomenon.

Jamie’s attempt was not quite so subtle, if only because telepathy was [i]not[/i] his ability. [b]Worry[/b] like a hangnail washed over her, and Miss Standiford obliged, following the emotion back to the source: her student’s mind. Locked doors everywhere, betraying only what he wanted her to see. (That was not to say she couldn’t break them down if she wanted to, but she wasn’t so cruel.)

The Ukranian girl, Natali – hallway? – [color=c8a2c8]“Oh.”[/color] Aveline withdrew from Jamie’s mind in a rush of imagined air. [color=c8a2c8]“I’ll speak with her, or her guide. Is there anything else..?”[/color]

[b]Worry,[/b] this time more similar to a tightrope between two cliffs, hit her softly, as if it wasn’t meant to be seen. Jamie leaned back against the desk, knuckles white with a feather-light frown. He didn’t want her to know that but– it [i]was[/i] her job, counselling. [color=f28500]“Had another episode,”[/color] he said aloud under his breath. [color=f28500]“Got worse over the summer.”[/color]

[color=c8a2c8]“Oh,”[/color] Miss Standiford repeated.

[color=f28500]“It was like– with Coleman’s death, what I was like after it.”[/color] Jamie remembered the night through a haze of heart-stopping terror and confusion, even the hallways outside his dorm room seeming oppressively dark as he had sprinted through them to reach Miss Standiford’s office. [color=f28500]“Except I was– I was [i]angrier[/i]. Like ah’d just been pinned down and stabbed to death mysel’, but I could get up after it– I could… get revenge.”[/color]

[color=c8a2c8]“Who was it..? Whose emotions were they?”[/color]

[color=f28500]“Domestic violence victim, and her son. Weird mix of understandin’ and hope for the end and ‘no, Da, no!’”[/color] Jamie needed a cigarette, and he needed one so badly his want for it was probably floating out into space for Miss Standiford to hear. He hoped it was in garbled Scots so she couldn’t understand it. [color=f28500]“I didnae kill him, just phoned the po-lice. But…”[/color]

[color=c8a2c8]“But?”[/color] Miss Standiford prompted, eyes and emotions filled with such saccharine sympathy Jamie could hardly stand it.

A deep breath. [color=f28500]“But it’s getting worse. Stronger. Got nothin’ to pin my emotions to, to keep them in, y’know? So I’m feeling [i]everythin’[/i].”[/color] Before the teacher could interrupt, he rushed ahead. [color=f28500]“And yeah, my aunt told me what I need to do – she’s only batshit ‘cos she lost her husband.”[/color]

Miss Standiford could only nod, and Jamie was alright with that. This was where there powers diverged, for all the same meditation techniques and discipline helped. His head tilted to the side inquisitively, as if listening to something outside the walls. [color=f28500]“Yeah, someone’s lookin’ – look[i]ing[/i] for you Miss. I should probably get going, get ready for dinner or something.”[/color]

As he turned to leave, Miss Standiford said. [color=c8a2c8]“Jamie? We’ll start practice again Monday after school. Take care, alright?”[/color]

He smiled, then left.