Lucas stared at her, wide-eyed, completely taken aback by her defensive bitterness. Finally, though, as her hand was on the doorknob, she calmed down all of a sudden and turned back to talk to him to apologize and try to explain herself. Lucas didn’t respond. His eyes were still wide with shock at her being a psychic all this time.

He could tell she really wanted to leave, but he couldn’t let her go. This would be the only chance he’d get to actually tell someone else… Someone who might understand…

Without thinking, Lucas reached forward and grabbed her hand as she was opening the door. A draft of cool air rushed in from the outside and he could hear the sound of rain pattering against the street outside.

“Wait,” he told her firmly. He wanted to speak again, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked down and shook his head. No, he couldn’t back down. He had to tell her. It was now or never.

“I [i]do[/i] understand,” he said, still looking down at the floor. “More than you can imagine…” He swallowed hard and forced himself to look up and make eye contact with her, finally releasing her hand from his grip.

“I care so much because I’m the same as you.”

He didn’t want to say psychic. In reality, the word kinda scared him. He didn’t want to give himself a label. Instead, to prove his point for her, he slowly lifted up his right index finger. He mentally summoned his powers, and in response, a few small, blue sparks crackled around his fingertip. After a few seconds, he stopped and lowered his hand, giving her a sheepish smile. That was the first time he had shown anyone his powers.