For a moment I wondered if I might cry. It seemed like a good time for it. The tears refused to come. Crying didn't come easy to me unless I happened to be listening to a particularly moving piece of music or watching a sad scene in a movie.

I walked at a brisk pace in the direction I had last seen Mike lead the others in our group. I turned right, and found the B-8 living quarters. I was about to continue on when I felt a hand tug on my right elbow. I jerked round as if ready to fight to defend myself, if I had to.

"I'm sorry," said a boy with sandy-blonde hair that reached down to his chest and upper back. He was very thin, perhaps unhealthily so. He had his hands raised.

"What?" I said, having about as much niceness in me as a dog that had been left in a car on a hot day.

"Sorry," said the boy again, "I need help with something – don't worry, sorry to bother you, man."

The boy seemed to think better of asking whatever he was going to ask of me and started to move awkwardly back into the B-8 living quarters.

"Wait," I said, forcing myself to be friendly, "What did you want?"

"Well," said the boy, hugging himself and doing a little squat as he spoke, "I was wondering if you could spare a minute to be a judge for us?"

He gestured into the living quarters. There was a chubby Indian boy inside with a bowl haircut, he raised a polite hand of hello in my direction.

"What do you want me to judge?" I said.

Other teenagers walked by us in the corridor. The long-haired boy tentatively tapped my shoulder to move me further into B-8. I moved in, stepping outside of the throng of teenagers coming and going in the corridor.

"Well," he said, grinning a little, "Has anyone told you the–the thing yet?"

I shook my head. "No…" I said, "What…thing?"

The boy looked very happy to tell me what he was about to say. He leaned in a little bit and raised a hand to his cheek as if about to tell me a very big secret.

"People down here," he said, "Some of us have super powers."

I winced but couldn't help but smirk.

"Right," I said, disbelievingly.

"Great, great," said the long-haired boy, "You are the perfect judge for this. See the cup on the table?"

The long-haired boy walked me further into the living quarters. There was a small coffee table in the middle of the room around which were the uncomfortable looking beds that were like the others I had seen. On the coffee table was a simple polystyrene cup filled with water.

"That," said the long-haired boy, "Is normal, room-temperature water. Stick your hand in and see."

I shook my head a little. I wasn't about to put my hand into a cup filled with some mystery substance, even if it did look like water. The long-haired boy stuck his finger into the cup.

"See?" He said, "Totally fine."

He held his hand out for me to shake. "I'm Jay by the way."

"Burgess," I said. I shook his hand. I looked at the other boy and who was sat awkwardly, perhaps not having the same level of social skill as Jay.

"I'm Amar," he said, without a hint of an Indian accent.

He offered his hand to me and I shook it. I turned my attention to the cup and put my finger in it. Just like Jay had said it was normal, room-temperature water. I wiped the water on my finger on my overalls.

"So what do you want me to judge?" I said.

Jay looked giddy for a moment and quite effeminate.

"Okay," he said, "So watch this."

Jay put two fingers into the cup. For several moments he simply stood there concentrating. He squatted down, keeping his hand in the cup. I watched both Jay and the cup intently trying to see what it was he was trying to demonstrate.

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"Okay!" he said, taking his fingers out, "Now put your finger in there again."

I gave both Jay and Amar questioning looks before deciding to do as Jay asked. I put my finger into the cup and immediately felt how cold the water had become, whilst not freezing, it was cold enough that I felt the urge to yank my finger out. I resisted the urge and held it there for a few more seconds before taking my finger out slowly.

"It's cold…?" I said.

"Yes!" said Jay, bobbing on the spot effeminately, "I did that! Just by putting my fingers in there and willing the water to be cold."

"That's it?" I said, "You just…'willed it'?"

"Uh-huh!" said Jay, "That's as cold as I can get the water right now, I'm trying to get it colder."

"Was that what you wanted me to judge?" I said.

Jay nodded, "Yeah, man, yeah. To be honest I kind of just wanted to show off what I could do."

"Hold on," I said, "Is it just water you can make cold?"

"No," said Jay, "It's my hand that I made cold. I can make my whole body cold if I want to."

Jay offered me his hand to shake. I just looked at his hand.

"Is your hand going to be cold?" I said.

Jay grinned excitedly, "Yes!" He said, "I promise it won't be cold enough to hurt you."

I didn't want to shake his hand again because of the risk that his hand might be so cold this time that mine might break off and shatter like shards of glass. I tried to remind myself that what Jay had demonstrated wasn't remotely close to that level of coldness. I imagined what I might think of what Jay had shown me later and knew I wouldn't be satisfied believing his hand really had been cold unless I shook it with my own. There was still a chance he had pulled some trick.

I grabbed Jay's hand. It was cool, but not cold like the water had been.

"Okay," he said, "Ready? I'm going to get colder now…"

The coldness of his hand started to climb. Within a few seconds I felt as if I were shaking hands with an ice pack. I let go and Jay moved his hand back quickly.

"That's insane," I said.

I looked at Jay over trying to see how else he might have done it. He didn't have any pockets in his overalls and the living quarters were so minimalist there wasn't any way to hide an ice pack or something cold to trick me.

I looked at Amar who was smirking. He sat with his hands on his knees.

"Can you do this too?" I said.

Amar shook his head, "No," he said, "But I can do something else."

He saw my questioning look and sat forward.

"Okay," he said, "This is going to sound a bit…weird, but look into my eyes."

I jerked my head back. "Eh, why?"

"Do you want me to tell you first or do you want to see it for yourself?" said Amar.

"You're not going to do anything weird are you?" I said.

"No," said Amar, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"It's really cool," said Jay. He tapped me on the shoulder, egging me on to move closer to Amar.

I relented. My head still felt heavy with stress and a need to be alone. I wouldn't stick around with these guys much longer. I needed to go find Mike and the others. Particularly Tiffany. It didn't feel right for us to be separated for too long in this place.

I wasn't sure the best way to move in front of Amar. So I squatted down until I was eye level with him. He was sitting on the fifth bed in the room, the one that wasn't one of the bunkbeds.

"Okay, watch," he said.

We looked into each other's eyes. I immediately wanted this to be over. I hated looking people in the eyes. Not because I was shy necessarily, but because I knew I could look people in the eyes with an intensity that made them uncomfortable; so I often opted to look at people anywhere but their eyes most of the time.

Amar had brown eyes. Nothing unusual. But over the course of a few seconds his eyes darkened until the irises were pitch black. They stayed that way for a few seconds then returned to their previous brown.

I looked over my shoulder at Jay who continued to delight in my perplexed reaction.

"He darkened them?" I said.

"Yeah," said Jay, "Have you ever seen anyone do that kind of thing before?"

I shook my head, "No," I said.

"Can you do any other colours?" I said to Amar.

"I've tried but not yet," he said, "I can just darken them at the moment."

"How long have you been able to do that with your eyes?" I said.

Amar looked at the ceiling as he considered the question.

"Um, all my life, I guess."

"And you?" I said to Jay.

"Oh," said Jay, "Years ago I remember making my drinks a little bit colder. Just a little bit. It's only in the last few months I've been able to get it cold enough where people actually believe me."

I stood up and moved to the doorway.

"Sorry but I need to get going," I said, "Maybe you could show me again another time?"

"Yeah, man," said Jay, "Where are you staying?"

"B-10," I said.

Jay's enthusiasm soured. "Oh," he said, "Bad luck."

"Why?" I said.

"That's where a guy called Tommy stays. He's a prick."

"Wouldn't happen to be about my height, mixed-race, likes to slap people for bumping into him?" I said.

Jay's eyes went wide.

"Uh…sounds like him."

"Crap," I said. I smiled a dark, mirthless smile.

"Wish me luck."

I turned and left, restarting my mission to find Tiffany and the others.