I was in a foul mood when I met Donavon in a small café for dinner. He was sitting at a table in the corner waiting for me when I arrived.

Living at Elite Headquarters had a lot of advantages; the biggest, in my opinion, was the abundance of food options. At school, the only place to eat was the cafeteria. They served three strictly regimented meals a day. The food wasn’t bad but lacked imagination and variety, since the school valued proper diet and nutrition above all else. Donavon and I had a unique advantage over the other students at school: Mac and Gretchen lived in a house on the school’s grounds. We’d gone up there for dinner quite often.

But here? That was a whole different story. The Hunters weren’t the only division of The Agency housed at Elite Headquarters, so it was more like a small town than a training compound. There were cafés and snack shops spread throughout the compound, boasting a variety of foods from around the world. We also had stores that sold everything from toothpaste—in case you didn’t like the kind the housekeepers put in the bathrooms—to small electronics.

“Hey,” I said, taking the empty seat across from him.

“Want to tell me about it?” he asked, immediately sensing my dark mood.

“No,” I replied a little too forcefully. “I don’t. Can we just eat?”

“Of course.” Donavon took a menu out of the holder in the center of the table, and began touching the screen to make selections for both of us. When he was done, he pushed the “Enter” button at the bottom of the screen and replaced the menu.

“Want to tell me how your practice session went?” he asked.

“I’d rather you tell me about your day. I don’t feel much like talking.”

Just then, a woman showed up with two bottles of water. Donavon thanked her.

“I will gladly tell you about my day,” he said, once she’d left. He launched into the events of his day, embellishing a somewhat amusing story to make it hilariously funny. I smiled in spite of myself, not so much because the story was actually that funny, but because I thought it was so sweet of him to go out of his way to try and make me feel better. By the time our dinner arrived, I was in a much better mood. Donavon always had that effect on me. I felt safe when I was with him.

After dinner, we took a walk around the compound. We were about to start our second loop of the grounds, when Donovan grabbed my hand.

“Arden and Harris went into the city and won’t be back until curfew,” Donavon said mentally. Arden and Harris were Donavon’s teammates, and therefore his cabin mates. If the food options were the greatest advantage of living at Elite Headquarters, lack of privacy was the greatest disadvantage. At school, every student had his or her own room, making it easy to spend strongly frowned-upon time with members of the opposite sex. While at school I not only had my own dorm room, but I also had my own suite of rooms at Mac and Gretchen’s house. They didn’t mind Donavon and me being alone together.

“Lead the way,” I answered.

By the time we got back to Donavon’s cabin, we only had an hour until curfew. I took off my shoes and curled up on his bed. Donavon lay down next to me and covered us with a quilt that I recognized from his house; his mom had made it for him. I laid my head on his chest. He snaked one arm around my waist and slid his hand up under the back of my shirt, resting it on the small of my back. He lightly ran his fingertips back and forth, sending chills up my spine. I raised my head and stretched up until our lips met. I kissed him softly. He moved both of his hands to my waist and pulled me on top of him. I kissed him harder. He lifted me up and flipped me over onto my back. I let out a small giggle of surprise. He leaned over me and bent his head, careful to keep his weight off me by holding himself in a push-up position. I lifted my head up to meet him halfway. He pulled back, teasing me. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him back down. He was strong, and instead of allowing me to pull him back down, he reared his head and shoulders back, lifting me slightly off the bed. I released him and fell on to my back. Thinking I was clever, I gave him a quick jab with the side of my hand in the crook of his right elbow. He wasn’t expecting it, and his arm gave out. He fell on top of me, just as I had anticipated. I wrapped my legs around his waist at the same time that he tried to roll himself to one side, afraid that his weight would crush me. When he rolled, I’d already managed to entwine my limbs with his waist. Our combined weight—mingled with the fact we were tangled in his quilt—caused us to roll right off the bed.

I landed flat on my back. Donavon landed square on top of me. The initial jolt of hitting the wood floor jarred my bones. The shock in Donavon’s eyes must have mirrored my own. Before either of us could say anything, I burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. I was laughing so hard that I didn’t hear the door open.

“Oops! Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Arden’s voice called.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Donavon grumbled, clearly annoyed.

“Hi, Talia,” said Harris as he waved. Harris had been a year ahead of Donavon at school, and the two had been good friends since childhood. He’d always been my favorite of Donavon’s friends.

I peered around Donavon’s considerably larger body and returned his wave. Harris was standing in the doorway, smirking. It wasn’t the first time he had walked in on Donavon and me in a somewhat compromising situation.

“Could you two wait outside for a minute?” Donavon asked, agitated.

“No, no, no. You don’t need to do that,” I said quickly. “I need to get back for curfew.”

Arden strolled awkwardly to his bed, trying not to look at us. Donavon untangled himself and carefully stood up. He reached his hand down to help me up. I quickly pulled my shirt back down to cover my stomach, and tried to smooth my dark curls in vain. I imagined my hair closely resembled a rat’s nest.

Harris barely stifled the laughter escaping his throat. “Don’t bother, Tal. It’s a lost cause at this point.”

Donavon grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out of the cabin. I gave both boys a wave as I passed.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked as soon as we were out the door. He stopped short, causing me to run into his back. I could feel the waves of tension rolling off of him.

“It’s not you. I just get frustrated at how little alone time we have together.”

“I know, me, too. It’ll get better,” I promised, even though I knew that wasn’t quite true. Usually, younger Hunters and pledges lived in the cabins for years before being moved to the individual private suites that housed the rest of the operatives at Elite Headquarters.

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Donavon started walking again. My cabin was only a short way from his, so it didn’t take us long to get there. He kissed me on the cheek before saying goodnight. He started walking away, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to me.

“You aren’t getting off that easy,” I proclaimed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, he merely complied but soon he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I kissed him deeper. We heard catcalls and Donavon placed me back on my feet.

“Goodnight, Talia.” He turned and started walking away. “I love you.”

“I know,” I replied.

I looked around, seeking out the catcallers. I spotted them sitting outside of a cabin a few doors down. I gave them a rude hand gesture before walking into my cabin.

Neither Erik nor Henri was inside, which was weird. It was so close to curfew. Sitting on my bed was a bouquet of flowers made up of vibrant blues, purples and pinks. Attached to the flowers’ paper wrapping was a note with one word. “Sorry.” They were from Erik. I rolled my eyes and dropped the beautiful flowers on to my bedside table before climbing into bed. I was so tired that I didn’t hear either of the boys come in shortly thereafter.

***

The morning sun streamed in through the window of the cabin, waking me early. I needed to remember to close the curtains before bed. I blinked several times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. I stretched, turning my head left, then right. When I looked right, I noticed that somebody had put my flowers in water in a glass vase on my bedside table. I smiled to myself. I was about to sit up when a pillow came sailing across the room, hitting me in the face. I groaned.

“Get up. We’re all having breakfast together.” Henri’s voice sounded muffled from where I lay underneath the pillow. I sat up and looked around the room.

“Where’s Erik?” I asked, noticing immediately that he wasn’t in his bed.

“Shower. He was afraid he would be resigned to taking cold showers from now on if he didn’t start beating you in there,” Henri replied dryly. “Get up and get ready. We have a lot to do today.”

I groaned again, grudgingly rolled myself out of bed, and got ready. The three of us headed to Henri’s favorite café for a bread-heavy breakfast. Erik didn’t mention our fight from the day before, so I didn’t bring it up either.

Over breakfast, Henri outlined different strategies that he thought we should try and reinforced how important it was that we—and by “we,” I knew he meant me—nail the three-way mental connection.

After breakfast, I worked tirelessly trying to connect all three of our minds while we ran through combat drills, pushing myself harder than I had in the previous two weeks. A few times I was actually able to make the connection, but I was unable to hold on to it for long. By lunch, I was mentally exhausted. I wasn’t sure if I could go another round in the afternoon. Thankfully, Henri had decided we would switch to the mental relaying of messages, which came easier, for our afternoon session. By the end of the day, the mental exertion, combined with the extreme physical activity, left me nearly shaking with fatigue.

At school, students were put through rigorous training schedules, but it was nothing like what I’d experienced in my short time at Elite Headquarters.

“Let’s go back to the cabin, shower, and then we can head to dinner,” Henri suggested after I tripped over my own feet for what seemed like the one-hundredth time that afternoon. I nodded gratefully. The only thing I wanted to do was lay down in my bed. I trailed several paces behind the boys on the way back to the cabin and followed Henri’s orders.

The boys, thankfully, let me shower first. My shaky legs didn’t allow me to stay in the hot spray for as long as I would have liked; even lifting my arms over my head to wash my hair felt like too much work. Instead, I just stood under the water until I was somewhat confident that the water had washed out most of the sweat and grime. I dressed in the most comfortable cotton pants and sweater I could find in my bathroom cubby, wound my dark, wet curls into a tight bun, and was ready in record time. I stumbled out of the bathroom and curled up on my bed to wait for the boys to shower and dress.

“Let her sleep,” Erik urged.

“The more time we spend together, the faster she will be able to form the connection, and the easier it will be for her to hold,” Henri responded, a note of desperation underlying his otherwise calm voice.

“She’s exhausted, Henri. You have no idea how tiring using that kind of mental energy can be,” Erik said in a firm, low voice.

“She needs to get this. I need her to get this,” Henri urged, the desperation in his voice becoming thicker.

“I understand that, but you cannot push her so hard, so fast—she’ll break under the pressure,” Erik replied.

I was shocked that Erik was the voice of caution. I wanted to interrupt them—after all, they were talking about me—but I couldn’t muster the energy to speak.

“Let her sleep now.” Erik’s tone was final. “She’s getting stronger by the day. I don’t think you should push her further tonight.”

Henri took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Besides, now we can go into the city for dinner.” Ah, that was the Erik I knew. I envisioned Henri rolling his eyes.

Somebody, Erik by the feel of it, took the quilt from the end of my bed and covered me gently. I murmured what was meant to be “thanks”, but sounded more like grunts and moans, and fell asleep before they made it out of the door.

When I woke, I felt strong arms encircle my waist. I smelled the familiar sandalwood scent of the soaps Gretchen ordered from somewhere out West. I snuggled closer.

“What’re you doing here?” My mental voice was sleepy and a little slurred.

“I saw Erik and Henri on their way to dinner. Erik said you weren’t feeling well, so I figured I would check on you.”

“I’m okay. Just really tired. Long day.”

“Go back to sleep,” Donovan said, smoothing the wet pieces of hair that had escaped my bun back from my face.

“Are you going to stay?” I asked hopefully.

“For a little while.”

“Good.” I knew this wasn’t really Donavon’s idea of quality alone time, but I also knew that I would sleep better if he were here. Donavon’s arms tightened around me, and he nuzzled his face in my neck. I fell back asleep, smiling.

Donavon coming into my cabin brought back the memory of the first night he ever snuck into my room to sleep with me. It was on the eve of my first day as a student and my nerves had refused to let me sleep. I tossed and turned in my too-big bed, hoping that all of the movement would wear me out. It was well past the time where one day ends and the next begins, when I opened my mind and reached out to Donavon. We had worked all summer seeing how far I could stretch my mental reach. The distance between our bedrooms was nothing compared to what I knew I could achieve.

“Are you awake?” I asked.

“Yup. Are you having trouble sleeping, too?”

“I’m nervous about tomorrow,” I admitted.

“Hold on.”

Not even a minute later, I heard Donavon’s light footsteps in my sitting room. I mentally unlocked the door to my bedroom, prodding it open just a crack for him. He opened it the rest of the way and silently crept towards my bed. The bedsprings depressed under his weight as he stretched out on the empty half.

“Why are you so nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve never been to school before.”

“This isn’t like a normal school. Everybody there is like you. You’ll be fine.”

“Mac said nobody would be like me,” I said accusingly.

“Well, not exactly like you, no,” he amended. “Nobody there does mind manipulation. But there will be other kids that can move stuff with their minds like you, and I think even one or two that can read minds.”

“Really?” I dared to hope that I was finally going to be “normal”, so to speak.

“Really,” Donovan confirmed.

“I won’t know anybody.”

“You know me, and I know everybody. My friends will be your friends.”

I grinned in the dark. I couldn’t make out his features from where I lay, yet I knew that he could make out mine. He reached out and held one of my hands in his warm, soft palm.

“Open your mind and close your eyes.”

“Why?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Don’t you trust me?” He sounded a little wounded.

“Of course I trust you,” I answered quickly, afraid that I’d hurt his feelings.

“Okay, then open your mind and close your eyes.”

Hesitantly, I closed my eyes—I knew that he would be able to tell if I didn’t—and removed the remaining barriers to my mind. He began mentally humming an old bedtime song, one my mother used to sing to me. I didn’t know the words, but the melody was soft and comforting. Before I knew it, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.