“Have you sensed Jared yet?” I asked him for the thousandth time.

He pushed his pizza aside and shook his head.

After we sat in silence for a good thirty seconds, Ashlee took an apprehensive bite of her sandwich. “How does it work?” she asked after swallowing. “Your visions. How do you do it?”

Glitch looked at her in surprise. I’d have to fill him in later.

It felt weird talking about it with someone other than my family and friends. I wasn’t sure how much to tell her, but she’d kept our secret for weeks. Sure, for nefarious reasons, saving it up for extortion and all, but clearly she could keep a secret.

Once I made sure Glitch was breathing okay, I said, “Sometimes I can touch someone and see something from their past or future, but only if there is something to be seen. It doesn’t always work.” I stabbed a carrot slice. “And sometimes it works too well.”

She frowned. “What do you mean by something to be seen?”

I sat back in my chair. “Well, I don’t get a vision every time I touch someone, thank God. If there is something important that needs to be seen, I can see it, but not always. It either happens or it doesn’t. I can’t really explain it beyond that.”

After regarding us with uncertainty she asked, “What about with Isaac? Will you be able to see what’s going on?”

“I won’t know until I try. I hope so.” I really did. If Isaac saw something or had inside info into what was going on in Riley’s Switch—or more important, with Jared—I wanted to know.

“I hope so too,” she said.

Brooke leaned into me. “Lor, are you sure? From what you told me, this could be dangerous.”

“It’s worth the risk to my mental well-being. If he knows anything that could help us—”

“I understand. Just make sure I’m around when you try it, okay?”

I’d started to ask her why, when I heard someone off to the side.

“Smile for the camera.”

I blinked and looked around, but as my gaze panned to the right, the cafeteria dissolved and in its place, trees formed and playground equipment for small children materialized before my eyes. I was in a vision, but I wasn’t touching anyone. And no one I’d touched recently was in it. I looked around and saw a junior—Melanie, I think, was her name—snapping pictures of a group of kids. They were young, probably kindergarteners, with a few high school kids scattered throughout, and they were posing on the playground equipment while holding a banner. It had dozens of tiny handprints with the words THANK YOU written in bright red letters.

The images swam by me, like we were underwater, not crystal clear, but not really blurry either. The sounds were only slightly lower than would be natural. The light only slightly brighter.

“Say yes to literacy!” Melanie said, and all the kids shouted her sentiment as she clicked several pictures in a row. On the last one, just as the banner slipped from one girl’s hand, a bright light flashed in my eyes. I blinked again to refocus and saw four people sitting around me, talking. I was back at the lunch table, and Brooklyn was arguing with Cameron about appropriate lunchroom behavior.

Ashlee was staring at me with a curious glint in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Did you see that?” I asked her.

Brooklyn stopped talking immediately. “What?” She glanced around, then asked, “Did you have a vision?”

“Yes, kind of. But, it was strange.”

She edged closer, as did everyone.

“It was Melanie something-or-other, that junior in Yearbook. She was snapping pictures of little kids on playground equipment.”

“Oh, wait a minute,” Glitch said, his voice breathy. “I’m getting a vision, too.” He held one hand high and pressed the fingertips of the other to his forehead. “Were they holding a banner that said ‘thank you’?”

My eyes widened. “Yes, they were.”

Brooke crossed her arms and leaned back in disappointment.

“I’m psychic! I knew it!” Glitch said.

Ash smiled dutifully.

“Very funny, Lor,” Brooke said, scowling. “I was really worried. If we’re going to save the world, you have to take your responsibilities—and your mental state—seriously.”

At that point, to say I was confused would have been an understatement. “What are you talking about?”

Cameron tapped on the table, and I realized he wasn’t grinning like the rest, but gazing at me with a deep curiosity. I looked down at what he was pointing at. The newsletter Brooke handed me was lying underneath my elbow. The exact picture Melanie shot in my vision, the one snapped just as the banner slipped from that girl’s hand, was featured on the front page in an article about literacy. The bundled kindergartners were waving and laughing. The high school students were smiling, each of them holding a different kid. The banner was draped across the front, only the picture was black-and-white, while my vision had been broadcast in glaring Technicolor.

“You’re going to save the world?” Ashlee asked.

I clenched my teeth and frowned at Brooke, before saying, “No. Not really. Not the world, so much. More like … the … coffee shop.”

“Yeah,” Brooke said, joining in. “The coffee shop. It’s in trouble. Financially. With money.”

Ashlee laughed softly. “You guys really are the worst liars.” She was so lovely, with dark, shoulder-length hair and big brown eyes. I wanted brown eyes. All the cool kids had brown eyes.