I manage to grab the edge of the blanket and pull it up to my neck. Explaining to Kristina why I am naked underneath and wearing only a bra on top would be problematic. Mathias manages to disappear, but his warm hands remain on my stomach, making my body react. I try with all my strength to maintain serenity and indifference.

  Kristina is speaking on the phone in Russian, so I do not understand a single word. Judging by her friendly tone, it is a friend on the line. At first I think Kristina did not notice me when she entered the room. She talks for another minute, then puts the phone into her bag and stands with her back to me for a while, rummaging through her notes.

  "Why are you not at the university?" she asks, flipping through one notebook after another.

  "Me?" I say in surprise.

  "Do you think you can hide under a pile of blankets?"

  I brush away Mathias’s invisible hand from my thigh and immediately catch Kristina’s curious look.

  "Uh… I need to get rid of mosquitoes," I say quickly, finding an answer.

  Kristina finally finds what she was looking for and puts the notebook into her bag.

  "So why did you not go to the lecture?"

  "I am not feeling well today," I reply in a sick voice. The fact that I am unwell is partly true, because I am definitely sick with Mathias, and after what happened a few minutes ago, I feel a feverish desire to repeat it.

  "Be careful," my roommate says, "or they will expel you for absences at the very beginning of the academic year."

  "I hope it will pass," I say tiredly, and then out of the corner of my eye I notice Mathias pushing his clothes under the bed. To draw Kristina’s attention back to me, I begin to moan from an imaginary headache. "I hate being sick."

  Concern appears on Kristina’s face.

  "Did you get caught in the rain yesterday and catch a cold?"

  "What rain?"

  "What do you mean…" Kristina says slowly. "Did you not hear the news? I think there is not a single person in New York who does not know what happened yesterday. They are reporting it on TV. And the university is in an uproar."

  "What happened?" I ask nervously. I feel Mathias stroke my shoulder so that I will not worry.

  "It rained yesterday only on our area, can you imagine? Only around Saint John’s. In Queens it just drizzled and that was it. People are confused."

  I have no idea how strange that is. So many things happen in the world already, and the weather brings surprises every single day. I drop my head onto the pillow and sigh loudly. And then Kristina fires off the next piece of news.

  "And today, not far from the alley, a guy was beaten up," she says. Her Russian accent speaks louder than the words themselves. I catch notes of concern, as if there is something everyone should think about.

  I remain silent. I wait for her to tell me herself. And she really does give details that somehow make my hair stand on end. I know Mathias is behind me. His hand is still warming my shoulder. I turn and make a dissatisfied grimace called "You are in for a serious conversation." What was he thinking?

  "If it were not for the physical injuries," Kristina continues, "they would have already taken him to a mental hospital. And under the current circumstances," she laughs sarcastically, "the whole university might end up there."

  "Thank you, my dear Mathias."

  "And do you know what?" She bends down so close to me that I feel her minty breath.

  "What?" I press the blanket tighter to my throat.

  "Rumors have started that the university is cursed and that ghosts live here."

  I cannot hold back and burst out laughing, because I know which "Canterville" ghost stands behind all this chaos. If Mathias has a good sense of humor, he could joke with Kristina right here and now.

  "So what happened to that guy in the end?" I ask, already in Mathias’s interest.

  "Psychologists are working with him. However, they cannot find out anything, because the guy was so scared he is afraid to open his mouth. Oh!" Kristina rushes to the door. "I have been chatting with you too long! The girls are waiting for me downstairs. See you!"

  As soon as the door closes behind Kristina, Mathias regains human form. For a couple of minutes we simply look at each other. Then he reaches for me, and I, overcoming the wild desire to throw myself into his arms, begin to get dressed.

  "I was going to tell you."

  "Are you crazy?" I say, upset.

  "That girl… that Powell," he says, pulling on his jeans, "that damn psycho was harassing her. I was not thinking about my appearance at that moment. I just wanted to protect her."

  I look at his chest until it disappears beneath his T-shirt.

  "Fine," I surrender and pull him toward me by the belt, "but promise that you will be careful from now on. I do not want them to experiment on you later."

  "I promise," Mathias whispers and kisses me firmly.

  I try to remember the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin and hair, the warmth of his hands. Only I could fall in love with a guy so foolishly.

  "See you tomorrow?" he says, still holding me.

  I nod and watch as he slowly melts into the air.

  That dream again.

  Every night I lose my superpower. Everything repeats like a spinning record. An elderly man grabs me by the throat and pulls my power out of me like a cocktail through a straw.

  I wake up covered in sweat. In the first seconds after waking, I believe the dream so much that I automatically stick my hand into the wall to make sure it passes through.

  I overslept the first lecture again. Anna was late too. She came halfway through and does not look the same as on previous days. She even betrayed her style and neglected her pink outfits. Today she is wearing skinny jeans and a thin white sweater.

  I remember that I still have not gotten her textbooks. She is sitting with a notebook, and her pen is unusual, with fluffy pink feathers on the cap. When she notices me, she waves it. I scribble a note and pass it through the students. She reads it and gives me a thumbs up.

  Without waiting for the lecture to end, I leave the classroom and head to the library. If it is still closed, even better. Ten minutes until the bell. I manage to collect the books from Anna’s list and step out into the corridor, where I run into a little boy. He is standing right near the wall from which I emerged.

  The dark-haired, brown-eyed boy looks at me for a long time and then slowly says, "Are you a superhero?"

  "Yes, probably…" I manage to say, and I flinch at a ringing female voice.

  "Hey, Chris!"

  I recognize the girl with the French braids as an old acquaintance, Louise. I note that every time we meet, she manages to completely change her style.

  "Hi, how is life?" I say when she is already standing beside me.

  "Great!" she smiles widely, then notices the boy. "And what are you doing here?"

  "Waiting for my mom," the boy answers confidently. "And he," he points at me, "is a superhero!"

  Louise seems delighted by such a comparison. Anyone can become a superhero, no matter what abilities he has. For Louise’s imagination, it would be enough that I helped an old lady cross the street. So be it.

  "Real men are rare in this world."

  "It is nothing," I say modestly.

  Louise crouches down in front of the boy and says gently, "Sweetie, you should stand right by the library doors so your mom can find you faster."

  The boy obediently walks away.

  "That is our librarian’s son," Louise explains.

  We stroll for a bit, chatting about trivial things, and then I rush to Anna at the student café, where I myself had arranged to meet her.

  I hold a beautiful girl’s hand. In part it brings me pleasure. I know that girls whose inner world needs tenderness, care, and peace react especially strongly to such gestures. And I am ready to give her all of that.

  Krista is not the first in my life. Before her, back in school, I had a couple of fragile relationships. All right, I will not lie. I dated three girls, but I will call them "first attempts," because they did not take me seriously, just as I did not take them seriously. It was all on the level of trial. Bright wrapper, but the candy had a slightly bitter taste. You cannot eat many of those. And they are not for everyone.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  With Krista everything is different. She attracts not only with her beauty but also with her ability to win people over. I did not get enough of her yesterday. I want to repeat everything. So I am already forming an entire plan in my head of how we will spend this evening.

  "Krista, who called you during the lecture today?" I ask casually.

  "Oh, what questions we are starting to ask," Krista laughs. She just wants to tease me, because she immediately answers, "It was my brother."

  "You have a brother?" I do not hide my interest.

  "Yes. A younger brother."

  We turn toward the student café. It is called that because it is located on the territory of Saint John’s and no one except students eats there. Professors and other staff prefer the dining hall inside the university.

  I replay the information in my head.

  "A brother, then… and does he have…"

  "If you mean what we have, then no. I am the only one in the family with a superpower. And my brother does not know about it," Krista says cheerfully and calmly, but her eyes reveal tension. I see it clearly.

  "How old is he?"

  "Only twelve."

  I open the door and let my girl go first. "My" sounds so proud. I want to realize that Krista is mine now and I will do everything so that our relationship grows stronger.

  Someone from our group is standing in line at the counter, and Krista waves cheerfully at them. Her smile shines like the sun. Her lips without lipstick, I already ate it off, her flushed cheeks look natural. And the blue blouse with butterfly sleeves suits her very well. I am not a fashion expert, but I can note that Krista has good taste.

  We walk through the entire hall, and at that moment I begin to feel uncomfortable. Hundreds of eyes are looking at us, as if they know something more than they see. My palm sweats, and I grip the tips of Krista’s fingers so she will not notice. I smile at her when she looks at me. Sweat appears on my forehead.

  "No," I think, "who could know that I am the one who beat that psycho in the park. This is paranoia."

  My thoughts absorb me and dissolve me within themselves. There are many voices around, but I do not hear them. I do not notice anyone. I feel only Krista’s tender fingers and slowly calm down.

  Suddenly someone’s hand grabs my right wrist. I turn my head and see Powell. Her large eyes are wide open, and I sink into their gray abyss as if paralyzed.

  "She recognized me," flashes through my mind.

  And Powell speaks.

  "So it was you?"

  I unfold Chris’s note for the fourth time and make sure I did not mix anything up. But where the hell is he? The café is swarming with students. They keep trying to sit at my table, and I have to repeat the same thing to everyone. "I am waiting for my boyfriend." I am angry, because if Chris decided to test my nerves, it is a bad idea.

  I begin nervously drumming my long nails on the table. Something falls to the floor. I cannot see what it is, but I bend down to pick it up if I can find it. The craftsmen laid colorful glossy tiles on the floor, so nothing is visible.

  "I need to pee! Let me go! You torturer!" I hear and immediately straighten up, forgetting everything. Megan is sitting opposite me and smiling politely. But the thoughts do not belong to her. They belong to the fluffy Bichon Frise. Just what I needed, dog thoughts.

  "I saw you without company and decided to sit down for a minute," Megan admits, then lifts the dog’s paw and waves it at me. "And this is Lucius. You are not allowed to come to the university with animals, but for me Dad made an exception."

  "Dad?" I wrinkle my nose.

  "Yes. He is the rector of Saint John’s. Conrad Doran."

  "I love his slippers," the dog notes mentally, and I barely hold back a laugh.

  "Oh… so meeting you is an honor for me?" I say with deeply hidden sarcasm.

  "Oh, come on," Megan strokes the dog’s fur. "I am popular at our university because of Dad, but sometimes I want to drown myself because too much attention is exhausting."

  "It does not look like it," I think.

  "If you want, we can go clubbing tonight," Megan suggests, and she seems serious. How can I refuse politely?

  "If she does not take me where I need to go right now, her expensive skirt will be ruined forever," the dog’s thoughts save me.

  "It seems your Lucius needs to pee," I nod at the dog.

  Megan looks into his face, trying to figure out how I knew.

  "Really? How did you guess?"

  "I read his mind," I say honestly, but Megan laughs heartily, thinking I am joking. Fool. However, she decides it is better to believe it, and we say goodbye. And she does not remember the invitation. Hooray.

  Chris is not here. Did he perish in battle for a book? Or get stuck between walls? How this slowness irritates me.

  It is hot. I roll up the sleeves of my sweater to my elbows and fan myself with my notebook. I notice familiar faces. We study in the same group. I see they are already in love. So fast.

  The couple heads in my direction, and I strain my hearing out of curiosity. I have nothing to do while Chris is gone. And soon I do not regret reading their thoughts, because the guy reminds me of yesterday.

  "No," he thinks, "who could know that I am the one who beat that psycho in the park. This is paranoia."

  Invisible one. I rejoice.

  They are about to pass by, and I must not miss my chance, so I grab his wrist firmly, and our eyes meet. In such moments I can hear a million of his thoughts at once. But no effort was needed.

  "She recognized me," that is all I need.

  "So it was you?" I say.

  "Sorry? What are you talking about?" he does not understand.

  "Yesterday. In the park," I do not release his hand. "You saved me."

  The guy exchanges a look with the girl. They seem confused. I invite them to hear me out, and Chris appears just in time. I wave at him, and he, out of breath, walks to the table.

  "Sorry, Anna, I was delayed," he hands me the books. "Only one is missing. I could not find it."

  "Thank you," I say and turn to the guy and the girl. "Can she be trusted?" I ask the invisible one.

  "Yes, absolutely."

  "This is Chris. His superpower is walking through walls. And I read minds, as you probably already understood."

  The guy loses his ability to speak.

  But the girl reacts quickly.

  "And this is Mathias. He is invisible. And my name is Krista, and I also have a gift."

  What a meeting. We sit at the table and talk about it for some time. I tell how I met Chris, and Mathias tells how Krista demonstrated her gift. During this story we learn what power Krista possesses.

  "So there are four of us," Mathias concludes.

  "No, five," I correct.

  Even Chris forgot.

  "The magician as well."

  "Right!" Chris slaps his forehead. "He controls fire. He studies with us. You probably saw him."

  "He has a mole on his right cheek," I recall, and Chris smirks. Yes. All girls are observant, and Krista proves it by remembering him as well.

  "He always sits somewhere on the edge during lectures," she notes.

  Mathias throws her a disapproving look but says nothing.

  "It is possible that there are many more of us."

  Mathias looks at me. His thoughts are sad. He is confused and understands nothing.

  "I always thought I was simply born different from everyone," he reflects aloud. "I never even imagined there were other people with similar abilities."

  "What if the whole university is superhuman?" Chris jokes, but neither I nor Krista and Mathias find it funny.

  Suddenly I hear from the neighboring table, "Quiet. Listen to what they are talking about," followed by giggling.

  "We need to find a place where we can talk calmly," I whisper, and everyone agrees, because the looks from nearby tables become more noticeable.

  Krista reminds us that the lecture starts in a few minutes, so I suggest exchanging phone numbers, creating a WhatsApp group, and staying in touch at any time of day. No one objects.

  Mathias and Krista leave first. Chris calls me, but I am busy with the books, and then suddenly I notice the magician. I decide it is better to try talking to him myself and say to Chris, "All right, you go ahead. I will catch up."

  "Okay," and Chris runs off.

  For a minute I watch the magician. I do not dare approach while he is talking to someone else. At first glance he does not seem friendly, so I am very nervous despite all my composure.

  But then he goes outside. I rush through the entire café to catch up with him. I hit some guy with the door and forget to apologize. He mentally curses me, but to hell with him. The magician turns toward the alley and walks slowly along the pavement, so I quickly catch up. Good thing I chose comfortable sneakers instead of heels today.

  "Wait!" I shout.

  He stops and puts his hands into his pockets, as if hiding something.

  "We are in the same…"

  "I know. Anna Powell," he says and smiles.

  Does he think I am hitting on him? Oh no.

  "And you?"

  "Jason," he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you."

  "You too," I shake his hand and quickly release it, pretending to adjust my backpack straps. "Actually, I want to talk to you seriously. About your show."

  Jason frowns and resumes walking. I trail beside him.

  "You were not performing tricks. You are superhuman."

  He laughs.

  "What makes you think that nonsense?"

  "I am the same."

  "Oh really? And what can you do?" He still does not believe me.

  "Before introducing yourself, you thought, 'This chick clearly wants me. But I should think about it.'"

  Jason freezes and thoughtfully taps the toe of his shoe against the pavement. I see his throat move as he swallows with effort.

  I decide to finish it.

  "There are three more. We want…"

  "Shut up," he spits angrily without looking at me. His finger rises in front of my nose. "You are you. And I am on my own, got it? And do not you dare read my thoughts again, doll."

  With that, he leaves me alone. I have never felt so disgusted inside.

  That evening everything goes according to plan. I invited a girl on a date. We have already gone through the necessary rituals. First impression with appearance, flirting, an expensive bouquet of flowers, movie tickets, and, of course, kisses in the back row of the cinema during romantic nonsense. She allowed me under her sweater to grope her. Her small, sweet lips were like caramel, a taste remembered from childhood. After the unpleasant encounter with Anna, a drop of tenderness, peace, and oblivion is exactly what I need.

  Now we walk hand in hand along the main and longest street in Queens, Queens Boulevard. We pass the shopping center. I see that Megan is eager to go inside and eat ice cream, but I am already tired of excessive romance. I want privacy, and without thinking long, I turn onto 55th Avenue. Fewer cars, less noise. If only I could find a suitable little park, and the deal is done.

  Megan Doran herself, the daughter of our rector, will end up in my bed among the first at this university. Let her think she is lucky. And me too.

  For such an occasion I found the brightest shirt in my wardrobe with an unusual print. I rolled up the sleeves to my elbows and unbuttoned a couple of top buttons so that beautiful Maggie would melt while admiring me.

  Street after street, alley after alley, and not a single square or park where I can at least lead her toward inviting her somewhere deserted. On the way I listen to her meaningless female chatter. I feel like saying, "Just be quiet already."

  "Look!" she suddenly cries out excitedly.

  I turn my head in the direction of her graceful finger. We see smoke.

  "Something is burning," Megan suggests.

  "Let’s run. Let’s see," I pull her along.

  We run up and see a fire. A private house is burning. Neighbors have gathered around, and on the edge of the sidewalk onlookers crowd together, filming the blazing house on their phones. Firefighters are trying in vain to deal with the flames, and some are attempting to get inside. I look around and see a woman. She is hysterical and tries to rush back into the burning house. Stop. She is pregnant. What is she doing?

  "My daughter is in there. My daughter!" the woman screams at the top of her lungs.

  I unbutton my shirt and take it off in a flash.

  "Jason, what are you planning?" Maggie asks in fear.

  "Do not worry about me," I hand her the shirt and run into the house, ignoring the firefighters’ shouts. Behind me I feel the crowd collectively hold its breath.

  In some places the roof has already collapsed. I rush through the house like a madman. Fire does not scare me. I can breathe the smoke. The flames tickle my arms, chest, back, but they do not burn me. I fear for the girl, so I hurry.

  Something crashes deep inside the house. I rush there. Fire blocks the way, but I make an effort, split the burning wall into two halves, and get inside. It is a child’s room. The girl is lying on the floor. Without wasting time, I grab a blanket and wrap the small body tightly, press her to me, and head out. Under the fierce dance of flames everything collapses, and even if I can handle the fire, I cannot say I am insured against being crushed by a heavy beam. I will not burn, but I can die from a blow, and the girl will die either way. I begin to hurry.

  The woman’s screams guide me, and finally I see a hole in the wall, or maybe it is a window without a frame. I climb through and we are outside. People rush to me and immediately take the girl. I stand there sweating and wait for her to regain consciousness. Megan throws herself around my neck and cries. I stroke her back and comfort her. Who would not enjoy feeling cared for?

  "She is alive!" someone shouts.

  I relax and fall to the ground, realizing I have no strength left.

  "Are you all right?" a firefighter asks.

  "Incredible!" a female voice exclaims. "Look. This guy came out of the fire, but there is not even a hint of burns on his body."

  "Jason…" Megan breathes. "You are completely unharmed. But… how is that possible?"