Page 83 of The Diamond in the Rough

I swallowed. “Well… I’ve been using my abilities at work, and it’s made them more… sensitive,” I explained. “I just… didn’t think about the fact that this might trigger something.”

“On die cut pieces?” Sam asked.

“No—but if one of you touches them first, it might.” I felt my face flushing.

“We can just look,” Melissa offered.

I shook my head. “No, that’s not fun. I—I’d rather be the one not touching things. Or only touching some of them.”

Melissa looked like she might object, but then decided not to, taking a bite of pizza instead.

“Your psychic powers or your magic ones?” Sam asked.

“Psychic,” I answered. “My magic seems to be… well, normal for me.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Melissa asked. “Having them be used like that?”

I frowned. “Like what?”

She fiddled with a piece of crust. “Making you see crimes and stuff,” she replied softly.

“I—” I hesitated, trying to figure out how to answer honestly without freaking her out. “I don’tlikethat part,” I replied. “But at least I get to help people.”

“But it makes your powers worse,” she said, and her voice had gotten softer.

“I don’t know that I’d sayworse,” I replied, a little surprised to find that I’d felt a little defensive about what I was doing. “Stronger, yes. But…” I thought for a minute. “I guess it’s a little like when I first started trying to control them. Except now it’s more like…” I swallowed. “Like I have much more control over how much I get from things. I can’t controlifI get things, but I can decide to see more or to stop seeing things, usually, once it gets triggered.”

Seeingwasn’t accurate, of course, but it was hard to talk about my abilities in a way people could understand without talking about havingvisions.

“That’s good, yeah?” Sam asked around a mouthful of meat-lovers pizza. “Being in more control?”

I nodded. “I think so,” I replied. “I don’t like the fact I’m more likely to trigger, them, though, so if either of you has any thoughts on how I might stopthat…” I trailed off hopefully.

“Sorry, bro,” Sam said, shaking his head.

Melissa, however, looked thoughtful. “Do you remember what Dr. Nayak used to say?” she asked me.

“I remember she told me to build a brick wall,” I replied. “But I don’t havetimeto do that every single time I want to use my abilities.”

“No,” she said. “Not that. The part about it being ours and no one else’s.”

I nodded, still skeptical. I also remembered Dr. Nayak saying that we should compartmentalize our magic, which was what had led me to the walls in the first place.

“Well, I know she also said some other stuff that I don’t think was particularly useful,” Melissa admitted, reaching out and taking a breadstick, which she began to pull apart into bite-sized pieces that I knew she’d dip into the tomato sauce one at a time. “But that part I’ve found helped me to figure outhowto control my magic.”

“How?” I asked.

“I mean, what works for me probably won’t work for you, because we’re not the same person,” she replied. “I thought about what it made sense formeto do—not what it made sense fora personto do. Me. What I like to do when I’m stressed or worried to calm down.”

I frowned at her. “So what do you do?” I asked.

She dipped a piece of bread and then ate it, smiling a little as she chewed. “I imagine a candle flame,” she said simply. “Like one of those big smelly ones.”

“Like in the commercials?” Sam asked. “With the windchimes and blowing curtains and some white lady breathing in deeply?”

Melissa laughed, her cheeks coloring. “Yeah, like those,” she replied. “But not that. Just a candle, in the dark, the flame reflecting a little off the glass sides, the wax pooling in the middle. Sometimes it smells like roses. Or sandalwood. Or pine. Whatever I feel like.”

I was frowning. “But how does that help you control your magic?” I asked, confused.