Zachary was a large hulking boy-child who took delight in torturing others and knowing that his rich daddy would get him out of trouble. He was a classic bully type, with a little bit of rich boy entitlement thrown in. Zachary would often use the spare seat as a home for his book bag or feet. Currently, he was leaning back in his chair, trying to sneak a look at his cell phone.

I sighed inwardly, knowing no teacher would want to sit a new student next to him. Zachary caught me looking over at his desk and grinned in his normal cat-eat-canary way. I couldn't stand that smug smile and I stiffened as I noticed Zachary's gaze lingered on my breasts. He began nodding his approval and then winked. I scowled at him as he began to make a kissy face, recoiling back in my seat before turning to face the teacher.

Gross.

My cheeks felt hot as I remembered all the unpleasant things that Zachary had said or done to me over the years. Caffeine was buzzing around in my system and I still felt tired. I called out when I heard my name. Mr. Burke paused to look at me a bit longer than the other students.

Dang, I am getting stuck with the new kid, I just know it.

"Mr. Reynolds you can enter now," Mr. Burke shouted.

The door opened to reveal a young man who was somewhat tall and seemed almost skinny at first, but the longer I stared at him, the more I realized that not to be so. Even under his oversized uniform, I could see the line of his strong shoulders and arms. Despite his youthful appearance, he honestly seemed too old to be in high school. The new student had lightly tanned skin, a wide nose, and large brown eyes covered by huge round glasses. His reddish-brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail that ended just at his shoulders. It was rare to see a guy with hair that long anymore, especially in this school. At first glance you could easily write him off as a nerdy gamer guy, except his hands were covered in calluses and small cuts. What was most curious about him was his bleach-blond bangs, which only seemed to be in one small part of his hair. I wondered if the sun had bleached parts of his hair.

The new boy smiled and he seemed almost radiant. It was like he was the sun.

What the hell is wrong with me? I thought as I watched him walk toward Mr. Burke's desk. My heartbeat began to quicken and I could almost feel my brain pulse inside my head. It's just the caffeine, I reassure myself. It had to be just a lack of sleep and too much caffeine. A wave of déjà vu hit me like a two-ton truck. I wondered if this new guy was on television, or if he was some popular internet kid. No one else in the class was reacting like he was famous, just the normal silent judgment we reserve for new kids.

The class sat still, all waiting for Mr. Reynolds to say something to let us know what tiny, high school stereotype we could shove him into. The good thing about sitting in the back is no one really notices you, but you can people-watch to your heart's content. I was happy that at this moment, I was located in the very back corner so that no one would see how intensely I was staring at the new boy. I was trying desperately to remember where I had seen him before.

Mr. Burke muttered at the new kid to introduce himself quickly and the boy turned to the class, shrugging to keep his backpack on his shoulder as he faced us.

"Hey all," he began with a small wave. His voice was sweet but husky. He coughed, seeming nervous. "My name is Casimir Reynolds. I'm, um, 18. I have been abroad for a while and need to finish up my high school credits. So yeah, here I am," he finished somewhat lamely as he laughed. Some of the other kids in the class laughed as well. I knew many of my fellow students could relate to a family moving all around.

"Anything else?" Mr. Burke prodded, as he leaned against his desk, seemingly eager to finish homeroom and move on.

"No, sir," Casimir said with a shake of his head and a small smile. I couldn't keep my eyes off him.

I know him... but from where?

"Fantastic, okay then," Mr. Burke said dryly. Our homeroom teacher scanned the room for a moment, his eyes settled on me. "Looks like there is an empty seat next to Diana. As long as you don't mind sitting in the back of the room?"

"Looks great," Casimir grinned as his eyes caught mine.

Suddenly it felt like I couldn't breathe. Those warm brown eyes locked onto mine and I could feel a heat spread all over my body. I hastily looked down at my books, tearing my gaze away from his. I knew I was probably as red as a beet. This is not me, I scolded myself. I did not act this way around boys. I was the short-tempered, unapproachable grump who never slept. I had never felt this way before. I could count on one hand the number of dates I had been on, or people I had been attracted to over the years. I realized I was breathing heavily and the sounds around me had become muffled by the loud beating of my heart. I began tapping my nails on my books, staring at my chipped nail polish. I had forgotten to remove my favorite black paint and replace it with a school-approved color. I began to feel hot even in the mild temperature of the classroom. I could feel every drop of sweat, every beat of my heart, every breath seemed loud and ragged.

Casimir had set down his bag and pulled out the chair next to me. He sat down and I could suddenly smell him. It was amazing. He smelled warm and earthy, much like the soap my grandfather used oddly. I could also smell cinnamon, which was weird. I had no earthly clue as to why I was obsessing about all of this. This could not be normal. Most people I assessed with fleeting fancy, but with Casimir, I was greedily taking in all the details, as if I was afraid I would forget. I just knew we had met before but it wasn't like me to forget a person. I felt like years had passed since he walked in the door. Decades since he sat down.

Oh god, he is saying something.

"Nice to meet you, um, Diana?" He whispered, leaning closer to me. I froze up. I could vaguely hear Mr. Burke droning on about future school events. I took a chance to look over at the new boy. He was smiling, it was a nice smile, kind of sad also. The rush returned and I knew I was glaring, why was I glaring?

After a long pause, I muttered a hasty 'same here' at him, but it sounded more like 'samhar.' I felt my brows furrow and my lips tighten. I was becoming embarrassed at how I was reacting to this strange boy. Why was my body betraying me?

Oh man, maybe I'm sick? Casimir looked at me quizzically. He must be wondering why I am glaring at him, he thinks I hate him. Why do I care? I bit my lip and glanced downward. I tried to focus on Mr. Burke's lecture about late homework. My fingers continued their nervous tapping routine.

I guess I should take this moment to better explain my secret talent; that is, besides my gift for endless caffeine-guzzling and weird dreams. Zola calls this talent my 'Bullshit Radar', I would just call it strange. I have the ability to sense others' emotions. A simple way to describe it was that I act kind of like a human mood ring. It comes to me in waves or flashes, and sometimes even colors depending on how strongly someone is feeling. I could tell when people were happy, sad, scared, and a myriad of other feelings. The more useful part of that power was that I could also tell if others were being honest. This was the part of my powers I had decided to always keep to myself, my deepest secret. Because I found out rather quickly that no one wants to be friends with a person who always knew when you were lying. Sitting next to Casimir my radar felt nothing. I had never felt nothing before, and this was very scary to me. My nerves ramped up and I began to feel a touch of nausea. I gave up my nervous finger tapping to place my head in my hands.

Oh god, please don't puke. I had to get out of here.

"Am I boring you, Ms. Massey?" Mr. Burke inquired loudly.

Oh wow, Ms. Massey, that would be me. The entire class turned to stare, of course. I look up to see the teacher I worked so hard to impress, angry that I would waste his time. I wasn't sure what to say in response, I just felt ill. Mean snickering and awkward coughing filled the silence.

"No sir Mr. Burke, of course not," I gulped, as soon as my brain could somewhat form the sentence. Mr. Burke had finished the announcements and was actually starting class. I noticed my fellow students had begun to pull out their essays ready for review. The teacher was about to turn around to write something on the board when my nausea returned. I stole a quick glance at Casimir who had a small notebook for writing on his desk, pen in hand. I turned away before we could exchange eye contact and stood up quickly, too quickly. My chair clattered behind me, making an awful crashing noise that brought the entire classroom to a halt once again.