Chapter 1

He noticed her as soon as she walked into the room. How could he not? Obviously, she was new. She had to be. He'd definitely remember seeing someone like her at this school before. Aidan would never call himself a fashion expert (especially not where people could hear him), but he'd have to be a moron not to notice that this girl wasn't dressed like most of the other students. While everyone around her was swathed from head to toe in khaki, white, and crisp pastels, she was dressed completely in brown. And yet, she somehow still managed to be the most vibrant one in the room.

Her scoop-necked copper tank top was layered over a cream one that inadvertently showed off her lightly muscled arms. She seemed neither the sporty nor exercise equipment type, but her body was toned. It looked strong, capable. Her coffee colored skirt hung low on her hips, exposing a sliver of her stomach, and flowed in loose waves down to her ankles, the hem just touching the bronze bangles that tinkled as she walked through the room. She'd slipped her feet into a pair of chocolate sandals with a hint of a heel that made a soft clicking sound as she walked. Her jewelry was simple: a long bronze chain looped her neck with some kind of pendant that lay nestled in her generous cleavage; a ring of bangles laced her wrist; and a thin gold ring with a topaz stone circled the index finger of her right hand. Even her skin was a tawny brown that most of the girls at the school spent hours in a tanning bed trying to achieve. Aidan figured hers was probably natural because it lacked the hint of orange the other girls got from the fake tanning. Times like these made Aidan damned glad they didn't have to wear uniforms like other boarding schools.

But that's not what amazed Aidan. Okay, so he really liked the fact that her necklace drew your gaze to her boobs (not that his eyes would really need help with that). What really got him was the fact that she walked into the classroom—fifteen minutes late, mind you —and acted as though she had been doing it every day for years. That new kid nervousness that usually glows around a student for days like a neon sign was completely absent from this girl. Maybe she moved around a lot and so she was used to being the new kid. Could be she was an army brat or something. That would explain why she seemed so comfortable being the new kid. But that wouldn't explain the rest of the class's reaction to her.

Or lack thereof.

Ms. Davis was usually crazy strict about punctuality. He couldn't really imagine her completely ignoring someone who walked into her class 15 minutes late when he'd seen her, on more than one occasion, bitch someone out for walking in rather than being seated when the tardy bell rang. Aidan's gaze followed the girl as, without even a glance at the teacher or a word of apology for interrupting, she walked to the back of the classroom.

But that was the thing, though. She hadn't interrupted. Not even a little bit. And it wasn't just Ms. Davis who was acting strangely. The entire class seemed to be completely uninterested in the arrival of fresh meat. That just wasn't like them. On his first day of school here, he could practically feel their curious stares and whispers tingle like tiny pinpricks all over his skin. Their interest had been more than palpable, it had been vicious. And he'd actually made an effort to fit in! He'd dressed like them, talked like them, came to class on time, and generally did whatever he could to blend. And still they'd treated him like an alien for his entire first week. But in walks this girl who he can tell at first glance is a gazillion times more interesting than he'd been on his first day, and they don't even look at her. In fact, he realized with a quick scrutiny of his classmates that he seemed to be the only one who noticed her at all.

What the hell? How come nobody has even looked at her? We haven't had a new student in our class for years; you'd think these people would be a little more curious.

His eyes returned to Hayley.

Especially when the new kid looks like her.

At first glance, she definitely didn't seem to be prep school material. And that was very much a good thing to his way of thinking. He was intensely intrigued by her; couldn't help it. He could sense that she was different from the other students her. And it wasn't just her clothes or her hair or whatever. It wasn't even just her attitude—that nonchalance that she wore like a coat. There was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. If he wasn't wary of being cliché, he'd say she had an "air of mystery". Screw it, it wasn't like anyone was reading his thoughts, and honestly, there was something mysterious and almost magical about her. Something powerful. Something so ... enthralling about this girl. Seriously, what the hell was she doing at Crestwood?

Of course Aidan knew that the quickest and most effective way for him to find out what he wanted to know was to do a brief scan of her mind to learn the basics about her, but he was reluctant to do so. He almost didn't want to know the details. He didn't want to find out that her differences from their classmates were solely superficial. At the same time, the desire to know more about her was gnawing at him; demanding that he learn more and learn it quickly. So he focused and reached out to make a link with her.

And nothing happened.

In all the years that he had been reading minds, Aidan couldn't remember ever encountering one that was blocked from him. As a toddler, people's thoughts had come to him in quick, vague images without him even reaching for them. As he got older, he began to hear the thoughts as if people were actually speaking them; each thought, like spoken language, in a distinct voice and colored with various emotions coming to him with little if any effort on his part.

He tried to connect again, this time pushing harder. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to put this much effort into reading anybody (or into much of anything for that matter). He'd been at the school long enough and was so familiar with his classmates' thoughts that they practically came to him without him needing to reach for them, sometimes whether he wanted them to or not. And these days, he was usually leaning more toward the not; his classmates weren't really known for their profundity.

But now here was this girl that he couldn't read. Not even a little bit. Not even a smidge. Not even at all. Was there something wrong with him? Maybe he'd lost his ability. Could be he woke up without it this morning and just hadn't noticed because he hadn't tried to use it. Just to be sure, he scanned a couple of the other kids in class. It was just as easy as usual. So the problem was definitely not him. Must be her. He tried the girl again, pushing even harder this time.

Still nothing.

Confused didn't even begin to describe how he felt. And, honestly, he was starting to get more than a little bit frustrated. He tried again, this time putting all his energy into penetrating the wall. It was then that, without warning, she turned to look at him; their eyes met and locked. Any thoughts Aidan had about reading her mind vanished. Shit, any thoughts he'd had—period—were completely obliterated by her gaze. From the moment their eyes met, he couldn't think about anything.

They stayed like that, locked in each other's eyes until, at the sound of the bell, they both jumped, breaking the connection. Hayley snapped up her stuff as quickly as she could and scurried out of the room, making sure to avoid any more eye contact with Aidan. He watched her go while distractedly gathering his things and trying his damnedest to figure out what to make of this new girl. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but one thing was for sure—this year would definitely be more interesting than he'd expected.

Hayley's first thought upon entering her room was Oh great, a slob. Her second thought, after a brief inventory of the clothes that were falling out of every one of the six suitcases in the middle of the floor revealed not one polo shirt or pastel colored item of clothing was Thank the gods she's not one of them!

"Hey! You must be Hayley. I'm Brigid Quinn." Brigid grabbed Hayley's hand and shook it enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically if you asked Hayley (not that anyone ever asked her). Even against her unbelievably pale skin, the girl's smile was bright enough to blind you. Hayley was sure the excitement couldn't possibly be real. Surely, no one could be that excited about anything. Eyeing her new roommate warily, Hayley wondered if one of them might have been better than this perky slip of a girl standing in front of her.

If she didn't know better, she'd swear that her new roommate was part fairy or something. She was a tiny little thing—4'11" tops. And she couldn't possibly weigh more than 85 lbs. soaking wet ... in the clothes of an Eskimo ... on the coldest day of winter. At 5'5" (in her shoes), Hayley rarely felt tall, but standing next to Brigid, she felt like an NBA scout might come knocking at her door any minute.

"How'd you like your first day of class? I have to say, I'm not at all sad that I missed the first day. There's nothing more boring than hearing first day speeches from the teachers. Except maybe hearing it for 4 years in a row! Especially Ms. Williams. I mean, seriously, what makes her think that anyone in the class really cares about her cats? The woman really should look into retiring soon. She has to be at least 80 by now.

My first day here completely sucked. We moved here when I was 12 and I soooo did not want to come here. But my dad was offered a new job and so we had to move. We're originally from Kiltimagh, Ireland. Do you know where that is? Probably not. Most people don't. It's a small town in western Ireland. We were just there this summer. I already miss it, even though we just got back today. That's why I missed classes today, because we hadn't arrived back in the States yet. Anyway, when my parents first told us about moving, I really didn't want to leave my friends back at home, but my brother..."

As curious as Hayley may have been about her new roommate, she had already tuned out Brigid's 30-word-per-second monologue around the third or fourth sentence. She'd had to; it was a self-preservation thing. Brigid didn't really seem to mind though. Truthfully, she didn't even seem to notice. She was busy unpacking as she talked; moving from suitcase to suitcase haphazardly. She was used to people tuning her out and rarely needed anyone to listen to her. She just liked to talk. And talk. And talk. It drove most of her family crazy because they also liked to talk and Brigid hardly ever let them get a word in edgewise. The only person who seemed to have no problem with and, oddly enough, actually seemed to listen to Brigid's monologues was her twin brother, Brandon. Unlike the rest of the family, Brandon was naturally quiet and didn't mind having Brigid do all of the talking.