Lost in Thought (12 page)

Finally, I said, “You’re talking about God.”

I’d even managed to say it only slightly incredulously because, really, what other explanation could there be?

’d never been particularly religious, because Aunt Tessa wasn’t, but I liked to think I was faithful, in a way. I believed there was something greater than us out there, that being a good person— I being polite and kind to others, being grateful for and sharing your good fortune, treating the Earth and all its creatures with respect— would somehow be rewarded, and that karma would revisit people who weren’t. In my head, I called that higher power “God,” and I mostly tried to stay on His good side. I did use His and His son’s names blasphemously all the time, but I was pretty sure, in the long run, that wouldn’t count too poorly against me. I did not, however, expect anyone would ever tell me I’d been particularly gifted by Him.

“God,” I repeated. “You’re telling me that we…have mental gifts from God.” I couldn’t help but think back to how Headmaster Stewart had said we Sententia were
not gods
and shouldn’t play at it.

“God, Vishnu, Brahman, Allah, Mother Nature,
collective consciousness,
yes,” he said seriously. “Whatever you prefer to call it.
Something
greater that connects us all, past, present, and future, and that science cannot—yet—explain or accept. Something connected you to Ashley Thayer. What do you see, by the way?” he added. “I only know what

88 | C A R A B E R T R A N D

Jill told me, what she could sense, that you’re a Grim Diviner. She doesn’t—I don’t know how your gift manifests.”

“Didn’t Dr. Stewart tell you?”

He made a derisive noise. “Headmaster Stewart takes her pleasure in telling me as little as possible, absolutely nothing if she can get away with it. Before you got here, all she said was, ‘Cartwright, there’s a new student starting tomorrow.’ I knew it was important because she was talking to me at all. So no, she didn’t tell me about your gift, or any conversation you’ve ever had with her.”

I would puzzle over that one later. Headmaster Stewart seemed not to like Carter and his aunt, and I couldn’t imagine why. “I…” started to answer his question then hesitated. I’d never openly discussed my visions before, but I thought if there was anyone I’d want to tell, it would be Carter. Or Amy. But I
couldn’t
tell her, so Carter it was.

“I get…dizzy. That’s the only way I know it’s going to happen, and then I have a vision. Of what happened, or is going to happen. It’s very fast, only a few seconds, and I sometimes…
know
more than I can see. Yesterday, I saw Ashley. She’s going skiing and will fall on some ice and…slide head first into a light pole. Do you think it will really happen?” I added, ever hopeful that he’d say no. He answered, instead, with a question.

“Have you had other visions that you
know
were true, that happened as you saw them?”

I thought of my parents, and the horrific, absolutely accurate vision that brought me here to Northbrook and face to face with my peculiar gift. “Yes,” I whispered. “It was my parents.”

He reached across the table and put his hand over mine. I’d long since stopped scribbling notes in my book, but I was surprised at the touch nonetheless. His hand was larger than mine and, exactly like I’d felt earlier about his arms around me, warm and strong.

L O S T I N T H O U G H T | 89

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I knew he meant it. “And I’m sorry to have to say that you’re probably right about Ashley too, then. The future is never definite, but a specific vision from an accurate Diviner makes it…highly probable.”

I spent a moment mourning the highly probable death of a girl I didn’t know while enjoying the comfort of Carter’s hand on mine. Reluctantly, I withdrew it and looked back at my list.

“What can you do?” I blurted out then thought better of it. “Or is it rude to ask that? I’m sorry, if it is.” To my relief, my impertinence was rewarded with a laugh.

“To a stranger? Yeah. It’s kind of like asking how much money someone makes, or a woman’s age, or a man’s…shoe size. But we’re friends here, so it’s okay.” He winked at me, and I blushed because now I felt a little like an ass, and also because I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about, well, you know—his shoe size. I decided to cover my embarrassment with boldness.

“Okay. So how big
are
your shoes?”

He laughed again, that delighted, dangerous smile playing over his face.
“Very.
But to answer your real question, technically I am a
Re-cordatio Perficio,
though my real function is Historian.”

For a few seconds, all I could think about was my first day here, when Amy had suggested that in the future I’d be an “historian of the everyday,” and here I was, face to face with an Historian of the Weird.

I filed that thought away onto my ever-growing list for later and said, “You’re going to have to help me with the lingo here. Is that first one Latin? Like ‘Sententia’ seems Latin.”

“Exactly. My job is to catalogue historical evidence of Sententia and research new reports. I’m good at it partially because of that first one. In modern terms, we say I have a photographic memory.”

I was sure my eyes widened. That would explain a lot about him.

But I had to ask anyway. “For real?”

90 | C A R A B E R T R A N D

“For real.”

“Prove it.”

Without hesitation, he recited, word perfect, my notes from yesterday and list of questions. That I had only barely held in front of him for a few seconds.

“But that might not be exact,” he added with a smile, “because your handwriting is atrocious.”

“The scary thing is that it
was
exact, and my handwriting
is
atrocious. Wow. I mean, it’s not a very long list, but I think I believe it could have filled the page and you’d still have gotten it.”

“Probably,” he replied, but his mild tone told me what he really meant was
undoubtedly.
“So, which one of those do you want me to answer next?”

“I guess the first one we haven’t gotten to yet…how many Sententia are there?”

“Now? Some number of millions. Even point five percent of the world population numbers in the tens of millions…we estimate Sententia represent around a tenth of a percent, which is still over six million.”

“Wow. I mean, I guess a tenth of a percent isn’t really very much, but six million people is a lot of people.”

“It is. But honestly, that number is just an educated guess. And it doesn’t mean all of them are…active, so to speak. Probably half of them are dormant carriers of Sententia genes.”

“Then why are there so many of us at Northbrook?” I asked.

“That’s
not
a coincidence, obviously. Is this some…Sententia training school or something?”

“Well, mostly you’re here for a great education,” he said, and I couldn’t help but get the sense he was stalling. It worried me. “Northbrook is, first and foremost, an excellent college preparatory school.”

L O S T I N T H O U G H T | 91

“But?”
I interrupted him. “There’s a ‘but’ or something here and you’re not getting to it. Why is that?” I studied him. He looked…wary again. That couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

“We’re all here because of…the last question on your list,” he finally answered. “This school was established by the Perceptum as a place for generations of Sententia to meet one another, make connections, and, if necessary, learn how to manage their gifts and, most importantly, be discreet about them.”

“Interesting,” I said, because it
was
interesting. So Northbrook kind of was a Sententia training school, at least in part. “So what
is
the Perceptum? And why are you so hesitant to talk about it?”

“I…” Carter started then paused. “I’m not hesitant about the Perceptum,” he said. I didn’t fail to note the contradiction between his words and the hesitation as he spoke them, but I kept that to myself.

“At all. It’s just that this is the hardest part to introduce to unidentified Sententia. Sometimes it…scares them.”

“Okay, well by saying that you’ve totally scared me, so spill it.

Please. What is the Perceptum?”

“It’s how the Sententia are organized, or networked. It also serves as a governing body.” After a beat, he added, “And technically, I work for them.”

I took a while to think about this, because on the surface, I didn’t get why a Sententia organization scared some people. So I came to the conclusion that one of the things the Perceptum did
was
scare people.

I just didn’t know why and I wasn’t sure I was ready to either.

Carter’s voice interrupted my spinning thoughts. “I’d offer a penny for what you’re thinking, but I already know that’s not enough. I’m sure I can’t afford the going rate, so I’ll just have to wait until you’re ready to share.”

“That’s right,” I said lightly. “But…I think you’ll need to wait a little longer. It’s late. The bookstore is probably crowded with students,

92 | C A R A B E R T R A N D

and it will be hard to get out of here without being noticed. And don’t you have to work?”

He gave a gentle little laugh. “I
am
working, remember? Not,” he added hastily, “that spending the day with you feels much like work.

But to answer your question, Jill is covering my regular shifts at the bookstore today and tomorrow. I am entirely your devoted servant for these two days.”

Well didn’t
that
sound good,
I thought to myself, and then kicked my left shin with my right foot, because I. Was. Still. Pissed. At. Carter.

And irritated with my brain for not sticking with the program.

“You don’t have to be angry with me, you know,” he murmured.

I glanced up at him sharply. “I…uh, what?” was my eloquent response. Did he read minds too? Shit!

He was looking at me in that contemplative way he had, but there was something more than that, something that made my nerves tingle and my heart beat a little faster than it should have. “Sometimes you’re not very good at hiding what you’re thinking…it’s like I can see the thought processes as they flow across your face. I’m pretty sure you were reminding yourself you’re supposed to be mad at me. And that you literally kicked yourself to emphasize it. I…don’t want you to kick yourself when you think of me. I
am
sorry, Lainey. For not being up front with you. For having to watch and wait to see what you might do. I didn’t want to.”

He paused then and, if possible, looked at me even more intensely than before. I thought I might have held my breath. “Well, no, that’s not true. Honestly, having to watch you is the best assignment I’ve ever had, but I
couldn’t
tell you. What if you really weren’t Sententia?

What if you didn’t manifest? I had to wait and know for sure, not because I’d been instructed to, but because I would have hated to drag you out of your perfectly acceptable reality and into mine if I hadn’t needed to. But I’m glad you are part of this world, because if you

L O S T I N T H O U G H T | 93

weren’t, I don’t know how long I could’ve pretended friendly indifference, how long before my
wanting
to tell you won out over my better judgment.”

“I…understand,” I said, and I realized that I did. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t have to be
angry
with him…but there was still too much that I didn’t understand. I also wasn’t sure I could trust what I
thought
he was saying. I was afraid it was wishful thinking, and a little more afraid that it wasn’t.

So I decided just to ask. It was better to know than to wish, right?

“And what do you mean, about…about…”

As I groped for the right question, he laughed softly, a despondent little laugh. “I mean, Lainey, that—despite being probably the worst idea I’ve ever had—I’d like nothing more at this moment than to kiss you, if you’d let me.”

My breath caught, and I’m sure my cheeks flushed. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, though at least half of me thought it was a
great
idea.

He smiled, a woeful kind of smile that matched his laugh. “Neither do I, but I still want to.”

I had no idea how to respond, nor how I wanted to, exactly. I was afraid though that if I opened my mouth I would say, or do, something I wasn’t quite ready for.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to say anything. I just thought that’s what you were asking and…that you ought to know. I was
never
faking wanting to be around you, Lainey. I meant what I said yesterday, that you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You might be an Academy student, but you’re so far from an Academy
girl
. I’m not entirely sure how to deal with that, but I’ll figure something out. If I’m lucky, you’ll be
my
girl. When you’re ready.”

94 | C A R A B E R T R A N D

So he
could
read my mind, whether or not he knew it. I smiled tentatively and echoed words he’d spoken to me only yesterday. “You’re not shy either, are you, Carter?”

The dangerous grin returned. “Not at all.”

AMY POUNCED AS soon as I opened the door to our room. “Where have you been?!”

“I…” was all I got out before she continued the attack.

“Did you know that you are, in fact, pregnant with Carter Penrose’s baby, and that’s why you passed out at the bookstore yesterday, after fighting with Jill?”

“WHAT?” I squeaked. Only six weeks here, and already I was
pregnant?!

“That’s what I said.” She nodded somberly for emphasis.

“That’s…ridiculous!”