"Hey!"

  I turn around. It is the girl whose back I had been staring at for two whole lectures. She has a beautiful back, I must say.

  She walks up to me.

  "Hi."

  "Hi," I reply.

  She smiles.

  "If you are new here, you need friends, right? No one wants to end up alone," she says, looking straight at me.

  I am not a shy person, but for some reason, right now, I suddenly feel like I am standing still and… getting embarrassed.

  "Do you think I would make a good friend?"

  "I do not know. But you seem like a kind guy to me. Maybe a little timid. Either way, we could get to know each other better."

  She starts walking, and I fall into step beside her.

  "So you are saying you are good at reading people?"

  "I feel people. I see right through them."

  "An X-ray girl?"

  She laughs, and I hold back, waiting for an answer. I am not like everyone else, and I allow myself the thought that maybe I am not alone. My eyes, however, are smiling. I can feel it myself.

  "No. I am far from being an X-ray girl. It is psychology."

  "Interested in it?"

  "I have read a lot of books."

  "Then why did you choose Information Security?"

  "It was not my choice."

  So here I am, starting to look for something we have in common, and it is definitely there. I did not exactly dream of enrolling in this major either.

  "Your parents made you?" I ask boldly.

  "More like convinced me that I would never find a better profession," she says, hopping up onto a narrow curb and walking along it, using her arms to keep her balance.

  We walk down the alley. Lectures are over. The first stage has come to an end, and the day is long, and I need to find something to do. No way I am spending the rest of the evening in a stuffy room. So I am really glad to take a walk with a beautiful girl, especially when the conversation flows so easily.

  "I can imagine how it went. They made the decision once and for all, and refusals were not an option because they were doing it for your own good and blah blah blah."

  "You sound like you know my parents," she says, looking at me in surprise.

  "It was the same for me."

  Suddenly, she jumps down, blocking my path. For a moment, we stare at each other. Her blue eyes study my face intently. My blood freezes in my veins, and I cannot move. The urge to disappear returns, right in front of her. I struggle with all my strength to control my power. Why is this happening? I feel a connection to this girl, but I cannot define what kind.

  "Krista."

  "What?"

  "My name is Krista. Want to go for a walk? I know a place where there are no people."

  I am already following her.

  "Are you planning to kill me or rape me?"

  "Both."

  Of course, it is a joke. A sweet girl like Krista would not hurt even a fly. The place she leads me to does not look scary at all. Quite the opposite. First, we step onto a small clearing, then head toward a tiny grove. There, among massive trees, rises a metal structure. It is hard to tell what it was built for. It looks like a diving platform, except you can only jump from it into a ravine.

  While I am thinking, Krista is already climbing the rusty ladder.

  "Is this a structure for suicides?"

  "Oh yes. And now you are about to find out," she admits with a comical expression.

  And I believe her and immediately start trying to talk her out of it.

  "Are you seriously scared?" she laughs so brightly that my ears ring. But her laughter does not irritate me.

  "Come on!" she shouts. "Climb up here. Do not be a coward."

  Fighting my anxiety, I climb onto the terrifying structure, walk along a narrow, wobbling beam, trying not to look down, jump from the beam onto a plank-covered platform, and end up next to Krista.

  A minute later, I understand why we climbed to the height of a three-story building, risking our lives. The view of Saint John’s University from here is breathtaking.

  "So," Krista says in a news-anchor voice, "here we are, alone, eight meters above the ground. In front of us is our university, where we will have to study for at least four years. And I still do not know your name."

  I start scolding myself.

  "Sorry. I am an idiot. My name is Mathias."

  "Mexican?"

  "Latino. I am from Rhode Island."

  Krista squints into the distance. I hear her repeat the name of the state and then mumble something under her breath.

  "Is something wrong?" I ask, worried.

  "No. I am from Florida. And you… have you lived in Rhode Island your whole life? Were you born there?"

  "That is what my documents say. If you think we met before, that is unlikely. I would have remembered you."

  Krista turns serious. She leans on the railing, but it looks so unreliable that I start worrying again.

  "Careful. You might fall."

  "I am not afraid," she says.

  "You are crazy," I let out a nervous chuckle, turn my back to her, and start to leave. "Let’s go. This is not the best place to get acquainted."

  Silence.

  I take a step, then feel as if I am struck by electricity. My parents raised me to be a gentleman. It is my duty to offer her my hand and help her step across the gap, and here I am behaving like a complete brute. I have no idea how to act properly around a truly beautiful girl, and I am ready to curse myself for eternity.

  I apologize, turn around to offer my hand to the annoyed girl. She has every right to be annoyed, judging by my behavior. But Krista is gone. The unreliable railing is gone too.

  I force myself to look down and… oh my God. She is there.

  Brand-new backpack, and not a cheap one either. But price and brand are just showing off. In reality, it is a Chinese factory with clumsy tailors.

  The corridors have long been empty, and I am still struggling with the zipper. I need to close that pocket at all costs. I stick my tongue out to the side, my face red with anger. The zipper refuses to cooperate. I lean against the wall, completely forgetting that when I get nervous, I lose control of my power. All I care about is the damn zipper.

  "For fuck’s sake, just close already!"

  I notice a pink figure and freeze for a second. Probably passed by or turned the corner. I am alone again.

  I lose it when the zipper cuts my finger. Blood appears. I push off and fall straight through the wall. Luckily, the classroom is empty. Otherwise, I would never be able to explain that trick.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I curse and keep trying to zip the backpack. But now I feel that I am not alone. I lift my head and see that same "pink spot." In reality, it is pink boots, a pink backpack, and a pink headband. A blonde stands in front of me, blinking her long eyelashes.

  "She saw it. She saw it. She saw it," I repeat to myself.

  "Chris, right?" she asks, taking the backpack from me. Now I remember her. She answered questions more than anyone else. She looked like an empty-headed doll, but in lectures she made an impression.

  "Yes. Chris Stevenson."

  She works her magic on the zipper, and a minute later the pocket is closed. When she hands the backpack back to me, I am still sitting on the floor.

  "My name is Anna. And yes, I saw you walk through the wall."

  What does "and yes" mean? I did not ask her anything.

  "It is a trick," I mutter, looking at the wall behind me. "There is a button or something…"

  "I have never felt so stupid," I think.

  "Do not be stupid. The wall is solid. There is no opening."

  I roll my eyes. This Anna is definitely strange. I get up, sling the backpack over my shoulder, and get ready to leave. New shooters with 3D graphics are waiting for me.

  "Just pretend you imagined it, okay?"

  A chill runs down my spine at her look. Anna is acting extremely strange, cornering me. Now her pink outfit does not seem so frivolous.

  "Hey, what is wrong with you?" I say, backing away. You cannot pin me against a wall. I can pass through any thickness. But I have never done it in front of someone.

  "Your shooters can wait. This seems more important than your stupid games."

  I have small almond-shaped eyes. Have you ever seen an almond turn into a walnut? Anna has. I was thinking about games, but I did not say it out loud.

  "Hey, baby, you are scaring me."

  "You can walk through walls, Chris. And I read minds. We are from the same pot. And now that I know I am not the only one like this, I suspect that the superpower given to us by ‘God’," she raises two fingers on each hand, making air quotes, "did not appear by accident. And God, apparently, has no idea that someone took over his job. Do you get it?"

  "N… no," I stutter. Anna is so close that I can smell her strawberry gum.

  "Idiot. These abilities did not appear for no reason."

  I smirk.

  "So what, we are future superheroes? Oh yes. A villain will show up wanting to take over the world, and we will be at the center of it all, using our superpowers to stop him."

  "Moron," Anna snaps and walks away.

  I hear her footsteps fading. Only then does it sink in that not only I have a power, but she does too. We are in the same city, the same university, the same faculty…

  "Anna! Anna! Wait, I get it now!"

  Mathias turns his back on me, and I decide that there will not be a better moment. I do not want him to see the process of falling. I am not a suicide, but the only way to prove that he and I are the same is this.

  He is clearly uncomfortable and wants to leave. At the perfect moment, I push the old, shaky railing and fall down with it. I do not hear him scream. Then I hit the ground, feeling the planks pass through my organs. Sharp pain shoots through me until my body convulses, and I sink into darkness.

  For the first few minutes, I am truly dead. That is why I cannot tell how much time passes, and I cannot control the recovery process. It probably depends on how severe the injury is. Sometimes it takes seconds, sometimes hours. Twice, I woke up in the morgue. The fear I feel when I open my eyes in a cold, dark container is indescribable. Luckily, my parents know about my ability and take me home soon after. Doctors are left baffled by their own mistakes. Most often, I end up in an ambulance, but there everything gets blamed on blood pressure or a weak pulse. The hardest part is explaining how the wounds heal. My body can regenerate completely, down to the smallest scratches. All I have to do is wash off the blood and keep living.

  This time, I did not lie there long. When I open my eyes, I see familiar surroundings, and a plank painfully presses against my organs. I try not to move, or I will pass out again. The plank has to be removed, or I will not heal. That is the downside of my power. Even an immortal person is vulnerable.

  Where is Mathias? I hope he did not run for help. I did not plan on demonstrating my survival ability to the whole university.

  I hear rustling leaves. Footsteps approach.

  "Krista!" Mathias rushes to me. "You are alive! Oh my God, you survived. I am calling an ambulance. Do not move." He pulls out his phone, unlocking it while muttering, "I told you the railing was unreliable."

  I force myself to speak. Unfortunately, I know what a dying person feels like. Talking when pain tears you apart is almost impossible.

  "Do not call."

  "What?"

  "Just pull the stick out of me."

  Mathias freezes. His fingers stop on the screen.

  "I am not doing that. Are you insane?"

  "Listen to me, you damn invisible man!" I grit my teeth. I am not rude, but this is not the time. "Pull it out, and I will explain everything."

  It works. Mathias grabs the plank with both hands. I see sweat on his forehead. With a sharp pull, he removes the foreign object, and within a minute I feel my organs regenerate.

  I am left standing in a torn shirt and covered in blood. I get to my feet, happy to breathe normally again.

  "Scared?"

  Mathias loses the power of speech. He stares at me, then his gaze drops lower, to my chest. No. Below my chest. I look down and see a bone sticking out. Two broken ribs. With two fingers, I put them back into place, and now I am completely whole. Mathias looks like he is about to throw up.

  "I saw you disappear," I admit. "I followed you after the second lecture. You went to the restroom, turned the corner, and looked back. You noticed me but decided you imagined it, right? And then… you just vanished. First your arms and legs, then your head. I saw the restroom door open and close. Do you understand now why I brought you here?"

  "You…" Mathias swallows hard. "You are immortal?"

  "Yes, Mathias. I can heal."

  We step outside. The lawns are full of students. The sun is blazing, not a single cloud in the sky. I take off my jacket and walk in just a crop top, revealing my pierced stomach. I draw attention, even though Chris is walking beside me. No one knows I met him just minutes ago.

  "Do you think there are others like us in the world?" Chris asks, grinning from ear to ear. I would not be so cheerful in his place.

  "If there is you and me, there are others. No, I do not believe this is a coincidence."

  I walk slightly ahead, scanning the people around us. Ordinary people. Nothing special. A girl with a snow-white laptop lies on the grass, smiling. Probably sharing her plans on WhatsApp. A little farther away, a group of guys and girls in sportswear joke loudly and laugh. A handsome guy walks past me, looking at me promisingly. I cannot help but smile back.

  "Where are we going?" Chris brings me back to reality.

  "I do not know. Let’s sit at a café, get a pastry and a latte. And think about how to find others like us."

  "So we find them. What then?"

  "We will know when we get there."

  I am firm in my reasoning. Chris’s thoughts make it hard for me to relax and talk to him like just a cute guy.

  "I have known since childhood that I can read people’s damn thoughts. Even animals. You know what? I hate animals. I always thought I was a monster because of that. Yes, the gift helps me study, but it is not a gift. It is a curse. I hear them constantly. It confuses me, especially when I stand with my back to someone thinking."

  I stop, and Chris almost bumps into me.

  "I cannot tell when someone is speaking and when they are thinking if I cannot see them."

  "Did I just hear it, or is your goal really…" Chris does not say it out loud. He finishes the thought.

  "Get rid of the ability."

  Yes. That is exactly what I want.

  "These abilities make life harder. I want to be normal. And to become normal, I need allies."

  "Why do you think I am the one you need? I like walking through walls. It helps me escape danger."

  "I am not forcing you to give it up. Just help me. Let’s find the others, find out where these powers came from, and then it will be easier."

  As we pass a summer student café, we fall silent for a moment. A girl in ripped denim shorts stands on a table, shouting something we cannot hear. Guys around her whistle and cheer. Then Chris distracts me again.

  "Why did you not ask your parents? They must know where these powers came from. Maybe we were part of some experiment and…"

  "They will not tell me," I cut him off and drop my jacket. Chris, like a true gentleman, picks it up and hands it to me. Our hands touch. He does not let go right away.

  "You can read minds."

  I snatch the jacket and keep walking. I do not answer, because in a distant part of the campus I see a crowd. Something is happening there. We forget the conversation and rush toward the commotion.

  We reach the center of the circle in seconds. Students part easily. What we see shocks us. Chris stands close behind me. I feel the knit fabric of his T-shirt tickle my shoulders, his hot breath burn my ear as he says,

  "Do you think he is a magician?"

  "I doubt it."

  In front of us, a guy entertains the crowd, shooting fireballs from his mouth onto an oil-soaked cloth wrapped around a metal pole. I see no source of the fire and realize it is part of him. I tense up, trying to hear his thoughts, but it is impossible. Too many people. Their thoughts tangle in my head.

  Who is this guy? My instinct tells me I am not wrong again. He is one of us.

  Beauties. Hot, sexy students. That is who attracts me. That is who this show is for.

  Everyone watching thinks these are tricks. And I am happy to let them. My goal is achieved. I see how the eyes of slim, full-breasted girls burn. One of them will definitely be in my bed tonight.

  I imitate fire coming out of my mouth. I hold a lighter only so people do not suspect I am special. My mommy begged me to show my ability less. But I am not the kind of guy to sit quietly through lectures and stay unnoticed. From day one, I want fame. People must recognize me. One snap of my fingers, and any beauty should be at my feet. That is how it was in school, and that is how it will be here.

  Everything goes fine until I notice two people in the crowd. They catch my attention because they are not cheering, not waving their arms, and their faces show no emotion.

  My eyes lock onto the blonde’s gaze.

  "Did they figure out who I am?" I ask myself mentally. Immediately, I see her nod.

  Damn. That unsettles me.

  To distract the crowd, I launch a huge fireball into the sky. It almost dissolves, leaving behind a black cloud. While heads are tilted upward, I pack up and retreat, trying not to look at the blonde and her companion.

  I manage to hide inside a building. No one notices how I get in. I find a restroom and throw the equipment into the trash. I think this is the first and last time I put my gift at risk. This place is not as simple as school. First, I need to figure out who studies at Saint John’s. Then I can shine as a "magician."

  My mom calls my personality impulsive. She is right. I am stubborn, unpredictable, a natural leader. I have a need to dominate. Everywhere. Always. No matter how justified it is. I live by the priorities "stronger, higher, faster," even when it makes no sense. I am a volcano. And nothing will change that.

  So, of course, I decided to show my eccentricity again. And, as it turns out, it was a mistake.

  I hide in the restroom for ten minutes, fighting a headache and nausea. The last "trick" drained me.

  I pull my hood up and step into the corridor. Empty. I relax and head for the exit. That is when the surprise awaits me.

  There are three of them.

  In front is a girl in sports leggings and a tank top, showing off her flat stomach. Simple flexible bracelets on her wrists, the kind tennis players wear. Her hair is pulled into a tight ponytail. She chews gum, blowing big bubbles.

  Behind her are two guys. One is Black, taller than me, with biceps bulging under a tight gray shirt.

  I swallow.

  The other guy stands to the side of the "Hulk." Dark hair, dark eyes, a big nose, tan skin, and bright white teeth. Looks Italian.

  Both guys smirk, arms crossed. They are confident.

  "Hi," I wave awkwardly.

  The girl spits out her gum and steps closer.

  "Hi, Fire Lord. Ready to get acquainted?"