Chapter 3

Jordan stared up at his ceiling, contemplating dust whorls.  Something had been nagging at him for some weeks now, but he couldn't pinpoint it.

He knew anything as persistent as this had to have something to do with the blond in the next room.  Jordan concentrated for a moment; then he decided that no one could be doing anything inappropriate that quietly.

Undoubtedly, Lisa was baffled by his sudden surge of over-protectiveness; after all, he had never objected to her late-night excursions, and they were probably more dangerous.  But, he mused, he hadn't had to deal with her taking care of herself in regards to a man nearly ten years her senior before.  Even the most nonchalant older brother would have issues with that.  Especially when said people resided in the next room.

Jordan groaned.  Really, his brain was going to implode.

After examining the ceiling for a few more moments, he rolled over and buried his head in the pillow.  He had a biology exam the next morning and he needed sleep more than his sister needing guarding.

When he slept, the dreams came.

Jordan could recognize that he was in a room, but the heavy mist shrouding everything masked anything else.  When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out two shadowing figures in the front of the room, next to a desk.  Everything appeared to him as though from a great distance.

He narrowed his eyes at the two people before him.  They were arguing, or rather one of them was arguing, and the other merely calmly listening.  The calm one he didn't recognize, and was to deep in shadow to discern any features.  The violent one, though, was that…Lisa?

The room went black.

Jordan's eyes snapped open, and he found himself once again staring at the ceiling.

"What the hell?"

Jordan's door was very closed; the kind of closed that all siblings as the "open door and die" type.

I sighed.  Jordan had been increasingly strange and distant lately; and I'd caught him looking at me oddly a couple of times.  And he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.
As I kept an eye out for my parents and waited for Aidan to finish in the shower, I catalogued the development of his behavior during the past weeks.  He had begun by becoming very over-protective.  That wasn't like him at all; he was really quite laid-back, despite recent evidence.  Some of it was only natural; I was living with a 25-year-old man.  But Jordan kept watching me as though expecting something to happen.

Which was very curious, since James had informed me just that morning that people were beginning to ask questions about me and my rather unique abilities.

My reverie was interrupted by Jordan's emergence from his room.  He did look awful; the shadows beneath his eyes were even darker this morning in contrast to the pallor of his face.  He shuffled towards the bathroom door before halting in front of it.

It was shut, but that didn't prevent steam from leaking out.

Jordan narrowed his blue eyes, then turned to me.

"If he uses all the hot water, I'm killing him, then you."

"Why me?" I asked innocently.

"Because you had to wake up a 25 year old who has stolen half my clothes, uses three quarters of my bathroom time, and is likely using all of my hot water."  His tone was a little testy.

I merely arched my eyebrows.  "A bit grouchy this morning, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Jordan muttered as he barged into the bathroom and shoved Aidan out.  "My turn," he stated to the green-eyed man.

Aidan, dressed only in a towel, turned to me.  "What's with him?"

I shrugged.  "Who knows?  He's been getting weirder lately."  Eyeing Aidan and his state of undress, I pointed towards my room.  "You'd better get in there before Mom comes up.  She'd die."

"Of lust?" inquired Aidan.

I simply groaned.  Why, of all the things to awaken, did I have to choose a narcissistic boytoy?

There are few things in this life I despise so much as Geoffrey Chaucer.  Particularly when I have to write analytical papers on his poetry.

"James," I asked hopefully.  "Do you know anything about 'Gentilesse?'"

"I'm a computer.  I know code, I know precisely why Windows is the work of the devil, and I'm quite good at complex mathematics.  English literature, however, is a bit beyond even me."  James was in his usual sarcastic form tonight.

"Well, what good are you?" I complained as I let my head rest against the desk.

"None whatsoever, in my opinion."  Aidan, naturally, felt it necessary to include his two cents worth.

"And what would be the purpose you serve?" James somehow managed to imply the raising of eyebrows.  Which was quite interesting, considering he didn't have any.

"I at least can help with homework."  Aidan said airily, as he examined his hair for split ends.

"Oh, really." I stated skeptically.  "Then why did you tell me to ask the 'supercomputer?'"

"Because you don't properly appreciate me," he replied.

"How does one improperly appreciate someone whose original purpose was to, ah, serve the needs of lonely women?" inquired James aloud.

Aidan's response was less than intelligent.

"Shut up."

"Why doesn't it surprise me that the computer talks, too?" asked Jordan from the doorway.  If it was possible, he looked even more exhausted than usual, and was leaning against the frame for support.

"Maybe because you have a functioning brain?" asked James.  "Which, I might add, is particularly refreshing, since I've had nonstop contact with him."

"Aidan just rolled his eyes, and Jordan smiled.  "I thought I could provide my little sister with some assistance."

"Yeah?" I droned as I stared at the blank screen.

"'Gentilesse' is about Christ."

"Joy.  Now do you have any idea how to stretch that into three pages?" I inquired.

"Not particularly."

Jordan entered his own room and collapsed on the bed.  Ugh.  Biology exam.  Pain. Torture.  Massive memorization of cat organs.

Not to mention that little blackout in American Lit today.

The professor probably hadn't noticed, he thought as he rolled over onto his back.  If he did, he chalked it up to another student zoning out during the Faulkner lecture.

"They had to start during the day, didn't they?" Jordan muttered, closing his eyes.

"What had to start during the day?" Lisa's voice brought Jordan back to reality with a mild yelp.  She was standing in his doorway.

"Don't you have a paper to write?"

"Don't you need to tell me what the hell is wrong with you?" Lisa's tone was calm, but Jordan could tell she was both angry and worried.

"No" he replied simply, closing his eyes again.  "I'm going to take a nap."

"I don't think so."  Jordan opened his eyes when he felt a massive weight on his chest.

It was the dog.  The big, St. Bernard dog.

"Why," he gasped out, "Is Kurdis on me?"

"To provide initiative.  Now, are you going to talk?" Lisa smiled sweetly.

"YES!" he shouted.  "Just get him off!"

Lisa grinned and pulled the dog off  "So, talk."

Jordan blew out a breath, trying to regain his air supply and stalling for time.  There was no good way of explaining the presence of his psychic powers.  Then again, Lisa possessed unusual powers of her own.

"I'm psychic," he blurted out.

"What?!"

Then again, maybe she wouldn't understand.

"You are absolutely insane."  He had to be delusional; one mysteriously powerful teenager was enough for one household.

"Quite possibly," Jordan replied calmly.  "But not about this."

"You don't really think I'm going to buy this are you?  What if it’s a case of 'psychic envy?'" I asked, skeptical about the idea still.

"'Psychic envy?' What the hell is that?" Jordan was incredulous.  "And I bought your little power."

I narrowed my eyes.  "You had proof."

Jordan raised his eyebrows at me.  "You want proof, I take it?"

I could see that he was about to launch into an argument that I would inevitably lose, so I interrupted him.  "Perhaps you had best tell me what this psychic power entails."

"Sure," drawled Jordan, leaning back on his pillows.  "I believe it's generally known as clairvoyance.  Sometimes precognition, or…"

"I think I get the point," I said dryly.  "So how 'bout some proof, JoJo?"

"Number One, don't ever call me JoJo. " He shuddered before continuing.  "Number Two, it's not quite that easy."

"Sure," I said.  I wasn't really all that convinced yet.

"Okay, okay."  Jordan rubbed his temples; I could tell that I was frustrating him.  "Tomorrow, you have a history test.

"Oh my God, call the Psychic Friends Network!"

Jordan rolled his eyes.  "You want to bear with me here?"

"Yeah, yeah."  I plopped down in a chair and crossed my arms.

"At the history test, the slimy kid who sits next to you will attempt to copy your answers.  You'll respond by hitting him over the head with your textbook."

"That's specific."  I paused.  "I can certainly picture myself hitting him over the head; he defines smarm.  But cheating?  He studies constantly."

Jordan shrugged.  "You'll see."

I dropped her bag on the floor of my room.  "Now that was just weird."

"As Jordan predicted?" inquired James.

"Yeah," I mumbled as a sat down in the easy chair, staring off into space.

"I have a name to attach to your little stalker now.  You know, the one that's been tracking you across the internet?"

"Really?"

"Lyssandra Claybourne." James replied.

"If that name isn't straight out of a soap opera, I don't know what is." I snickered before pulling to my feet.  "We'll need to discuss this later.  Right now, I'd better go see Jordan."

"What's wrong with here?" asked Aidan.

"It's not something I want to discuss with the poster boy for Euroboy magazine." I called out as I left the room.

"I'm insulted!"

"Why?" asked James, genuinely curious.  I was glad I didn't hear the ensuing argument.

I knocked on Jordan's door.  "Jordan?"

"Yeah?" came his voice from inside the room.

I rolled my eyes.  "May I enter your domain, O Great Prophet?"

The door opened swiftly, nearly hitting me.  Jordan stood in the doorway, wearing his glasses and holding an open textbook.

"Yes?" he inquired.

"I think I need you to tell me about what you've been seeing."

His eyes widened; he hadn't been expecting that.  "Why?"

I tried to explain as best I could what James and I had been finding online.  Jordan listened carefully, and then tried to answer my request.

"I can't really describe anyone to you," he said.  "Everything in my dreams are in shadow; I barely recognized you.  But I think the other person was also female."

"So the other person could be Lyssandra Claybourne?"

"Yes.  It seems likely."

I nodded, and smiled.  "Thanks, Jordan.  I'd better go do some more research, then."

Jordan's brow furrowed.  "Be careful, Lisa.  I have a feeling that this isn't as straightforward as it seems.

Chapter 4
 

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