Summer dug her fingernails into her palm, hoping the physical pain would distract her from the emotions swirling around the classroom. “No,” she replied softly. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I can’t seem to keep my shields up.”
He purses his lips in interest as he notices by her body language that she’s definitely having problems with this. He watches her with interested eyes before tapping his fingers on the tabletop. He understands what she’s going through, his power was one of the most complicated ones to get a grasp on.
“I’d say that it’s normal for people who have just started….but you haven’t exactly just started.”
She shakes her head, loose strands of red hair flying about her face. The classroom is mostly clear now with the end of the school day, and that helps some. “Something changed this summer,” she mutters. Relaxation comes by increments as she packs up her things, avoiding his gaze. She’s not really sure she wants to know his emotions in any greater depth.
Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she keeps her head down as she makes her way out the door. She mumbles, by way of excuse, “I need to get outside,” but that’s only part of the truth. The other part is that she’s embarrassed. Having a backlash episode in the middle of class only reinforces what Stiles said: she’s supposed to be better than this.
