“What’re they like?” He knew most foreign exchange students, at best, disliked their host families. For whatever reason, the accommodation process stunk, and every year, one or another of the students left early on account of the families.

“They’re wonderful. There are three my age-Jack, Carter and Leena. Very sweet.” She smiled as she mentioned their names.

He didn’t recognize them, though he knew a couple Turner Point families-the few who risked the hill were districted to go to West. More comfortable with the path of their conversation, he kicked his chair back a notch. His hands fell to the seat where he could drum underneath.

“So what made you pick the U.S.?” His fingers tapped out a beat from the school’s fight song.

She bit the corner of her lip. “A boy.”

Wyatt opened his eyes wide. He’d never considered she might have had a boyfriend already. Here for a boy? Here? Who? Where? Rambled thoughts kept his attention elsewhere and caused his foot to slip.

He missed the support bar.

In his correction, he overcompensated, and before he could catch the table, he caught air. With a crack, gravity won and the tile exacted payment on its behalf.

“Wyatt!” The voice echoed through his head, pounding in his ears. Be quiet, he wanted to say. He reached over his head, rubbed at the spot that throbbed, ached and burned all at the same time.

“Wyatt?” The same voice reached into his mind.

The repetition added to the heartbeat which jolted and bumped within his head. Please make me the invisible man!

Warm palms pressed against his cheeks. Despite his utter embarrassment, his hands met hers at his temple. The bump of jewelry told him they came attached to Mira.

“Owww.” Eyes closed, his cheeks burned under her touch.