It is the second time he has paused his reading and discussion to look at me, like he is giving me an opening to interrupt him. I don't take it, and he goes on. I am still unsure about continuing with school. It seems wrong to even be here. I am out of place. Like I am playing a game, pretending at being something I'm not. What am I? The question won't go away. Monday morning Father had to return to Boston. It was too risky to draw attention with his absence. They both said I should resume my normal routine, too. Doesn't a normal life go hand in hand with a normal routine?

I am not normal.

The group exchanges thoughts. Allys comments. Gabriel comments. Even Dane comments..

"Jenna?" Rae prompts.

I shake my head and remain silent. Rae doesn't pressure. It is not her style. She nods at Ethan to continue. He shifts his cross-legged position on the desktop and looks at me for much too long before he finally returns to the pages in his open book.

"Even though he left after two years, Thoreau decides his time at Walden is a success if only because, I learned this, at least, by my experiment, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind — " He stops and looks at me again. I feel my agitation with him grow. His dark eyes drill into me and won't turn away, waiting. "He will put some things behind— " he repeats. More waiting. The silence is thunder. Dane smirks but everyone else remains quiet.

I slam my book shut and glare at him. "He will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within him; or the old laws will be expanded, and interpreted in his favor in a more liberal sense, and he will live with the license of a higher order of beings,"

Ethan claps his hands three times. "Thanks for joining us."

He takes his teacher-collaborator role way too seriously. "Thanks for forcing me," I answer.

"So, you're good at memorization, but do you have an opinion? Is there any way to pass that invisible boundary besides dropping out like Thoreau did?"

Why is he baiting me? I feel my eyes narrow, and my voice is close to a growl when I speak. "Nature and human life are as various as our several constitutions. Who shall say what prospect life offers to another? Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?" Ethan's face relaxes, his eyes soften, like he has lost his mad-dog bead of concentration. But I haven't. "Although that's just another rote memorization, isn't it?" I add. "But since you might be a higher order of some sort of being, maybe if you try really hard, you can pull an opinion from it without your head exploding."

I stand to leave. I've had enough. In Dane's words, I'm out of here. But even as I stand, I am wondering, Do I look normal? What does a normal angry person look like? Should I sit back down? What am I doing? What am I? That again.

Another stalemate as I stand awkwardly at my desk, my hands trembling, my anger fusing with my doubts.

"Short break, Rae?" Allys suggests.

"Sure," Rae answers, jumping on the suggestion quickly.

I take it as a justified release and head for the door. Footsteps follow close behind. A trampling down the narrow hallway, past Mitch, who looks up in surprise, but we are already out the door and down the steps before she can respond.

Ethan grabs my arm from behind and swings me around. "What's your problem?"

"What's yours? You sulk when I interrupt you, and you become an ass when I don't."

"I don't get it. On Saturday you were kissing me like I was the last boy on the planet, and today you won't say two words to me. Not even a hello. What did your grandmother say after I left? Stay away from the dickhead?"

A lifetime has passed since I kissed him on Saturday. I am a different person now. Maybe a different thing. How can I explain that to him? I look at his face. I see everything. Every expression, wrinkle, twitch, doubt. More than I should. Is that the difference between a neuron and a neural chip? Can I now see deeper than the normal human perceptions? Does Father know about this? Or maybe this is normal? Was it always there for me to see, and I am only just now truly looking?

The questions may drive me mad. Even now, he wants to kiss me. I can see that, too. Would he still want to kiss if he knew about me? Everything in the universe says it's not right. That's my invisible boundary. I look at his hand, still clutching my arm, and I wonder if it will be the last time we ever touch. Should I even be thinking about these things? Stay away.

"Back off, loser." Dane appears behind my shoulder.

"Stay out of this, Dane," Ethan shoots back.

Dane pushes Ethan's shoulder. "Go beat up someone else, lowlife."

Ethan lets go, his eyes blinking to pinpoints, his hand held in front of him like it's on fire.

"Dane, it's not what — " Before I can finish explaining, Ethan is already gone, headed toward his truck in the parking lot.

Dane shakes his head. "You know what he did, don't you?"

I look after Ethan. It's better this way. But it doesn't feel better. "Yes," I answer.

"I doubt it, or you'd stay away from him. He nearly killed a man. Beat him up so bad, he was in a hospital for a month."

I think of Ethan's hand on my arm and the fear in his eyes when he let go. "Maybe he didn't have a choice."