Small Blue Thing by S. C. Ransom Read Free Book Online Page A

was excited because I was about to see his face again. Whatever the consequences, I wanted to be able to look at him properly; I wanted to see him smile again. I hesitantly reached forward for the band.
    His face appeared in the mirror immediately I grasped the silver. He was behind my right shoulder, looking just as if he was about to whisper something in my ear. My heart leapt at the thought. His eyes, which were so blue they ought to be cold and threatening, looked unbelievably inviting. The mirror gave a much clearer reflection than the screen in the library. I could see hisperfect skin, the highlights in his hair, and the gentle curve of his lips as he started to smile.
    Taking a firm grip on the band in one hand, but holding my mobile ready with the other, I turned to check behind me. Nothing. He was still only in the mirror. I couldn’t begin to work out how this was happening: the laws of physics just didn’t allow it. But there he was, smiling gently, almost as if he could read the argument going on in my head.
    As if he could read my thoughts…
    I dropped the bracelet as if I had been electrocuted, and his face was gone in an instant. Could he read my mind? My cheeks flamed as I considered the implications of that. What exactly had I been thinking?
    I took a deep breath. “Stop it,” I told myself sternly, “just finish checking it out.” And, anyway, did it matter if a strange reflection could also read my mind? It wasn’t as if he was real. I looked at the bracelet. I had to figure it out. I was sure Josh wasn’t responsible, so that left projection or insanity as my choices. I considered the stone, peering at it from every angle. There was absolutely no way it could generate any power. There was no space for even a tiny battery, so it seemed unlikely that it was projecting an image. The only way to check though was to put it inside something thick, then try again. I rummaged quickly in the pile of junk in the corner of my room, and found an old metal cash box. I dumped the contents on my bed and laid it on the desk.
    I sat back down and turned the box so that the lid opened away from me. Really carefully I hooked the bracelet with a pencil and lowered it inside. I closed my eyes tightly for a moment as I felt a small bead of sweat run down my back. This was worse than the exams. Slowly, slowly, I reached around the half-closed box lidand grasped the bracelet tightly.
    In a flash his face was back behind me, reflected in the mirror. Not a projection then. I realised that he was actually looking quite distressed. My heart lurched again at the thought that I was upsetting him in some way. But suddenly he seemed to understand that I could see him again, and his face broke into a huge grin of relief. His beauty astonished me. Every time I looked at him he seemed more flawless than before. His high, straight cheekbones gave him an aristocratic air, and his lips… I sighed to myself looking at his lips. Curved in that inviting smile, his mouth looked strong but soft.
    I took in the rest of him. He was wearing a loose white cotton shirt of some sort, open to reveal his throat and the top of his chest, and a heavy black cloak which was tied at his neck in a thick cord. The hood was thrown back, and I could see the strength in his neck and shoulders. If he was just a fantasy I had conjured up, I was doing a remarkably good job.
    He watched as I completed my assessment, still smiling, then arched an eyebrow as if in a question. All I could do was smile back, blushing again.
    So now I had managed to eliminate all the options but the most frightening one: I was going mad. But the more I looked at him and thought about what I had done, the less likely that seemed, too.
    Maybe there was another option. I had never believed in ghosts, and as I thought about it, I realised I didn’t believe in anything irrational, anything that couldn’t be tested. But I had tested this, and it was proving that there was something –