The Master Psychic

chapter 11 - secrets

The alarm clock buzzed angrily on the nightstand, and Sage groaned, rolling over to smack it quiet. She blinked against the thin stripes of sunlight slipping through her curtains, her body still heavy from restless sleep. Her dreams had been fragments again—silver eyes, a voice that echoed soon—but she shoved them aside. Morning was here whether she liked it or not.

She swung her legs out of bed, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. After a long stretch, she dragged herself to the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt. One week left of school. One week before she'd never have to set foot in those hallways again. The thought should've filled her with relief, but instead, there was only a quiet ache in her chest. Too much had changed for her to feel normal anymore.

By the time she was dressed and had brushed her hair into something halfway decent, the smell of coffee drifted faintly up the stairs. Her stomach gave a little growl, urging her onward. She slipped her backpack over one shoulder and padded down the steps.

The kitchen was warm and bright, the morning light spilling through the windows. Harper was already at the stove, humming softly to herself as she flipped eggs in a pan, while Mason sat at the table nursing his coffee and scrolling on his phone.

"Morning," Sage said, her voice still raspy with sleep.

Harper glanced back with a smile. "Good morning, sweet pea. Grab a plate, breakfast is almost done."

Mason looked up at her, eyes softening as he gave a small nod. "Morning, kiddo."

Sage slid into her usual seat, setting her backpack at her feet. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like things were normal—just a typical school morning. But in the back of her mind, the visions lingered, and the memory of silver eyes refused to fade.

Still, she forced a small smile as Harper set a plate in front of her. "Thanks," she murmured, picking up her fork.

Today, she told herself, she'd get through school like it was any other day.

Even if her world was anything but normal now. Sage was halfway through her eggs when the sound of footsteps came from the hall. A moment later, Jared stepped into the kitchen. His dark hair was mussed, and there were faint shadows under his silver-flecked eyes, as if he hadn't slept much at all.

"Morning," Harper greeted warmly, sliding another plate onto the counter. "You're just in time. Sit, I'll get you some food."

Jared gave her a faint smile, but there was no warmth behind it. He pulled out a chair across from Sage and sat down, his posture tense. "Thanks, but... I'm not hungry."

Harper frowned, tilting her head. "You didn't eat much last night either. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Jared said quickly, his tone quiet but firm. His gaze flicked toward the table, then drifted—inevitably—to Sage.

Sage froze mid-bite, the weight of his stare prickling at the back of her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, pushing her food around her plate. The bond between them hummed faintly, like static in the air, and it made her skin buzz.

Mason set his coffee mug down with a deliberate clink, his eyes narrowing on Jared. "You're not fine. You look like hell."

Jared gave a short, humorless laugh. "Thanks, man. Real confidence boost."

"I mean it," Mason pressed, his voice sharp. "If something's wrong, you need to say it."

For a moment, Jared's jaw worked like he wanted to argue. Then his eyes dropped to the table, hiding whatever storm was brewing inside him. "I said I'm fine."

The room fell quiet. The only sound was Harper moving at the stove, the sizzle of eggs in the pan. Sage glanced between Jared and Mason, unease curling in her stomach. Whatever was eating at Jared, he clearly wasn't ready to share it—and Mason's suspicion only made the tension heavier.

Finally, Harper broke the silence with a gentle voice. "Well, hungry or not, you're still welcome to sit with us. Just... don't shut us out completely, okay?"

Jared gave her a small nod, but his gaze found Sage again, lingering too long. She dropped her eyes to her plate, wishing the strange pull between them didn't feel so impossible to ignore. Sage stabbed a piece of toast with her fork, trying to ignore Jared's eyes on her. The silence was stretching too long, heavy and awkward, and finally she blurted out the first thought that came to her.

"So... why don't you go to school?" She glanced up at Jared, then quickly back down to her plate. "I mean, I never see you leave in the mornings."

Jared blinked, caught off guard. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth, though it didn't reach his tired eyes. "Because I'm not in school anymore."

Sage frowned, confusion knitting her brows. "You dropped out?"

Before Jared could answer, Mason leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "No. He graduated two years ago. Jared's twenty now."

Sage's fork paused halfway to her mouth. She looked between the two men, her expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment. "Oh." Her cheeks warmed. "I... didn't know."

"You never asked," Mason said simply, his tone protective, almost warning.

Jared's smirk grew just a little, and he leaned his elbow on the table. "Don't worry, Sage. You're not the first to assume I'm younger. Guess I've got one of those faces."

"Or maybe it's because you act like a kid sometimes," Mason muttered under his breath.

Harper shot him a look, her voice firm. "Mason."

Sage ducked her head, fighting back a smile despite the tension. For a brief second, the air lightened—like a normal morning banter between siblings and friends. But when Sage risked another glance at Jared, his silver eyes caught hers, steady and unreadable.

The connection jolted through her like static again, and she quickly returned to her breakfast, pretending not to notice. Sage finished the last bite of her breakfast, then grabbed her backpack from where it rested against the chair. Slinging it over her shoulder, she turned to Mason.

"Alright, I'm ready," she said lightly. "Can we head out? I don't want to be late."

Mason rubbed the back of his neck, his expression tightening. He avoided her gaze for a second before sighing. "I can't today. I've got a work meeting I can't miss."

Sage froze mid-step. "Wait—what? But you always take me."

"I know," Mason said quickly, lifting a hand as if to calm her. "But this one came up last-minute. I was gonna ask Harper, but—"

"I can do it," Jared cut in smoothly, his voice carrying across the kitchen.

Everyone turned to look at him. He leaned back in his chair, silver eyes steady, calm, as though he'd been waiting for the moment. "It's no trouble. I've got nothing else to do, and your school's on the way to town, right?"

Mason's jaw tightened. "That's not—"

"Fine with me," Sage interrupted, her words coming out sharper than she intended. She adjusted her backpack strap, trying to keep her face neutral despite the little jolt in her chest. "It's just a ride. No big deal."

Mason looked between them, his protective instincts flaring. His eyes narrowed on Jared, but Harper touched his arm gently, shaking her head.

"You can't be two places at once, Mason," she said softly. "Let him help."

The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on, but finally Mason exhaled through his nose and muttered, "Fine. But if anything—anything—happens, Jared, you answer to me."

Jared gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to smirk but thought better of it. "Understood."

Sage shifted uncomfortably, caught between them, and glanced toward the door. "Well... guess we should go, then."

Jared stood, grabbing his keys from the counter, and for a split second, Sage felt that strange hum again—the bond stirring in her chest.

This was going to be a long ride. The morning air was crisp as Sage slipped into the passenger seat of Mason's car, her backpack tucked against her knees. She buckled herself in quickly, heart thudding a little too fast. Moments later, Jared slid into the driver's seat. The car seemed smaller with just the two of them, the silence heavy.

He started the engine, glanced at her briefly, then pulled out of the driveway. For a minute, all Sage could hear was the hum of the tires on the pavement.

"So..." Jared said finally, drumming his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. "You've only got a week left of school, right?"

Sage kept her eyes forward, watching the trees blur past. "Yeah. Just one more week."

"That's exciting," he offered, trying for a smile. "Big plans after graduation?"

Sage gave a half-shrug. "Not really. I haven't... figured everything out yet."

Jared nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the road. "That's fair. When I was your age, I thought I had everything figured out. Turns out, I didn't."

She glanced at him sideways. "And now you do?"

That earned her a low chuckle. "Not even close."

For a brief moment, the tension eased. Jared's voice was softer than she expected, not as sharp or intimidating as his presence sometimes felt. But then his silver eyes flicked toward her again, catching her gaze, and the hum of that strange bond shivered in her chest. Sage quickly looked back at the windshield.

He cleared his throat. "So, uh... what's your favorite class?"

"Definitely not math," she said dryly, and to her surprise, he laughed—a real laugh, warm and unguarded.

Sage found herself biting back a smile, but she didn't let it show. She couldn't. Not when everything about him unsettled her so deeply.

The ride stretched on, filled with little attempts at conversation—favorite books, music, trivial things. Each answer felt too ordinary against the strange undercurrent between them, but it kept the silence at bay until the school came into view. Jared pulled into the school parking lot, the low rumble of the engine filling the quiet between them. Students were already spilling across the pavement, laughing, talking, backpacks slung carelessly over their shoulders. It was all so normal, so everyday—and yet Sage's chest still buzzed with that strange tethered hum whenever Jared was near.

He eased the car into a spot and shifted it into park. For a moment, he didn't move, just rested his hands on the wheel. His silver-flecked eyes turned toward her, sharp and unreadable.

"Sage," he said softly.

She froze, fingers still gripping her backpack strap. "What?"

"The visions you've been having..." He hesitated, as if weighing every word. "They weren't meant to scare you."

Her breath caught. She turned slowly to face him, her pulse hammering in her ears. "Then what were they meant to do?"

Jared's gaze locked on hers, steady but guarded. "To inform you."

"Inform me of what?" she pressed, her voice sharper than she intended.

His jaw tightened, a flicker of conflict passing through his expression. Then he looked away, staring through the windshield at the sea of students. "Ask Mason."

The words landed like a stone in her stomach.

She opened her mouth to argue, to demand answers right then and there, but before she could speak, Jared leaned back, his face unreadable again. "You should get to class. Don't want to be late."

Sage stared at him, frustration and confusion tangling together. After a moment, she grabbed her backpack and pushed the door open. Stepping out, she slammed it shut a little harder than she meant to.

As she walked toward the school, she couldn't shake the weight of his words. The visions weren't warnings. They were messages.

And Mason still had secrets.