PSI Ch. 01

Chapter One

The fact that the Devon school had sent me a train ticket was not the first strange thing about the situation. Who still travels by train in America? They're slow, expensive, and everyone owns a car anyway - but the school had a strict policy against personal vehicles for freshmen. The entire recruitment process had been strange, but the school had a spotless reputation and had offered an amazing financial aid package, including low interest loans and grants. It seemed too good to be true - I would be receiving a top quality education at a private university for the price of a state school. To be truthful, the entire thing was something of a whirlwind, from the moment the recruiter had spoken with my parents and I last winter, to stepping off the platform now in late August.

Unfortunately, Devon was located in rural Vermont, far from just about anything. I was one of the last off the train, and by the time I had my bags I was rushing to get out of the station. At the street curb, there was a taxi driver holding a sign which not only listed my name - Mr. Lukas - but also a 'Ms. Donablanca.' Next to the driver, tapping her wedge-sandaled foot impatiently, was a pretty girl about my own age - eighteen or nineteen - wearing a tight black t-shirt and light summer skirt, with glossy black hair reaching just past her collarbone. Her dark eyes, shirt and hair all seemed to be of a piece, but the skin of her neck, arms and calves was pale, with a natural hint of blush over her arched cheekbones. A wave of her hair fell diagonally above and past her right eye, giving her a somewhat mysterious look.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said as I hurried over. "You must be Ms. Donablanca. I'm Matt. Matt Lukas."

"Emelina." Her lips curved slightly in a mysterious smile as I put my things down and extended my hand. We shook, and my fingers still tingled with her touch a moment later as I held the door for her and we scooted into the cab. I did my best not to let my eyes linger on the white thighs exposed by her skirt as she swiveled into the seat. "This is your first semester at Devon, as well?" I noticed a very slight accent to her voice, as if english was not her first language.

"Yes. It's all been kind of a blur, to be honest." I inhaled a tangy, fruity scent as I climbed into the car next to her, layered over the stale vanilla car freshener which hung from the taxi's rearview mirror. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest from being so close to her, and did my best to look calm and relaxed.

"I know what you mean," she responded, shifting in her seat to secure the seat belt as the taxi pulled out of the train station. "I can hardly believe I'm here - and I don't know anyone..."

"Well, you know me." I gave her my best smile, and she seemed to weigh me with her eyes for a moment, judging whether I was a creep, a threat, or just a nice guy. Did she like what she saw, I wondered? I was neither the most fit, nor the handsomest guy around - even up here in Vermont, at the end of the world. My right hand unconsciously went up to run a few fingers through my dirty-blonde hair.

"It would be nice to have a friend here," she began hesitantly.

I extended my hand again. "Friends?"

Emelina took my hand in hers with a sudden, bright smile. "Friends. Call me Emma."

****

We chatted on the way out to the school, where I learned that Emelina was the only daughter of Argentinian immigrants to the United States, and that she had come to the country as a very young child. At home, her parents still spoke spanish more than english, which explained the slight accent I had picked up on earlier. I felt more at ease with her as I stood to hold the car door open again, but that didn't stop me from having to take a deep breath or two when she bent forward as she scooted out, revealing a nice glimpse of her cleavage to me, nestled in the black cups of her bra.

The campus was beautiful - a green lawn under a clear blue sky, and old brick buildings thatched over with ivy as if this was the movie set of an archetypal ivy league school. There were enough trees to shade the sidewalks and paths, and none of them had yet begun to turn colors.

Leaving my own bags downstairs for a moment, I helped Emelina carry her luggage to the third floor of the women's dorm - past the watchful eye of an upperclassmen who looked like she could kick my ass five times over - and cooled my heels awkwardly for a moment as she began to pull open drawers and unzip her suitcase. I noticed that there was a second, empty, bed in the room, and decided not to wait around for her roommate. I said goodbye for long enough to drop my own things in the men's dorm, and we promised to meet up at the convocation dinner. The last thing I saw before I left the room was a handful of lacy underthings making their way from Emma's bag into the top drawer, and I shook my head to make myself keep moving.

In my own room, I shoved my clothes haphazardly into the empty dresser, but didn't actually do a lot of unpacking - I was anxious to spend more time with Emelina. If I could hit it off with her, my year would be off to an amazing start - she was gorgeous, funny, and nice, and I'd never been able to date anyone like her in high school.

As I was getting ready to take off again, the door to my room opened and a young man backed his way in - leather jacket first, followed by a large trunk which scraped against the floor. I did my best to get out of the way.

"Hey," the spiky-haired new arrival called out to me - "I'm Rick. You mind getting the door for me?"

"Sure," I sighed, and awkwardly scooted past the huge trunk to do as he asked. Outside in the hall I could see more students dragging up their things, but surprisingly few parents - perhaps because the Devon school had not offered to pay for their parents' train tickets, as had been the case for my family. "What do you have in there," I asked as I turned back to my new roommate, "Rocks?"

Rick was sitting on his bed, obviously taking a moment to catch his breath. "No," he said with a slight smiling, leaning forward to throw open the trunk, "Speakers."

The inside of the trunk was crammed with black wooden boxes and wires. In between them, used more as padding than anything else, were articles of clothing. I let out a long, low whistle.

"Couldn't leave home without my music," Rick explained, standing again. "Here, give me hand setting it up. It won't take more than ten minutes."

****

When I arrived for dinner an hour later, I was amazed at just how few people were in the great hall. There couldn't have been more than fifty students total, and I easily found a place across from Emelina. Rick was still fiddling with his speakers when I left, and showed no signs of letting up for food. I sat down next to a slim girl with pale yellow hair and blue eyes, our hips just touching beneath the table.

"This is Mara," Emelina gestured, "My room mate."

"Hello, Mara." I gave her my best smile. "I'm Matt." I knew I would need to make a good impression here, or see any potential relationship with my new crush sabotaged before it ever began.

"Hey." Mara nodded to me, then pointed toward the front of the room, where a handful of professors sat at the head table. "Don't they look a little young to you?"

I followed her gaze, and immediately saw what she meant. One of the professors, in particular, stood out to me - an attractive woman with dark, fanned, shoulder length hair wearing a collared white shirt and a suit. She couldn't have been even forty years old. "Yeah, I guess."

An older man in a dark suit and tie walked into the room, and stood in the center spot at the head table. The other professors rose, and we did as well after watching the older students follow suit. The room grew quiet - something about this man's presence seemed to command our attention.

"Good evening," he began in a strong baritone. "I am Professor Straton, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to another year here at Devon. To our returning students, I look forward to seeing you again. To our staff, I extend my gratitude for taking time out of your lives to be with us." He paused, then raised his arms high. "And to our new students, most especially welcome - to the Devon Academy of Psionic Studies." With that, he began to raise off of the ground, until he was levitating a full three feet in the air.

Next to me, Emelina swore in spanish. I looked across the table and caught her eyes - she looked just as confused as I was, and shook her head.

Professor Straton's voice continued to echo in my head, but his mouth had stopped moving, fixed only into a slight smile. I could have sworn that he took satisfaction in the shocked gasps and mutterings of the freshmen, but then again, it seemed the upper classmen were all grins as well.

"As is public knowledge, the United States Government established the Paranormal Science and Investigation Agency over twenty five years ago. Each of you has been identified as a latent Psionic and brought here to be trained in your abilities. At the conclusion of your four year study, you may or may not choose to continue working with PSI - some of you may even become field agents in Department Seven."

The Professor slowly dropped to the ground. "Now, enjoy your meal. New students schedules will be posted outside the dining room after dinner; review them. Tomorrow, your training will begin."

As the meal was served - steak, potatoes, asparagus - the three of us leaned close across the table. "Did either of you have any idea," I asked, watching as glasses and trays of food began floating through the air at the upperclassmen tables.

Emelina shook her head, but Mara nodded. "My father was an agent," she explained. "But I'd given up on hoping that I had the talent when they came for me."

Emelina's eyes sparkled, and she reached a hand across the table, placing her fingers over mine. I thrilled at even this slight touch. "Can you imagine it?" she breathed. "We could be field agents one day. I thought I was lucky enough to be getting an education, but this - my family will never believe it!"

After dinner, we checked the class lists outside. "Autohypnosis 101, Psicraft 101, Introduction to Law for Field Agents, Defensive Martial Arts, and History of PSI," I read. Both girls nodded, and we found that our schedules differed only in terms of which class was being taught when, and by which instructor. Emelina and I only had a single class together - Psicraft - while Mara and I would have both Autohypnosis and Defensive Martial Arts at the same time. With our schedules safely tapped into our phones, we escaped the crush of new students - perhaps three dozen in all, but very excited - and went to the girls' dorm room, where we hung out together until their Dorm Supervisors decided it was time to kick me out. Both were quite bubbly, and I thought I was starting to warm Mara up to me a bit; certainly, neither of them had seemed to mind me being around even after they had changed into the yoga pants and old t-shirts that constituted their pajamas. I certainly hadn't minded the occasional glimpse of a colorful thong peeking out from a waistband, or the telltale outline of a bra-less nipple through thin cotton.

That night, in an unfamiliar bed, with Rick softly snoring across the room, I thought about a lot of things. I thought about what Professor Straton had said about Department Seven, and how he had levitated off the ground. Did he mean that I would be able to do that, one day? I wondered what my parents would think, and what my friends from high school were doing now. Could I even tell any of them, or was this all some kind of government secret? I tried to think back to the admission and loan papers I had signed - truthfully, almost anything, including a government non-disclosure clause, could have been hidden in the fine print, and I would never have noticed.

Most of all, however, I thought about a pair of dark eyes and a quiet grin, and the glimpse of smooth thighs in the car ride.

****

After a quick breakfast with Rick in the dorm dining hall the next morning - we had hardly any classes together - my first class was Defensive Martial Arts in the gymnasium, with Professor Ferring, a muscular man in his thirties who quickly had us practicing holds and grapples. I was a bit surprised to notice the tough looking upperclassman from Emmelina and Mara's dorm chatting with the professor, dressed in tight black lycra shorts and a sports bra. It took me a moment to tear my eyes away from her tight ass, well defined abs, light chocolate skin and casually pouty lips. I guessed that one of her grandparents was black, based on her skin tone and hair. When everyone had arrived, Professor Ferring introduced her as Kendra, a Junior who was his Assistant for the semester.

After a set of group stretches, I was matched up with Zhilan, a tiny Chinese-American girl in a black sports bra and light gray yoga pants. She had slim, boyish hips and a small chest, but sparkling large brown eyes and perfect skin. When I saw that I was partnered with a girl, I felt a little awkward, and tried to go easy on her with the first throw. As she came up off the mat, Zhilan frowned.

"Come on, do it right. I can take it. I won't break." She took her stance, thin arms up and legs spread at shoulder width for balance. The next time I practiced a hip toss, I nearly threw her across the room, and came down hard across her body. For a moment, we lay there, breathing hard, and I could feel her stiff nipples against my chest through the tight sports bra. She smiled.

"That's better. Now get up and let's do it again." For a moment, I just lay there, feeling both of our heartbeats pounding, and then I stood up, offering her a hand. It was a cliche, but she felt like nothing so much as a small bird - delicate and breakable - beneath me. With raised eyebrows and an amused curl to her lips, she shrugged me off and rolled to her feet.

We shifted partners throughout the class, and before long we were all sweating and tired from Professor Ferring's grueling workout. When it didn't look like one of us was getting a move quite right, he would step in and demonstrate - at full speed. I thought he was going to break a bone when he put me in an arm bar.

The only person I recognized in the class was Mara, Emmelina's roommate. We weren't exactly friends yet - I still felt like she was a bit frosty toward me, compared to how quickly Emmelina and I had warmed up to each other - but I was certainly more comfortable working with her than the brittle Zhilan. Her dishwater pale blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, wild strands escaping in every direction this far into the workout, and her cheeks were flushed. I gave her a quick grin before we started, trying to be friendly, and we were quickly occupied practicing throws and holds. It was only when Mara tried to swing me across her hip and failed that I recalled that the arms, legs and waist I was touching belonged to a very attractive girl. Her hips swung into my groin, but she didn't drop her center of balance low enough, and she ended up just grinding her ass against my crotch. I inhaled sharply as my hardening penis seemed to hone in on the space between her cheeks, and I could feel the heat from her groin. We both froze.

For just a moment, I enjoyed the feeling of my shaft pressed tight to her warm ass, only our thin shorts between burning skin. She was breathing heavy, and I could smell her sweat - an earthy, slightly bitter smell. Then, we backed away from each other, both embarrassed, I think. I could see that above her sports bra, her chest was flushing pink, and I quickly tried to adjust myself so as not to show that I had gotten half hard. Mara's eyes, however, flicked right to the shape of my cock beneath my shorts.

Thankfully, Professor Ferring called another switch, and Mara worked with Zhilan for a while. I was able to cool myself down practicing with a big guy named Nate, and to finish the class without further embarrassment. Afterward, I looked around for someone to walk with, but Mara and Zhilan were already heading off to get coffee in the cafeteria, chatting like they'd known each other forever. As they passed me, they giggled, and I decided I would be better off not following them.

An hour later, after heading back to the men's dorm for a shower, I found that Mara - changed into a tight black t-shirt and skinny jeans - was in my Autohypnosis class as well, with Professor Chapman, but she didn't sit next to me. I was late, in fact, having gotten a bit lost on the unfamiliar campus, and had to grab the last desk available. This wasn't really a problem for me, as I found myself sitting next to perhaps the most attractive girl in the room. I hadn't thought of Mara in a sexual way until I'd felt her body's heat earlier, but now I couldn't help but imagine pressing myself into her whenever I looked her way, and having her across the room was a good thing. I didn't want to screw up my chances with Emelina. Mara way sexy in an earthy, girl next door kind of way - but this girl next to me was simply stunning.

Between her blue eyes, peaches and cream complexion, collarbone length auburn hair and designer clothes, she was the sort of girl everyone fantasized about in high school: painted on jeans, white tank top, and a perfume that smelled of some kind of berries. I sat next to her dumbly, not even daring to look for more than a second at a time.

Professor Chapman, a conservatively dressed woman with dark hair falling in curls to her shoulders, quickly had us out of our desks, sitting on the floor cross-legged, and working in pairs as she explained the theory behind autohypnosis.

"The first step in learning to use your mind," she lectured, "Is to recognize your own states of awareness. You will know when you have entered a deep state of hypnosis when your heart rate and pulse slow. Sit facing your partner. The first partner will take the other's wrist in their hand, and count the pulse."

The perfect redhead and I turned to face each other. She seemed to consider me for a moment, then held her hand out. I took her hand in my lap and pressed my fingers to her wrist. She leaned forward. "Rosie," she whispered, then closed her eyes and sat up straight as I stumbled over my name in response.

"The second partner will close their eyes, and count backwards from ten..." Professor Chapman's voice took on a droning quality as she continued through her instructions. Gradually, I could feel Rosie's pulse slowing as her pert breasts rose and fell beneath her tank top. I worried that my fingers would sweat on her smooth skin, and tried not to let my eyes linger on her denim-clad hips in case she opened her eyes. The last thing I needed was to get a reputation as a creep.

When her exercise was done, however, she smiled, and bounded forward. "Well? Did it work? Did my pulse slow?"

"Absolutely," I said with a smile, showing her where I'd recorded the numbers on a notebook. "How did it feel?"

She thought for a moment. "Strange. But you'll know what I mean in a minute."

Indeed, the Professor was beginning again, and I tried not to focus on Rosie's hand on my wrist, or her scent in the air, but instead on the Professor's voice. Eventually, I seemed to lose track of time completely, and only came back to myself when Rosie slapped my arm lightly.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Her grin was infectious, and I found myself returning it.

"Would you like to get lunch," I asked her before I had time to think about what a bad idea that was. What happened to my goal of not screwing things up with Emelina?

"Thanks," she responded, "but I need to run back to the dorm and meet my roommate. I'll see you tomorrow in class, though." I sighed. Of course - even here, I still wasn't good enough for a girl like her to pay any attention at all to. All in all, it was probably for the best, so instead, I caught up with Mara as I saw her heading out.