The boy slid his tray over to sit across from the girl in a story as old as this world and, no doubt, many others. Both ignored the jibes from his friends and the barely suppressed excitement from her friends as his green aura reached out for her yellow one. I couldn't see any of their friends’ auras. Only hers and his.
Just like yesterday when they'd connected, auras first, across the center aisle of the cafeteria. So thrilled to see two whole-body glows instead of the usual spark or spot, I'd pushed my energy toward them. Not to change the connection, just to make the couple more aware of it. Their auras blended, and they smiled. Then a friend of his slapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, and zap. It all disappeared.
But it had to mean something. I’d seen couples flirt and even hook up right in front of me with no auras in sight. I had to do something, for their sake and my own. Never mind my two previous aura-reading debacles—not caused by of my sight, exactly, but my reaction to seeing.
So, I’d approached the girl, Maria, in Biology class. Yes, she liked him, but her brother and parents would never approve of her dating a white boy.
But you’re yellow and he’s green, I wanted to say. His practical side will balance your spontaneity. But she didn’t see this. I barely could. Still, I told her to follow her heart.