With each passing day, I become more and more convinced that shining is some kind of disease. Like a virus. It chooses a carrier, and then it somehow establishes a connection with another carrier, and they begin to shine. And virus apparently feeds on hormones that a person produces in a state of love. But if you don't feel love, then it punishes you?

No, not like that. Maybe it's the sickness in progress, but before that, I just didn't think about Logan much. I wasn't reminiscing about bad things he did to me, I wasn't emotionally triggered. I hope I'm right.

Maybe I should write to CDC or where they study this shining. Although, judging by the progress they have made, no one takes it seriously!

Okay, I just won't think about Logan. If I'm lucky, then everything is exactly the same with him. He will not be able to beat me, say nasty things to me, and even behind my back or he will be in pain... So, in my case, shining will be at least of some benefit for me... And what about love?.. Well, I'll think about it later. And definitely not with Logan!

A! Heck! It hurts!

I noticed that shining from such thoughts takes on a reddish, sometimes close to a purple, hue. I put on a thick dark t-shirt and leave the bathroom.

Although both of the reasons I mentioned not to dine in the canteen are no longer relevant, I still dine behind the bleachers alone. But today I see an interesting picture of Logan walking along with a girl. They're cooing behind the bleachers in the distance. I try not to look, but...

Logan starts kissing her and then suddenly pushes her away and doubles over. The girl tries to help him, but he yells at her to leave. She walks away, glancing back, but he keeps yelling at her, and she ends up leaving. He quickly unbuttons his jacket, a purple glow on his chest.

I can't say I feel bad about him. He deserves it. I just watch him bending over, ready to fall to the ground. And I just wait for it. Wait to see him rolling, writhing in pain...

Oh shit!

I feel the warmth on my chest become hotter. Panic washes over me. I look at Logan. He stands on his knees, pressing his hands to his chest as if trying to "force" shining back inside.

I get up to my feet and step away from the bleachers. I'm not sure what I'm doing. I'm voluntarily (oh, I doubt that) approaching Logan Douglas. A week ago I would call it a suicide, but now...

Logan notices me when I'm only two steps away.

"What do you want?!" He asks roughly. It becomes even more painful for him, and he bends over. It is difficult for him to breathe from the pain.

I can see how much it hurts. More of it, I can feel it. His pain's echoing with a burning sensation in my chest.

Maybe he didn't deserve my help... Maybe he deserved this pain and something even worse... But... I've never been cruel. For me, it's hard to look when someone suffers. Even if it's Logan.

When we sat next to each other on the bus, he slept on my shoulder. I remember this pleasant feeling. If I'm right, then...

I reach out to Logan, right up to his chest, and place my hand on his skin. At first, he grabs my hand to push it away, but he never does.

Because I'm right.

My heart speeds up, shining becomes brighter, but it does not torment or burn. I feel light again. Happy.

Though I'm not sure if I'm helping Logan out of compassion or because I don't want to suffer along with him. Am I empathic or selfish?

Logan's pain is obviously going away and replaced by another feeling. He doesn't risk pushing my hand away. Therefore, I remove it myself.

"You don't have to thank me," I say. "But I don't recommend you to curse me either."

Logan silently rises to his feet and zips up his jacket. The bell rings, and we go back to school.

Shining played into my hands in every sense. It's like I have a secret weapon against Logan. I never had any thoughts to harm him. It was him who treated me bad. But now he can't.

How can this not please me?

I go to school without fear, all my bruises are gone. Logan is trying to stay away from me, as I am from him. In PE, we never go into the locker room together, we wear dark t-shirts under sports jerseys. If we play on the same team, Logan doesn't even raise his voice to me. I wonder how he explained to his friends (without using harsh words about me) that he had suddenly lost interest in me?

Today the last lesson is history. Mr. Walsh, who adores his subject, is constantly trying to innovate his teaching. He does not meet any special support from the students, but this does not stop him. His zeal is enough for 40 or even 50 empty heads.

He comes up with a new project and divides us into groups with different points of view. So, as he puts it, the conflict would stimulate the process of cognition...

He pokes his fingers at the students, urging them to transfer to the indicated partner. When it comes to me, he thinks for a minute, but it turns out that no one but Logan has left.

Shining is a curse... for sure... such coincidences are impossible.

"Move your desks closer," Mr. Walsh commands. "You will be working together. No slacking!"

Now Logan and I are sitting so close that our elbows touch. I know shining has intensified, but the buttoned sweatshirt keeps it secret from everyone... well, except Logan.

I see his neck become reddish and instinctively pull my collar up.

"Now, you will close your eyes," Mr. Walsh commands again. "Come on, do it! And we all travel to the 19th century."

He turns on music and then someone's speech.


I don't see anything, the speech sounds like an indistinguishable hum. All I can feel is warmth in my chest, incredible lightness, and happiness. I'd love to fall asleep right here right now... right next to Logan.

Thoughts of shining have been pestering me since it started, but without thoughts, it's just a pleasant feeling. No, it's not that word...

This is the most pleasant thing that I have ever felt in my entire life.

Mr. Walsh makes us open our eyes. Now we need to write an essay about the speech - about its sense and point.

Logan and I stare blankly at each other. Obviously, we were in the same place, and what the speech was about is a mystery to us. Before us lies a white sheet; the clock is counting down the time.

"Just write something about freedom and equality," Logan says, frowning slightly.

"Why?" I ask.

"In these speeches, they always talk about this."

"No, why me?"

I provoke Logan, and he starts choosing words.

"Because... you are better with words than me..." Logan glares at me.

"Mr. Walsh said both have to work," I keep pushing. "If I have to write, then you say what to write."

"Okay, I'll write." Logan grabs a piece of paper and takes a pencil.

"Okay, then write. Um... I am a useless sack of shit. I don't love anyone, and I don't care about anyone. I like to make people suffer, and I like to beat those who can't fight back. I'm a coward. But I want to apologize for this to Adam Stone."

"You are crazy? I will not write this!"

"Do you want to get hurt again?" I say it as if I have such power over him. It's just a bluff.

"I won't write this," Logan says through clenched teeth.

"Hell with you," I say. "Then write what you want."

As a result, by the end of the lesson, we hand over to Mr. Walsh a blank sheet.

"We couldn't agree on the matter," I explain. Logan looks sideways at me.

"It's great!" exclaims Mr. Walsh. "But you still have to. I understand that you had little time." He hands me a paper. "This is a copy of the speech. I expect an essay from you tomorrow. Otherwise, I will have to give you an F, and you'll be getting an additional assignment every week until the end of the semester."

"Um... okay," I say and take the paper. "Should we go to the library?" I ask Logan as we leave the classroom.

"I need to go home," Logan says.

"I'm not going to work on it alone," I say firmly. "I can put up with assignments for the rest of the semester. I will not be doing the work for you."

Logan drills me with his dark eyes. His usual pack appears behind his back. Fear slightly touches me. They giggle.

"Dag, are you coming or what?!" says the tallest guy; it's Mitch.

"Nah..." Logan turns to them, glancing at me, at my chest. "I need to go home."

"With him?" Mitch throws a glance at me, but I look him straight in the eye. They laugh. But I'm not afraid of them. Only Logan was violent; they just supported him. But Logan gets nervous visibly.

"Yeah, we try to decide on a place where he can beat me 'till I vomit my blood. Care to join in?" I ask venomously. Logan looks at me, but I can't guess the emotion, other guys fall silent.

"Okay..." Mitch steps away. "Later then."

And they leave. Logan's still looking at me.

"Did I say something wrong?" I ask.

But Logan frowns and doesn't answer. And we stay for several moments in silence. It looks like silence, but this is a "shining" silence. I feel Logan's presence with all my skin. So for me, a lot is going on, though it looks like we are just standing.

"We can go to my place," Logan breathes out heavily. "And finish that stupid essay."

I am surprised, but I follow him. His family has an ordinary house, no bigger or richer than ours. We go inside, and Logan leads me to his room.

"Wait here," he says and walks out, leaving me alone.

I hear someone else talking in a raised voice. I hardly hear Logan's voice. Then everything trails off. The front door slams again, and Logan returns to the room with a completely different face. But, naturally, he doesn't explain anything to me. For some reason, I even feel sorry for him a little.

First, I read the speech out loud. It turns out to be about... freedom and equality. Logan smirks at this. We decide that each of us write a page, and then we make one essay out of them. It takes an hour, then I get up to go home.

This feeling is getting harder and harder to go away from. I don't want to part with Logan. I want to feel it more...

I don't think this is good for me... Shining is beneficial to me until it makes such significant changes in my life. So I'm in a hurry to leave.

Logan looks upset; I've never seen him like this. But maybe I shouldn't feel sorry for him; otherwise, it will become a habit. And does he need my pity anyway?

"What do you think about that?" He suddenly asks.

"About what?"

"About shining."

The question catches me off guard.

"Well... I think... this is just some kind of a joke of nature. I do not believe in destiny and soul mates and all that, if that's what you mean."

"Me too," Logan says.

"I'll go," I add after a pause. And Logan walks me to the door.

On the way home, I feel unbearably sad... And again, there is a pain in my chest, but this time it's different. I sleep poorly.  

The next day, Logan doesn't come to school, and I hand in the essay to Mr. Walsh alone.

I don't know how to answer Mr. Walsh's question about Logan's absence, so I lie that Logan must be sick. The feeling of nagging sadness never went away.