To start, Six shows us what she’s learned of combat techniques, which is far more than I know. Her body moves fluidly and with the precision of a machine when she throws a kick or punch, or when she does a back flip to evade an attack. She shows us how to counterassault and the merits of skill and coordination, and drills the same maneuvers until they come instinctively. Sam eats it up, even when Six pounds him backwards and he flips head over heels or has the wind knocked out of him. She does the same to me, and even though I try laughing it off like I’m playing around, I work my hardest and she still kicks the crap out of me. I can’t fathom how she learned all this on her own. After my mouth is filled with grass and dirt for the second time, I realize just how much she can teach me.

The rain begins a half hour later. A light drizzle at first, but soon the skies open, sending us indoors for cover. Sam paces through the house throwing kicks and punches at phantom enemies. I sit in the chair, my fist around my blue pendant, and stare out the front window for a very long time, simply watching it all happen while remembering that the last two storms I saw both raged because Six told them to.

When I turn back I see that she’s sound asleep in the corner of the living room, curled around Bernie Kosar, holding him in her arms like a pillow. It’s how she always sleeps, wrapping herself into a ball on her side, her features losing their sharp edges.

The white bottoms of her feet are aimed right at me, and I use telekinesis to lightly tickle the bottom of her right foot. She twitches it as though shooing a pesky fly. I tickle her again. She twitches her foot a little harder. I wait a few seconds and then, as softly as I can, I tickle the length of her foot, from her heel up to her big toe. Six pulls her foot back and kicks her leg straight out, the telekinetic force of which sends me flying into the nearest wall, leaving a hole revealing the interior wires and studs. Sam charges into the room and jumps into the perfect fighting position.

“What happened? Who’s here?” he yells.

I stand, rubbing my elbow, which took the brunt of the hit.

“Jerk,” Six says, sitting up.

Sam looks from me to her.

“You guys are ridiculous,” he says, retreating back to the kitchen. “Your flirting just scared the hell out of me.”

“Scared the hell out of me, too,” I say, ignoring the flirting comment; but he’s already gone and doesn’t hear it. Am I flirting? Would Sarah think that was flirting?

Six yawns, raising her arms to the ceiling. “Still raining?”