Adam gave a snort of laughter. "You want some cereal?" he asked, holding up his own bowl of little oat rockets and marshmallow planets.

"I'll pass," Michael answered. He tilted his chair back on two legs and opened the fridge. He studied the contents for a minute, then pulled out a plate of cold spaghetti and a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce. When he'd slammed the fridge closed and turned back to the table, he saw Adam looking at him with a worried expression.

"What?" Michael mumbled through his first bite.

"Is it normal to eat cereal for dinner?" Adam asked.

"You're a guy living on your own. It's totally normal," Michael told him. "And anyway, being too normal isn't normal."

He was careful to keep his voice low and casual even though a flare of anger had gone off inside him. If Sheriff Valenti wasn't already dead, Michael would cheerfully kill him for what he'd done to Adam. The guy couldn't even eat a bowl of cereal without feeling like a freak.

"Can I ask you something else?" Adam sat down across from Michael. "I'm trying to figure out the kissing thing."

"The kissing thing," Michael repeated. "O-kay go ahead."

"Friends kiss each other sometimes, right?" Adam said. He shoveled a couple of spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth.

"Right," Michael agreed. "Well, guy-girl friends or sometimes girl-girl friends. Not guy-guy friends," he added quickly. He decided not to go into the whole gay-straight issue since Adam was still trying to get down the basics.

"But it's a different kind of kissing, right?" Adam asked.

"Right," Michael said again. He didn't mind answering a few questions, but he hoped Adam wasn't expecting some kind of birds-and-bees sex talk. If he was, Michael would just tell him to start watching a little more cable.

"How's it different? That's what I need to know." Adam scooped up the last of the cereal, then drained the milk at the bottom of the bowl.

Michael thought it over for a minute. "Location, mainly. If you kiss a friend, it's usually not on the lips. And if it is on the lips, then it's a tongue issue. There is no tongue penetration." He picked up a hunk of cold spaghetti, and plopped it into his mouth. He followed it with a chocolate-sauce chaser.

"But lips with no tongue would be okay," Adam said. "Like you've kissed Maria that way."

"Yeah," Michael answered. He didn't add that he'd also kissed Maria that other way. And enjoyed it immensely. If he told Adam that, Adam would just get confused. He wouldn't get why Michael and Maria were just friends if they-

"Okay, say you kissed someone in the friends way, but then they used their tongue. Does that make it okay for you to use yours?" Adam asked. He gave his cereal bowl a spin and almost knocked it off the table.

"It depends," Michael answered. "If you only want to be friends with the girl, then you shouldn't because if you did, the girl would think you were up for being more than friends. It's a girl thing," he explained. "But if you want to be more than friends, then yeah, totally, go for it."

"So if you kissed Maria, and she-"

"Wait," Michael interrupted. "You're not interested in Maria, are you?" Michael knew he wasn't with Maria or anything, but the idea of Adam trying to start something up with her was unacceptable.

Adam shook his head. "It was just an example."

Michael did a quick aura check. He didn't see any signs of deception in the yellow glow around Adam.

"But you are interested in someone, aren't you?" Michael asked.

The rim of Adam's aura darkened to a deep orange, and his face flushed. "Not really," he muttered.

You are such a humongous liar, Michael thought. But he didn't call Adam on it.

It's not like it would be all that hard to figure who Adam had a thing for. He pretty much only knew three girls-Maria, Isabel, and Liz.

Adam's cruising toward a broken heart, Michael thought. Isabel does love him, but she loves him in a protective way, like a little brother.

And Liz. Liz was with Max. Hearts and flowers. Now and forever. All that Harlequin romance bull.

Adam didn't stand a chance with Liz.

Adam flopped down on the air mattress in the corner of the living room, and his thoughts, as always, turned to Liz.

He couldn't help it. And the fact that she'd stopped by the museum that afternoon only made it harder to stop. She'd only stayed for about three minutes. He hadn't even been able to convince her to sit down and relax. But in those three minutes he'd gone into sensory overload. The color of her lips, the smell of her hair when she walked past him, the sound of her voice. The combination had packed such a punch that he'd been practically on his knees by the time she left.

Even so, he wished she'd stayed longer. Tortured him some more.

Maybe then he could have figured out what was bothering her. He knew something was, and not just the fact that Kyle Valenti had threatened the group.

Something was bothering her the other night when I went into her dream, too, he remembered. She'd been in the middle of a horrible nightmare.

Adam rolled over onto his side and peered at his watch. It was after one. Liz was probably already asleep. Was she having bad dreams again? Because if she was, it would be a friend kind of thing to go into her dream and stop it, right?

I'll just check on her, Adam decided. If she's okay, I'll leave.

He closed his eyes and allowed all the muscles in his body to relax and soften. A moment later the dream orbs appeared, whirling, translucent spheres of every color imaginable. They were all beautiful, but there was only one that held any attraction for Adam.

He whistled, long and low, and Liz's dream orb came to him. It circled around his head until he reached up and gently caught it between his hands. He pulled apart his palms, and the orb expanded to the size of a beach ball.

Just a quick look, Adam promised himself again, unable to completely get rid of the sweaty-guilty feeling that he was doing something wrong. He peered into the orb and saw Liz sitting at her desk. It looked like she was filling out college applications.

Not exactly a wonderful dream, but not a nightmare, either. Adam locked his eyes on Liz, wanting to soak up as many details as he could. The shape of the little hollow at the base of her throat. The way she'd tucked her hair behind her ear on one side and let it fall free on the other. The way the polish on her fingernails was a shade lighter than the polish on her toenails.

Wait. When he looked at her feet, he thought he saw something. Adam jerked apart his hands, forcing the walls of the orb out. His heart thudded hard against his chest. A couple of inches of water covered the floor, and the water level was rising. Fast.

Almost as soon as Adam realized this, the water was up to Liz's knees. She jumped up from the chair and started wading toward the door. Before she got halfway there, the water was to her waist, then her chest. Liz forced herself forward, using her arms to help propel herself through the water. She grabbed the door handle and pulled. But the pressure of the water was too strong. She couldn't get the door open.

Enough! Adam thought. He did the first thing he could think of. He used his mind to reconfigure Liz's body, turning her into a goldfish.

Liz immediately started darting around, exploring, enjoying her fish self. Adam let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. She was okay.

Adam knew he should go now. He'd done what he needed to do. But he couldn't resist turning her bed into one of those ceramic castles he'd seen in fishbowls at the pet store.

He smiled as she shimmied through one of the windows and then swam out the front door. She's all set, he thought. Just go.