Telekinesis will be the death of me (Part 3 of Mutants Versus Witches, Simin's POV)

I think I've officially reached rock bottom when it comes to entertainment. It's not my fault, there isn't exactly T.V. or social media when you're on the run, so I have to take what I can get.

I think I've landed on a pretty hilarious, albeit a petty form of entertainment: watching Devon struggle.

It's funny because nobody else struggles quite like Devon. Elysse has a graceful kind of frustration, where she frantically braids her hair and repeats the word 'okay' a hundred times in her quiet, muttered pep talks. If Harry struggles, he has a ninja way of doing it, where nobody knows he's suffering.

I usually make jokes, or give up for a bit, or set things on fire in annoyance.

Devon, on the other hand, exhales repeatedly like some demented bull, swears like a sailor on steroids, rolls his sleeves up and down, and steadily grows more and more annoyed with every little thing.

"Do you have to breathe so loudly?" Devon snapped at me, readjusting his sleeves for the millionth time.

"It's not breathing, it's laughter, an uncontrollable response to watching you fail over and over again," I smirked at him, finally safe from John's scolding while I teased him.

We were alone on the top floor of the five-star, decrepit warehouse of the week. I was taking an extended break from training, lounging on a no doubt flea-infested couch to watch Devon "train".

Devon glared but said nothing, trying to pretend that he was a bigger person.

Challenge accepted. I smiled sweetly, getting up on my elbows to get a good look at attempt number 300.

Devon narrowed his eyes and focused his death glare on the cube.

The weighted cube slammed into the floor, some of its corners chipping with the force.

I threw my head back, cackling. I laughed even harder when Devon predictably launched into a volley of swears, inventing some fascinating new insults for a cube.

He'd been practicing for hours now, and unless the goal was to utterly destroy the cube, he was only getting worse.

I gasped suddenly, widening my eyes. "Hey, Devon, I've got an idea, why don't you try lifting the cube?" I asked with mock sincerity, resting my chin on a hand.

"Wow, thanks, how come I didn't think of that?" Devon shot me a filthy look and tried again, this time lifting the cube, the table, and the couch too.

"Oh perfect, now you've got it!" I drawled sarcastically, rolling onto the floor and back up.

Devon swore again, and everything came crashing back down. I stopped smiling, tired of pretending like this didn't bother me.

Elysse's hoarse voice startled both of us as she yelled from downstairs, "Hey! Would you stop it?"

I stared at Devon, most of my earlier delight at his frustration ebbing away.

Devon was supposed to be carefully and delicately lifting only the cube with his telekinesis. It was a painfully simple task, something any toddler with a functioning hand could accomplish.

According to John, who wanted Devon to practice on his own, the point of this exercise was control and focus.

I watched Devon exhale determinedly, lining himself up with the cube again.

Though I would never admit it, I am very jealous of Devon's awesome powers. Powers that are completely wasted on him. I've watched him lift cars with his mind, blow windows into smithereens, slam witches into walls.

By comparison, my powers are still cool, but out of control fire powers are not as sexy in the face of telekinesis.

Devon is basically a black, male version of Carrie, only he has no idea how to control his telekinesis. While lifting a car into the air, he accidentally crumpled our own getaway car. Once, he lifted and dropped Harry onto the floor while beating up the witches. During one of our many fights, he made every single item and person in our safehouse defy gravity.

If his powers weren't one of the biggest dangers we faced, he would be a literal powerhouse.

I understand Devon's frustration, my own powers are less than reliable. I once saved all of us from a hail of bullets, only for us to be surrounded by a ring of fire.

So I let Devon seethe for a few minutes when the cube didn't budge and entertained myself by lighting my hand on fire.

"Hey, Devon, you want my help?" I asked, trying to adopt a sincere tone. "Watching you fail is getting boring."

"Because you can control your powers so well?" Devon asked pointedly, turning towards the cube again. I glared at him, wondering if I could get away with burning all his clothes.

Devon squinted at the cube, a vein bulging in his forehead, and the cube lifted, but so did the cracked coffee table next to it, and even I felt a pull.

I reminded myself that I was trying to help Devon. "I'm being serious, I've gotten a lot better at managing my flames. So you want some advice?"

Devon held an arm out, clearly trying to control the cube's shaky path. The second he extended his arm, both the coffee table and the cube rammed into the wall.

I winced, and Elysse yelled something unintelligible downstairs.

"Fine," Devon grumbled finally, wringing his hands. "What's your advice?"

I didn't waste any time. "For you, maybe pretend that you are gently picking up the cube with chopsticks. Not a hand, but some kind of string. Take a deep breath, and really think about the weight of the cube. Also, sit down." All nonsense, but it sounded like something John would say.

Devon crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, so I grabbed his arm and awkwardly manoeuvered him onto the couch.

"Back pressed against the couch, stop thinking about anything but the cube. And chopsticks," I reminded, standing to the side to watch.

Devon sighed skeptically and frowned at the cube.

It shifted a little from side to side, and then slowly left the floor.

I held my breath, eyeing the coffee table, couch, and myself for any weird anti-gravity issues.

"Yo, I'm doing it!" Devon grinned, sounding pleased, and the cube fell back onto the floor.

"Yeah, yeah, that was just the first time." I dismissed it jokingly, but my heart was pounding a little with excitement.

It took a few more hours and definitely more slip-ups. But Devon had finally reached a point where only the cube was affected and kind of moved where he wanted it to.

"Look at you all excited about moving a little cube." I teased, rubbing my eyes. "You know, John called us for a lunch a few minutes ago."

For a second, Devon looked like he was going to say thank you. "You know, Sparky, if you ever want help not barbequing all of us, I'll help you." Devon smiled while looking at me no less, and I took that as a win.

I couldn't stand this weird new niceness. "Keep it together, Carrie. You wanna play the game again?"

The game was simple, I shot fire, while Devon moved the cube to avoid it. The game would be the reason I got a heart attack because I always panicked when my flames first licked the walls.

So we started it again, and I shot fire faster this time, knowing that John wouldn't let anyone at the table eat until we all got there.

Devon wildly dodged the first two, brows furrowed in concentration, and then another, and then-

"Take that, sucker!" Devon whooped, pumping a fist in the air, and I laughed.

"Oh, shit," Devon said ominously, and the cube smashed its way out of a window. "Goddamn it, Simin, that's gonna leave a mark!"

"Me?!" I was unable to stop laughing. With a lot of focus, I carefully put or stomped the remaining fires out, and then both of us surveyed the damage.

"Well, no more window, but that's okay, the air conditioning here is garbage!" I smiled, making Devon laugh surprisedly.

"Devon? Simin? Ach du lieber Gott, what are you two doing up there?!" John shouted from downstairs and both of us scrambled panickedly to make our excuses.

"Sorry! It's all Devon's fault!" I shouted, hurrying downstairs.

"John's she's been distracting me for hours! Simin literally can't control where she shoots!" Devon yelled back, following right behind me.