Bloody hell. People these days, eh? You go through so much together: jumping off a skyscraper, fighting off assassins, lighting sandalwood scented candles, and then they just ghost you. Like it all meant nothing. That hurts, man.

I finally understood all those women who complained that they felt used by me. My pride stung. I mopped around Uncle Dave's house until he started putting things on top of me, like I was part of the furniture.

How could she do this to me?

I sat around the living room, staring out the window for what felt like months. In all honesty I have no idea how much time passed. I was fully engrossed in my Vision. Yeah, it came back as soon as she left.

Of course, I didn't want her back! Would you want someone who didn't even leave you their phone number after you save them from sure death? She could go jump off some other building for all I cared. Or be hunted down by assassins. Or start the next big London fire from a single candle. Whatever.

I was just a little bit curious. Like would we ever cross paths again? Only in the interest of preparing myself for the next encounter. No ulterior motive. Purely for self-preservation purposes. Yeah, that was it. I wanted a heads up.

So I sat on the armchair, staring at the reel of my future and trying different choices to see if the weird black and white French girl would pop up in any of my Visions.

"Are you planning to go home any time soon?" Uncle Dave suddenly appeared in front of me with a glass of freshly squeezed carrot juice in one hand and a Kindle in the other. I realised I was sitting in his reading spot.

As it usually happened when confronted with another Seer, my Vision showed me two options of the immediate future: my uncle would either give up and go sit on the sofa, or he'd dump his glass of juice on my brand-new pair of Louis Vuitton trousers. Based on previous experiences I knew which one was more likely, so I got up and moved to the couch.

"You're still hung up on that girl, I take it?"

Uncle Dave asked, re-arranging the cushions on the armchair, quietly mumbling that I was a slob.

Usually, I liked telling Uncle Dave about the girls in my life. Perhaps he didn't want to know as many details about my personal life as I shared, but he tried to be a good listener. However, this time his question annoyed me. I didn't want to talk about Amelie. For starters she wasn't even one of "the girls in my life". She was the only girl who Irish exited my life.

"Wasn't it strange though?" I finally settled on an approach that allowed me to preserve my dignity. "You said yourself you never lost your Vision like that before. Why would that happen if she wasn't Elysian?"

Uncle Dave let out a big sigh and put his Kindle down on his lap.

"I was worried you'd find that attractive. You always did like your adrenaline."

"Who said anything about attraction?" I cried.

"Personally I was relieved when she left. Don't get me wrong, she seemed like a nice enough girl, but this," he motioned towards his eyes, "this ability of hers scares the hell out of me. It's not normal."

Jack walked over with two cups of coffee and sat one in front of me.

"Dave, just tell him already," Jack prompted. "I love Exla, but we haven't had any alone time in three weeks." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

Uncle Dave blushed, then coughed embarrassed.

"Yes, right. Well, Exla, seeing as you're unlikely to drop this matter, I suggest you to go see my friend Marie. Remember her? Tall skinny woman with a huge ginger perm? She's a professor of Ancient History and Mythology. She's a Sniffer obviously, and she has very extensive knowledge of our lore. She might have an idea about why your mysterious crush was cancelling our Vision."

I perked up considerably at this news. Perhaps if I understood more about Amelie's "Bad Luck" as she called it, I could track her down...I mean anticipate when...if we ever met again. Just to be prepared.

"Where do I find this Marie?"

"Professor Rosen teaches at ."

A light went on in my head. Hillberry College! That's where Amelie studied! How did I forget?

I all but kissed my uncle I was so happy. He reluctantly called the college and got me enrolled. Yes, I know, sounds unrealistic. If I were a Defect I'd need to apply at the right time, send in grades, high school records which I was missing, and recommendations that nobody in their right would ever give me. But luckily there are Elysians working in most big establishments and our lot pretty much invented nepotism.

Of course, I went shopping before my first day of school. Do you know how hard it is to find a backpack that doesn't look like you sell newspapers for a living, but at the same time doesn't make you look like a complete tool who spends a fortune on a backpack? I don't know the answer to that because I went with option B.

Even though my uncle called ahead to let Professor Rosen know that I was coming and gave me her class schedule, it took me a while to make her acquaintance.

Out of pure curiosity I decided to explore the campus. And coincidentally the first building I stumbled upon was the library. A narrow cobblestone path led me to the old stone building. I was starting to get anxious when I took another step and suddenly my Vision disappeared.

I grinned. She was here.

Trying hard not to look like I'm running, I speed-walked the rest of the way. Throwing the massive wooden doors open and scanned the interior.

It wasn't as old school and poetic as the exterior would have you think. Most of the book-shelves looked cheap, made of unnaturally orange wood. The long reading tables were all different. Some were fine dark wood, and beautifully carved, while others looked like they were borrowed from a kindergarten.

Among the myriad of dishevelled and unkempt students, it was easy to spot Amelie. She was wearing another sharp black and white ensemble. This time it was a white sweater with a black cross covering the front and back, and a long black skirt with a long black skirt with a slit on the side. Nobody else looked nearly as stylish – though it wasn't exactly my thing.

The grin refused to leave my face. Fuck it. I admit. I was glad to see her again.

Or rather I was glad for all of 30 seconds, at which point a tall dark and handsome young man tapped her on the shoulder.