Before any of you jump to conclusions or have a chance to ask: I’m not worried about anything romantic between this guy and my sister. She’s gay and very open about it, so that’s not a concern. But to that point … if it’s not some creep preying on her, then what is he doing? I don’t know, I kind of want to tag along on her next hang with him and read his mind. But am I just being a crazy, overprotective brother?

chuckxavier

You know my feelings on using information from people’s thoughts to manipulate or control them, but if you’re genuinely concerned about your sister’s safety, you should definitely step in. What’s the point of having these abilities if we can’t at least use them to protect the ones we love?

onmyown

For once, I completely agree with Chuck. Do whatever you need to do to protect your sister. Trust your gut.

theneonthorn

how do you know this guy is bad news if you’ve never met him?

thatsahumanperson

I mean, that’s sort of the point—I think I should meet him and listen in, find out what he’s really about.

theneonthorn

I’m just saying, give the guy the benefit of the doubt. everyone deserves a first chance.

JANUARY 31ST, 2017

“Promise me you won’t get weird about this, but I want to try something.”

Those were the words that Damien greeted me with when I sat down on our bench this morning.

“Hello to you too,” I said, smiling into my coffee cup. I breathed in the smell of the grounds, that sharp, warm scent snapping me awake. Being around Damien was like that. He didn’t pull punches in conversation—he was direct and unapologetic, in the way that I am in dreams; in the way I want to be in real life.

“I want to dreamdive with you.”

“What?” I nearly choked on my coffee.

“I know you’ve already been in my dreams, but I don’t remember,” he said pragmatically, like this wasn’t the weirdest conversation I’d ever had.

“I…” I searched for anything to say. “Even if you fall asleep knowing I’m going dreamdiving, that doesn’t mean you’ll remember. I don’t think it works like that.”

“Have you tried?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Um, yeah,” I said, laughing awkwardly, “that’s kind of the whole point of going to the AM. All the doctors I dreamdived into didn’t remember anything about it on the other side.”

“Oh.” Damien settled back against the bench, looking disappointed. If possible, the bags under his eyes looked worse every single day—it felt like soon his entire face would be one weary bruise.

“Damien, what’s—” I started, “I mean, why … why do you want to do this?”