“Yeah, that makes sense.” I choke around a lump in my throat. The observation stings in its accuracy. I was tired. Because I assumed it would never change—that I would be lonely forever. That no one would ever understand. That no one ever could understand. But here’s proof that I was wrong, sitting next to me, all flesh and blood and genuine in a way that I’ve never before experienced. For some reason, that breaks my heart.

Now that I know about Caleb’s ability, I see how much what I feel affects him. I start to smile, and look up to see him already smiling. I get sad and his shoulders get heavy. And, as much as it’s been nice to not have to explain certain things, it makes me feel helpless. I can’t control my own happiness, how am I supposed to be responsible for someone else’s? How on earth is this actually going to work?

I’m trying to get us back to the easy flirtatious mood of a few minutes earlier when I see a vaguely familiar shape out of the corner of my eye.

“Oh hey.” I swat at Caleb’s shoulder and subtly gesture toward the sidewalk in front of Dr. Bright’s office. “Isn’t that guy one of Dr. Bright’s patients?”

“Where?”

“That one over there.” I gesture again, trying not to draw any attention to us. “The kind of shady-looking guy.”

I’m not sure I would have even noticed him if he hadn’t been wearing the exact same outfit and doing the exact same thing he was doing last time we saw him. He’s unbelievably average. Average in an almost weird way—like you look at him and the moment you look away, you’ve forgotten what his face looks like. But if you keep your eyes focused on him, you start to notice how incredibly out of place he looks. He’s dressed all in black—black Vans, black jeans, a black hoodie—and leaning against the brick building smoking a cigarette. It’s … a look.

“Oh yeah…” Caleb breathes. “We’ve definitely seen him here before.”

“What do you think his ability is?” I ask, suddenly excited by all the possibilities.

“It’s definitely not invisibility,” he scoffs. “God, could he look more conspicuous?”

“Seriously,” I laugh, “he’s really gunning for the role of ‘Shady Park Guy Number Five.’” Caleb laughs loudly and I smirk, satisfied. But the sound seems to catch the attention of Shady Guy.

“Ooh, whoops,” I whisper, turning my head to talk into Caleb’s shoulder, “I think he caught us staring. Quick, look like you’re talking to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Caleb says, amused. “I doubt he’s looking at us—”