“It’s a very specific kind of angry,” he explains. “Like, disappointed and pissed all at once.” Yep, that pretty much nails it.

“‘I want him to like me’?” I echo Caleb’s own words back at him.

“What?” His face scrunches up as he turns to look at me.

“Was that…” I don’t even want to ask the question but it needs to be asked. “… flirting?”

“Ew, what?” Caleb looks genuinely disgusted, which soothes me a little. “God, he’s, like, ten years older than us!”

I can tell we’re about to get into a dumb argument when I hear—

“Um, boys?”

Both our heads snap toward the girl, still standing over us. Her hand is raised awkwardly in an effort to gain our attention, and I feel foolish having this fight (if that’s what it is) in front of her.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I ask.

“Oh, I’m Chloe.” She sticks out her hand for us to shake it. “Nice to meet you.”

A mind reader. A mind reader and a fucking mind controller. Or, no, that’s not what Damien is, apparently. He … pushes thoughts onto people? Emotions? That’s what Chloe—the mind reader—said.

I wouldn’t have guessed that getting coffee with a mind reader would be one of the least insane parts of my day, but it actually shed light on a lot of things. Chloe is a patient of Dr. Bright’s too, and she explained Damien’s power. How it wasn’t Caleb’s fault that he wanted Damien to like him. That’s how it works—Damien wants something and you want it too. And because Caleb is an empath, Damien’s want was doubled. He took the brunt of it for us and I feel horrifically guilty over my momentary jealousy.

Whatever you want to call what Damien does, it’s pretty terrifying, and I’m wondering if the name is a self-appointed moniker or a nice piece of prescient work on the part of his parents. Oh god, it really could be psychic parents, couldn’t it? That’s the realm of reality in which I now exist.

I need to lie down.

No. What I really need is more information. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is king. Knowledge can help me prepare for whatever crazy thing is going to get thrown at us next. It’s what’s going to help me be a good boyfriend to this incredible, unusual, strange, wonderful guy I’m dating. I need knowledge.

I hop off the kitchen counter, where I’d been sitting, staring blankly into space, and walk into my parents’ office to find my dad standing in front of his filing cabinet, flipping through folders.

“Dad?” I ask, feeling like a little kid, “can we talk?”

“Of course.” The filing cabinet drawer clicks shut as he turns to face me. “What’s on your mind?”