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Back The Infinite Noise Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

We’re getting somewhere now, and I realize I need to be economical with my questions. I want to ask about Damien and Chloe—find out if my dad knows about mind control and telepathy (holy fuck, I still can’t believe those things are real)—but the most important thing is Caleb. He’s always first priority.

“Okay, so, let’s speculate.” I try to match his casualness. “If someone could do something like read minds, how would you deal with that?”

“As a scientist?”

“As a person.”

And here it is. The crux of it all. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend to Caleb. I wouldn’t know how to be a boyfriend to Caleb even if he was just the incredibly handsome football-playing Golden Boy. I especially don’t know how to be a boyfriend to someone with a supernatural ability.

“Why do you ask?” The head tilt is back.

“I’m just … speculating,” I echo, hoping that will be enough.

“How are things going with Caleb?” He pivots and the question is like a shot of adrenaline to the heart. Is he trying to change the subject or is he connecting the dots?

“Things are fine.” I nod nervously. “They’re good.” I let him lead the conversation away from science and into the equally uncharted territory of talking about my relationship with Caleb with my father, keeping an eye out for land mines all the while.

42

CALEB

Dr. Bright’s emotions are a swirl of worry, surprise, and anger, all wrapped up in a black tar of self-loathing. Nothing in her body language or face has changed in the last ten minutes as I’ve described our encounter with Damien and Chloe, but her emotions are telling me that she wants to bury her face in her hands and tear her hair out. I know how she feels.

“Caleb,” she says, an entire sentence on its own. “I am so sorry that this happened. Damien never should have confronted you—it was completely inappropriate and I will most certainly be having a conversation with him about it. Though, as much as I like to keep my patients separate, I am glad that Chloe intervened.”

I’m glad too, to be honest. I have no idea what would have happened if Chloe hadn’t stepped in. I’ve never felt like that before—I’ve spent almost this whole year with other people invading my space, my feelings, my brain, but I’ve never felt like I’ve been body-snatched. Being around Damien was like freezing to death. I was getting warm and sleepy and compliant, and if things had kept going I would have eventually lost all of my own brain functioning. It reminded me of Henry at the dance—that cold, slimy determination—except, this time, the feeling slithered its way into me and none of my defenses could keep it out.