Chloe pats me on the shoulder like she’s comforting me for fears I never expressed and turns to watch the game. Guess we’re done with that conversation. Whatever it was.

The rest of the game is like that. Caitlin cheers and eats so many pretzels I start to worry about her sodium levels and Chloe has a number of conversations with me in which I don’t say a word out loud. She keeps her voice low the entire time—telling me things about our classmates, about her art, responding to my thoughts—having seven conversations at once, all by herself.

The entire time I’m focused on the field. It’s surprisingly relaxing having Chloe chatter into my ear. I don’t have to worry about saying the right thing or being interesting, because she hears everything. I don’t have to hide because I can’t hide. The lack of choice is a strange relief.

So when she tells me she doesn’t mind that I’m paying more attention to Caleb than to her, I believe it. I’ve never seen Caleb like this. He’s tense and aggressive, speeding across the field, pushing other players out of the way when he needs to. In moments when he takes off his helmet to listen to the coach or get a drink of water, his face is serious and angry.

I know this is normal for him. One of the reasons he likes football is because it lets him get out all the rage in a healthy way. I don’t get it and I’m not totally sure I approve, but I’m glad it works for him. Even if seeing him like this makes my skin prickle—like being in love with Jekyll and getting a glimpse at Hyde.

“Have you told him yet?” Chloe whispers, and I think back on my own thoughts to find what she’s asking about.

“Told him what?” I ask.

“That you love him.” She smiles.

“Oh.” My face burns. God, while the lack of pressure in conversation in refreshing, knowing a mind reader is also sort of mortifying. And now I’ve thought that and the last thing I want to do is hurt Chloe’s feelings so I just focus on answering the question. “No, no, I haven’t.”

“You should.” She smiles like she knows a secret and I want to ask her what she’s heard in Caleb’s thoughts. But before I can she grimaces, squeezing her eyes shut before sighing and opening them to give me an apologetic look.

“All right”—she winces—“I think I’m officially tapped out.”

“Too many people?” I guess.

“Yep.” She nods slowly. “Dr. Bright wants me to ease back into group settings, but this may have been a little too much too fast.”