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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

“Yeah, believe it or not, that isn’t actually what I’m talking about,” I bite, running my hands over my hair. I can’t let my parents steer this conversation away from what I actually want to talk about. I have to be the one to stay in control.

“I’m referring to the fact that you both work for an organization that hurts people like Caleb—”

“Now, son, you know that isn’t true—” my dad interrupts, and I want to groan in frustration. Yes, I know that isn’t what my parents do, or so they say. They spent the whole summer telling me that they’ve only done a couple of projects with the AM and that they’ve always involved volunteers. That the experiment with Frank was a military operation and it went wrong but Frank knew the risks. That my parents want to help Atypicals and that sometimes means doing radical things.

I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced anything as jarring as no longer trusting my parents. I believe that they love me, that they want the best for me and the world, but I’m not sure we have the same ideas on how to go about ensuring that. I’ve played it cool, listening carefully as they talked at me all summer, explaining how all their work is legal and safe and totally aboveboard. And I know that they believe that. I’m just not sure if they should.

“I just need to know that you’re not going to do anything to him.” I raise my voice to talk over their protestations and they both turn silent at the stern look on my face. “I need to know that you’re not going to tell anyone about him or do—I don’t know, anything that could make him feel more different than he is.”

“Of course, darling,” my mom says, her eyes big and pleading. “We’d never want to hurt Caleb. Ever. How could you think that we would?”

“I know that we’ve kept you in the dark a long time,” my dad says, laying his hand over my mom’s in solidarity, “but we won’t do that anymore. We promise.”

My mom nods fervently in agreement. There’s still an open wound that hasn’t gone away since I first learned about what my parents do. I still don’t trust them completely and, while that injury may never heal, their promises will have to be enough to keep it from bleeding.

62

CALEB

The crisp, warm scent of fall is in the air and I try to focus on the leaves crunching beneath my feet instead of the warring emotions inside of me. I’m nervous, excited, worried, sad, hopeful—the whole damn spectrum. The fact that it’s all my own doesn’t make it better.