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“It means that your thoughts are so loud, it’s like you’re speaking directly to me. I can’t hear everyone’s thoughts. And for some people, I only get bits and pieces. Most of the time, I can just ignore people altogether. With you, it’s like you’re shouting at me.”
“Awesome,” I say. “Any advice on how to turn it off?”
“If I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know. It’s not exactly fun being inside other people’s heads,” he says.
I should be offended, but I can see that. I don’t think I’d want to know what most people are thinking about me.
We travel through the empty hall, past the main door he brought me in through yesterday. The floors shine with the late afternoon sunshine pouring in through the window. If it weren’t for the fact that I was here against my will and the fact that these people killed my best friends, I might find it rather beautiful. Instead, all I see when I look around is a prison. A place I want to escape at my first chance.
“That pass is still your best bet,” he says.
I sigh. “Can’t you pretend you can’t hear everything I’m thinking?”
“Would that make you feel better?” he asks, surprisingly tenderly.
My brow furrows as I look over at him. For a moment, I see concern on his face. Then he goes back to an impassive expression.
“I don’t know,” I say, honestly.
He turns down a hall and we walk to a dead end with a narrow staircase. It looks like it’s been abandoned. “This is the back way. Go right up the stairs, three flights, then down the hall. First door on the left.”
“Thanks,” I say.
He nods and turns away. Flutters fill my stomach as I watch him go. There’s something about him that I can’t shake and it’s scaring the shit out of me.
