A Midnight Mind

Chapter 8: Mind Games

"I know you think I'm some weird kid that likes making up stories to scare people," Neil said without saying anything, "but I'm not. Or at least, I don't make up stories."

Neil's voice echoed through Ethan's mind without first passing through his ears. It was as though Ethan remembered Neil saying the words, like Neil had just said them, but the more Ethan thought about it the more he realized he never really heard anything. He just knew what was said.

The rest of the students settled down and Mr. Cheek began his lesson and none of them indicated they heard Neil's voice. Even Neil himself watched Mr. Cheek as though he had no awareness of his own conversation with Ethan.

"No one else can hear me," Neil's voice said. "And yes, this is really happening. Last night wasn't a dream, either. I know you think it was."

Ethan gulped. Can he read my mind? 

At that thought, he immediately remembered every embarrassing moment and secret of his life--everything he wouldn't want others to know. The time he wet his snow pants on an elementary school ski trip because he couldn't find a bathroom. The time he tried to do stand-up comedy at his junior high school talent show, to no laughter or applause. His old sketchbook full of compromising drawings of animated characters he used to have crushes on. This morning in the shower, trying to de-stress....

He flushed red and forced himself to think about--pancakes? Sure. Pancakes. Good old pancakes. Yum yum.

"There's a lot you need to know," Neil's voice went on, seemingly oblivious of Ethan's anxiety. "Meet me in the cafeteria at lunch. You know where I sit. We can discuss things then. Give me a thumbs-up if you understand."

Now the voice in his head was giving him instructions? This wasn't good. He'd have to see a doctor. God, Uncle Vic would psychoanalyze him. 

But... what if he wasn't crazy? He wanted to know if this was real. Really real. Maybe that was the most dangerous part of all of this, the need to know. But he couldn't help himself.

Palms sweaty, he raised a thumb from his balled fist.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Neil do the same.

That was when Ethan knew he wasn't crazy. At least, not yet.

The other students all moved as one, swarming out of the classroom just after the buzzer went off. Ethan fumbled with his books and bag, lagging behind. He felt like he'd just spun around in a swivel chair a hundred times. He honestly didn't know for sure if he was awake or not.

As he rose out of his seat, he avoided looking in Neil's direction. It was an instinctual resistance. His sanity couldn't take it if...

Neil said, "See you at lunch."

Ethan snapped his head up to see if Neil was physically speaking the words or if he was hearing things again. Neil's back was already turned as he walked out of the classroom with the other students.

When Ethan made it to the hallway, his heart pounding, Neil was nowhere to be found. If not for the interaction between the two of them and Violet yesterday, he'd have wondered if Neil was a figment of his imagination.

The next class crawled. Ethan's eyes were fixed on the clock, counting down the seconds until noon, and lunchtime. It reminded him of waiting for midnight the night before. He'd grown to dread the number twelve.

At soon as the lunch hour arrived, Ethan's stomach did a slow forward roll. He felt like he was on his way to an important interview or meeting that once seemed months away but was suddenly here and he wasn't prepared at all.