Free The Thought Readers by Dima Zales Page A

Your gift for understatement doesn’t fail you,” I tell him. “I have hundreds of questions. But you know what? You know what I really want to do?”
    “You want to Read again?” he surmises.
    He’s spot on. “Can we?”
    “Sure.” He smiles. “Let’s ring some doorbells.”

Chapter 9
     
    I have to admit, I like Eugene. I’m glad I met him. It’s refreshing to have another smart person to talk to, besides Bert.
    It takes us a few minutes to choose our next ‘volunteer,’ a tall guy in his mid-twenties who lives a few doors down from Eugene and Mira.
    “Hi Brad,” Eugene says. “I ran out of salt as I was cooking. Mind if I borrow some?”
    The guy looks confused. “Salt? Um, okay, sure. Let me see if I can get some.” As he turns away, Eugene winks at me. As we agreed, I phase in and touch Eugene’s forehead to bring him into the Quiet.
    It works, as expected. We are in the Quiet, which I guess, given Eugene’s favorite theory, might be another universe of some kind. I don’t dwell on the many questions about this alternate reality, if that’s what it is. I have something much more interesting to do. I walk up to Brad, touch his temple with my index finger, and close my eyes.
    Then I do the breathing meditation.
     
    * * *
     
    What the fuck? Who runs out of salt? The thoughts running through our mind are less than flattering toward Eugene. And who’s this other guy? His boyfriend? Wouldn’t surprise us. We always suspected that Mira’s geeky brother was gay.
    I, Darren, realize that Brad knows both Eugene and Mira. And I know I only have seconds before I play his memory to the current moment, which Eugene told me would force me out of the guy’s head. So I try to do something different. As Eugene instructed me earlier, I try to ‘fall’ deeper into Brad’s mind.
    I picture myself lighter than air. I visualize myself as a feather, slowly floating down into a calm lake on a windless day. I become a sense of lightness.
    And then it happens.
    We are in a movie theater. We are on a date. We look at the girl sitting next to us, and I, Darren, can’t believe my eyes. We’re sitting next to Mira. When we start making out with her, I, Darren, think that maybe I really have gone crazy. But no, there is a simpler explanation. I get it when I try falling deeper again.
    We’re standing in front of Mira’s apartment door holding flowers. “These are for you,” we say when she opens the door.
    We feel pretty slick. The flowers are a means to an end. We want to get our hot neighbor into bed.
    “Oh, how sweet,” she says drily when she sees us. “Am I supposed to swoon now?” She then proceeds to tell us exactly what she thinks we’re planning. I, Darren, realize that she must’ve done what I’m doing. She must’ve Read Brad’s mind—or maybe she just used common sense. Why else does a guy give a girl flowers?
    We’re surprised at our neighbor’s bluntness. Impressed, even. We admit that, yes, we want to sleep with her, but that she should still take the flowers. She does. Then she sets the ground rules. Nothing serious. She has no time for relationships, she says. A movie, dinner, and, if she thinks we’re worth it afterwards, maybe she’ll go to our place. That’s it. Just a one-time thing, unless the whole thing goes exceptionally well. In that unexpected eventuality, she might, maybe, initiate another encounter.
    We agree. What sane guy wouldn’t?
    I, Darren, experience the dinner and the movie. It’s awesome. All of it.
    We get back to our—Brad’s—apartment.
    We’re in the bedroom. We’re kissing Mira. I, Darren, am jealous that an asshole like Brad gets to do this with Mira. That feeling doesn’t last, though. We’re immersed in the experience. Mira’s perfect naked body. Her lips on ours. It’s everything we ever hoped it would be.
    Unfortunately, it’s too much of everything we ever hoped it would be. I, Darren, can feel us—Brad—losing control. No amount of