"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. 

You wanted to know, he reminded himself on his way to the cafeteria. You just had to text Neil last night. You could have left it all alone.

Well, there was no leaving it alone now. Otherwise he'd be scared of every midnight of the rest of his (possibly very short) life.

Neil was sitting at the same cafeteria table he was in yesterday, along with the same group of friends. Ethan pulled up short when he saw them all, suddenly second-guessing everything that led him here. 

He never actually saw Neil say to meet him in the cafeteria. He only heard it. That was an important distinction, it seemed. He could have been imagining all of this after all. Maybe he was just tired and his mind was playing tricks on him. 

But then Neil caught Ethan's eye and waved. 

Waving me over? Or just waving? 

"Hey," said Neil, and Ethan realized he had already walked up to Neil's table. "Have a seat."

Neil's mouth was moving this time. He was really speaking. He probably always was speaking. How else would Ethan hear him?

Ethan removed his backpack and sat on the only empty chair surrounding the table. The other students studied him, making him feel self-conscious. One was big and stocky, with enough facial hair to be mistaken for an adult if it weren't for the acne. Next to him was an athletic-looking Chinese student with a buzz cut, his legs up on the corner of the table as though just to show off his Jordans. The last student at the table, other than Neil and Ethan, was a freckled girl with very short blond hair. When Ethan made eye contact with her she looked away demurely.

Neil introduced them as Duncan, Pryce, and Kara, respectively. Then he introduced Ethan.

"Hi," said Ethan to all of them. 

Duncan said hi with a big grin. Pryce nodded, an amused smirk on the edge of his lips. Kara said nice to meet you without looking directly at him. 

Ethan drummed his fingers on the table, wondering how to ask Neil about... everything. He didn't expect to have an audience, and he definitely didn't want anyone else thinking he believed Neil's dream man theory. Even if he did....

Pryce ended up speaking first. "So," he said. He grinned wider. "Spoiler alert: you're psychic."

Neil sighed.

Ethan wasn't sure he heard the right word. Psycho? Sidekick? He looked back and forth between Pryce and Neil, confused, hoping for clarification.

"You can't just say it like that," said Neil to Pryce.

"I wish someone would've just said it to me," said Pryce. "'Stead of babying me about it."

Neil opened his mouth as though to argue, then just made a hand gesture signaling Pryce to be quiet. Pryce rolled his eyes.

"What are we talking about?" asked Ethan.

Duncan grinned and said, "You're psychic."

Pryce and Kara laughed. Neil glowered at them. Kara at least had the good sense to cover her mouth and stop--Pryce just kept chuckling.

"Is this some kind of joke?" said Ethan, suddenly furious. He had spent the past hour wondering what Neil would say to him, wondering what the answers were to his questions, wondering if he was just being stupid, only to show up and get made fun of by strangers. 

Not waiting for an answer, Ethan got out of his seat.

"Wait," said Neil, grabbing Ethan's backpack to keep him from walking away. "Normally I'd let you leave and think this was all a game, but the situation is different this time. You're in danger. I know it; you know it. Without my help you'll be dead within a week. Sit down."

Ethan, still frowning, looked back over the faces at the table. Everyone went silent, their grins gone. Even Pryce pressed his mouth tight. After a couple frustrated breaths, Ethan lowered himself back onto his chair. He was too annoyed to even be phased by Neil's warning. What kind of game were these people playing?

"You said I was psychic. You obviously aren't serious."

Neil rubbed the back of his neck. "Normally we wouldn't be the ones to tell you. There's kind of a regimented process for informing people about their gift, but none of the Ascendent are taking the dream man threat seriously."

Ethan stared at him blankly.

"So it's up to us," Neil went on. "We can't just wait and see if you end up like the other victims. For what it's worth, though, I'm sorry we sprung this on you. Pryce apparently doesn't get that you can't just tell someone, 'Hey, you're psychic, now hop on the brain train to psychic school.'"

Duncan guffawed. His booming laugh was so startling it made the others laugh with him. Ethan almost joined them this time; the situation was absurd enough that laughing was the only way he could imagine reacting to it. He felt disconnected from himself, like this was happening to someone in a movie, or he was playing a character in a video game. 

"Let me ask you something," Neil said. "What do you think a psychic is?"

"A psychic?" Ethan shrugged. "I guess, like, a fortune teller."

"Not this kind. Try again."

Ethan flipped through his internal collection of movies, TV shows, games, and novels. "Like a Jedi?" he offered. "Or like Carrie, with pyrokinesis or whatever."

Neil grinned. "While that would be pretty awesome, we're not that kind of psychic either."

"We being who?"

"You, me, Pryce, and Kara." Before Ethan could ask, Neil said, "Duncan's not psychic. He's got other talents that help us, though."

Duncan said nothing; just nodded. The others remained silent as well. It was as though they were obeying a silent command by Neil to shut their traps.

"Can you read minds?" Ethan asked slowly, thinking very hard about the table. Table. Table, table. Blue table. Table is ... flat. Table table table. Table is not a shower. Wait, shit.

Neil tilted his head from side to side. "Not in the way you might think. I guess some psychics can, but... it takes a toll. Once you break that barrier it's hard to keep everyone's thoughts out of your head, or remember which ones are your own. Better not to try if you don't want to go insane."

Ethan swallowed.

"Don't worry," Pryce said with a wry smirk. "We won't tell anyone about your secret crush. He sounds really nice, though."

"Huh?"

Kara swatted Pryce. "We can't read minds," she said. "It's a rare talent, even among Ascendent. Which are, like, master psychics."

Ethan had to remind himself that he was just playing a role and wasn't serious about anything he was saying, but he could feel himself adapting to the situation, if not accepting it. He wasn't quite there, but he could tell he was on his way. It frightened him.

He spoke slowly. "How common are psychics?"

Neil shrugged. "As far as I know, we four are the only psychic students in this school. But very few psychics ever actually learn they're psychic. Most of the time, when people experience psychic phenomena, they attribute it to dreaming."

When Ethan couldn't pick between the million questions fighting to be asked first, Neil smiled and said, "It's a lot to take in. You have no idea. I've known I'm psychic for three years and there's still a mountain of things I don't fully understand. But it's fun to learn."

At this, the other students nodded in unison. Even Duncan, who was not himself psychic.

"Regardless," said Neil, "we can't teach you much here. We need to get you prepared for tonight."

"Why?" said Ethan. "What's tonight?"

Neil looked at him like the answer was obvious. "The dream man," he said. "He'll be coming for you again at midnight."

A chill rippled up Ethan's spine. He almost forgot. So it wasn't a dream....

"We need to make arrangements," said Neil. "Go get yourself something to eat. Gather your thoughts. I know you have a lot of questions, and I'll do my best to answer them--later."

Ethan looked at the four of them. There was still plenty of time in the lunch hour. "Are you guys going somewhere?"

"Not physically," said Pryce. "Feel free to eat elsewhere. Not because we don't cherish your company, but because we're about to get really quiet and it'll probably be awkward for you."

"And it does get awkward," said Duncan. "Trust me."

"We could let him, you know...," said Kara in a small voice.

Neil looked at her and shook his head. She seemed to get the message.

"Let me what?" said Ethan.

"Don't worry about it," said Neil. "We'll fill you in later, okay? It's better you get through the day of school before we show you the... well, you'll see."

Show me the what?! Ethan wanted to scream. Instead he just glowered and tightened his jaw. His chest was tight with anxiety over everything he'd heard over the past ten minutes, and a part of him wanted to run away and never look back. 

He managed to ignore the urge to yell and instead stood up on trembling legs. He slung his bag over his back and wobbled out of the cafeteria, shaking all over. 

Not knowing where else to go, he returned to the hallway where that quiet table by the janitor's closet was. Thankfully it was empty again. 

Mechanically, he pulled his lunch out of his bag and unpacked it. Was he even hungry? He couldn't tell. He was still dissociating from himself, from everything that just happened. It was some other person staring down at a sushi bento box--Ethan was just watching from somewhere else. Ethan was still the same person. But the guy with the bento box, he was... he was a....

Ethan's mind went blank and reset itself. He stopped shaking. The word psychic lost all meaning, as though he'd repeated it to himself too many times.

He picked up his chopsticks and began transferring food from the bento box to his mouth. His sushi rice tasted like paper. Even his senses seemed too stunned to behave properly. He'd left the little fictional world he'd made to keep himself composed during the conversation with Neil, and now he was back in the real world, where the word psychic referred to--yes--fortune tellers and anime heroes. The real world, where people couldn't send messages to his mind, and dream men couldn't kill him in his sleep.

The real world. Real life. Psychics weren't real. They weren't. He was being tricked, somehow. He was the unwitting star of some bizarre reality show. Even Uncle Vic was in on it. Ethan was being played. Deceived.

And Neil wanted to see him after school, to continue pranking him. That bastard. Would he, Ethan, bother going? Or would he try to catch up with Violet, who said she'd see him tomorrow--meaning today? 

He had a definite preference. Unfortunately, he also had an obnoxiously strong sense of curiosity.