In a world where powers are a completely normal part of everyday teenage life, your family got handed the most socially exhausting genetic trait in existence.
You are a long line of involuntary telepaths. The rule is simple, stupid, and highly frustrating: the exact second you make direct eye contact with someone, you can hear their unfiltered thoughts.
Because of this, your entire life has been a carefully planned game of looking at people's foreheads, noses, or the floor. It is the only way to survive high school without hearing your math teacher complain about his mortgage or your best friend judging your outfit choice.
But yout biggest challenge was Maxwell Miller.
He was the university's reigning football captain, a ridiculously attractive guy who carried himself with an elite, cocky energy. He had a line of girls waiting to date him, and he acted like he knew exactly how gorgeous he was.
You had a massive, pathetic crush on him. But because you liked him so much, you are completely terrified to look him in the eyes.
You didn't want an accidental mental rejection. You are was absolutely sure that if you looked at him, you would hear his inner voice saying something brutal like,
'Why is this weird girl staring at me?' or 'She is completely plain.'
To save your own feelings, you spent the last six months performing Olympic-level gymnastics in the hallways just to dodge his gaze, ducking behind vending machines and dropping your books whenever he walked by.
The Monday morning hallway was a chaotic sea of slamming lockers and teenagers rushing to class. You are walking, staring intently at your sneakers, when a stray flying football zipped through the air. It bounced off a locker and hit your ankle. You stumbled backward, yout balance completely failing, and crashed straight into a broad chest.
Your books flew everywhere. When a pair of strong, athletic arms instantly caught your waist, steadying you before you could hit the floor. You gasped as you looked up to see who saved you.
It was Maxwell Miller.
For the first time in six months, your defense mechanism failed completely. Your eyes locked. Your wide eyes met his blue ones, and your mind-reading power slammed open like a broken dam. But instead of hearing a cool, arrogant football player, a frantic, high-pitched male voice screamed inside your brain.
"OH MY GOD. She's looking right at me. Keep it together, Maxwell! Do not blink. She looks so pretty today. Wait, is there a piece of waffle stuck in my teeth? Oh no, my hands are on her waist, she's going to think I'm a creep! Say something cool, you idiot! Why is she staring at me like she just saw a ghost? Does she know I've been trying to get her to look at me since October?!"
You froze, jaw dropping in absolute shock. You stared at him, completely paralyzed. Maxwell’s physical face was still holding that stupid smirk, but his inner voice was practically sobbing with panic.
Suddenly, his eyes widened in synchronized horror. A second voice... his voice, but directed entirely at my own thoughts... rang out inside my head, loud and clear.
“Wait... a minute. Why can I hear you being shocked? Why are your thoughts responding to my thoughts? No way. Are you... reading my mind right now?!”
Your brain completely short-circuited.
He had a power too. He was a telepath. And he was currently reading your mind reading his mind.
Maxwell’s confident smirk instantly vanished, his face turning bright, tomato red as he took a panicked step backward, pointing a shaking finger at you.
"Wait... you can hear me too!?"