“I’m in,” she said, with almost no hesitation. A natural beauty with straight, dark hair, she obviously had no problem being decisive. The response was the same from my best friend, Smokescreen. “You can’t leave me out,” Smokey said. As an empath, I sensed that he felt almost cheerful about it, (even though I typically ignore the feelings of those around me). We were sitting around the dining room table at Smokey’s house at the time – a cozy, two-story affair in a mostly middle-class neighborhood. His parents were having a date night, and since he was the only kid still living at home, we had the place to ourselves. That made it perfect for letting them know what I intended to do. (I had briefly considered telling them a few days earlier at my house, but I lived with two world-class telepaths. Although my mother and grandfather usually don’t read other people’s thoughts, I was afraid that – after I told them what I was planning – Electra and Smokey might be so distressed that their thoughts would be an open invitation to any psychic in shouting distance.) Apparently, I needn’t have worried, because both were clearly on board with what I was planning, although that was never my intention.
