Lily's walk home felt… different. Usually, it was a mind-numbing exercise in filtering out the pedestrian thoughts of her classmates. Today, amidst the familiar chatter from Priya, Chloe, and Seth, there was a persistent, unsettling void. Kyle Bartlett. His existence was an unprecedented anomaly, and it clung to Lily's thoughts like a particularly stubborn piece of kimchi stuck between her teeth – unwelcome, yet utterly fascinating.
"Are you sure you're okay, Lily?" Seth's voice was gentle, his thoughts a soft ripple of genuine concern. She's quieter than usual. Even for Lily. Maybe a bad day?
"Just contemplating the cyclical nature of adolescent drama," Lily mumbled, attempting to project her usual aura of detached weariness. Inside, her mind was a whirlwind. Is he a mute telepathically? A psychic black hole? Did I lose a power? No, I just tied Chloe's shoelaces from across the street without touching them. My powers are fine. This is him.
Chloe, of course, picked up on none of this. Her thoughts were a shimmering cascade of outfit ideas for tomorrow. "Oh, you totally are, aren't you? Like, who even cares if Brenda and Mark broke up for the fifth time? It's so last week." Her mental eye-roll was almost as pronounced as Lily's own.
Priya, ever the pragmatist, was already mentally drafting a school-wide announcement about the upcoming bake sale. "Well, someone has to care. Community spirit, Chloe. Speaking of which, Lily, you're on baked goods sign-up for homeroom, remember?"
I remember, Lily thought. I remember every word of every conversation I've ever heard, along with the precise angle of the sun at the moment it was spoken, and what the speaker had for breakfast. "Right. Baked goods." She'd probably just telekinetically swap a few names around on the list to avoid actually baking. Or maybe she'd bake something herself. Something Korean. With lots of sugar. The thought of a sweet, chewy yakgwa briefly flickered, a tiny, comforting beacon in her Kyle-induced mental storm.
The moment they split off at Priya's street, Lily's attention immediately snapped back to the enigma. Kyle was walking a block ahead, still with a few football players. He laughed again, that booming, uninhibited sound. Lily strained her mental senses, focusing every ounce of her prodigious power. She tried to penetrate the blankness, like a surgeon trying to find a hidden nerve.
Nothing. It was utterly, maddeningly, silent.
She frowned. This was unprecedented. For years, she'd felt like a living library, able to access any thought, any memory, any emotion. And now, a single, oversized, unassuming male was a closed book. It was infuriating. And… captivating.
Her walk home was shorter than usual, as her thoughts were less on the mundane journey and more on the profound mystery. As she turned onto her street, the air, usually a calm reprieve after the cacophony of school, exploded with sound.
"Lily-chan! My darling daughter!"
Akari Evergreen burst out their front door, a vision in an apron, her face crumpled in an exaggerated expression of relief, as if Lily had just returned from a perilous deep-sea expedition instead of high school. Her thoughts, as always, were a swirling vortex of exaggerated emotions: My beautiful daughter! She's home! Is she happy? Did she eat enough? Oh, I missed her so much! Is that a smudge on her shirt?
"Mom, I was gone for six hours," Lily deadpanned, effortlessly deflecting her mother's outstretched arms with a subtle telekinetic ripple that made Akari stumble slightly but think she'd just lost her balance.
Just then, Hiroshi Evergreen, Lily's dad, popped his head out from behind Akari, a silly grin plastered on his face. "Welcome home, my little blossom! Your mother was just worried you'd been abducted by a rogue study group!" His thoughts were a simpler, more endearing chaos: Heh, Akari's being dramatic again. Wonder what's for dinner. Hope Lily laughs at my joke.
"Hiroshi! Don't joke about such things!" Akari wailed, wiping a theatrical tear from her eye. "My precious Lily-chan is all I have!" Her thoughts: Dramatic effect successful! She knows I love her!
Lily sighed, a real, audible sigh this time. This was her normal. An unending, overwhelming torrent of parental affection and absurdity that she couldn't simply turn off. It was almost as exhausting as the sheer volume of high school thoughts. Almost.
"I'm fine, Mom. Just… hungry." She strategically inserted the word 'hungry,' knowing it would immediately divert Akari's attention to culinary concerns.
It worked like a charm. Akari's thoughts immediately shifted to a frantic mental inventory of their refrigerator. "Oh, my poor little bird! You must be famished! I made your favorite! Kimchi jjigae!" Her enthusiasm was genuine, making it almost impossible for Lily to completely tune her out.
Hiroshi clapped his hands together. "Oh, good! I was hoping for that! Maybe some tteokbokki too, Akari-chan?" His thoughts: Please say yes. Please say yes. I love tteokbokki.
Lily's ears perked up. Tteokbokki. The very thought of the spicy, chewy rice cakes, drowned in savory-sweet sauce, sent a rare shiver of actual delight through her. Her weakness. It almost made her forget the baffling enigma of Kyle Bartlett for a full five seconds.
Later, at the dinner table, the kimchi jjigae steamed invitingly, its spicy aroma filling the air. Hiroshi enthusiastically ladled generous portions, his thoughts humming with simple satisfaction. Akari recounted a dramatic tale of encountering a rude cashier at the grocery store, her thoughts vividly replaying every dramatic pause and indignant sigh.
Lily ate, savoring the spicy kick of the jjigae, the warmth of the rice, the comforting familiar taste of Korea that few things could replicate. As she ate, her internal monologue, usually so critical and detached, had a rare moment of… contentment. This was good. This was real. This was one of the few things she truly looked forward to.
But even as she chewed, her mind drifted back. To the school hallway. To Kyle. The void.
He's a new student. Which means he'll be in classes. And maybe clubs. I'll have opportunities.
A strange, almost giddy determination settled over her. This wasn't just about curiosity anymore. This was about solving the universe's most intriguing riddle. And perhaps, just perhaps, it might even make senior year a tiny bit less boring.
She finished her jjigae, leaving a polite amount in her bowl, much to Akari's subtle mental disappointment (Oh, she didn't finish it all! Is she sad? Is she sick?) but Lily's thoughts were already strategizing. Tomorrow, she would begin her systematic investigation of Kyle Bartlett. Operation: Blank Canvas.