When you're a Reader, forgetting is impossible. Two weeks ago, I tried forgetting Jason. I did everything I could to put him out of my mind but found it impossible. Everywhere I look, I see his smile, in the face of every man I Read I see his eyes, in all my dreams, he caresses my hair and skin. It's been six hundred and four thousand seconds since I last saw him and each one has been filled with thoughts of him.
I know that I need to give this up. Readers are not meant for love. They are not meant to find someone who will share their life with them. The power doesn't always manifest itself in the way it did in me, but it always brands the unlucky individual who has it as different, condemning them to a lifetime of solitude. While only another Reader can identify it in a person, the power still exerts an influence on Norms, making them keep their distance from you, no matter how much they may like you as a person. The power buzzes in their heads like a flock of mosquitos, barely audible, but just enough to make them uncomfortable. The only times a Reader can get close to a person is when they're Reading them. Most of my clients are regulars, people who call me again and again to experience their fantasies over and over but if I ran into one of them on the street, they'd cross to the other side before I could get within shouting distance. As much as I need to see Jason again, I couldn't taking that happening. I couldn't handle his reaction when faced with a Reader under normal circumstances.
I watch the cigarette smoke curl up in front of me, hazing my view of the city below. This is my sixth in the last hour, and the last one of my fourth pack today. I've been smoking so much the last two weeks I'm even getting winded going down the block to the grocery store and back. If I were sleeping, it would give me a break from my constant smoking but I've found that everytime I close my eyes, Jason's smile flashes in front of me. Even just remembering it lights up my world until I remember that I'll only see it when I'm not me. I'll only see it when I'm Laira.
I turn and head towards the office, angrily extinguishing my cigarette as I do. This is ridiculous. I can't waste my life away pining over someone who I will probably never see again. I can't throw away everything I've enjoyed just because I Read someone who was an honest to goodness good person. I open my planner and look up the number of the client who was supposed to be here now. Earlier, I had cancelled all of my appointments, too depressed to deal with the reality of my life's calling, but now I think doing that will help me concentrate on something other than Jason. I find the number and reach for the phone.
It rings before my hand reaches it. The voice that comes out of the receiver sends my heart racing.
"Hello? Are you there?" It's Jason.
"Yes I'm here." I'm amazed that my lungs have enough breath to form the words.
"Look, I don't want to be too forward but..."
"You want to set up another appointment?"
I'm not sure if I'm Reading him unintentionally or if I'm just imagining his reaction, but I can feel him blushing over the phone.
"Well, um, yeah."
Is my heart still in my chest? It can't be, I'm certain it's taken wings and flown away.
"I guess I can fit you in. Are you free today?"
"Yeah, what time?"
"My seven o'clock cancelled. Meet me here then OK?"
"Sure."
I must be insane. I have to be crazy. Only a crazy person would be excited about this. He's not really coming to see me, he's coming to see Laira. He's no different than any other client, he just wants to be Read and be gone. But he's going to be here, in my arms, kissing me, caressing me, loving me. Call me crazy if you want, but I close my eyes, reach my arms out and spin with joy. Call me crazy if you want, but I'm so happy I could fly.
I know that I need to give this up. Readers are not meant for love. They are not meant to find someone who will share their life with them. The power doesn't always manifest itself in the way it did in me, but it always brands the unlucky individual who has it as different, condemning them to a lifetime of solitude. While only another Reader can identify it in a person, the power still exerts an influence on Norms, making them keep their distance from you, no matter how much they may like you as a person. The power buzzes in their heads like a flock of mosquitos, barely audible, but just enough to make them uncomfortable. The only times a Reader can get close to a person is when they're Reading them. Most of my clients are regulars, people who call me again and again to experience their fantasies over and over but if I ran into one of them on the street, they'd cross to the other side before I could get within shouting distance. As much as I need to see Jason again, I couldn't taking that happening. I couldn't handle his reaction when faced with a Reader under normal circumstances.
I watch the cigarette smoke curl up in front of me, hazing my view of the city below. This is my sixth in the last hour, and the last one of my fourth pack today. I've been smoking so much the last two weeks I'm even getting winded going down the block to the grocery store and back. If I were sleeping, it would give me a break from my constant smoking but I've found that everytime I close my eyes, Jason's smile flashes in front of me. Even just remembering it lights up my world until I remember that I'll only see it when I'm not me. I'll only see it when I'm Laira.
I turn and head towards the office, angrily extinguishing my cigarette as I do. This is ridiculous. I can't waste my life away pining over someone who I will probably never see again. I can't throw away everything I've enjoyed just because I Read someone who was an honest to goodness good person. I open my planner and look up the number of the client who was supposed to be here now. Earlier, I had cancelled all of my appointments, too depressed to deal with the reality of my life's calling, but now I think doing that will help me concentrate on something other than Jason. I find the number and reach for the phone.
It rings before my hand reaches it. The voice that comes out of the receiver sends my heart racing.
"Hello? Are you there?" It's Jason.
"Yes I'm here." I'm amazed that my lungs have enough breath to form the words.
"Look, I don't want to be too forward but..."
"You want to set up another appointment?"
I'm not sure if I'm Reading him unintentionally or if I'm just imagining his reaction, but I can feel him blushing over the phone.
"Well, um, yeah."
Is my heart still in my chest? It can't be, I'm certain it's taken wings and flown away.
"I guess I can fit you in. Are you free today?"
"Yeah, what time?"
"My seven o'clock cancelled. Meet me here then OK?"
"Sure."
I must be insane. I have to be crazy. Only a crazy person would be excited about this. He's not really coming to see me, he's coming to see Laira. He's no different than any other client, he just wants to be Read and be gone. But he's going to be here, in my arms, kissing me, caressing me, loving me. Call me crazy if you want, but I close my eyes, reach my arms out and spin with joy. Call me crazy if you want, but I'm so happy I could fly.
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