Open Minds by Susan Kaye Quinn

the meadow. Simon shut off the car, and the moonlight painted his face silver.
    “Dipping is something readers do,” he said. “One person does the drinking while the rest dip into their fuzz by touching them somewhere on their bare skin.” He demonstrated by tapping my cheek with his fingertips. “They feel all the effects without the actual intoxication or hangover. Except for the drinker. They’re pretty messed up the next day.”
    “I thought… you couldn’t, you know, touch without…”
    His smile folded into a smirk. “Without getting a little too close for comfort?”
    This entire situation was making me uncomfortable.
    “That’s why they only dip for a second,” he said. “Only long enough for the effects to be felt, without all the uncomfortable closeness. Believe me, nobody wants to get that close to Martin.”
    Now that my eyes had adjusted to the moonlight, I could see figures attached to the flashlights in the dancing light show. “I don’t know about this.”
    “Don’t worry.” He stroked my cheek where he had tapped. “You won’t feel it. You’re not a reader, remember?”
    Like I could forget that.
    “That’s why you have to fake it.”
    I looked askance at him. “Right. Why are we doing this, again?”
    He leaned back. “You’re a changeling now. Time to be part of the crowd. Blending in makes you seem less suspicious.” His voice grew serious. “The worst thing is for people to know what we are, Kira. You have to keep the code of silence.”
    My eyebrows flew up. “Code of silence?”
    “That’s just what I call it. The vow of perpetual silence,” he intoned with mock solemnity. “Trust me; you don’t want people to know what you can do.”
    I didn’t trust Simon, but I knew he was right about that. If people knew we could control them, life would be a whole lot worse. In ways I didn’t even want to think about.
    The lights in the field had settled low to the ground. Pretending to party with Simon’s friends wouldn’t be my worst lie of the day. Simon retrieved the case of beer, and we tromped through the grassy field, chirping insects falling silent as we invaded their territory. Simon’s merry band huddled on a blanket thrown over the weeds.
    I hesitantly linked to them once we were within range. Their chatter roared to life, clamoring in my mind, and I stumbled over a rock hidden in the grass. Their thoughts and mind-scents blended together. Bald curiosity rippled through their minds.
    The mental volume stepped down as Simon introduced me.
This is Kira.
His thoughts echoed in their minds.
    The girl put a flashlight under her chin and made a face.
Hi Kira, I’m Katie
. Her dark wiry hair was pulled into a ponytail, which exploded into a puff.
    Hi,
I linked the thought to her. She looked me up and down and pictured a girl that wouldn’t be happy about how pretty I was. Before I had a chance to respond, the muscle-bound blond who sat next to her rumbled in with,
Hey, Kira
. His name was Zach and his shirt sleeve was rolled up to reveal pale skin darkened by tattoos. A third boy, Miguel, lounged at the very edge of the blanket, a blade of grass hanging from his mouth. He chimed in with a subdued,
Hey
. I probed and found he was the artist behind Zach’s tattoos.
    In the dead center sat a boy that must be Martin, the designated drinker. His gangly arms seemed too long for his body, and his legs were folded up like a floppy doll.
    His eyes were on Simon.
Did you get it?
    Simon handed him the pack of beers, and Martin tore the paper binding apart. The glass bottles spilled out and clanked together on the blanket. He opened a beer and chugged the entire thing in a long series of gulps. Simon gestured for me to sit near Martin, then sat next to me. He shifted close, nearly touching my leg and earning a raised eyebrow from Katie. An image of Simon pinning me against the lockers flashed through Katie’s mind, and my tangle of emotions flared again. She must have seen the