Brian didn’t answer at first. It wasn’t as if keeping secrets and being introverted were new to him. If anybody had a decent chance of hiding an ability of that magnitude from family and friends, it was Brian. Say it was a holiday and he spent all day moping in the other room or didn’t speak for two hours; that was normal.

‘He’s contemplating the meaning of life,’ his dad used to say, popping leftovers in his mouth.
‘You mean worrying about things that don’t concern him,’ his mom answered over a sink of dirty dishes.

“I might hurt someone.” Brian spread his palms. “It’s not like I know what I’m doing. The only reason I know what it’s called is because I read Carrie.” He huffed a little laugh. "What am I supposed to say... can you help me? I contracted telekinesis."

Whoa. The word. He became uncomfortable.