I have to admit, I like Eugene. I’m glad I met him. It’s refreshing to have another smart person to talk to, besides Bert.

It takes us a few minutes to choose our next ‘volunteer,’ a tall guy in his mid-twenties who lives a few doors down from Eugene and Mira.

“Hi Brad,” Eugene says. “I ran out of salt as I was cooking. Mind if I borrow some?”

The guy looks confused. “Salt? Um, okay, sure. Let me see if I can get some.” As he turns away, Eugene winks at me. As we agreed, I phase in and touch Eugene’s forehead to bring him into the Quiet.

It works, as expected. We are in the Quiet, which I guess, given Eugene’s favorite theory, might be another universe of some kind. I don’t dwell on the many questions about this alternate reality, if that’s what it is. I have something much more interesting to do. I walk up to Brad, touch his temple with my index finger, and close my eyes.

Then I do the breathing meditation.

What the fuck? Who runs out of salt? The thoughts running through our mind are less than flattering toward Eugene. And who’s this other guy? His boyfriend? Wouldn’t surprise us. We always suspected that Mira’s geeky brother was gay.

I, Darren, realize that Brad knows both Eugene and Mira. And I know I only have seconds before I play his memory to the current moment, which Eugene told me would force me out of the guy’s head. So I try to do something different. As Eugene instructed me earlier, I try to ‘fall’ deeper into Brad’s mind.

I picture myself lighter than air. I visualize myself as a feather, slowly floating down into a calm lake on a windless day. I become a sense of lightness.

And then it happens.

We are in a movie theater. We are on a date. We look at the girl sitting next to us, and I, Darren, can’t believe my eyes. We’re sitting next to Mira. When we start making out with her, I, Darren, think that maybe I really have gone crazy. But no, there is a simpler explanation. I get it when I try falling deeper again.

We’re standing in front of Mira’s apartment door holding flowers. “These are for you,” we say when she opens the door.

We feel pretty slick. The flowers are a means to an end. We want to get our hot neighbor into bed.

“Oh, how sweet,” she says drily when she sees us. “Am I supposed to swoon now?” She then proceeds to tell us exactly what she thinks we’re planning. I, Darren, realize that she must’ve done what I’m doing. She must’ve Read Brad’s mind—or maybe she just used common sense. Why else does a guy give a girl flowers?

We’re surprised at our neighbor’s bluntness. Impressed, even. We admit that, yes, we want to sleep with her, but that she should still take the flowers. She does. Then she sets the ground rules. Nothing serious. She has no time for relationships, she says. A movie, dinner, and, if she thinks we’re worth it afterwards, maybe she’ll go to our place. That’s it. Just a one-time thing, unless the whole thing goes exceptionally well. In that unexpected eventuality, she might, maybe, initiate another encounter.

We agree. What sane guy wouldn’t?

I, Darren, experience the dinner and the movie. It’s awesome. All of it.

We get back to our—Brad’s—apartment.

We’re in the bedroom. We’re kissing Mira. I, Darren, am jealous that an asshole like Brad gets to do this with Mira. That feeling doesn’t last, though. We’re immersed in the experience. Mira’s perfect naked body. Her lips on ours. It’s everything we ever hoped it would be.

Unfortunately, it’s too much of everything we ever hoped it would be. I, Darren, can feel us—Brad—losing control. No amount of baseball stats will pull this guy back from the edge. Just like that, we have a problem. Apparently Mira is a little too good-looking, because before I, Darren, even realize what’s going on, things happen somewhat . . . prematurely.

Mira’s reaction to the situation is admirable. She’s not mad, she insists. She says not to worry about it. Says she had a good time. She isn’t fooling us, though. She leaves quickly and never speaks to us about this night, or anything else for that matter, again.

I’m back in my body in the Quiet, and the first thing I do is punch Brad in the face.

“What are you doing?” Eugene exclaims, looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Trust me,” I say, resisting the urge to also kick the guy. What a loser. Not only did he sleep with Mira, he didn’t even have the decency to be good at it. “He doesn’t feel it. Right?”

“Well, yeah,” Eugene admits. “At least I highly doubt he feels it. But it looks disrespectful.”

It’s almost too bad that Brad can’t feel the punch. I debate punching him once we phase out, but decide against it. I mean, what possessed me? Mira isn’t my girlfriend to be overprotective about. She might not even like me when we meet. One thing is clear, though. Without having said a word to her in real life, I like her.

It’s shallow, I know. I’d like to say it’s based on the fact that I liked talking to her as Brad at that dinner—which I did. But truthfully, I just want to see her body again. I have to kiss her again. It’s weird. I wish I had been in someone else’s mind for this, my second Reading. I wish it hadn’t been Brad. I really need to find a boring person whose mind I can do this Reading thing with.

“Let’s phase out,” I tell Eugene, and without waiting for his answer, I touch my forehead.

The world comes back to life, and Brad brings us the stupid salt. Eugene thanks him, and we walk back toward Eugene’s apartment.

“How was that?” Eugene asks on the way.

He has no idea this thing happened between his sister and his neighbor. I decide to respect whatever shred of privacy these two have, and at least not mention anything to Eugene.

“That was a good start,” I say. “I think we should go outside and do some more.”

“Eugene,” a pleasant female voice says. A voice I just heard in Brad’s memory. “Who the fuck is this?”

I look up and find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. Again.