Chapter 2

Beep ... hiss ... beep ... hiss...

I gradually came to my senses. When I opened my eyes it was dark and I could barely see. I knew I wasn't in my own room and realized I must be in the hospital. From the sounds of it I was on some sort of life support. I was worried for a few seconds until I noticed the noise that woke me up was from the other bed in the room. As far as I could tell the only thing connected to me was a saline bag hanging next to the head of my bed.

I had no idea how long I had been here. I saw the nurse call button and figured that they would probably want to know that I was awake. I reached for the button but then hesitated as I suddenly remembered what had happened right before I passed out. It took me a few moments to sort things through and realize that Samantha and I hadn't made love. It had merely been some sort of hallucination. But there was no denying that I had very obviously ejaculated while in Samantha's embrace. There was no way she could have missed my release or, for that matter, the hardness of my member as she tried to help me.

Fuck.

I was such a pathetic loser.

She probably thought I was some sort of pervert. She must hate me.

I had been lying there in self-loathing misery for quite some time when an older nurse finally came in to do a scheduled bed check, something she enjoyed because it got her away from the others nurses and their mindless gossip filled prattle. I briefly wondered how I knew such things, but was quickly distracted from the thought.

"Oh good, you're awake, you gave everyone quite a scare." she whispered with a smile when she saw me looking at her. She grabbed my wrist to take my pulse. My stomach twitched and I realized that I was famished. "Breakfast isn't for another two hours," she said, "and I'm sure the doctor will want to look at you before he lets you eat, but I can get some apple juice if you would like."

I hadn't meant to say anything out loud. I didn't think I had. I figured I must have still been a little screwy from the beating.

"Just some water will be fine." I told her. My stomach was empty but thinking about the way Samantha must now feel about me had made me lose my appetite.

"Okay, dear, I'll be right back with some water."

"Wait, how long have I been here?"

She glanced at her watch, "You were brought in about four thirty in the afternoon, that would have been just about ten hours ago."

That was a relief; I half expected to hear I had slept through weeks or even months. Shit, my mother must be frantic.

"Could you call my mother and tell her I'm okay? I know she must be worried."

"I'm sure she's sleeping. We'll let her know first thing in the morning."

Just then, I knew that she had been here by my side until visiting hours had ended and they had to threaten her to get her to leave. I had a vivid recollection of the argument. I must have been semi conscious or something and heard it, though why I pictured Samantha with her I don't know.

"I guarantee she's awake. I know my mother."

"I'm sorry dear. One of the rules we have is that we don't make calls in the middle of the night. She couldn't come see you until morning anyway so there is no reason to wake her up."

<Screw the rules, > I thought, <just call her, I know she's awake and worried sick.> But I didn't say anything. The nurse was already turning to go and get my water.

When she returned I tried again, still keeping my voice low.

"Please, can't you call my mother?" I begged. "She must be beside herself."

"I'm really sorry. Regulations won't allow it and I'm sure she asleep."

<Fuck your regulations!> I wanted to scream out, <I know she's awake and I know she's worried.>

But I said nothing. This nurse was just doing her job and didn't deserve to be cursed at. Besides I didn't think she was going to budge no matter how hard I begged.

The nurse paused.

"She was terribly anxious last night." She said thoughtfully, "you're probably right, she's likely awake, I think I can disregard the rules this once. But don't you dare tell anybody."

"My lips are sealed."

The nurse left and I sank gloomily into my pillow. Sure, I was relieved that my mother would find out right away that I was okay, but I was still miserable about Samantha. It wasn't that I thought that someday I would actually have a shot at her romantically, I knew that was just a pipe dream, but I treasured our friendship – a friendship that was no doubt over. If only I hadn't been so out of it. It wasn't the first time her amazing physique had caused an erection and she was my primary masturbation fantasy, but I had always been successful in keeping those lurid facts from her.

Now she would know. Every time she saw me looking at her she would suspect I was imagining her in some depraved daydream. I knew her; she never spoke about any of the guys she dated, but I knew how she felt about people who only saw women as objects of desire. Now I was among those deserving of her derision. I wondered if she had told my mom what a sick asshole I was.

Eventually, I managed to doze, on and off, until the doctor came in and checked me over. By that time I was practically starving and he told the nurse I could have breakfast. They were wheeling my roommate out for some tests as an orderly brought my food and I was just finishing it when the door opened again and my mother entered – with Samantha in tow.

Mom hugged me, told me how worried she had been and chastised me for not coming to her right away with my injuries.

"At least Samantha showed some sense. I can't imagine what would have happened if you had fainted up in your room all by yourself. You can't be too careful with concussions." While she talked I had an image of her pacing the house all night – and for some reason I had again included Samantha with her in that image. She hadn't said anything yet, she just stood back a bit looking a little uncomfortable.

"Uhm ... Mom, could you see if you can get me some more juice?" I really needed to talk to Samantha.

My mother nodded and gave me a smile. With a pat to Samantha's shoulder she walked past her and out into the hall.

"I'm sorry." We both said at the same time.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked her. "I'm the one who ... well ... has something to apologize for."

She came over and sat on the edge of my bed. She was wearing baggy jeans and a large sweatshirt.

"I'm not mad at you." She reached out and put her hand on top of mine. "It wasn't really your fault, you were pretty out of it." She stopped and sighed. "I know what I look like, but I never really think much about it. As for how you reacted, well, I've always felt so comfortable around you that I never stopped to think about how my body might affect you."

"Sam, you don't..." I started to say but she interrupted me.

"Shit ... I must sound so conceited. But it's not that. It's just ... well ... Jake, I am so sorry that I never stopped to consider your feelings. It must have seemed like I was flaunting myself in front of you and that just wasn't fair. And the way I was dressed yesterday ... you're a healthy normal, straight male and it was just inconsiderate of me to parade around like that in front of you. From now on I promise to cover up more." She looked like she was trying to think of something more to say. "Can we still be friends?"

While she was talking I had gotten a sense of what she felt. She cared about me deeply. Surprisingly, she valued our friendship just as much as I did and didn't want it to end. She also felt very guilty about not considering how I may have been reacting to her appearance. Since she had no thoughts about me in any sort of sexual way it hadn't dawned on her that I might feel differently. I also knew, from her words, that she thought that the incident in the kitchen was just a physical reaction due primarily to how woozy I had been. The idea of an ongoing sexual attraction between us just didn't occur to her. It hurt to know that even though she loved me in a way, she had no physical attraction to me in any way, whatsoever.

But how in the hell did I know all this? I knew it wasn't just my own thoughts. While she talked it almost as though there were invisible subtitles in my mind or another voice – her voice – talking simultaneously. I was a bit lost in thought when I realized that she was waiting for an answer.

"Of course we can still be friends. I'm ... I guess I'm just embarrassed."

"No need to be – lets just both forget it." Her voice was lighter and she smiled as she gave me a short hug.

They kept me in the hospital for three more days for observation. Mom, Samantha and usually Mike came every day.

Thad and the assholes had given Mike a ride home – not. Just as I thought, they had taken him out into the middle of the nearby State Forest. He hadn't gotten home until after ten that night. He didn't find out I was in the hospital until the next afternoon when the cops talked to him. Samantha had told them who beat me up and Mike's statement corroborated that, but when the cops talked to me I told them I didn't want to press charges. They tried to convince me otherwise but since I was eighteen it was up to me. Mom wasn't happy but all it would have gotten me was more beatings from the other jocks and Thad probably would have just gotten off with a slap on the wrist. Hometown football heroes didn't go to jail, not for punching out some nameless nerd.

My room wasn't full of people all the time so I had plenty of time to think. After my 'talk' with Samantha I had to reconsider how I had known the nurse was coming in for a routine bed check and that she had to argue with my mother to get her to leave that first night. It was almost as though I was somehow tapping into the thoughts of other people. It seemed crazy at first but there was no other explanation that I could come up with, no matter how much I thought about it.

Truth be known I found the prospect a bit exhilarating. To know what other people thought. To be able to pick information from the brains of anyone I chose. Nobody could lie to me, nobody could cheat me, and nobody could ever take advantage of me again. But there were aspects that were also a bit disappointing. The primary problem was that it was intermittent and random. I tried to practice but it was hard to know just how to turn it on. I had some limited success and learned from it, but true control stayed a bit elusive. Thanks to the ethnicity of my roommate, I discovered that it didn't matter what language the other person spoke or thought in so I concluded that I must be able to pick up concepts or emotions rather than actually 'reading' the words from the subjects minds.

The real exciting revelation came the morning of my last day when the older nurse who had first found me awake returned. I hadn't seen her since that day and as soon as she walked in I remembered how she had at first refused to call my mother but had changed her mind for no apparent reason. I had been so focused on trying to read minds that I hadn't considered that it may be a two way street. It was the only explanation so I experimented a bit and tried to direct the actions of a few people. It hadn't worked but it was a bit hectic that day so I was determined to be patient and try again. Now that I knew this ability was possible, I really wanted to learn how to control it. With it, I might be able make Samantha feel about me the same way I felt about her. I would have to be careful though, I couldn't risk screwing it, or her, up.