Mindsiege (Mindspeak #2)(63)



I was working with Mr. Multiple Personalities. I could barely keep up.

“To start with, instead of erecting walls the way you do to keep Jack out, you need to form pockets.”

“Pockets?”

“Yes. We all compartmentalize our thoughts and fears.” Jonas motioned me closer. He bent over and grabbed the training gloves, sliding them back on. “Imagine someone who has just lost someone close to them.”

Easy enough. I knew how that felt.

“Now, while this person might be grieving a terrible loss, they’re able to place that despair within a pocket inside their mind and heart. This is how they’re able to continue in their everyday life without being paralyzed by sadness.”

I remembered how quickly I was able to return to school after Dad died, despite overwhelming grief. “Okay, I’ll buy that.”

“Take a look inside your own mind. Can you imagine different pockets there? Maybe one for love. One for the deep affection you feel for Danielle. Another for whatever thoughts you have when you think of Briana. One for grief.”

“Yes,” I whispered. I was completely buying into this. I could see different imaginary compartments forming in my head.

He lifted his hand and waved me forward. “I want you to practice a series of uppercuts, side kicks, hooks, front kicks, and crosses. Any pattern you wish, but at the same time, imagine placing different thoughts and feelings inside these pockets.”

I began a sequence of punches and kicks, then I did exactly what Jonas ordered. I placed my love for Gram inside one pocket—a feeling that filled me with warmth in one moment and a longing to see her that tore my heart apart in the next. I didn’t like anyone knowing that vulnerability.

Jonas moved to the side. I switched back to slamming my fist then my foot into his gloved hands. “Now, think about Briana. The thoughts you have of her are often ones you’d rather her not know, right?”

“I suppose that’s accurate.” I remembered some of the cruel things she’d done to me, the anger I’d felt, the jealousy of seeing her flirt with Jack when he first arrived at Wellington. I stuffed my own unkind thoughts inside a pocket in my mind. Jonas was right. I didn’t want Briana to know these thoughts, mainly because I wasn’t cruel. She made me angry, but I didn’t find cutting her down worth how that might make her feel.

“Next, think of Jack. I’m sure you think of him in ways you don’t want him… or anyone else… to know.”

Fire flared across my cheeks. I did have some pretty powerful thoughts where Jack was concerned. I went to work on them, stuffing them quickly inside a too-small pocket, like a teenager overstuffing her dresser drawers, unable to keep clothes or socks inside while trying to close the drawers.

“Nice. Not much leaked out while you did that. Now think of me.”

I stopped punching and stared at Jonas. I was sure my mouth hung agape. Jonas raised a brow and stood straighter. Immediately, I snapped out of my trance and closed my mouth. I transformed my face and attempted to swallow all expression.

Jonas’s lips tilted up. “Not the reaction I expected, but not completely disappointing.”

I rolled my eyes, and kicked his right hand hard. “You surprised me, that’s all.” My mind filling up by this point, I pocketed the many conflicted thoughts I had of Jonas—fear of what I still didn’t know about him, admiration for turning his back on his mother, confusion, curiosity. Was he my friend or my enemy?

“You’re so easy to read, Lexi.”

I stopped and turned away from him. This was never going to work, though hiding my face was not going to keep this guy out of my head. Frustration and anger at my own inadequacy invaded my thoughts, and I added those to the many compartments I wished would protect my mind from siege.

Seth had asked me what I wanted from The Program. My first answer, had I concentrated only on myself, would have been to learn complete control over my mind at all times. I wanted control of every aspect of my future and how my abilities would be used—if they’d be used. At the same time, the idea that my own thoughts and actions were not safe inside my own mind invoked the desire to run. To escape this life and not look back.

This wasn’t just about me anymore. I needed The Program to teach me not only how to help myself, but to help others affected by Dad’s, Dr. DeWeese’s, and Sandra’s years-ago experimentation into human cloning.

How could I help others, though, if I couldn’t keep this one person—this one confusing boy—from reading my every private thought, desire, or dream?

Jonas’s hand touched my shoulder. “Lexi,” he whispered.

I spun around. “Please don’t touch me.” I was afraid a single touch would reveal every secret, every insecurity, every fear I ever had.

He dropped his hand to his side. Both gloves gone, he flexed his fingers wide. “What I meant, Lexi, is that I read your emotions all over your face. And I read your body language as you turned away from me, but…”

I wrung my hands. I was never able to hide my feelings well, especially the strong emotions that grief, confusion, and Jonas invoked. “But what?” I asked weakly.

“But I couldn’t read your mind—your specific thoughts.” He crooked a finger under my chin and lifted. “Congratulations. You successfully pocketed most of your thoughts. I only heard a couple about Briana, probably because the two of you have such a long past filled with so many powerful emotions. A few more about Jack, which isn’t surprising given how intense the two of you are.” Jonas cocked his head, eyeing me like he wanted to figure something out. “And I didn’t hear anything about me, although your reaction has me quite curious.” He smiled.

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