When Alex halted a first sentence, Alice noticed the engagement of many facial muscles — a combination meaning anger. Again, she caught another detail — 'golden boy.' It seemed a wierd time to use such a specific idiom in such a way, but Alice, better at noticing things than understanding them, let her curiosity pass these details by. Alice forgot the oddities in Alex's words when she heard about what led Alex to be at the school. Alice supposed that it was true that being a psychic could be distressing to people who had many things to keep private. Did Alex discover something dark in her parents' heads? Disgust? Was it so bad that their daughter could command the mind?
Alice looked at Alex, concerned. "That seems s'cold of them, though. I mean, it's not like y'grew antennae and wings and buzzed ev'rywhere. Was it so bad that y'could hear thoughts?" In a way, Alice knew the answer. Even the smallest thing could mean the difference between alienation and acceptance with parents, as was her experience. Sometimes, not being something, not having something was enough. "Sorry if I seem t'be probing and all. Sorry that you're here because the bad stuff and all." Alice smiled reassuringly, as if promising to keep her questions to herself, and turned to her dresser to draw out her night-things.
Alice looked at Alex, concerned. "That seems s'cold of them, though. I mean, it's not like y'grew antennae and wings and buzzed ev'rywhere. Was it so bad that y'could hear thoughts?" In a way, Alice knew the answer. Even the smallest thing could mean the difference between alienation and acceptance with parents, as was her experience. Sometimes, not being something, not having something was enough. "Sorry if I seem t'be probing and all. Sorry that you're here because the bad stuff and all." Alice smiled reassuringly, as if promising to keep her questions to herself, and turned to her dresser to draw out her night-things.