It’s just like at the train station, Simon thought. He remembered standing there on the platform thinking how awful his brother was, when all of a sudden he heard this voice inside his head. It was weird shit, just as Tony had said, but it wasn’t, really. It was more like a close friend sitting down with you on a warm summer day, telling you how happy he was to know you. That’s what it was like. Kinda weird, but kinda nice.
It didn’t matter how it happened. Some things couldn’t be explained. Like why a boy of thirteen would have to swallow twelve cents in change and stand all night in a cold attic in his undershorts, when all he did was forget to pick up a pack of smokes. All he knew was that it had happened, to everyone at the station, to Tony and Arnie at the park, and it was happening now. What they had heard he didn’t know, but what he had heard yesterday had been simple and clear.
Don’t be like them, Sime.
That’s all it was. Just those words, nothing more, spoken by his closest friend. Aside from Arnie and Tony and Randy, Kay was the only real friend he had—the bestest friend, as Kelan would say—and he had taken those simple words to heart. While Arnie went after him (somehow Tony and Randy had been stuck on the platform, struggling as if they were walking underwater), he simply stood where he was. He had been pulling for his friend, and he remembered his relief when Kay got away.
Don’t be like them, Sime.
Good words. Warm and comforting, like a thick winter blanket. Yet these new ones, the ones he was hearing now, echoed with fear. They meant that Kay hadn’t gotten out—and that time was running out.
Three words. It was amazing how so little could say so much.
I … need … you.