They’ve had this connection for nearly as long as they’ve known each other; Patrick doesn’t know why it happened, what made it so that out of all the people in the world, it’s Johnny and only Johnny whose thoughts he can read, but there it is. One day it was just Patrick in his head, and the next, he’d woken up with the background awareness of Johnny in there too, and a panicked, thumping voice saying, Oh, shit. You too?

“So, you Skype your boy a lot or something?” Kaner asks when he’s been there for a little while and heard Segs talk about Tyler enough to catch a clue. There’s something odd in his voice--a little plaintive, like he’s asking, so how do you deal with it? Segs hesitates, shrugs. Says, “Yeah, something like that.” Inside his head, Tyler laughs.

Three times Sandry handled things her foster-siblings’ way, and one time she went with hers.

Jess’s dad is the one who first put her on a broom, so long ago she can barely remember it. She must have loved it then, she knows, because she’s loved it every time since. There’s nothing like the feel of the wind screaming in your ears when you’re up in the air, you and your broom slicing the sky like a dart, the chill slapping color into your cheeks. Nothing like it.