Angel's Diary:

Dear diary,

I'm so glad I have someone to talk to now. It's too bad I can't read your mind. Then I would know what you wanted to be called. How about Kitty? It's cute—I can't imagine any diary that wouldn't want to be called Kitty. So that can be your name, for now. Kitty.

Dear Kitty,

The flock is driving me crazy! Not only are they rambunctious and quarrelsome, but their thoughts also plague me. Sometimes it's nice, and funny too. But most of the time it's depressing. Especially Max's thoughts—she can't hide them very well when she's tired, which is all the time. Sometimes Iggy's thoughts are hilarious, but all the teenagers in the flock have really weird angsty thoughts sometimes. Maybe if I show you their thoughts, you can help me sort out my head. Or at least give me someone to share everything with. Max tries to let me talk to her, but I really can't betray everyone's trust like that. It's hard to know everything and not be able to talk about it. I wonder if it's okay to share other's thoughts sometimes. Like when Fang asks about Max's thoughts. Hmm. It would be funny if I picked a day to share everybody's thoughts with everyone else—like a prank. Hmmm.

This morning during breakfast Max was thinking about chores she had to do around the house—her thoughts weren't very interesting, so I monitored Nudge instead. It was funny to see what was in her head, as opposed to what came out of her mouth. A lot of times, I can't control whose thoughts enter my head, so I have to focus on blocking people out, or letting certain people in. For instance, I was listening to what Nudge thought about the differences between tomatoes, ketchup, and spaghetti sauce, when Max suddenly thought really loud,

Oh shit! I forgot to switch the laundry this morning. She then looked at me apologetically, as if she knew I heard her swear, before quietly excusing herself from the table. You know, for all the fuss that Max makes about swearing, she does it in her head a lot. So does everyone else. I wonder if she knows this. For instance, as Fang watched her go, he thought,

Fuck. Was it something I did? (He mentally runs over his actions at breakfast) Nope. Is she okay? Would it be weird if I checked on her? Maybe she needs help. Or just needs to talk . . . Then he leaves the table in search of her. They could be so funny thinking about each other. I tried to cancel out everyone else's thoughts until I could only hear my own—but it only lasted for a minute or so. Over time it was getting better, but the only time I concentrated enough to really sustain peace of mind was when I controlled someone else's. Maybe that's the key—maybe I have to constantly control someone's mind! Though it takes energy . . .

Nudge was suddenly bursting with excitement about something, but she wanted the whole flock present before sharing her idea. She asked me to relay the message to Max and Fang, so I did.

Hey Max, and Fang! I projected loudly into their brains (I had to because they were both so involved in kissing each other that they wouldn't have noticed me.)

Yes? They both asked, with synchronized wishes to not be interrupted.

Nudge wants to play a game with the whole flock 'cause it's raining. I know you guys are busy, but she's really set on it, and the weather is making her feel worse. She also thinks you two are kind of abandoning the flock, and feels left out. So I would come down if I were you. Max and Fang both came down, but with one question.

Which game?

Monopoly.

Oy. They again thought in synch. I didn't really want to play monopoly myself, but I wanted to make Nudge happy, so . . .

During my internal conversation with Max and Fang, Nudge was animatedly explaining her idea to Iggy and Gazzy. They didn't seem thrilled. Gazzy said,

"I'm all for an afternoon of games with the whole flock, but I don't like monopoly." Nudge smirked.

"That's because you always lose." Iggy jumped in.

"I don't want to play, either. It's hard 'cause I can't see." Nudge frowned.

"Everyone knows it's just an excuse. You play better than the rest of us!" Now she was upset. I tried to cheer her up.

"What they're trying to say, Nudge, is that they want to play a different game, right?" They nodded doubtfully. Nudge brightened.

"If you don't want to play monopoly, what should we play?" She asked. Hmmm. I had an idea!

"How about charades?" Nudge mulled it over, and then smiled.

"Perfect."