Tate Summers

"Look man, whatever fucking power that is, is insane. But I had no fucking clue you existed prior to this." Max hated lying, but he had to remain undercover. "Maybe that….superpower made that ego inflate a little, huh? Along with the steroid muscles." he scoffed. "Obviously you have some kind of paranoia so I’ll just leave you alone. They have pills for that, you know that?"

Tate rolled his eyes. "There's this thing called compulsive lying. You can get therapy for it, you know that?" His patience was wearing thin and it was clear that this guy just wasn't gonna tell him the truth.

Max heard the other’s comment and his eyebrows raised slightly, impressed with the other’s ability. “Wow, that’s quite a talent you got there. Unless I just hallucinated that. Then in that case you’ll have no idea what I’m talking about.”

"So you know." Tate stated mentally. "Wanna start answering my question any time soon or are you just going to keep denying it like the previous time."

"Excuse me?" Max knew that Tate had read his mind, but he had trained for things like this. He shut his brain off for the moment, not having any thoughts related to his research. "No, no, entertain me, Tate. What exactly am I not telling you about? We just met."

"I know you know who I am. Stop acting like you don't know what I'm talking about." Tate mentally said to the other. It wasn't the safest move that he's made, but there was something fishy about this guy.

Max furrowed his brows, his patience thinning with the man. “What the fuck is your problem? Why are you stereotyping every guy that goes to Harvard like we’re all douchebags? You’re the one who just pretty much insinuated that I wasn’t smart or old enough to get a job in Forensics, and then when I tell you I am, you act like it’s a sin.” Max rolled his eyes, “I guess it is true what they say about guys with muscles — complete jealous assholes.”

"My problem is that you aren't telling me the entire truth." Tate snapped. He knew he probably shouldn't have told the other that, but it slipped out somehow. Tate was sure Max knows who he was. "Just forget about it." Tate said as he turned around and started to walk away.

"I’m twenty three and I graduated from Harvard." he furrowed his brows slightly, a bit insulted.

Tate scoffed slightly. "Okay, Harvard man."

"Yeah. I like to observe the world and all. I work in forensics and it’s nice to see the stuff that could potentially become a crime scene."

"Alright." Tate said with a slightly raised eyebrow. "You seem a little young to work in forensics. Do you have an internship in that field or something?"

"Well, maybe we could hang out a bit. It’s always nice to have some company." Max offered a bit awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess."

I love reading. Kind of is a nice escape from the real life.

Lucky for you then. I never have time for myself anymore. Real life just kinda blocked all of the exits for me.

Max and Ethan never really did have a close relationship, but he knew how his cousin looked on television. “Uh, yeah, it’s been all over those entertainment and sports shows. People are devastated since it seems like he’d never lose, y’know?” Max as trying to be friendly with Tate, since it seemed like whatever Tate heard had creeped him out. “Oh, yeah. If you need to. I was just taking a stroll out…”

"Oh. I figured you had somewhere to get to and I was holding you back or something. I'm just out for some fresh air too."

"Yeah, you watch any of his games? I know he looks like kind of an asshole, but that’s been his whole life. Not that it excuses anything. He dislocated his shoulder anyway, so he won’t be playing." Max shrugged. His cousin was supposed to arrive at the Academy soon, and he figured he had not idea that Max was in town. "Tate, right." Max nodded and shook his hand.

"A few. I wouldn't say I'm a huge fan though." He shrugged. "Well, that's going to be a real disappointment to his fans." Tate was sure the guy would probably find a way to still be an asshole, even with a dislocated shoulder. "Well, I should probably get going then..."

"I’ve been told I have a familiar face. Some people confuse me with my cousin sometimes. Ethan Romero, the football player?" He tried to reassure Tate with a nod. Max attempted to tune out his thoughts about the witch in front of him and what he knew, instead focusing in on what the other was about to say. "Yeah, Max. Nice to meet you."

"Ethan Romero?" Tate never did like that guy. He was too arrogant and if there was something Tate hated a lot it was just that. He didn't say anything further, if this guy was related to Ethan, bad mouthing the guy is probably not going to be that great of an idea. "I'm Tate." He said as he held out a hand in offer of a handshake.

Max’s more relaxed state turned into a bit of confusion, until he remembered that Tate was telepathic. He could read every thought he was having. “Uhm, no?” Max tilted his head. His answer was technically correct, because Tate didn’t know him, he just knew everything about Tate. 

"Alright..." Tate was slightly confused. How did he hear that from this kid, if the two of them didn't know each other. He certainly never introduced himself to this kid yet, he'd remember that if he had. Maybe someone just told this kid about him or something. Who knows how this sort of information spreads around now, specially in college. "So, you got a name?"

I dealt. I read a lot.

Reading, huh? I've been sick of reading ever since AP Lit. and Comp. in high school. [He chuckled]

Max examined him for a moment, remember for a moment who exactly he was. Of course, Tate wouldn’t know him. None of the witches would. “No, really, it’s my fault. I’m a klutz sometimes.”

A quick second of Max's thoughts poured out into Tate's mind, but quickly he shut it off. He never prided himself in delving into people's personal thoughts. "Do I know you?" Tate asked, due to the quick second that he read the other's mind. The statement sounded innocent, just so the fact that he has powers wasn't given away.

"I didn’t see you, sorry."

"That's fine. I wasn't paying attention either."

Oh, that’s really odd. It must have been hard to deal with.

"It was, but I think being stuck in one place must have been harder to deal with."