I hate that girl.
We don’t stand any closer than usual, but suddenly I’m aware that Leo’s arm isn’t around my shoulders, our arms aren’t linked.
It had always seemed natural and god knows this space doesn’t
But is it something more than friendship?
“Beanbag!” He cries and goes to launch himself on it.
They are usually the first seats to be taken but at seven at night, most people are watching TV in their room or showering.
I sigh and step back as he jumps on the orange bag and a split rips down the side. Little plastic balls fly into the air.
“Ah shit.” He breathes, jumping to a stand.
“What did you expect?”
“I didn’t think that far.”
“Duh, you’re a boy. You have no forward planning.”
“No, they’ve done studies actually.”
“Look.” I point at an abandoned computer. “There’s an unscrambled one.”
The Scramblers typically enjoy technology which usually means that they lock the computers or freeze it on a stupid image. Normally, there is one or two that they’ve left alone or a teacher has sorted out, but they’re usually occupied.
We are the only two in here.
I run over to it and log in before I even sit down. Leo holds the back of my chair and leans forward to look over my head.
The usual pop up, well, pops up. Reminder, you are being monitored, you are unable to log onto social media websites or leave messages. Act responsibly or you will be locked out. Then the St. Bart’s homepage comes up with the school building taken from an upward angle. It looks imposing, intimidating. Dark arches and stone exterior, the thick gates and concrete wall loom behind the camera man somewhere.
I click onto Google and start typing.
“Hey, what are you doing? I want go on games.”
“Didn’t you hear the suit this morning? There’s news about us in the papers.”
I click on the first page that comes up.
St. Bart’s – The school for gifted individuals.
We have recently received reliable information from St. Bart’s notoriously well armed, high walls, that grades, family and even money have no effect on getting a place at the prestigious St. Bartholomew’s
Apparently things are “not as they seem.” The gifted students inside are not being educated and trained to be our future politicians and brain surgeons. No these kids will be our future spies and body guards as well as occupying other important government jobs.
So we ask, just how are these kids gifted? What makes them better equipped to protect our world leaders? And is St. Bart’s all that it seems?
My blood runs cold.
This is the latest, a quick look through the prior articles reveal more questions then information.
But this one… How long before they begin to work it out?
“Holy shit.” Leo breathes. “Who do you reckon it is?”
“The Mole? No idea. Maybe someone fairly new? With all this top secret information they’re suddenly bombarded with, maybe they felt they just had to tell someone? And who better than someone who’ll give you money for such a thing?”
“But how would they tell anyone? Before Alex, the latest new person in our year was Ryan, and he’s a pretty strong Upper. He has too much to lose.”
An idea clicks.
“You’re right! They would most likely be a Lower, probably a Halfer. Someone who only has secretary work to look forward to.”
“There aren’t many of them. Maybe twenty in total? The only ones our age are Becky the Aura Seer and Phoebe the Dreamer.”
“Hmm.” Neither of them seemed the type. Both quiet, typical Lowers, head down, stay out of the way. “And Phoebe would probably be wanted, she maybe infrequent but they’ll want a Dreamer, even if it’s just to know when to put the washing out. And I guess a Seer would be useful for meetings.” I sigh. “We need someone in our year so they have the opportunity to leave school at the weekends, a Lower or a Halfer but with a useless Quirk like… a Whisperer.”
Whisperers could tell you what an animal or plant wanted or needed by touching them. Pretty cool but otherwise useless for the government. Unless you happened to have a particularly green thumbed, animal loving Leader at the time.
“The only Whisperer I know about is a year eight and she’s kinda….floaty.” He waves his arms around and dances like a fairy.
I laugh and sigh.
“We need Roan.”
“Yeah.” He stops dancing and sits cross legged on the floor in front of me. “The Brain has his uses.”
“What do you reckon they’re doing?” I whisper, eyeing the beaded curtains that separate the Snug from the hallway.
He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Ugh, ew! That is disgusting, she’s only just started noticing him again.”
“Maybe they’re celebrating.”
I laugh but can’t unnotice the difference between us since Rin’s comment.
God do I hate that girl.