Now You See Me-Gifted 5

  ‘I don’t know.’ Tracey sighed. ‘I guess I can’t help thinking there’s something good in Amanda.’ The expressions of disbelief on her friends’ faces remained intact, so she changed the subject.

  She turned to Emily. ‘Got any predictions to make?’

  ‘About what?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Emily said. ‘I have to be thinking about something in particular.’

  ‘Think about me,’ Jenna suggested. ‘Is anything interesting going to happen to me this week?’

  Obediently, Emily looked at Jenna in that peculiarly dreamy way she took on when she was trying to get an image of the future. Her eyes glazed over.

  ‘Well?’ Jenna asked impatiently. ‘Can you see me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Emily’s brow furrowed. ‘With . . . with a knife in your hand.’

  ‘Good grief!’ Tracey exclaimed. ‘Is she pointing it at someone?’

  ‘No. She’s just holding a knife.’

  Tracey looked at Jenna worriedly. After all, her friend did have a reputation. When she’d first come to Meadowbrook straight from some sort of place for delinquent teens, she’d been observed with trepidation by students and teachers.

  Jenna just shrugged. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘It does?’ Emily asked. Now she was looking nervously at Jenna too.

  Jenna nodded. ‘I’m fixing dinner tonight, and I’m making tuna salad. I’ll be chopping onions, celery, carrots . . . yeah, I guess I’ll be holding a knife for at least half an hour.’

  Tracey immediately felt guilty for having even considered that Jenna might be planning to do something criminal with a knife. Jenna didn’t hang with gangs any more, and even though she retained her tough-girl demeanour, she hadn’t been in any serious trouble. Tracey was absolutely, positively, no-doubt-about-it certain that Jenna had completely reformed.

  Still, it was reassuring to know that Jenna’s knife would be used for strictly non-violent purposes.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WHAT A DIFFERENCE a few months could make, Jenna thought as she strolled into Room 209 on Monday afternoon. She remembered the first day she’d entered this classroom, and how angry, depressed and scared she’d been. She’d just been let out of that place she’d been sent to after her arrest for drug possession. Harmony House . . . a fancy name for what was really a jail for teenagers. She’d been taken away from home and forced to spend three months with thieves, gang leaders, addicts . . . when her only real crime had been hanging with people like that.

  Not that home was such a great place to be either. Her mother was rarely there, and when she was at home, she was drunk. Welfare cheques were spent on booze and who-knew-what-else, and Jenna could recall many nights when she went to bed hungry.

  So release from Harmony House wasn’t any great relief. She went back to Brookside Towers, the nasty low-income housing development she’d been living in with her mother for two years. Her mother was still drinking, still partying. The apartment was a mess, her life was a mess, and she had to keep that fact a secret from the social workers or she’d be sent into foster care.

  By order of the judge, Jenna had been transferred to this school, Meadowbrook, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had to report to a school counsellor every week. But the counsellor, Mr Gonzalez, wasn’t such a bad guy. He didn’t know about Jenna’s ability to read minds, but he must have suspected there was something uniquely odd about her because he sent her to see Madame. Jenna had been furious – she’d been branded as a ‘problem’ again and now she had to attend a ‘special’ class with other problem students.

  So the first time she entered this classroom, she was in a very bad mood. The so-called ‘Gifted’ class could only make her already wretched life even worse.

  But then things began to turn around for her. Aspects of her life started to improve. Her mother went into a rehab programme, and now she’d been sober for over a month. She’d got a job too.

  Even her home was better. The residents of Brookside Towers were demanding long-overdue improvements to the estate, and the local government was actually responding.

  And the Gifted class turned out to be nothing like what she’d expected. Her classmates weren’t ‘problems’ – not in the traditional sense. They had ‘gifts’ too. And despite her usual efforts to remain aloof and disagreeable, Jenna found herself fitting in – and even making friends. It wasn’t in Jenna’s nature to show her feelings or admit them to anyone, but deep in her heart she knew she was as close to being happy as she’d ever been.

  Not that she was great friends with all her classmates. She glanced at Martin Cooper, who sat over by the windows. He was looking at her right now with fear in his eyes.

  ‘You’d better not be reading my mind,’ he said to her in an accusing tone.

  Jenna shook her head wearily. The little wimp couldn’t even figure out how to block her. He was the eternal victim, always expecting to be picked on and bullied. His only satisfaction came when he was teased so much that his gift emerged – and an incredible physical strength made him capable of causing serious damage.

  ‘Out of my way,’ barked a voice behind her. Jenna stayed right where she was, knowing full well that Charles Temple could easily manoeuvre his wheelchair around her. She wondered if being unable to walk was the reason he could be so aggressive and argumentative. She assumed it was the source of his gift – telekinesis – the ability to make things move with his mind.

  Sarah Miller was already in her seat, of course. Jenna always thought of her as ‘Little Miss Too Good to Be True’. How else could she criticize someone who was always sweet? It was still hard to believe that Sarah had potentially the most dangerous gift of all of them – the ability to make people do anything she wanted them to do. Not that Jenna had seen much evidence of this amazing gift. For some mysterious reason, Sarah didn’t want to use her talent.

  Ken Preston looked up and caught her eye. ‘Hi,’ he said. The greeting wasn’t expressed very warmly, but Jenna was just pleased to be acknowledged by him. She and Ken had experienced some conflicts recently, and she didn’t want him to hold anything against her. He wasn’t a close friend like Emily or Tracey, but she thought he was an OK kind of guy. Also, since that seance experience, he was pretty down on Amanda, and any enemy of Amanda’s was a friend of hers.

  She plunked down in the seat next to him. ‘Hi. What’s up?’

  ‘Not much,’ he said. ‘You?’

  ‘Nothing special,’ she replied. They both fell silent. Jenna tried to think of a way to keep the conversation going.

  ‘Heard from anyone interesting lately?’ she ventured.

  He seemed to be considering the question. ‘Well, there’s this lady who was watching some series on TV before she died, and she’s always asking me to find out what’s happening on it. So I started watching the show, but it’s really stupid and I hate it.’

  Jenna shrugged. In her opinion, Ken was just too nice to the dead people who communicated with him. Of all the gifts, Ken’s was the one she’d least want to have. ‘So tell her to leave you alone.’ She turned away from him, and pretended to gasp. ‘Hey, what’s Carter doing?’

  Ken’s eyes widened and he turned swiftly to look at the boy who sat at the back of the room. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Jenna grinned. ‘Gotcha.’

  Carter Street was the mystery of the Gifted class, a mute, blank-eyed boy who seemed to be more of a robot than a human being. He did what he was told to do, but he never responded or took any initiative, and his expression was always the same – empty. No one knew his real name or where he came from, or if he had any kind of gift at all. Jenna wasn’t even sure what he was doing in the class.

  Emily and Tracey came in, but Jenna couldn’t say anything more than ‘Hi’ because Madame was right behind them, and the bell rang. Madame took her usual place behind her desk at the front of the room, and she gave them her usual smile of greeting –
but the smile looked a little tense to Jenna.

  Her eyes scanned the room. ‘Where’s Amanda?’ she asked.

  Nobody responded, and Madame frowned. She was big on punctuality.

  ‘I’ve got a task for you today,’ the teacher continued. As usual, there were a couple of groans, and as usual, Madame ignored them. ‘I want each of you to make a list of all the people who know about your gift. Include parents, and any other family member who is aware of what you can do.’

  ‘Why?’ Ken wanted to know.

  Jenna half-expected Madame to snap something like ‘because I told you to’ – but that was how other teachers would respond to a question like that. Madame wasn’t like other teachers.

  She seemed to be taking her time, and considering her answer carefully. Finally, she spoke.

  ‘It’s important for all of us to be aware of who knows about the gifts. You all know by now that there are people out there who want to use you, to utilize your gifts for their own purposes. We have to keep track of all potential . . . potential problems.’

  ‘But you said we have to include our parents,’ Sarah said. ‘You don’t think they’d want to use us, do you?’

  ‘Not intentionally,’ Madame said quickly. ‘But they might slip and reveal something to someone who – who shouldn’t know about you. They may already have done so.’

  ‘Why do you think that?’ Tracey asked.

  ‘Because you’ve all had experiences which lead me to believe that you’ve been observed. That you’re being watched.’

  Martin went completely white. ‘You mean, someone’s spying on us?’ He looked around nervously. ‘Right now?’

  At that moment, the door opened and Amanda walked in. Actually, sauntered in would be a better way of describing her entrance, Jenna thought. Most students entering a classroom late would shuffle in with head down. Amanda was practically strutting.

  Madame looked at her, and raised her eyebrows. Amanda smiled brightly, and didn’t even bother to apologize for her tardiness.

  ‘I have an excuse,’ she proclaimed, and handed a folded piece of paper to the teacher.

  Madame opened the note, and looked at it.

  ‘I can’t read this signature,’ she said.

  ‘It’s from Mr Jackson,’ Amanda said. ‘I’ve been working in the office. You see, I’m his new student assistant.’

  Jenna couldn’t blame the cool, calm and collected teacher for becoming momentarily speechless. This was pretty shocking news, considering who it was coming from. Jenna knew of other students who worked as assistants – in the cafeteria, the gymnasium, and the library. But Amanda Beeson was the last person in the world who would be expected to take a job like that. Students did jobs like this to get extra-curricular credits, or build up experiences that would make it easier to get part-time paying jobs when they were in high school. Amanda was only interested in social extra-curricular activities, and it was unlikely that she’d be thinking about working for money when she got into high school. Her parents were either rich or very generous. In any case, Amanda certainly didn’t need to work for spending money.

  She assumed Madame was thinking the same thing. ‘Why have you suddenly decided to become a student assistant, Amanda?’

  Clearly, Amanda hadn’t anticipated the question. ‘I . . . I just think it’s good to learn office skills,’ she finally replied. ‘I mean, you never know when you might, um, need them.’

  Madame eyed her curiously, but she didn’t press the issue. ‘Take a seat, Amanda,’ Madame said. ‘And please make it clear to Mr Jackson that I expect my students to be here on time.’

  Jenna and Emily exchanged looks. They knew why Madame sounded a little huffy about Mr Jackson. She hadn’t been too thrilled when the principal foisted a student teacher on the class. Especially when that student teacher turned out to have aspirations other than teaching . . .

  Madame repeated the day’s assignment to Amanda, and everyone went to work on their lists. Jenna’s was pretty short. There was her mother. She was pretty sure her mother wouldn’t have told anyone else, even if she was drunk. And then there was that man who called himself Stuart Kelley and claimed to be the father she’d never known. He could have told other people, she supposed. But how many people would believe someone who claimed he knew a mind-reader? That was the benefit of having the kind of weird talents they all had – people didn’t believe their gifts were possible.

  She added names she was pretty sure were on everyone’s list – the people who had tried to force some of her classmates to rob banks for them. Clare, and those two men who’d been with her. Serena, the student teacher, of course. But that was about it. She’d never told any of the cops, or social workers, or judges she’d encountered in her brief career as a juvenile delinquent. Or any of the foster families she’d been forced to live with back when her mother went on one of her binges.

  Madame collected the lists, and they spent the rest of the class time discussing the names on them.

  ‘Charles, you have two brothers in high school,’ Madame noted. ‘Do you think that they might talk about you with their friends?’

  ‘No,’ Charles said. ‘They’re ashamed of me.’

  Madame looked at him doubtfully, but she didn’t pursue the subject. ‘I see that all of you put Ms Hancock on your lists,’ she commented.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Jenna protested. ‘Who’s Ms Hancock?’

  ‘Serena, the student teacher,’ Sarah reminded her.

  ‘Oh, OK, I forgot her last name. If it is her real last name.’

  ‘You shouldn’t forget anything about that woman,’ Madame warned her. ‘She’s dangerous. She learned about your gifts when she was here. And she utilized that knowledge to get Ken involved in that seance scam.’

  Jenna didn’t miss the way Ken shot a dark look at Amanda before responding to Madame’s comment.

  ‘There’s something I still don’t understand about that,’ he said. ‘I know she was the one who invited me to the seance. But what I can’t figure out is how she got the invitation into my locker. We’ve got pretty tight security here. It’s not like someone can just walk into the school and put notes in lockers.’

  ‘Maybe she got someone to do it for her,’ Emily suggested. ‘Someone who could get past security. Someone who actually belongs here.’

  A silence fell over the room, and Jenna assumed her classmates had the same thought running through their minds as she had. The bell rang.

  ‘We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow,’ Madame said, and dismissed them.

  Outside the classroom, Jenna paused at the water fountain. Emily and Tracey waited for her, and Ken joined them.

  ‘What do you think?’ Ken asked the girls. ‘Is there a spy at Meadowbrook?’

  Emily considered this. ‘It seems to me that if one student knew about us, everyone would know about us. You know how rumours spread around here.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Jenna remarked. ‘Not if that student wanted to do something more important than just spread gossip about us. Like, pass information to our enemies.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Ken said. ‘If someone is working with them, she wouldn’t want other kids at school to know what she knows.’

  Tracey frowned. ‘Why do you think it’s a “she”?’

  Ken shrugged, and didn’t answer, but Jenna read his mind before he could block her. ‘You think Amanda’s the spy.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Tracey said. ‘Why would Amanda do something like that?’

  ‘Maybe because she’s a terrible person?’ Jenna suggested. ‘Maybe because she’s a snob who thinks she’s better than the rest of us?’

  ‘It’s gotta be someone in our class,’ Ken said. ‘No one else could know so much about us.’

  Tracey shook her head. ‘You think we’re the only ones who know where your locker is, Ken? I’ve seen you hang around there with your pals. Maybe one of them is working with Serena and put her note in your locker.’

  ‘But does any
one else know that Jenna’s father disappeared before she was born?’ Ken asked.

  Jenna shook her head. ‘So that guy who said he was my father had to learn about me from someone in our class.’

  ‘That still doesn’t mean the spy is Amanda,’ Tracey pointed out.

  ‘She knew Serena was posing as Cassandra-the-medium and she didn’t tell anyone,’ Ken offered.

  ‘Maybe she was afraid of Serena,’ Tracey murmured.

  ‘She’s working in the office,’ Emily pointed out.

  ‘So what?’ Tracey asked.

  Jenna answered for Emily. ‘So she has access to all kinds of personal information about us. I’ll bet that’s why she took the job, so she could pass it on.’

  Tracey groaned. ‘Come on, you guys, you’re just ganging up on Amanda because you don’t like her. OK, maybe someone in our class is a spy. Let’s think of who else it could be.’

  Emily spoke. ‘Martin?’

  Ken looked at her in disbelief. ‘That weasel? He wouldn’t have the guts.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Tracey said. ‘All that “scaredy-cat” stuff could be a big act. He’s totally self-centred. Remember when we were kidnapped? He was completely willing to go along with those guys. I think he’d sell us out to anyone who paid attention to him.’

  ‘I guess you’ve got a point,’ Jenna said grudgingly.

  But Ken was more stubborn. ‘I still think it’s Amanda.’

  ‘Whoever it is, we need to know,’ Jenna declared. ‘So what are we going to do?’ She looked at Tracey. ‘You got any ideas?’

  Tracey nodded. ‘I think I’m going to do a little spying myself.’ She grinned at the others briefly, and then scrunched her face, as if she was concentrating very hard.

  And before their very eyes, she disappeared.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SOMETIMES IT WORKED, JUST like that. Would she ever figure out the logic of her gift? Tracey couldn’t take time to think about it now, she had to move. Fortunately, Martin was a slow walker, and she caught up with him just outside the school. Of course, he had no idea she was walking alongside him. Tracey was pretty sure Martin hardly ever had anyone visible walking beside him never mind invisible.