Operation Tenley

“Are you okay? Do you need to take another nap or something? I guess I can prop you up against the wall. I’m going to need your hands, though.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just the gravity.”

  “Right.” Tenley said, busy rearranging the polish. “The gravity.”

  “Tenley, I’m a Fair One.” There, she’d said it. She looked out the window again, expecting the Fair Force to drop down and arrest her on the spot.

  “A fair one?”

  “You’d know us as Fairies. What we were before.”

  Tenley stopped fiddling with the nail supplies. “Okay, so wait. You’re saying you’re a fairy?”

  “Shh. I don’t want your mom to know. Or anyone else. No one else can know this or I can get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Where are your wings?” Tenley whispered.

  “We don’t use them anymore. Those were our ancestors.”

  “How do you get around?”

  “Propellers.”

  “Like a helicopter?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So where are those?”

  “I didn’t bring them. Or my tools, which don’t work here.”

  “On Earth?”

  “Right.”

  Tenley put her hands on her hips and considered. “Are you for realsies?”

  “Yes. For realsies. I swear.”

  “Fine.” Tenley grabbed her phone and hurried over to the window. “Is there like the mother ship out there?” she whispered, holding her phone up to the sky.

  Pennie hesitated. “I thought letting you use your element early was doing my job really well. But it’s not. It’s put you in danger.” Pennie stood and showed Tenley the stopwatch. 12:30:09. “This is counting down how much time we have left before something bad happens.”

  Tenley’s eyes narrowed. “A purple dinosaur? Really?”

  “It’s made to look like human technology.”

  “That’s insulting, I guess. What kind of something bad?”

  “There’s a certain someone trying to obliterate you, all of you.”

  “Principal Frimpy?”

  “This is serious, Tenley. You have until 8:00 a.m. tomorrow to sign an agreement saying you will stop using your wind element or you don’t even want to know what will happen to you.”

  “I’ll be disqualified?”

  “You’ll be … not here anymore.”

  “Okay. So let me get this straight. What you’re telling me is that if I don’t agree to stop making a little breeze once in a while, then tomorrow at 8:00 a.m., I’m going to be destroyed by Principal Frimpy?”

  “By someone much worse.”

  “Who?”

  “Mother Nature.”

  Tenley crossed her arms. “Okay, you see how that makes no sense, right? That’s not a real person.”

  “She’s not a person, but she is real. And she doesn’t want you or anyone else able to control the weather.”

  “Why isn’t she after you?”

  “Because I don’t have weather powers, Tenley. Only you do. Did. Soon.”

  Tenley sat down on her bed.

  “All you want me to do is tell you that I’ll stop with the wind? Fine. I’ll stop.”

  “And you need to sign this.” Pennie tapped on her temple.

  When the hologram form appeared, Tenley pushed herself off the bed so fast she tripped. “Omigod. How did you do that?” She poked it.

  “It’s part of our Intel. It’s a chip. Manuals and forms. Boring things. After you sign, you won’t be able to use your element again. Ever.”

  Tenley took a step back. “So what’s in it for me?”

  “What?”

  “What do I get out of it?”

  “You have to sign this form otherwise you’ll be—you’ll go away.”

  “Where?”

  Pennie tapped on her temple again. “It says it here in the fine print.”

  Tenley stepped up to the second hologram and squinted. “I’m not reading all this. It’s tiny.”

  “I know. Basically, it says that if you don’t sign this, you get erased.”

  “Like a photo?”

  Pennie looked sorry about it when she nodded.

  “Erased as in dead?”

  “And we don’t want that to happen.”

  “Yeah we don’t want that to happen.” Her phone pinged in rapid succession. “No!” She crumpled to the ground.

  Pennie rushed to her side. “Does something hurt?”

  “I’ve lost thirteen followers. I’m never going to get the nomination now. Never.” She showed the phone to Pennie. “Every ANMIT contestant has more followers than me. Even the little genius kid who builds electric rockets for his gerbils. Even he has more followers.”

  Pennie turned back to the hologram forms still hovering in the air. “Tenley. Please. Sign this.”

  “Have you no mercy? I’m in a serious crisis here. Take your cool little hologram tricks and show them to genius gerbil boy instead. I’m sure he could find a way to put them in every household in Hadley Beach.”

  Tenley froze.

  “Omigod.”

  She blinked at Pennie.

  “O-mi-god.”

  “What?”

  Tenley pointed to the holograms. “Can you beam one of these things into every house in Hadley Beach?”

  “What?”

  “Vote for me, Tenley T!” She raised her arms. “On a hologram billboard in every living room in every house in Hadley Beach!”

  “I don’t have that Intel.”

  “So program it. Anything can be programmed, Pennie.”

  “I don’t have the access to do that.” Pennie looked out the window again.

  “I’ll sign the form.”

  Pennie blinked at her. “You will?”

  “Give me a pen.”

  “Just sign with your finger. Right here.”

  Tenley lifted an eyebrow. “And you’ll send a hologram ad into every house in Hadley Beach? Tomorrow night at seven forty-five, fifteen minutes before the vote? Promise?”

  That would be eleven hours and forty-five minutes after Tenley had been erased if she didn’t sign the form. So yes, Pennie would promise anything.

  “Okay, but just so you understand, Tenley. You can’t use your element ever again, starting now. No wind. No matter what.”

  “And just so you understand, all I’ve ever wanted to be is America’s Next Most Inspirational Teen. I’d give up everything to get it.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  They shook on it.

  Tenley signed the hologram.

  “There’s no way I can lose now.” Tenley grinned. “Right?”

  “Right.” Pennie grinned back.

  29

  2:00:00

  Hadley Beach

  “Wake up!” Tenley nudged Pennie. “We’re can’t be late. Mr. Mingby’s gonna leave us if we’re not there by seven.”

  Pennie sat up.

  “I left some clothes for you on the bed. You cannot wear this tennis outfit again.”

  Tenley walked out of the living room and Pennie looked down at the stopwatch. Two hours until the Fair Force arrived. She stood quickly.

  And plopped back down again.

  Tenley had signed the form! Which meant today, her last two hours on Earth, she could relax. She’d done it; The Right to Delete. The rest of it was up to the Fair Force. All she needed to do now was get Tenley away from as many people as possible when they arrived.

  Pennie strutted into the kitchen. Even gravity felt like her friend this morning.

  Sitting at the table, ignoring the eggs in front of her, Tenley was playing with her phone.

  “Pennie.” Mrs. Tylwyth yawned by the sink. “We were worried you’d sleep right through the field trip this morning. Tenley tried to wake you three times.”

  “Four,” Tenley corrected her.

  “Four.” Mrs. Tylwyth opened the refrigerat
or. “Honestly, a field trip at seven in the morning.”

  “Mr. Mingby said it’s because the tickets were half price or something if you went this early.” Tenley shrugged. “And we’re a public school so we’re lucky to even have pencils.”

  “You all brought in your own pencils this year,” Mrs. Tylwyth said. “They cut the pencil budget.”

  “Right. See?”

  Pennie sat at the table.

  “Now, Pennie, we’ve been discussing a new bed for you. We were thinking we could put two beds in Tenley’s room. Weren’t we, Tenley, dear?”

  “Yup.”

  “Please, Mrs. Tylwyth, don’t buy a new bed for me. I’m fine on the couch, really.”

  “Who said anything about buy? I own an antique store, dear. I’ve got dozens of beds to pick from. And it’s Sylma.” Mrs. Tylwyth placed a plate of eggs and a glass of orange juice in front of her. “Now, do you have the permission slip I gave you? Mr. Mingby’s a stickler for that kind of thing.”

  “Agreed,” Tenley said.

  “I have it. Thank you.” Pennie took a sip of the juice. This would be her last real orange juice, not the instant orange mix they had in Fair City.

  Tenley groaned.

  “Tenley, you’re still having trouble with your phone?”

  “It’s gotta be the Internet, Mom. I’m telling you, nothing is posting to my YouTube. Nothing.”

  “I’ll make a call from work,” Mrs. Tylwyth said.

  Tenley leaned into Pennie. “Wait, Pennie. Do you need the Internet for the, you know, thing we discussed that will happen at seven forty-five tonight?”

  “No.” Pennie said quietly. “Not necessary.”

  “Good. Hey, Mom, you can forget about putting my flyers up at the store today. Pennie and I have a much better plan.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “You’ll see. Right, Pen?”

  Pennie smiled halfheartedly. There was no way she could create a hologram ad for Tenley without her tools. She didn’t even know how to do that with her tools. But Laraby might, she thought. It was the least she could do for Tenley now that she’d signed the form. Once her element was properly deleted by the Fair Force, Tenley wouldn’t be needing a Fair One. This would be the last thing Pennie ever did for her.

  “How exciting. It’s time to get going. Pennie, go on upstairs and change,” Mrs. Tylwyth said.

  Pennie, heavy with guilt now, stood and turned for the door.

  Upstairs, a pair of skinny jeans and a light-blue T-shirt were laid out on the bed. Two light-blue sneakers (three sizes too big) were placed below. Pennie undressed and redressed quickly, tucking Tink’s crystal eight under the blue shirt and stuffing socks into each shoe. She stepped into the bathroom, twisted her long red hair into a bun, and splashed cold water on her pale face. But what were these dark circles under her eyes? Gravity again, Pennie decided. It would be one thing she didn’t miss back in Fair City.

  Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Tylwyth’s car stopped in front of the school.

  “Funny. I still can’t seem to find that darn garage door opener,” she mumbled.

  “Thanks, Mom. See ya.” Tenley jumped out.

  Pennie leaned over the front seat. “Mrs. Tylwyth. I just want you to know, in case I don’t see you again.”

  Mrs. Tylwyth swatted the thought away.

  “That you are a great mom.”

  “Well, thank you, honey.”

  Pennie stepped out of the car. “Good-bye, Mrs. Tylwyth.”

  “Sylma! And see you after school.”

  Pennie shut the door and waved, knowing that she wouldn’t.

  30

  1:15:00

  Hadley Beach

  “Holden!” Pennie shouted to him as he crossed the street with his board tucked under his good arm.

  “Hey, Pennie. You look so—un-tennisy.” He smiled. “Not that the tennis clothes didn’t look good, because those looked unreal, too.” He hesitated, not knowing whether he’d just said something insulting or not. Girls, man. The wrong words could kill you.

  A group of them, girls Pennie had never seen before, broke into a fit of giggles as they passed by.

  “Hey, so, Holden,” Pennie said, glancing up at the early morning sky. Not a single cloud today. It wasn’t supposed to make a difference; good visibility wasn’t supposed to affect the 3rdi’s, but the truth was, it did. Which meant that Laraby—if he were watching them now—would see and hear everything perfectly. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if you could make a hologram? Just a simple square with some words on it, let’s say?”

  “That’d be cool. A hologram with anything on it would be cool.”

  They started walking.

  “Right,” Pennie agreed, looking at the sky. “Like let’s say that you’d just gotten someone to sign a form that you really needed them to sign and in exchange you promised them a hologram ad that would appear at seven forty-five tonight in every single house in Hadley Beach?”

  Holden shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. They already have some hologram stuff. I mean, like they have dead people coming back to sing on stage, which is kind of weird I guess, but whatever.” At the entrance, Holden held the door for her. “Hey, wanna practice boarding again after school?”

  “I can’t,” Pennie said.

  “Tomorrow then?”

  “Maybe.” The back of Pennie’s knees started to sweat from the lie.

  “Cool.”

  Inside the school, it seemed like half the kids were staring at them.

  “Why is everyone looking at us?” Holden whispered. “Did someone start a rumor about us going out or something?”

  Pennie looked over at him. He was blushing.

  Down the hall, another group of girls stood pointing at them. An entire fleet of Fair Force was less intimidating than a group of middle-school girls, Pennie thought.

  Holden stopped in front of a door. “I think this is your homeroom.”

  Inside the classroom, a group of girls, including Tenley, turned to look at them.

  “Anyway,” Pennie continued. “Let’s say that hologram that appeared at seven forty-five tonight in every single house in Hadley Beach read, ‘Vote for Me, Tenley T, America’s Next Most Inspirational Teen!’ Don’t you think that would be pretty amazing? Wouldn’t it be the best final thing someone could ever do for their client?”

  Holden wasn’t following. “I gotta go.”

  “Tenley might even win the nomination!” Pennie called after him.

  “I think there’s a better chance I’ll wake up six-foot-two one morning.” Holden waved, turning down the hall.

  31

  1:20:00

  Hadley Beach

  “Settle down, people. Our buses leave at zero-seven-hundred,” Mr. Mingby, standing at the blackboard, warned everyone. “That’s in twenty minutes. And when I say leave, I mean leave you if you’re not on board. I didn’t get up at the crack of dawn to be late. So I hope you all got your permission slips in.” Mr. Mingby was a big burly man with surprisingly elegant glasses, which he pushed up to read the list in his hands. “If not, you’ll be in homework club for the day. No exceptions.”

  The students went to their desks and Pennie found an empty seat in the back.

  “But Mr. Mingby, what if we don’t have one and it’s not our fault?”

  Mr. Mingby crossed his arms and looked over his glasses. “You’re teenagers now. Future leaders. You, and only you, were responsible for getting a parent signature. So today, you’ll be staying here, Trevor. Which leaves a space open for our new student.” Mr. Mingby motioned toward Pennie in the back row. “As long as you have your permission slip?”

  “I’ve got three hundred new likes!” Tenley squealed from her desk.

  “Yes, Mr. Mingby.” Pennie waved the permission slip to distract his frown away from Tenley. “I’ve got it right here.”

  “Very good. See, kids. When one door closes, another one opens. Tha
t’s life in a nutshell. Now. You, as seventh graders, earned this end-of-the-year field trip. Don’t disappoint. Everyone but Trevor, let’s go.”

  Tenley shrieked again. “Three hundred and seven.”

  This time, Mr. Mingby glared at her. “Excited for the theme park, are we, Ms. Tylwyth? All right, everyone, let’s go!”

  Outside, two yellow buses were parked along the school’s curb. Tenley grabbed Pennie’s elbow.

  “I’m trending.”

  “Pennie One!” Holden poked Pennie’s shoulder from behind. “Wanna sit with me?”

  “Sure,” Pennie answered.

  Tenley grinned at her phone and walked away.

  Students looked sleep-deprived while they waited to be told which bus they were on. A growing group of them was staring at Pennie now.

  “Have you ever been to Adventures, Inc.? I’ve heard it’s got, like, three different parks inside of it. One’s all VR. Just opened,” Holden said.

  “VR?”

  “Virtual Reality.”

  “Like a 3rdi,” Pennie nodded, distracted by how many students were staring at her. Holden didn’t answer. Pennie looked back at him quickly. “Third eye.” She poked her forehead. “Virtual Reality’s like a third eye, right?”

  Holden shrugged. “I guess.”

  Mr. Mingby called off Tenley’s name. She straightened her new sash and disappeared into the bus parked behind him.

  After a few more names, Mr. Mingby called off Holden’s name and pointed down to the second bus. Instead of heading toward it, Holden leaned into Pennie and whispered, “I’m just gonna wait here.”

  When the last of the names were called off, Pennie and a handful of other girls remained stranded on the grass. Mr. Mingby looked up from his clipboard.

  “Any names I left off, you can get on this bus behind me.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Mingby?” Holden approached him. “Would you mind if I went on this one too? Just cuz, you know, Pennie’s new. And I’m assigned to show her around.” He nodded toward Pennie.

  Mr. Mingby skimmed through his papers, flustered. “Sure, get on, Wonderbolt.”

  Holden thanked him and climbed on the bus after Pennie.