Gifted Connections 01

by S M Olivier

  I no longer had the luxury of just showing up anymore. My first day of class consisted of a three-mile run and an obstacle course. I wasn’t given a break because it was my first day. I was expected to participate even though I felt like I was dying. I might have a small frame, but I knew it wasn’t because I worked out, it was because of my fast metabolism. It was no surprise I was the last to cross the finish line.

  The faster you ran, the longer time you had to rest before you had to do the obstacle course. I had no time to rest. I was required to immediately climb up the ropes, army crawl under a rope, use a rope to walk up an inclined wall, balance on a beam five feet off the ground (if you fell you had to start the course all over again), leap over logs, and then carry a log equal to or greater than my own weight. I had been weighed and ‘banded.’ All the logs were color coded depending on your weight class. I had the lightest one, but it was still no joke.

  The reward for finishing the obstacle course early was a hot shower. If you were near the end of the course, you would be guaranteed to have a cold shower. I was physically shaken and sore as I stood under my freezing cold shower. My main goal was to just wash my body. There was no way I was sticking my head under the ice-cold blast, and I didn’t want to have my curly hair back today.

  I was thankful I had lunch after phys ed. I needed the time to decompress after a stressful audition, college physics class, college calculus class, and then that physical torture class they were trying to pass off as phys ed.

  I didn’t have to look hard to find Jax or Jemmy. They were waiting for me by the entrance closest to the phys ed building.

  “Kill me now,” I groaned as I drew closer to them.

  “Did you bomb your audition?” Jemmy asked sympathetically.

  “Yes, no, I don’t know,” I lamented. “What I was talking about was that torture class. Why do I have to take phys ed again?!”

  Jemmy and Jax laughed simultaneously. “Why don’t you sit down, honey. I’ll go get our food. What are you in the mood for? Burger, salad, Asian, Pizza?”

  “A burger,” I said decisively. “I need all the extra calories I can get. Why didn’t anyone warn me!”

  “I tried to,” Jemmy said smugly. “I’ll take a cheeseburger too!” she smiled at Jax.

  He gave her an annoyed look. “Really?”

  “What?” she shrugged innocently. “You’re already going that way.”

  Jax shook his head but still left to get our food.

  Jemmy giggled. “Come on, I’ll show you where we sit,” she took my hand and led me to a long table where Ben, Rick, and Taylor were.

  I froze when I saw Tamara at the other end.

  Jemmy followed my line of vision and made a scoffing noise. “Ignore her,” she said. “She’s part of the group. Even though mommy and daddy divorced, the kids still need a happy life.”

  “What?!” I asked, completely mystified.

  She grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “This is high school, but not a normal high school. We’ve been together most of our lives. We are a dysfunctional family. We date, we break up, we get over it. No use breaking up the group over a break up.”

  I nodded in understanding. “If she says one catty word, so help me,” I huffed as I sat down on the same side of the table and as far away from her as possible.

  Ben, Rick, Taylor, and some guy I never met were seated across from us. I made sure to leave the end seat for Jax and Jemmy sat on my other side in front of Rick.

  “Hey, Blake!” Ben smiled. In the light of day and sober, I now saw that he was the boy next door cute with dark hair that fell in his eyes but was still short enough not to look too stereotypically rocker boy or hippy. He had puppy dog, soulful brown eyes, and an open, friendly face. He even had a nice physique from playing football. “I was just telling the guys that you are coming out to practice tomorrow night.”

  “Saw some of your material online, you sound sick,” the fourth guy said. “I’m Mike by the way. I play the drums.”

  “Hi, Mike,” I smiled. “I would shake your hand, but I don’t think I can move my arms just yet.” I grimaced. Yes, I was being slightly dramatic, but the pain in my arms was great enough for me not to want to move my arms.

  Jemmy guffawed. “First day, and first phys ed class,” Jemmy explained.

  The guys grimaced. “Oh, yeah. Unless you play a sport, you’re kind of screwed.” Rick said sympathetically.

  I frowned. “I never played a sport. I used to like swimming, but I never tried to compete in it.”

  “The swim team already had try outs,” Jemmy said with glee. I really think she was taking pleasure from my pain.

  “Wait,” I said suspiciously. “How do you get out of phys ed, but I’m stuck in it?”

  She gave me a coy smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “They consider her nutrition class sufficient enough to count as being proactive in her health and wellness,” Ben explained with a look of chagrin.

  “She makes sure she passes her class enough to remain out of phys ed or participates in sports,” Taylor added.

  “How can taking a class that you sit down in be sufficient enough to make you physically strong?” I asked, mystified.

  “She manipulates electronics,” Rick looked at Jemmy. “No offense, but it doesn’t require too much physical exertion. She still gets tired, or hungry, and may have other…desires, but it’s not the same as if you…” And right before my eyes, there were two Rick’s. He had multiplied himself.

  My jaw dropped and just as quickly as he had multiplied he was back to normal. I looked around. “Wait, did that just happen? Are you allowed to use your gift out in the open like that?”

  “No,” Jax said sternly as he took his seat. He handed Jemmy and me our burgers, fries, and soft drinks. “There are a lot of us here, and all of the norms know about us, but we try to keep it in the designated areas and classroom environments.”

  “So,” Taylor looked at me in consideration. “He showed you his. Want to show us yours?”

  I looked at their expectant faces, popped a fry in my mouth, and shook my head. “Sorry boys, I’m not participating in show and tell today.”

  “Uhh, no fun,” Mike groaned.

  “We’ll find out sooner or later. Sooner, probably than later,” Taylor stated. “When it comes to our gifts, they get spread around rather quickly. The teachers like to talk, and they really don’t do it behind closed doors. Either you are weak and a level two or three, or you’re really strong like a level eight or nine,” he was staring at me closely like I would reveal it by my expression. He didn’t know I had a great poker face.

  “Why can’t she be a ten?” Ben asked shrewdly as he looked at me.

  “I’m guessing she’s a one or a two,” Tamara said snidely. “Maybe she can make flowers grow or run really fast. If she were anything worth talking about my dad would know. Will would have told him.”

  Somehow, she had made her way down the table and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “You know, Tamara, as the president and founder of the school, my dad doesn’t share everything with your father,” Jax stated, not even bothering to look her way.

  “It’s so cute how you’re defending her now. Did you tell her that I was your first girlfriend, the first girl you had sex with, and no matter how many times you stray, you always come back to me?” Tamara said slyly.

  “Shut up, Tamara,” Jemmy sighed, her tone droll. “Jealously isn’t really pretty on anyone. Just let it go and move on.”

  My phone vibrated at that moment and I looked down at it, tired of this conversation already. I wanted to leave but I didn’t want her to think she could run me off so easily and I really had no muscle strength to do so at the moment.

  Jace: Any news yet?

  Me: You know you would be the first to know if I had heard. :-P

  I checked my email once more and saw that I did have a new email:

  Dear Ms. Blake Thomas,

 
We would like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your admittance to Knightstown Music Conservatoire. We ask that you arrive to your first class promptly at 7:15 a.m. in room 301 with Dr. Greg Allen.

  I didn’t read the rest of the words. I had read enough. I quickly took a screenshot of it and sent it to Jace. I really meant it when I said I wanted him to be the first to know. He had pushed me into getting back to music. He helped inspire “Rumination,” and he had helped me get this opportunity in the first place.

  Seconds later I received a text back from him.

  Jace: I knew you could do it! I am SO proud of you!

  Me: Thank you! Without you, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity or the fire to succeed.

  I dropped my phone back in my bag and I turned to Jax and Jemmy, not caring that they were still in a heated debate with Tamara.

  “I got in,” I stated with a huge smile.

  “You got in?” Jax looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes. “You got in!” He stood and picked me up and started twirling me around.

  “You got in!” Jemmy squealed as she joined us, sandwiching me between the two of them.

  We looked like fools and we looked crazy, but I didn’t care!

  I was on cloud nine for the rest of the day until I entered my last class of the day: performing arts, a.k.a. gift training. The problem with starting school after it started for everyone else is you had to play catch up.

  I had no such problems in my academic classes, in fact, I was pleasantly surprised that I’ve already read the book for my AP English Literature class. My first assignment for that class was already done. It was also the only class I shared with Jax. I had seen him and Jemmy in the halls a few times after lunch, but I only had the one class with Jax.

  I knew immediately upon entering my performing arts class, that is was no ordinary classroom. When I opened the door to the room, I noticed it was long, but narrow; glass windows were in front of the class room with two additional doors, and it almost looked like an arena of sorts down below. There were two rows of seating in the room and I took the seat to the far left-hand corner.

  I was glad I was warned that my class may be a mixture of ages, mainly preteens and teenagers, because I would have left to check if I was in the right classroom. I only saw two other students around my age. I recognized them immediately as people that were in my phys ed class. When they saw me, they made a beeline towards me and sat down.

  “Hi, I’m Rachel,” the girl stated. She was average looking with her straw-colored hair and brown eyes. She was average build and height. All around average.

  “I’m Luke,” the guy said. He looked like he might have been a fighter at one time with his crooked nose and he had scars on his knuckles. He was cute in an unassuming way but obviously damaged. I knew immediately he had a past like mine. He had to fight for survival.

  “Hi, I’m Blake,” I lifted my lips in a semblance of a smile. I didn’t know how I felt about being thrown in a class of young teens. I almost felt like one of those kids that struggled with learning back at home. I was an overachiever and I was used to being at the top of the class, this was a new experience for me.

  “We know,” Rachel said smugly. “This school is worse than the small town I came from. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone wants to be in everyone else’s business. So, which Bell boy are you dating?”

  “Really, Rachel, can you have a little more tact and how is it any of your business?” Luke said with a long-suffering sigh.

  I gave a sort laugh. Rachel was bold in her approach. “They’re all my friends,” I stated evasively.

  The class started and our teacher, a severe looking man with biceps the size of my thighs took a spot up in the front of the classroom. His eyes scanned the room and finally landed on me. “Class, today we have a new student. Would you like to stand, introduce yourself, and tell us a little about yourself, including what gift you possess.”

  No, I thought, but instead I stood up and wiped my damp palms on my skirt. “Hi, everyone, my name is Blake Thomas. I just moved here. I love playing music and I can tell people to do stuff.”

  “She’s also a boyfriend stealer,” a pretty girl of about twelve said up front, making some of the class snicker with laughter. She had short, glossy black hair and eyes that tilted in the corners, suggesting an Asian heritage. Her eyes were a pretty unique shade of blue and combined with some mannerisms and a few distinct facial features like a slightly upturned nose, I knew instantly she had to be Tamara’s little sister.

  “Mei Linn,” the teacher admonished her with a hint of warning.

  She just gave him a pretty little smile and blinked up at him innocently.

  No one seemed impressed about my gift, including the teacher. As the class progressed, I realized why. The levels everyone kept talking about, weren’t based on the actual gift, but the source, control, and power of the gift itself. I guess I could have been more specific and said I had the gift of compulsion because there was another boy in the class that had the gift of suggestion, and his was slightly different. He could suggest people do something, but he couldn’t make people do things like I could. I made Troy model a dress, but since Troy wouldn’t typically wear a dress, the boy couldn’t suggest for him to. But he could, for instance, say: “I really like pizza, we should get pizza,” and the other person would like the idea and they would want to get pizza.

  There was a little girl that was considered a pyro too, but she could only produce a flame like a lighter if a fire source was nearby. She was considered a four. She couldn’t project her flame or produce fire balls.

  After introducing myself to the class, we were led down to the arena. It was extremely high tech and almost looked futuristic. There were a few healers in there. I would later find out that the gifted medical students took rotations being on standby in this class. I learned quickly that Noah, as a healer, was superior to the ones they had in the classroom today. They seemed to be able to heal superficial wounds and abrasions but unable to do the more difficult healing tasks. For instance, there was a boy that was able to sharpen and launch his nails like sharp little talons, reproduce them, and launch them again. The boy that had been paired with him could harden his skin like armor but he was too slow during one of their matches, so the nail thrower pierced his skin. Armor boy had reeled in pain, tripped over his own feet, and his head connected with the bleachers on the way down.

  The healers were able to heal him, but the scar remained, and they couldn’t help him with his headache with their gifts. They just gave the boy some ibuprofen (after they determined he didn’t have a concussion) and told him to sit out for the rest of the class. Noah didn’t leave scars (although, he couldn’t make them go away) when he healed people and he was able to heal headaches. I knew that first hand.

  Today’s lesson was an attack and defense class. I bombed it. Bad. I was paired up with this eleven-year-old girl and she could manipulate the earth in a way. We had been taken down to the arena and there was a section made for her. She stood on the box of flowers, grass, and vines and she kept making the vines crawl towards me. It wasn’t like she had the power to have them truly attack me, yet. It was a possibility that she would one day.

  I couldn’t compel her to stop or launch a counter offense. I couldn’t go to that place that my gifts were drawn from. I generally compelled myself with anger. I couldn’t be angry enough or think angry enough thoughts to do anything to a little girl.

  At one point in the class, the instructor made us ‘useless’ gifted take a seat and watch the more entertaining ones. Mei Linn had an entertaining gift as she could blink in and out. One minute she was there and the next she wasn’t. She couldn’t disappear for long or leave the position she had been in, but she was still able to keep the water manipulator from getting her wet.

  I learned the difference between manipulators and producers at least. The manipulators needed their water source, earth source, or whatever oth
er element nearby in order to use it. If the water manipulator, was for instance, in a desert he would be hard-pressed to use his gift in that environment. The producers were able to imagine the source of their power and it was there. It seemed the manipulators (who were considered a low to middle level) outnumbered us producers (who were considered mid to prominent level). I knew I was a producer. I had produced fire without fire being present. I was able to use my compulsion by imagining a time I was angry, without being angry.

  The second part of class was much more bearable for me. We learned about the elite students and former students that were asked to assist the school in helping recruit more students. We watched videos as gifted students were essentially saved from themselves or from someone intending harm to them. This elite team of students wore fire retardant, armor-plated uniforms made from all black. I almost found myself laughing, thinking I was watching an episode of X-Men. How did all these events occur in normal society without the gifted community being exposed?

  As I watched the videos, I saw my guys in several of them. Tamara and Jemmy were even in a few of them. I guess they treated these videos like training videos. It was a way for students to analyze and understand their powers if they had similar ones.

  I could hear so many of the students whispering to each other that one day they would work for one of the teams. Others scoffed at some of the lower level students and told them they would never be one.

  I could hear Mei Linn up front, “That’s my sister, Tamara, and her boyfriend Jaxson. I don’t know why a level zero would ever think she had a chance with him.”

  I couldn’t even find anything in me to be mad or upset at her. It was clear that she was young and impressionable, and her sister had started to poison that well. I was going to make it my mission to ‘fix’ her before she was ruined. Nobody liked a mean girl.