by Jennie Brown
But I shook it back. “Poppy Rose Mayberry,” I said, since he was into using full names. I tried to figure out what day he was, but couldn’t. “What are—”
“Friday. A Friday that they say needs some help.” He sighed, and I followed his cold gaze and head nod to a cute old couple standing next to the bus. They must have been his grandparents.
“They don’t look so bad.” I said, noticing the sad looks on their wrinkly faces. “So, why exactly—”
“Oh, they say I’m just a little behind, that’s all.” He cut me off once again. “Like they would even know.” His eyes rolled. If he hadn’t just told me that he’s a Friday, then I definitely would have thought that he was a Thursday. Especially with the way he seemed to be answering my questions before I could even get them out. Rude much?
“I haven’t seen you—”
“That’s cause I just—”
“Would you please stop doing that?” I asked, probably a tad bit too forcefully while staring into those twinkling green eyes of his.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Whoooaaa. Soorrrry,” he huffed loudly and turned his head toward the aisle. A few other students looked back.
Touchy, touchy. Ridiculous. Great—a fun bus ride with an emotional Friday who couldn’t even disappear if I wanted him to.
I tapped his shoulder. “Okay. Since we are going to be sitting next to each other for, like, the next million minutes, you might as well just give up and talk to me now,” I said.
Silence.
“So … I will try again.”
His arms crossed over his chest again and he sighed. This might be harder than I thought.
“I haven’t seen you around Nova Elementary. Did you just move here or something?” I asked in my nicest, sweetest voice, hoping this would prompt an answer. I even batted my eyelashes like I had seen Ellie do at Evan Finklestein when she needed to borrow a pencil. After I asked Logan the question, though, I realized that it didn’t make much sense considering the fact that if you had weekday powers, you were 100% born in Nova. But maybe he had moved away and come back.
Silence.
He finally turned his head back toward me and stared. And stared some more …
Silence.
“Awkward,” I said to Pickle under my breath, fully aware that Logan heard. She yawned and put her furry head down to sleep more.
Finally, the stubborn boy gave in. “I just want to make sure you are finished with what you need to ask so I don’t cut you off again,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, but I noticed the crooked smile he stifled back.
“Haha, Mister SmartyPants.” I chuckled.
“I’ve lived in Nova my whole life.” He paused and looked toward the floor. He spoke quietly, “Well, Mom and Dad died a little while back.”
I couldn’t even imagine something bad happening to one parent, let alone both. Poor Logan. “How did they di—”
“My grandparents take care of me now.” He cut me off. I wasn’t sure if it was out of habit or if he was avoiding the question. I was probably too forward in asking anyway.
I shrugged and moved on. “So why haven’t I seen you around school?”
“Well, my grandma thinks that I will get the best education at home,” he said, imitating his grandmother’s voice, and he did a pretty good job of making that scratchy old lady voice. “But I’m on this bus to Power Academy, so I guess that’s not working too well.”
We chuckled together.
“Plus, both of my grandparents are totally over-protective. I’m actually surprised they are sending me here—since that’s where …” He paused. “Never mind. I don’t mind the whole home-schooling thing though,” he continued, changing the touchy subject.
“Mmmhmm,” I mumbled. I wondered what he was going to say, but decided not to press the issue. And that whole home-schooling thing I didn’t get. Who in their right mind “wouldn’t mind” being home-schooled? I would totally miss the whole socializing aspect—even if I only had one true friend.
“I told my grandparents that I refuse to spend my summer at the prison that is Power Academy, but they wouldn’t listen,” he said. “Pop’s a Sunday, and Gram’s a Saturday, so it’s not like they would even understand any powers at all.” Then he whispered, “And for the record …” He looked around to make sure nobody noticed, and then winked at me. “I do know what I’m doing.”
For some reason I felt a little nervous and looked down to see Pickle’s belly move up and down with each sleepy breath. When I brought my head back up, Logan was nowhere to be found. When I looked down the rows I didn’t see him anywhere there either. “Definitely a Friday,” I muttered to a passed-out Pickle. Logan had disappeared. I guess he did know what he was doing after all. So why was he even on this bus?
My body jerked to the right as we turned at a road sign that read No Trespassing. Pickle jolted awake as we continued down a windy dirt path surrounded by a forest of dark green trees. There was the outline of a mansion-looking building on the horizon. If I squinted hard enough, I thought I noticed some other buildings deep in the forest. The forest that I heard was haunted. A slight shiver went down my spine. “Almost there,” the bus driver yelled.
“And Logan is still missing,” I said to Pickle, shrugging my shoulders. Even though it shouldn’t have mattered if he was there or not, my cheeks grew warm at the thought that I could get along with this Logan Elliot Prince.
Chapter Seven
“Okay, kiddos. Single file, now. Single file into the main hall,” a large woman in a way-too-tight green dress screamed as we got off the bus and made our way under the giant arches that read Power Academy, Home of the Specials. The second part of the sign made it really obvious that we were here because we weren’t quite up to speed. The specials? Really? I rolled my eyes and thought that this would be something that Veronica and I would totally laugh about if she were here.
I instantly recognized this rotund woman from the brochure as Headmistress Larriby. Rumored to be the meanest and cruelest woman not only at Power Academy, but in the entire Nova township, this was one woman I hoped to never meet. Veronica told me that she heard from Mark Masters who heard from his cousin that last summer at P.A. (Power Academy), Mrs. Larriby forced a boy to spend a week in the supposedly haunted forest surrounding campus just because he couldn’t turn off a light with his Wednesday power. Ridiculous. I wondered what she would think about and do because of my lack of skills.
“I also heard that that boy disappeared and hasn’t been found since,” Veronica had added at the tail-end of the story. Sure, she always knew the good gossip, but sometimes she had a tendency to exaggerate things, so I could never be certain. “They were never sure if he was eaten by bears or swooped up by ghosts. But either way, he hasn’t returned to this day,” she had added with extreme hand gestures for extra effect.
We were greeted (if that’s what you want to call it) by Headmistress Larriby and a skinny guy who had his back toward us. Bald patches of skin poked through thinning gray hair, and he obviously had a tough time choosing clothing, because his red sweatshirt swallowed him whole. When he finally turned around, I gasped back a chuckle. A thick forest of hairs stuck out both sides of his nose that I could see from like ten feet away. Gross. I think it was even worse than Mark Masters’s nose-picking habit.
As each student walked under the arches, nostril-man handed us those squishy stress-ball things. The silver font on the front of them said Embrace Your Day, Be Special. I guess they were our consolation prizes for being forced here this summer. He winked at me as he plopped it in my hand. What a weirdo.
“Here ya go, Pickle,” I said tossing the ball, now her newest toy, into her travel den. She gave me an approving yip and her tail wagged back and forth in excitement. Love that little fur ball!
“Hey, check out the beak on that one,” Logan said, pointing to nostril man. He reappeared next to me in line and rested his forearm on my head. Not the first tim
e someone did that. Oh, the perks of being vertically challenged.
I nudged him. “Single file. You better watch out or Old Woman Larriby is gonna send you to the haunted forest and you’ll disappear for a lot longer than that little bit on the bus.” I looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “By the way …” I hesitated a second before continuing, “Where did you go earlier?”
Since my seat partner-in-crime disappeared within the first ten minutes of the trip here, and everyone else on the bus was engrossed in other conversations about their lacking skills, I was left to talk to myself and Pickle the rest of the way. Although Pickle was so cute and pretty decent company, the only conversation she can keep is one involving whining, whimpering, and a yap at the mention of the occasional treat.
“Just up and down the rows, listening in on conversations,” Logan answered quietly as Mrs. Larriby passed by.
“Then you must be pretty good with your powers.”
He smirked. “From what I overheard, I’m better than most on the bus.”
Apparently, he was cocky, too, but I didn’t mind.
“It comes and goeeeee … ouch!”
Before he could even finish his sentence, Logan’s head jerked backward as Headmistress Larriby grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him behind me in line. Ouch.
“That looked painful.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Eyes up here, all.” Mrs. Larriby waited for silence and then continued. “Our welcome session begins in the library at eighteen-hundred,” she screamed even though we were all within like ten feet in front of her. “Be there early to ensure a seat,” she added and spun around on her matching icky-green heels, and that was it.
In the very few lessons of Mr. Salmon’s that I actually paid attention to, military time was one of them. Go figure.
Eighteen minus twelve. “Six o’clock,” I whispered over my shoulder to Logan.
He laughed.
Headmistress Larriby and her huge-nostril sidekick disappeared (not literally, like a Friday would) into the next room over. Everyone jumped out of line and chatter erupted.
I used this opportunity to take a good look around the place. There were probably about thirty other Weekday kids here. I recognized maybe half of them from Nova Elementary. A few others were going to be 7th graders who must have flunked out last summer (bummer), and I was assuming the rest were in the same home-schooling situation as Logan.
It seemed that many of them already knew each other or were making friends quickly. I couldn’t complain. I was sure that I could potentially have a good friend in Logan.
Right away, I noticed the group of Thursdays huddled in the far corner. Their eyes darted around from person to person. I had seen Ellie and my mom do this enough to know that they were attempting to read minds. But by the anguished looks on their faces, and the fact that they were here, I had a feeling that those Thursdays weren’t having much success.
Some other students chatted by the water fountain right outside the library. One of them pointed toward the giant chandelier hanging right in the center of the foyer. He was a Wednesday, I assumed, who was trying to make the lights cut out. No such luck.
Three Fridays were sitting on the edge of the master staircase that sat between two long hallways. Again, I could tell by their strained squinty faces that they were trying really hard to disappear. I remembered back to 4th grade when Colby Mason first disappeared in the middle of Mr. Harbow’s classroom. These Fridays had the same exact kind of constipated look on their faces that Colby had on his that day. I giggled as their lips and cheeks contorted and scrunched harder. I guess Logan really was ahead of the game.
Of course, there were no Tuesdays here, because all of Nova knows that Tuesdays don’t get their power until they are thirteen years old. Sometimes I wished I were a Tuesday. I would teleport right out of this place faster than the speed of light and be back in my bedroom playing with Pickle and hanging out with my family.
Although the sign out front said that Power Academy was established in 2001, I found that hard to believe. Yes, the façade was beautiful, but from what I could see of the interior, it looked pretty dilapidated. On every wall in the entranceway, the floral wallpaper was peeling off to reveal a dark color underneath. The winding wooden staircase had more than a few missing rungs. The whole place truly looked like a house out of a scary movie. Not gonna lie, it kind of gave me the creeps, and that’s hard to do. Maybe that’s one of the ways they force us students into mastering our powers. I mean, who would want to come back here another summer? Then I noticed the boy standing directly to my left. He looked old enough to drive. Poor guy must have failed out of this place a bunch of times.
Pickle began to whine. She had been in her travel home for a while now. I grabbed her purple and orange-striped collar and leash, and let her walk around a little. “Hey there, little guy,” Logan said as Pickle’s little legs ran to him.
“Little girl,” I corrected him and smiled.
He pushed a piece of hair from his face and then reached down, way down, to pet her. Her tailed wiggled back and forth so fast that I thought she might lift right off the ground. She rolled over on her back, begging him to pet her belly. Definitely spoiled.
“Pickle,” I said, reaching down and petting her too. “Meet my new friend, Logan.”
At the mention of the word friend, I noticed Logan smile, but I didn’t bring that to his attention.
And then I heard it. Her. Ugh.
“Like, Oh. My. Gosh. I have been looking for you, like, all over, Poppy,” a shrill, annoying voice came from behind me. I would know that voice anywhere.
“Hey, Ellie,” I mumbled, unenthused as she stepped up next to me and gave me one of those fake “air-kisses” you see rich ladies do in the movies. I just stood there stiff as a board, not knowing how to react. She turned to the door and flicked her wrist at the uniformed man standing in the frame. On her command, the chauffeur exited. That explained why she hadn’t been on the bus. Ugh.
“And whoooo’s this, Poppy?” Ellie asked, looking Logan up and down, flicking her chestnut hair from her shoulder. She beamed, just like she did when she won Little Miss Nova, 2015.
“This is Logan. We met today on the—”
“Well, it is so awwwwesome to meet you, Loooh-gan.” Ellie stuck out her French-tipped hand for him kiss (who does that, anyway?), and locked eyes with him. I’d seen that look enough times to know that she was trying to read his mind. He didn’t know what to do with her hand, so he just dropped it. For some reason, I felt relieved.
“Oh,” she said, confused, not used to rejection.
I laughed and looked up at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the foyer and saw that we had five minutes until Headmistress Larriby would come hunt us down.
“We should probably go in,” I said to Logan. And only to Logan.
“Yes, we certainly must,” Ellie squeaked, grabbing Logan’s hand and dragging him into the library. Ugh.
By the time I got Pickle packed up in her bag, all the seats in the library had been taken. I looked around to see that the only chair available was the one on the platform where I’m sure Larriby would be sitting in a few minutes.
If my Monday powers worked like they were supposed to, then I would have floated that chair right over to me in the back of the room and taken a seat before Headmistress Larriby even arrived. But they didn’t work that way and so I was here. In Power Academy you-know-what.
Headmistress Larriby bounced into the room, because she really was quite bulbous, with Nostril-Man, which was all I knew to call him at this point. She took a quick glance around and then made direct eye contact with me. I could tell by the look on her face that she was not happy whatsoever. In fact, she looked downright angry.
“Did I not say to be in this room a few minutes before eighteen-hundred?” her voice echoed across the library and hit me so ha
rd that I felt a little off-balance.
The large room suddenly felt tiny. In an instant, I sensed thirty sets of Weekday eyes on me. My pulse began to quicken, and I was positive that I had begun to turn red. If only Ellie hadn’t distracted me and I had been in the room like two seconds earlier to grab a chair, I wouldn’t have been in this awkward situation. Stupid Ellie.
Headmistress Larriby’s arm fat jiggled while she waved them around, screaming at me using words like “tardy” and “unacceptable” and “disrespectful.” All the other students were silent. I took a quick glance at Ellie to notice her lips curved into an evil little smile, of course. Logan looked like he wanted to save me and make me disappear. If only he could.
I squeezed Pickle a little bit tighter to my chest, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, wishing I were back in my house in Nova. When I opened my eyes once again to see Headmistress Larriby still rattling on about my tardiness, I did something that surprised even me. I imagined that chair up on stage sliding swiftly away from Mrs. Larriby’s grasp.
With her eyes still locked on mine, Old Jiggly Jell-O Arms slowly bent over to sit. Move over chair, I said to myself. And just as Headmistress Larriby’s big ol’ butt was about to hit the seat of the chair, it slid sharply to the left and she plopped to the floor with a big BOOM! Laughter erupted throughout the huge room as lopsided nostril-man struggled to pull her up.
Yeah, that was probably not the best time for my Monday power to work.
Chapter Eight
I ran to the front of the room to help Nostril-Man get Headmistress Larriby to her feet. I felt totally guilty.
“I guess stuff like this is the reason I’m here.” I forced a laugh, trying to joke with her in hopes of getting on her good side—if she had one at all, that is. I definitely didn’t want to spend my first night in the “haunted forest.” It couldn’t really be haunted, right?
“Just take that seat over there.” She pointed to a chair in the corner of the room that had magically appeared. Someone in the room was obviously a pretty good Monday.