by Jennie Brown
“I was just trying to get the schedule to your nightstand without waking you up. I swear,” I pleaded.
Ellie sighed and reached for the pink robe draped over the foot of her bed. She threw it on over her pajamas, grabbed her Caboodle toiletry kit, and charged to the door. “What-ev,” she shouted, slamming the door behind.
Obviously, I couldn’t do anything right.
Chapter Ten
I was happy to find Logan sitting alone in the cafeteria for two reasons. For one, it was nice to see a friendly face instead of a scowl from Ellie. And two, it was a relief that I didn’t have to be that girl who eats by herself in the corner.
“Thanks for totally abandoning me yesterday,” I said, cracking a smile as I set down my tray of blueberry pancakes. I was really only half-serious in saying this.
“Sorry about that,” he said with sincerity. “Ellie’s like a cling-on, and I couldn’t get rid of her.” His eyes rolled. “I can see how she annoys you.”
I smiled. He called her a cling-on and she annoyed him. “Is it that obvious?”
He gave me an of course it’s obvious look. “Yeah.”
Logan was definitely perceptive.
“Hey, Logan,” a boy with hair as red as mine and my Mom’s (I missed her), freckles, and frameless glasses plopped down next to Logan. Even without the giant cowboy hat, I recognized him as the Wednesday from last night with the light-up finger.
“This is Sam Bricker.”
“Ah … the Wednesday that completes our group.”
“Yep. That’s me,” he said, pushing the too-large glasses up his tiny freckled nose.
“So, I guess you’re home-schooled too?” I asked, taking a bite of syrup-soaked super tasty pancake.
“Nah. I’m already at Nova Middle.” He dropped his head to his chin. “Repeater P.A. student this summer.”
“It looked like you were using your light power pretty well last night,” I said, confused, thinking about how his hand so effortlessly lit up to scan the assignment list.
He shrugged and pushed up his glasses. “I am pretty good with it, that’s the problem.” He looked around the cafeteria and then leaned in forward and over the table. His lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “The last day of P.A. last summer, I was kind of responsible for that whole power outage thing.”
I knew exactly what incident he was talking about. Just about everyone in Nova knew about it. Veronica’s cousin’s friend told Veronica, and then she told me, that Headmistress Larriby made one of the students so upset that he made the power go out during the P.A. graduation ceremony. There was no electricity for two days because of it and Larriby and her strange sidekick had to find another place to stay. I had never heard of a Wednesday doing anything that big with their power. Not even my dad could do something like that.
But looking at the freckled, baby-faced Wednesday sitting across from me, I could hardly believe that he would do something like that at all. This little geeky guy was a total rebel troublemaker—and obviously a heck of a good Wednesday.
For the rest of breakfast we talked about school, friends, and our family. We also came to the conclusion that if all of Power Academy’s food tasted like those pancakes, maybe we didn’t want to go home at the end of the summer. Thinking of Headmistress Larriby made us second-guess that conclusion, though.
Based on personalities (not powers, because I still needed to get better at mine), we made a pretty decent trio. It was just too bad Ellie had to be part of our Team Five. We saw that we all had the same first class: Nova Power History 101 and walked there together.
I didn’t really understand how learning about Nova’s history for like the millionth time would help me and all the other captive prisoners in developing our powers, but we were forced to take it anyway.
“Logan, you read first.” Mrs. Barkdoll’s voice was muffled by the seating chart practically shoved up her nose. She could have really used some glasses.
Logan scooted his chair closer to his desk and began.
“It was in 1954 when the first meteor crashed directly into the center of Nova that the first power was discovered. It was a Monday; Roy Lichtenberg woke up to find that—”
And that’s where I drifted off. Not that I didn’t want to hear about my city’s history (yet again), it’s just that all that sci-fi stuff totally bored me. So, instead of listening, I wrote my first note to Veronica.
Bff Veronica,
Save me.
Xoxo, Poppy
Short and swee—
“You’re up next, Miss Mullberry,” Mrs. Blind-as-a-Bat Barkdoll’s sharp voice came from directly above my head. I assumed she was talking to me, even though she got my name wrong.
“I … uh …” I stuttered. I had no idea where Logan left off. I shot a look his way to see if he could give me a hint.
“Fourteen,” I swore I heard him whisper, but didn’t think his mouth moved. Strange.
I rapidly turned to page fourteen and smiled up at Mrs. Barkdoll. She probably couldn’t tell I changed my facial expression at all.
“Miss Mullberry,” she said again. “Are you just about ready?”
Mullberry? Really?
I glanced at the page enough to notice it was the right one, but I had no idea exactly where he left off. My heart started to race a little faster. How embarrassing to completely zone out the first day of class. I would never get out of this place alive at this rate.
But then I was saved by the least likely person.
“Don’t start without me,” Ellie’s obnoxious (and nasally) voice drifted from the back of the room. All heads turned to see her standing in the frame wearing one of her many pink T-shirts and a white skirt. Her right hand covered her nose. Drama Queen.
“I am sooo terribly sorry for being late. I had to rush to the nurse’s office for a little emergency.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed and shot to mine. She clacked her way to the center of the classroom and removed her hand from her face, revealing a thumb-sized Band-Aid spread across her nose.
Half the class gasped.
Really? Was that really necessary? Again, drama queen!
“Over there, Miss,” she squinted at the class roster, “Miss Prescott, is it?”
“Preston,” Ellie emphasized, smiling. The class chuckled. “Ellie Preston.” Her laser-whitened teeth were practically blinding.
Mrs. Barkdoll pointed to an empty chair next to Sam. Is this Ellie? he mouthed to me and grinned from ear to ear. I nodded.
“Now I forget where we left off,” Mrs. Barkdoll admitted.
Ellie raised her hand. “I’ll begin.”
Phew! Dodged that one.
The fifteen-minute break between classes was definitely needed. I ran upstairs and spent a little time with Pickle. When I got into the room, she immediately dropped a stuffed toy rabbit from her mouth and greeted me. Her tail wagged back and forth faster than my eyes could see.
“This is gonna be a loooong summer, Picks.” I grabbed one of her favorite peanut-butter treats and tossed it right into her mouth. “But I’m so glad to have you with me.” Her furry head leaned into my hand as I gave her one last scratch behind her ears. I shut the door and heard her whines behind it. Poor girl hated to see me leave. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how she would have felt if I had left her behind in Nova. Sure, she was our family dog, but everyone knew she was really mine.
I headed back downstairs to the Monday room for my Monday Power Intensive class. I slipped through the huge wooden door just as it began to shut.
“Take your seat,” a super tall, skinny young woman with white-blond hair slicked back in a tight ponytail said. Her tiny index finger moved up and down and up and down. Just like the rest of the Mondays in there, my eyes were locked on the chalk that was suspended midair, writing on the board clear on the other side of the room. She was good.
Welcome, Mondays!
Miss Maggie
We continued to stare in aw
e as the chalk flew over our heads and into her petite hand. I couldn’t wait until I could do stuff like that.
“Welcome to the Monday Power Intensive class,” she said with an awesome British accent. Because of the accent alone, I could tell I liked her already.
Sometimes Veronica and I would spend days pretending that we’re British. She was the Pippa to my Kate. We’d go to the mall and say things like “cheerio!” (goodbye), “knickers” (underwear), and “chim-chimity.” Well, maybe that last one was Mary Poppins. We just like talking that way—even if people look at us funny.
But I wondered how Miss Maggie got that accent. I mean, most people who are from Nova stay in Nova. She must have moved out of this place early in life and picked it up.
First Miss Maggie read over the rules for her class. They were pretty much the same as the rules at school, except when she talked about leaving to use the bathroom she said “the loo” instead. Loved it!
Then she went through the list of other Mondays and asked us to tell her about the progress of our powers.
A tiny girl with light brown hair and tan skin named Olive Pittman sat next to me. She admitted that she has never been able to move a single thing without using her hands. Her complete lack of skills totally made me feel confident in my uncontrollable ones.
“Charlie Fillman, and I don’t want to learn about my stupid power,” a boy with super curly brown hair spoke from the back of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. He propped his feet on the back of the chair in front of him and huffed. Miss Maggie just smiled.
And the four other Mondays took their turns. Three of them were a set of triplets named Tara, Tina, and Telia. “Our parents don’t like us to practice in the house,” they said simultaneously, and later admitted that meant they didn’t practice their Monday powers at all.
The last Monday was a girl named Matilda with dark skin and black hair. From just a quick glance, I thought that she might be shorter than even me.
“Some days I’m on, and some days I’m off,” she said in a squeaky voice I would expect to come from a mouse. A friendly smile beamed from her face.
Miss Maggie used her telekinesis to bring my schedule to her. Her straight white teeth smiled at me. “Ahhnd, you must be Popp-ay.”
“Yes, I do believe so,” I said in a half-British, half-American accent. What the heck was I doing? The other Mondays giggled as I slinked back in my chair. But Miss Maggie smiled warmly, almost like we were friends.
“The purpose of this class is to … well … improve upon your Monday powers.” At that moment Miss Maggie pointed to a long blue desk with seven glasses filled with water lined up in a row.
“This is your first assignment.” She motioned us toward the desk.
“This should be fun,” Matilda squealed. A ginormous smile spread across her face. Now that she was standing next to me, I could see that I was right earlier. She was super short and came just to my chin.
“Your goal is to get the glass of water from the desk and into your hands. Only using your Monday power. Like this.”
Miss Maggie’s bright blue eyes stared at the glass on the end. She pointed her index finger out straight as an arrow. The glass lifted effortlessly into the air, floated ever so delicately, and landed in her hand. She sent it back and it came back down silently on the table.
“You’re really good at that,” Matilda said, wide-eyed, slapping her hands together in approval.
“Years of practice.” Miss Maggie nodded. “Matilda, why don’t you try first?”
Miss Maggie moved her slender frame out of the way and Matilda took her place.
“Now concentrate extremely hard. You need to block out all distractions and just picture that glass,” (sounded like gloss) “of water landing ever so delicately into your hands.”
I could see the intense look coming from Matilda’s brown eyes. She was totally focused. The glass wobbled a bit at first and then slowly lifted from the desk. Not two seconds later it came crashing back down on the table. Water spilled everywhere.
“Duck!” Miss Maggie yelled as a roll of paper towels flew above our heads and into her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” Matilda said frowning.
“It’s perfectly all right. You will learn in time,” Miss Maggie assured her, using her telekinesis to clean up the mess. She pointed to the trashcan next to her desk, and in another swift motion the lid popped open and in dropped the wet towels. “Three Ts, you’re up next.”
Tara, Tina, and Telia stood in a line. After what seemed like an hour of scrunched faces and goofy grunting noises, none of their glasses of water even budged an inch. Those poor triplets.
“Perhaps we shall try another day,” Miss Maggie said, and smiled warmly at them. I couldn’t believe how awesome she was, not at all like I had imagined the power “boot camp” teacher to be like. This was the class where I heard horror stories of dodging softballs and controlling the throwing of knives. Yikes. Gotta love Veronica and her exaggerations.
“Okay, Poppy. Now, it’s your turn.”
My hands immediately clammed up, but I felt a little bit better when I looked over to see Matilda’s enthusiastic eyes and wide smile. I could tell that she totally wanted me to do well. All three “T” triplets stared at me in wonder, as if I were about to eat the world’s largest hamburger or attempt something crazy like that. Charlie Fillman still sat in the back of the room, unmoved. In fact, his eyes were closed and I was pretty sure—
Swish. The paper-towel roll flew over our heads again and landed on Charlie. He snorted as his head darted up. We all giggled.
Miss Maggie acted as if she had no idea where that paper-towel roll came from. “Now, nice and slow,” she said, drawing the attention back to me.
Just like Miss Maggie had said earlier, I blocked out everyone around me until they were all just blurs in my peripheral vision. I heard a few whispers from behind, but tuned them out too. I concentrated on that end glass alone. Lift. Lift. Lift. It began to wobble a bit, and just when I thought it was about to tip over, it lifted into the air.
“Oohs” and “Ahhs” came from behind me, but I concentrated on keeping that glass suspended.
I heard Miss Maggie’s heels click and clack as she walked toward me, but didn’t let that distract me either. “Now will it forward,” she whispered.
“Go forward, go forward, go forward,” I quietly said to myself. And just like that, the glass listened. It was suspended midair. Awesome! This was so awesome!
“Just a little bit farther, Poppy. Now reach out to grab it.”
I slowly reached out my other hand. “Go to hand, go to hand, go to hand,” I whispered. And then when I practically felt the cold glass against my sweating hot palms … Crash.
Darn it!
I had failed at the whole Monday thing once again.
The silence broke when someone started clapping. “You’re amazing, Poppy!” Matilda squealed so enthusiastically I was almost convinced. “Closest one in the class!”
“So close, Poppy,” Miss Maggie said and patted me on the back. “It seems that it may not take you long af—”
Beep! Miss Maggie was cut off by the loud speaker, and then came Headmistress Larriby’s urgent (and annoying) masculine voice. “Would the following students please report to the library immediately. Logan Prince. Samuel Bricker. Ellie Preston. And Poppy Mayberry.”
Great. What did I do now?
Chapter Eleven
“Logan! Sam!” I shouted as they entered the library, motioning to two empty chairs next to me. “Over here.”
“Over here, guys!” I heard Ellie yell from the other side of the room.
I turned around to see her arms vigorously waving. Ugh. And she had changed her outfit. In pink from head to toe, she looked like a skinny little flamingo trying to take off in flight. Logan looked at her, and then at me. He took the seat next to mine. I sent a friendly little smirk Ellie’s way.
&nbs
p; Sam took the seat next to her. By his reaction when she entered Nova History class, I kind of figured he would.
“What do you think this is about?” Logan asked.
I shrugged.
The door crashed behind us as Headmistress Larriby scuffled down the center aisle. She looked like a giant eggplant. Again, her too-tight purple dress hugged her body in all the wrong places, and she had a funny-looking poufy green scarf tied around her neck. I knew that was too tight, too, because a skin roll hung over it. Yuck.
Mr. Grimeley followed close behind. His hair was slicked down with so much gel that it looked like gray paint was melting off his head. I laughed inside a little.
Larriby stopped in the center of the room and positioned herself in what looked like a football tackle stance. Then she wedged a fat finger between the green fabric and her neck. The scarf must have been cutting off circulation. She cleared her throat. “It seems that we have had a security breach here at Power Academy,” her manly voice boomed as if we were seated a mile back, rather than two feet in front of her.
“That’s not our problem!” Sam retorted, wiping from his cheek a bit of talk-spit that flew out of Mrs. Larriby’s matching eggplant-purple lipstick-stained mouth.
Headmistress Larriby took a step forward and stared at him coldly. She was in his face now. “Actually, Mr. Bricker, it is your problem.” I chuckled again inside as more spittle flew from her lips and onto his face. Poor Sam. That was gross.
She took a step back and then addressed us all. “It seems that sometime over the course of today, someone gained access to your private rooms.”
“I know I locked my door on the way out this morning,” Ellie said, looking at me. The way she emphasized the my and neglected to acknowledge that the room belonged to me, too, kind of ticked me off.
Shoot! Did I lock the door after I went up there on break? I thought back and knew for a fact that I at least shut the door. But had I locked it? It would have been as simple as turning the little lock on the kno—