Poppy Mayberry, the Monday

by Jennie Brown

  “You are unbelievable,” Ellie said sharply, whipping her head toward me. Her whole Thursday mind-reading thing was getting on my nerves. “Ugh.” She sighed, straightened her hair back out, and rolled her eyes. I determined at this point that the eye-rolling thing was pretty much her favorite facial gesture—especially regarding me.

  “Whoever entered your rooms obviously wanted to get something personal to you,” Mrs. Larriby continued while glancing quickly at Mr. Grimeley. “With that being said,” she cleared her throat, “each of your personal treasures has been stolen.” Right after Mrs. Larriby uttered those words, I swore there was smile forming on her face.

  “Are you trying to tell me that someone stole my bracelet?” Ellie shrieked, fanning her hands in front of her face.

  Mr. Grimeley handed Mrs. Larriby a sheet of paper. “I am saying, that someone stole not only that, but …” She looked down at the tattered notebook in front of her. “A soccer ball.”

  “Hey! That was autographed!” Logan shouted.

  “A clarinet.” I assumed that it must have been Sam’s. A cowboy hat and glasses-wearing-mischievous-clarinet-playing Wednesday. That boy was certainly full of surprises.

  Headmistress Larriby’s eyebrows curved in. “And a favorite … pickle?” But Larriby phrased this last one more like a question than a statement and looked at me with disgust.

  Before we came to Power Academy we had to send in an information form. The name of our one personal belonging had to be approved before we started classes for the summer, so they definitely knew what our items were. Well, kind of. Mine simply said pickle. Okay, so maybe I hadn’t been quite clear on the information sheet about the fact that Pickle was kind of a living, furry, barking thing, not a cucumber-vinegar mixture. Whoops!

  And then it sunk in. Pickle was missing. Gone. Someone had stolen her. I could very possibly never see her again.

  But as terrible as it could be, and as upset as I should have been, I had a nagging feeling that something seemed off about this whole situation. Larriby was way too calm. If there were really some sort of person going around this academy stealing things, why wouldn’t Larriby be more concerned?

  “Ooookkaaay,” Ellie shouted. “So, you’re telling me that my bracelet is, like, gone for real and forever?” Ellie hyperventilated a little, just seconds away from tearing up.

  “What are you gonna do about it?” Logan asked with eyes glaring at the two adults in front of us.

  Shouldn’t they have had the answer? They called us into this meeting in the first place.

  Ellie reached into her jumbo purse. “I’m calling my mother,” she said, pulling her pink rhinestone phone from it.

  We all knew that cell phones weren’t allowed. But it seemed that, once again, Ellie felt that she was the exception to the rule. Mr. Grimeley’s hand flew up and his index finger pointed directly to the glittering phone. In a matter of seconds, it flew from Ellie’s grasp and crashed into a bookcase. Hundreds of pink plastic flecks fell to the floor below like sparkly confetti. He was really good.

  “My phone!” she cried.

  “No one is calling anybody,” Headmistress Larriby said. Actually, she more like demanded this. What the heck was going on?

  Mr. Grimeley stepped forward. “This is getting a little out of hand,” he whispered into Larriby’s ear. Since we all could hear him, it wasn’t really a whisper.

  “Fine!” Her eyes again burned into his, and then they turned toward us. “I guess enough is enough,” she said angrily, like this was entirely our fault or something.

  We looked at one another, confused. Ellie’s sobs died down to a few sniffles.

  “Your items are safe and sound.” Her creased face made it seem like she was in pain saying this. She liked toying with us. But this was good news for the four of us.

  “Then why would you tell us they were stolen?” Sam stood up so forcefully his chair crashed backward. Two lamps on a reading desk flickered on and off a few times—he was not happy at all. None of us were.

  Ellie’s foot stomped not-so-delicately on the floor. “What is going on?” Her eyes darted over to what was left of her demolished phone.

  “Yeah,” we all said simultaneously. We wanted answers, and we wanted them now.

  She motioned for everyone to sit back down. We hesitantly did. “While you all were in your Power Intensive classes this morning, Mr. Grimeley and I retrieved your items from your rooms.”

  Headmistress Larriby towered over me. A chunk roll was practically in my face. “I was unaware that Pickle was a measly little dog,” she spat.

  I thought about poor Pickle and how she would be without me.

  Mrs. Larriby’s eyes shot to me. “Oh, she’s perfectly safe, Poppy. Stop obsessing,” she said, brushing me off and reading my mind.

  “Get to the point, please,” Logan demanded, taking Larriby’s attention away from me. Whew. I sent a thank-you smile his direction.

  She gave a long hard sigh. “Let’s just say, we want to give you all a chance to prove to us that you don’t need to be here.”

  “Go on,” Logan said, leaning forward. Some strands of hair fell into his face, and he brushed them away with the back of his hand. Part of me wanted to take a pair of scissors and just cut those hairs right off.

  “Each year, we are required by Nova’s Mayor Masters (nose-picking Mark’s mom) to choose a group of Weekdays who we feel are already a bit ahead of the game.” She rolled her eyes on the required part and then whispered something to Grimeley. I got the feeling that if it were up to Mrs. Larriby, no one would be given the chance to prove anything, and we would be stuck here with her forever.

  “And?” Logan interrupted angrily.

  Headmistress Larriby shot him the death stare. “And, as I said before, we are told to give you the opportunity to prove to us that you don’t really need to be here.” She looked back toward Mr. Grimeley and smirked. Her head whipped back around. “But it’s up to me, as Power Academy’s head mistress, to decide how you prove that.”

  That explained the stealing of our stuff. Was that even legal?

  “But why us?” Ellie asked, with her foot rapping quickly on the floor below.

  Mrs. Larriby hesitantly looked at Mr. Grimeley once again. His eyes burned into hers as they made facial gestures back and forth. It was almost like they were communicating through their minds without the need for words or whispers. Strange.

  The expressions on the faces of Ellie, Logan, and Sam told me that they caught the awkwardness too.

  Finally, Mrs. Larriby sighed. “Poppy, your little, uh … What should I call it,” she paused, “display on opening night told me you have potential,” she said through a grimace.

  I couldn’t help but smile. Remembering Mrs. Larriby landing on her butt in front of everyone last night was priceless. And I was so close in my Monday class today that I knew I wasn’t completely hopeless.

  She looked toward Ellie. “I know you’re only here because you take advantage of your power. Show me you can keep it under control and not use it All of the time.”

  Then she looked at Logan. “And, you, Mr. Prince. Let’s put your little disappearing act to the test, shall we?”

  To the test? What was she talking about?

  “I came up with a little challenge.” She smirked at Mr. Grimeley once again. “Working together,” she said, her fat finger wiggling back and forth between Ellie and me in particular, “and using your weekday powers, you have to find your precious little belongings, and bring them to me.”

  “How long do we have?” I asked.

  “As long as it takes,” she sneered, and then a sinister smile formed across her face. “The longer it takes, the longer you’ll be stuck here. With me.”

  Ugh.

  Sam used his Wednesday power and flicked the lights on and off a few more times. “What do you mean? As long as it takes.” He imitated her manly voice on the last sentence.

 
“Exactly what I said. As. Long. As. It. Takes,” she emphasized each word and glared at Sam. “If you can even find your precious belongings at all, that is.”

  I gulped.

  “If you find your belongings and successfully return them to me and Mr. Grimeley here,” at the mention of his name, Grimeley snorted and his nose hair forest wiggled, “you will have the opportunity to leave early.” She paused and readjusted the scarf choking her neck. “That’s a big If!”

  Her fat finger pointed to me. “I believe you’d like to be lounging around some pool with a certain friend of yours.”

  Ugh. Stupid Thursdays and their mind-reading power.

  “And if we don’t find the stuff?”

  Mrs. Larriby smirked at Mr. Grimeley. “Then you’re stuck at Power Academy for the rest of the summer, and you may even have to return next year.” Her chin jiggled again as she let out a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West-like cackle and opened the door. “I have been forced to give a promising group of students this opportunity for the last five years, and not once has anyone been able to leave early.” She showed those revolting teeth to us and continued, “And I intend to keep it that way. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you kids. Good luh-uh-ck,” she sang sarcastically, and the door shut behind her wiggly butt.

  Okay, that whole butt thing was pretty mean of me to have thought, but I felt completely justified. That was one nasty woman.

  It was then that I realized that Ellie was not the one to hate—Headmistress Larriby was. And we would show her.

  I turned to my team. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ellie literally threw her purse as hard as she could on the bed. Lip gloss, nail polish, a nail file, and the debris that was once her cell phone flew out and all over her pink duvet cover. “How does that … that … woman expect us to work through our classes, master our powers, and find our stuff?” she asked, fuming so much I swear smoke was about to blow out of her ears. I imagined that actually happening and chuckled.

  “I guess we just have to come up with a plan.”

  During my last classes of the day, all I could think about was the challenge Headmistress Larriby proposed. I’d been trying to get a plan together all afternoon, but knew that we needed help from the boys.

  Ignoring my plan suggestion, Ellie rustled through her bag full of nail polish and grabbed out an awful arrest-me-now yellow bottle. “I mean, really? Who does that woman think she is?” she asked, painting away and totally missing her fingernails in the process. “I even wonder if Mayor Masters knows that this is the way she challenges her students. Hiding our stuff? And the first week, no less! Really? Wait until I tell my father!” She slammed the nail polish down on her dresser. “That woman just likes to torment people. Unbelievable!” she rambled.

  I just let her vent. Her thoughts were pretty much the same as mine. For all I knew, she was reading them right out of my head. But even though I had ideas flying all around up there at like a million miles a minute, I seemed totally calm compared to the uber-stressed, red-faced Ellie. Pickle was at stake, not some inanimate object like, say, an expensive silly bracelet, so I needed to stay focused. Plus, Bff Veronica and I had that awesome summer planned. We needed to figure out where our things were and get the heck out of this messed-up Power Academy. There was no time to act crazy-stressed.

  “So let’s start brainstorming,” I said, surprisingly levelheaded, and grabbed a notebook and my favorite purple pen from the tote at the foot of the bed sitting right next to Pickle’s travel den. Poor Pickle was probably lost without me.

  Ellie put the cap back on the polish and blew at her fingertips. In a matter of minutes, her face had gone from fire engine red to a light pink hue. That whole nail-painting thing must be pretty therapeutic for her.

  “Old Lady Larriby said that we need to work together as a group, so we should probably get the guys over here like A-sap,” she said while blowing on her fingernails.

  “You know the rules, though. No boys in a girl’s room and no girls in a boy’s room.”

  We made eye contact and nodded in agreement just like we read each other’s minds. Rules or no rules, we needed their help. We had to get to them. Plus, Headmistress Larriby said that we had to prove ourselves while working together. Not apart. How would she expect us to do that without being together?

  I glanced at the bright red flashing clock and saw that it was a little after eight-thirty. That meant that it was dorm-room time. If we quietly sneaked out now, more than likely no one would see us on the guys’ floor. But we had to be real careful about not getting caught. Ugh. This would have been much easier if Ellie and I were invisible Fridays.

  “Okay, Ellie, I have a plan.” I walked over to her bed and moved the rest of the stuff that fell from her purse out of the way. She actually helped me make room.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, shocked by her kind gesture.

  “What-ev,” she said, pushing all hints of kindness away.

  “Do you think Mrs. Larriby is listening in on our thoughts right now?” I whispered.

  “There’s no way she could hear.” Her eyes spastically bounced around the room. “Except, of course, if the room is bugged.”

  My eyes darted around then, too. “I think we’re okay,” I said, satisfied with my quick scan.

  She pushed her hair behind her ears. Two yellow paint streaks stood out against her dark brown locks.

  The giggle came out before I could even stop it.

  She sighed. “For our Thursday power to work right, you have to be within like ten feet of the person whose mind you’re reading. So, there’s no way Old Lady Larriby can hear what we’re up to from way down there in her office.” She smirked. And for once, that smirk wasn’t intended for me. “So, what’s the plan?”

  I leaned away from her, satisfied that no one else could hear our conversation. “Even though we don’t know which room Logan and Sam are in, we know it is one of the eight on the first floor.”

  Ellie nodded and remained quiet, listening to my plan. It was nice to have her actually listen to me for once.

  We made it down the main staircase with no problems. At the base of the stairs we had a perfect view of Headmistress Larriby in her office. She was bent over her desk with her big back toward us. Grrr. What the heck was she doing in there so late anyway? All she would have had to do was turn around and we would totally be trapped.

  I thought about the P.A. handbook we got in the mail a few weeks ago …

  Any student found fraternizing outside of their own dorm room after eight o’ clock will face serious consequences. In addition, any student found fraternizing in a room belonging to the opposite sex will face serious consequences. Punishments could include meal isolation or being locked in the dorm room after socializing hours.

  Prison.

  Nevertheless, we were going to do this.

  I caught Ellie’s eye and pointed to my head.

  She got the signal. On three, I thought. One … two … three. We ran across the large foyer and made it to the downstairs dorm hall without any problems. Headmistress Larriby had no clue. Ellie and I laughed together. Kind of like how friends would.

  “Uck. Not even close to friends,” she spat.

  That hurt. Pushing her remark from my mind I said, “Start listening.”

  Ellie pressed her ear against the first door on the right. “Nope.” Then the second. “Nope, again.” And then the third. “Nope.”

  So much for the whole third time’s a charm thing.

  We got to the fourth door and she gave me thumbs-up. I think I hear Sam, she mouthed. And then I swore she said something about camouflage and reindeer, but I was pretty sure her mouth didn’t move. Weird.

  I balled my hand into a fist, and just as I was about to put it against the door, we both froze. Footsteps. No, more like drag-steps. Definitely the pants-over-shoes shuffling of greasy Mr. Grimeley.

  I gave the door three quic
k raps. Open it, open it, open it. Ellie’s ear was still pressed against the door. “Just a minute,” Sam said.

  Mr. Grimeley’s footsteps got closer and louder. Only a few more feet to go, and he would turn the corner and catch us. There was no way we could ruin our chances of going home early before the first week was even up.

  Just as the drag-steps were about to turn into the hall, the boys’ door flew open and some unseen force propelled me forward. I bumped into Ellie as we both stumbled inside.

  Sam was sitting in the dark, using his finger to read some hunting magazine. That explained the camo comment Ellie had made. Or I thought she made. Again, that boy continued to surprise me. A hunter now?

  Ellie’s eyes scurried around the room. “Where’s Logan?”

  “He went looking for you guys,” Sam answered, still engrossed in his magazine.

  Ellie looked at me with a totally puzzled expression. I smiled and didn’t say a thing, thinking about that unforeseen force that pushed us into the room.

  “We like definitely would have passed him if he were looking for us,” Ellie said.

  I spun around. “I know you’re here, Logan,” I teased. And just like that, Logan reappeared in front of our eyes. He was even better with his powers than I thought. That would definitely help our chances.

  “Had the same idea as you girls.” He smirked, plopped down next to Sam, and pushed hair out of his bright eyes that were looking directly into mine. For some reason I felt my cheeks grow warm as I smiled back.

  I was in the room for about ten seconds, which was long enough to notice that it smelled like … well … boy. Instead of the sweet (sarcastic) smell of nail polish, dust, and cat litter, this room reeked of sweat and socks. And we had only been here a day. Gross. Boys are just … gross … most of the time at least. And how the heck did they already have a two-foot high pile of dirty laundry in the corner? Boys.

  Ellie and I sat down on Logan’s bed. The guys were facing us. There was this kind of weird silence as we just stared. I had never been in such a tiny space with boys. Without an adult around that is. And we were really breaking P.A. rules.