“Rude, much? Veronica said with an eye roll. “And how long have we been friends with Mark?”
I thought of the many times Veronica had not-so-subtly called Mark out on his, ahem, nose-picking habit.
“I didn’t realize you considered him a friend,” I said, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she said snarkily, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Nothing. Just forget about it,” I said, hoping she would. Ever since Ellie started hanging out with us, Veronica’s been even more touchy than usual.
“I have to go,” she spat, turning to walk in the opposite direction. “Say hi to your bff Ellie for me.” Her black combat-style boots stomped away.
Before I even had the chance to yell after her, Veronica had turned the corner and made her way out of sight. That was not the way I wanted to leave my best friend before six weeks away at Power Academy.
Now, that same creeper guy from Novalicious was here at Power Academy. I glanced at Clothes-too-tight Larriby just in time to see a scowl form on her face. Whoever this man was, she was not happy to see him. The mysterious man walked straight up to the stage and leaned in close to Larriby. Her face contorted into an even bigger frown as he whispered in her ear.
“Come on,” Logan said, glancing in my direction. “Use your Thursday skills, Poppy. Larriby looks mad.”
I concentrated really hard on Headmistress Larriby. I wanted to see what she was thinking of this guy’s comments. Typically when I did this, a few words flew through my head here and there and it was easy to get the gist of somebody’s thoughts. But right now, I got nothing but static.
“Well?”
“Nothing,” I said with a frown. “Too many other weekday thoughts flying around. It’s distracting.”
The strange man drew back from Larriby and then proceeded to walk back up the aisle in our direction. As he reached the row where I sat, his eyes caught mine just like they did at Novalicious.
“I wish he’d just go away,” I whispered to Logan.
By the grimace on Headmistress Larriby’s face, she didn’t want him here, either.
Chapter Four
I brushed off the whole N.P.C. creeper dude incidents and headed to my dorm room to unpack some of my stuff. Ellie was already settled in.
“Did you really have to take the good bed again?” I asked with a smirk. Last summer she had commandeered the better of everything. Some things never change.
Ellie’s bed was a perfect combo of soft and hard. My bed was lopsided and lumpy. Ellie’s desk faced the window overlooking a cute little garden. My desk faced the dirty red brick wall. Ellie’s dresser had seven perfectly working drawers. Two of the drawers in my bureau didn’t even close the whole way—my underwear was exposed to anyone who walked into our room. I started opening and shutting her dresser drawers with my mind, laughing along with each push.
“Do you mind?” Ellie asked with a smile. She nodded quickly to the left and the drawers slammed shut. I kind of liked it when she only had the mind-reading power. The added telekinesis thing could get on my nerves.
“Has anyone talked to you about what we are going to be doing?” I asked.
Ellie plopped herself down on the fluorescent pink comforter. She grabbed a magazine from her pink bag and started flipping through the pages. This was much more important than some article about which shoes to wear with which shade of lipstick (yes, I totally used my Thursday power to see what article Ellie was reading).
I rolled my eyes. “Well, maybe Logan knows more than you.”
“Oooh. Looogan,” she said, puckering her lips. The mention of Logan seemed to get her attention.
Now it was my turn to ignore her, and I went back to stuffing clothes in my non-functioning drawers.
“Nobody has said anything. So why did we even agree to do this?”
She smirked. We both knew the reason.
“Oh, yeah. The money!”
It was totally for the money. Unless your parents are nice enough to give an allowance, which mine aren’t, you can’t even buy a cone at Novalicious without it. When Mayor Masters told us that we’d be paid 200 bucks for six weeks of working with powerless weekdays, I couldn’t turn it down.
“It will be a good lesson in fiscal responsibility,” my father had said over dinner after I’d agreed to the job, giving my mom an aww-she’s-getting-so-big kind of smile. But I didn’t know how responsible I wanted to be with it.
“What are you gonna do with the money?” Ellie asked, breaking my train of thought and obviously reading my mind.
“Not really sure, yet. But I have a few ideas.” I looked down at Pickle and thought about a tiny dog carrier I had seen at Nova Pets-R-Us. It had purple and white stripes and a plush, fluffy lining on the base—it was absolutely perfect for my little Pickle.
“Well, I certainly hope you’re not going to buy anything for that tiny critter you call a dog,” she said, scooping Pickle up and gently petting her head. Pickle sighed and nuzzled closer to Ellie.
It was crazy to think that a year ago, Ellie would have made that tiny critter remark just to upset me—and she would have meant it—but now, here she was, bonding with little Pickle. I smiled at her, thinking about how she used to literally kick Pickle away from her, and then I smiled even harder thinking about how far we’d come in our friendship.
Knock, knock, knock I heard on our door.
“It’s Sam and Logan,” Ellie said, pulling herself up into perfect Ellie Preston posture. She tossed the latest Teen Weekday Magazine back into her oversized pink bag.
“Hey guys!” I said, letting them in and shutting the door. It barely closed behind Sam’s giant cowboy hat. Seriously, the boy never takes that thing off. I smiled after noticing he still wore that camouflage jacket—too funny. Ellie noticed it too. Before I knew it, her arms were wrapped around Sam.
“Ouch,” Ellie squealed as the brim of Sam’s cowboy hat banged her head. Ellie’s cheeks turned pink; she was so crushing on Sam.
“Well, we got the four-one-one on the whole camp counselor situation,” Logan said.
“Well, it’s about time,” I said, pulling Pickle onto my lap. She leaned her head down so I could scratch behind her left ear. Such a furry spoiled princess, and I was so glad I had permission to bring her back this year. Larriby totally owed me, after all.
“And?” Ellie said. She looked at Sam and patted the comforter next to her. He got the hint and sat down.
“Well, apparently, they need a bit of help in the power intensive classes this year,” Sam said excitedly. “There are some really weak weekdays.”
“Say that five times fast,” Logan said.
Our eyes met and we laughed. Sam and Ellie rolled their eyes. Obviously, Logan and I had a superior sense of humor.
“Heard that,” Ellie said, scooching closer to Sam.
The power intensive classes were held twice a day for an hour. It was a time devoted entirely to developing specific weekday powers. Last summer I was in Miss Maggie’s Monday power intensive class. At the beginning of the summer, I could barely lift a pencil without taking out someone’s eye, but by the end of our short stay, I could pull wooden planks from buildings, move one hundred pound bookcases, and effortlessly brush Pickle without even lifting a finger.
“Did they say anything about the dual power thing? Like when we are gonna find out more about them?” Ellie asked.
“Nothing about that in particular, but they did mention that we should still keep the whole thing under wraps,” Logan said. He pushed a few strands of hair from his face. I sighed. Maybe I had a bit of a crush on him, but he’s the one who kissed my cheek on the last day of camp last summer.
Ellie sent me a knowing smirk.
I still couldn’t understand why we still had to be so secretive about the cusp powers considering our parents, all of our teachers, and Mayor Masters knew. And yeah, we have two po
wers, and everyone else has one. What was the big deal?
“Larriby and Grimeley want to meet with us in ten minutes to discuss our roles here,” Sam said. “In more detail,” he added, mocking Grimeley’s nasally voice.
“Picks, you stay here,” I said, rubbing her belly. “And don’t you get yourself lost this year.”
We entered the library again, but this time, I took a moment to look around. Things definitely looked different. Last year, the entire place was crumbling in on itself. Torn wallpaper hung from the walls; the chandelier had about three bulbs burnt out; and there were gaps on shelves where books should have been.
Now, there wasn’t a single open space in the cases. The overhead chandelier had been replaced with a more modern, working one with dangling glass pendants that sparkled in the light. The old green and maroon wallpaper had been stripped off and replaced with a coat of light blue paint, similar to the color that my and Ellie’s dorm room had been painted.
I remembered my dad mentioning something about Nova Power Corporation donating some money to Power Academy because of the new, shared location. I was glad the library looked nicer since we would end up spending so much time meeting here.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering exactly why you’re here,” we heard Mayor Masters say from the back of the room. She walked down the center aisle and took a position up front next to Clothes-too-tight Larriby. I could see where her daughter Miss Maggie Masters got her skinny frame. Mayor Masters stood next to the big-boned Larriby in a fitted navy suit with navy heels to match. She was the epitome of business chic. As mayor, I guess that’s part of her job.
Ellie, Sam, and I found our seats at the front of the library. Since everyone in the room knew about cusp powers, Logan teleported to the seat next to me. Show-off.
“I’m sure Headmistress Larriby filled you in on the smaller details of your job here, but I just wanted to outline the expectations a bit more.” Even though Mayor Masters said this with a smile, there was a serious undertone to her words.
“Your roles have changed a bit from what we previously envisioned,” she continued. “In fact, you will be taking on a more creative role these next few weeks.”
A more creative role? When we’d been asked to paint using our powers in last summer’s Power intensive class, I’d accidentally made a blue-stained paintbrush smack my friend in the butt. That disaster and the self-portrait I made at Nova Middle were the most creative I’d been in the last year. In my portrait, I’d made my hair appear even puffier and brighter orange than it did in real life (if that’s even possible) because I couldn’t get the right ratio of red and yellow. Mrs. Sharple gave me a C-minus on that assignment, which I thought was totally harsh. Needless to say, art was definitely not my forte.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” Mayor Masters continued. “You will still serve as mentors to the developing weekdays, but there will be an additional challenge to your weeks.”
Suddenly, the double doors behind us slammed. The four of us turned our heads to notice a man—the creepy Nova Power Corporation man to be exact—swiftly walking in our direction. Why was he even here?
Logan leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Shouldn’t he be next door at N.P.C.?”
Mayor Masters nodded toward Headmistress Larriby, who took over. “I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. Harold Fluxnut,” Larriby said, lacking any ounce of enthusiasm. She raised her hand toward the creepy N.P.C. dude to her left. “Unfortunately, Mr. Grimeley has taken a job outside of Power Academy so he will not be with us this year.” Headmistress Larriby frowned as she spoke, and I noticed Mayor Masters smirk.
Darn! Ellie thought to me, sarcastically.
I didn’t expect this. Larriby and Grimeley were practically attached at the hip. Greasy Grimeley must have found a good gig elsewhere.
Mr. Fluxnut curled his lips in a half-smile, revealing a series of yellow, crooked teeth. What was up with people and their odd facial features at Power Academy?
Mayor Masters stepped forward and spoke. “Although he spends most of his days working in the technology department at Nova Power Corporation next door, Mr. Fluxnut has a fond interest in the arts. Therefore, he has volunteered his time this summer to assist us in our theatrical efforts here at Power Academy.” From the looks of him, I found it hard to believe.
Headmistress Larriby stepped forward, closer to us than Mayor Masters. “This past fall, Mayor Masters … I mean, I, asked Mr. Fluxnut to join our staff as the new director of the creative arts program.”
Ellie and I looked at each other. What was she talking about? Since when was there a creative arts program at Power Academy?
“What creative arts program?” Sam asked, taking the words out of my mouth. Out of the four of us, Sam was definitely the least creative. He’d much rather spend his time hunting, fishing, or camping than anything remotely related to the creative arts.
Ellie and I shrugged in unison.
“We decided that there isn’t enough creative freedom of expression here at Power Academy. And the last thing we want our students to think is that they are trapped in a power prison.”
Without looking at Ellie, I heard her think, that’s what we thought of this place at the beginning of last summer.
No kidding.
“Okay, now that the introductions are over, what is it you want us to do?” Sam spoke forcefully. I’ve always appreciated his straightforwardness.
“This summer, in addition to assisting your assigned weekday mentee, your time will be spent working with Mr. Fluxnut on Power Academy’s debut production.”
I rolled my eyes. She had to be kidding. Production only meant one thing—a play.
“Wait? A play?” Ellie squealed. “I’ve always wanted to star in a Broadway show.”
I chuckled. Power Academy was far from Broadway. Ellie turned toward me, and a giant smile took over her entire face. I remembered back to the fall production at Nova Middle. Mrs. Flannagan directed The Pirates of Penzance and totally cut Ellie from the first round of auditions. Ellie brushed it off saying, “I never really wanted to act in some stupid middle school play anyway,” but I knew, deep down, that she was really disappointed—I read the disappointment right out of her head.
Unlike Ellie though, I was not so thrilled; I thought we’d be helping the powerless weekdays master their powers. Logan frowned. I didn’t have to read the boys’ minds to know that they felt the same way I did.
“So, what’s the play?” I asked, feigning interest. I didn’t want to spoil Ellie’s excitement.
“Would you like to tell them, Mr. Fluxnut?” Larriby said, stepping aside.
The man spoke. I don’t know what exactly I expected him to sound like, but it was nothing like the voice that came out of his mouth. “I would love to tell them, Mrs. Larriby,” he said in the most dramatic, flamboyant, high-pitched tone I’d ever heard come from the mouth of a grown man.
Mr. Fluxnut absolutely beamed now—a complete 180 from the creepy behavior I’d remembered from Novalicious. “This year, you will be performing Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I wanted to choose something magical with whimsy because of our purpose here at Power Academy,” he continued. “And when Mayor Masters, er, Headmistress Larriby, asked me to use my talents for the benefit of the wannabe weekdays, I simply had to say yes. Yes. yes!”
Was this guy for real? First, I was certain this was the mc-creepster that Veronica and I had seen at Novalicious just a few days ago skulking in the corner. This was also the same man who obviously frightened Clothes-too-tight Larriby earlier today. And now, here he was drama-ing it up. When I spotted him at Novalicious, I figured he was a mind-reading Thursday, but now I wasn’t so sure. After all, for the last three minutes I’d been sending him thoughts of Pickle’s poo, and he hadn’t turned up his nose once.
Ellie elbow-jabbed my side. “Stop, please,” she said, turning up hers.
&nbs
p; At least someone was reading my thoughts.
“Okay, so obviously, I will play the lead,” Ellie said, flicking a few strands of dark brown hair behind her shoulders. Her posture straightened.
“Naturally, this is something for the students of Power Academy,” Mr. Fluxnut said. “They are the ones here to master their powers.” His voice lowered. “Not. You.” And just as quickly as his voice dropped, it went right back up. “You will get a role of some kind, but your main purpose is to help the … powerless develop their skills.”
I thought we’d simply be working with the students during the power intensive classes, but now we were expected to direct them through their weekday power through a play. Ugh.
Headmistress Larriby stepped in front of the N.P.C. guy. “Of course, you remember last year’s challenge.” She avoided our eyes as she spoke. And it was no wonder. Even though it’d been a year, all four of us still hadn’t totally forgiven Clothes-too-tight Larriby and Greasy Grimeley for the challenge last year. Who steals a precious dog? I smiled, knowing that at least Pickle was probably curled up in her fluffy purple bed, safely dreaming away.
“Each of you will be working with one hopeful yet powerless weekday. You will rehearse with them and practice their power with them, and it is your duty to make sure they are fully prepared to show off their newfound ability when the show debuts at the end of the six-week program.
“But you must remember one thing,” Mr. Fluxnut continued, his voice suddenly becoming serious. “Nobody can know about your dual powers. It’s imperative that you continue to keep this to yourself.”
“Why is it so imperative?” asked Sam, mocking Mr. Fluxnut’s emphasis. Mr. Fluxnut squinted his little, beady eyes.
Headmistress Larriby jumped in. “Because it’s come to our attention that someone in the Nova community—probably a Saturday or Sunday—has been …” I turned around to see Mayor Masters’s head shaking vigorously from side to side. I looked back to the front of the room where Larriby slumped her shoulders, looking uncomfortable. “Well, never mind. Just keep it to yourself, just as you’ve been doing this past year.”
Poppy Mayberry, Return to Power Academy Page 2