School of Secrets (The Perkins School for Self Improvement #1)

Chapter 23

The rest of that week seems to fly by, with my friends and me trying to figure out the meaning of the prophecy while wondering about Marco's plans.

By Saturday night, we're no closer to answers, and I've realized that the date from Lauren's note is exactly a week away.

I meet Tara outside the gate, but I'm preoccupied. I listen to her enthusiastic account of the new art assignment, inserting comments when necessary. Not even her detailed review of the newest Star Wars movie can hold my attention.

I'm almost relieved when it's time for her to go. When she's gone, there's less of a chance that someone else will find out about her secret, less of a threat that the information will end up in the wrong hands.

"Next week," I tell Tara before she can teleport away, "something ... we think something's going to go down. It's supposed to happen Saturday, but I'm hoping I'll still be able to meet you. Come at the usual time, and stay right here. If I don't show up within ten minutes, leave. I don't know what's going to happen and I don't want to take a chance that I might be somewhere else when you get here. If I'm not here and you stick around for too long, someone might spot you."

"Got it, bro!" Tara grins, giving me a thumbs up.

"Don't do that," I grimace, "it makes you seem even dorkier than you really are."

She rolls her eyes.

"Oh please, what would you do without me and my dorkiness?"

I snort, trying and failing to stifle my laughter.

Tara shoots me another smile.

"I knew it!" she says, "You'd be lost without me."

"Of course I would, sis." I tell her, and I truly mean it.

~*~

The next week is filled with more conversations revolving around Marco, Yumi, and the prophecy. Prefect applications are due by lunch on Wednesday, and everyone seems to know it. The lunch line conversations seem to have a common thread. I ignore most of them, though the words of the group of juniors in front of me catch my attention.

"Why does she even have to run?" one girl is asking, "I mean, everyone knows Yumi's got a strong ability. Man, if I had mind control skills, I'd just convince everyone that I was the right choice. No one could question me. Gosh, sometimes I hate being normal."

"She wasn't allowed to do that," a guy tells her, "I sort of know the chick. We talk sometimes, and she told me that her family wouldn't respect that. Her grandfather says she can't use her abilities to earn anything school-related, because neither of her sisters did."

"I'd do it anyway," the girl decides, "it's not like the old man would find out how she got the spot."

The dude shrugs.

"It's dishonest," he says, "wouldn't you rather win because you deserve it, not because you made everyone think you did?"

His companion doesn't answer, stepping up in line to grab two slices of pizza and a bottle of water.

They've given me something to think about, and for a majority of lunch I'm wondering if the rest of Yumi's family is as awful as she is.

~*~

The following Saturday begins with rain and freezing temperatures, and if this is any indicator I'm pretty sure I'll hate the winters here in Maine.

Breakfast is an uneventful affair, though someone from my table has their eye on Marco and Yumi at all times. The duo seems to be starting off the day like any other, eating their oatmeal while talking about goodness only knows what. Marco keeps one arm draped over her shoulders in that possessive way he has, and I vaguely wonder how he manages to keep it in the same position all through breakfast.