‘Because I can’t afford the clothes in Apparel,’ Jenna replied. ‘Not that I’d ever want any of them. And you know what? I don’t buy that business, about Amanda feeling sorry for people. She’s a selfish snob and she never thinks about anyone but herself.’
‘That’s not true,’ Tracey said. ‘When she had my body, she did a lot for me. She got my parents to pay attention to me. She bought me decent clothes, she got me a haircut. .’
Jenna snorted. ‘Only because she was afraid she’d be stuck being you for ever.’
Tracey wasn’t so sure about that. Even though she hadn’t been aware of Amanda’s intentions when Amanda was inhabiting her body, she couldn’t help feeling the girl might have had some kind motives. She was about to tell Jenna this when she noticed that Jenna was staring at Amanda in a particular way that Tracey recognized.
‘Are you reading her mind?’ Tracey asked.
‘Yeah, she’s thinking about trying on the skirt in the window. Thrilling, huh?’ But then her expression changed. ‘Whoa, wait a second.’
‘What is it?’ Emily asked.
‘She’s got a secret. It’s. . it’s something to do with, with. .’ she squinted in her effort to concentrate. Then her eyes widened in surprise. ‘She’s thinking about Mr Jackson!’
Tracey was startled. ‘As in Principal Jackson?’
‘What kind of secret could she have about Mr Jackson?’ Emily wanted to know.
They weren’t going to find out — at least, not that day. Amanda spotted them.
‘Damn, she’s learned how to block me too,’ Jenna muttered.
Tracey laughed. ‘What did you think she’d do? “Hi, Jenna, welcome to my private thoughts.”’ She smiled at Amanda, but all she got back was a blink of recognition before Amanda moved hurriedly away, with Nina and Britney at her heels.
‘She really is a snob,’ Emily remarked. ‘She won’t even speak to us.’
‘It’s just because she’s with her friends,’ Tracey said. ‘She knows Nina would say something nasty to us. I think she’s trying to protect us from being insulted.’
Both Jenna and Emily gazed at her as if she was out of her mind.
‘Why are you always defending her?’ Jenna asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Tracey sighed. ‘I guess I can’t help thinking there’s something good in Amanda.’ The expressions of disbelief on her friends’ faces remained intact, so she changed the subject.
She turned to Emily. ‘Got any predictions to make?’
‘About what?’ Emily asked.
‘Anything.’
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Emily said. ‘I have to be thinking about something in particular.’
‘Think about me,’ Jenna suggested. ‘Is anything interesting going to happen to me this week?’
Obediently, Emily looked at Jenna in that peculiarly dreamy way she took on when she was trying to get an image of the future. Her eyes glazed over.
‘Well?’ Jenna asked impatiently. ‘Can you see me?’
‘Yes.’ Emily’s brow furrowed. ‘With. . with a knife in your hand.’
‘Good grief!’ Tracey exclaimed. ‘Is she pointing it at someone?’
‘No. She’s just holding a knife.’
Tracey looked at Jenna worriedly. After all, her friend did have a reputation. When she’d first come to Meadowbrook straight from some sort of place for delinquent teens, she’d been observed with trepidation by students and teachers.
Jenna just shrugged. ‘That makes sense.’
‘It does?’ Emily asked. Now she was looking nervously at Jenna too.
Jenna nodded. ‘I’m fixing dinner tonight, and I’m making tuna salad. I’ll be chopping onions, celery, carrots. . yeah, I guess I’ll be holding a knife for at least half an hour.’
Tracey immediately felt guilty for having even considered that Jenna might be planning to do something criminal with a knife. Jenna didn’t hang with gangs any more, and even though she retained her tough-girl demeanour, she hadn’t been in any serious trouble. Tracey was absolutely, positively, no-doubt-about-it certain that Jenna had completely reformed.
Still, it was reassuring to know that Jenna’s knife would be used for strictly non-violent purposes.
CHAPTER TWO
WHAT A DIFFERENCE a few months could make, Jenna thought as she strolled into Room 209 on Monday afternoon. She remembered the first day she’d entered this classroom, and how angry, depressed and scared she’d been. She’d just been let out of that place she’d been sent to after her arrest for drug possession. Harmony House. . a fancy name for what was really a jail for teenagers. She’d been taken away from home and forced to spend three months with thieves, gang leaders, addicts. . when her only real crime had been hanging with people like that.
Not that home was such a great place to be either. Her mother was rarely there, and when she was at home, she was drunk. Welfare cheques were spent on booze and who-knew-what-else, and Jenna could recall many nights when she went to bed hungry.
So release from Harmony House wasn’t any great relief. She went back to Brookside Towers, the nasty low-income housing development she’d been living in with her mother for two years. Her mother was still drinking, still partying. The apartment was a mess, her life was a mess, and she had to keep that fact a secret from the social workers or she’d be sent into foster care.
By order of the judge, Jenna had been transferred to this school, Meadowbrook, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had to report to a school counsellor every week. But the counsellor, Mr Gonzalez, wasn’t such a bad guy. He didn’t know about Jenna’s ability to read minds, but he must have suspected there was something uniquely odd about her because he sent her to see Madame. Jenna had been furious — she’d been branded as a ‘problem’ again and now she had to attend a ‘special’ class with other problem students.
So the first time she entered this classroom, she was in a very bad mood. The so-called ‘Gifted’ class could only make her already wretched life even worse.
But then things began to turn around for her. Aspects of her life started to improve. Her mother went into a rehab programme, and now she’d been sober for over a month. She’d got a job too.
Even her home was better. The residents of Brookside Towers were demanding long-overdue improvements to the estate, and the local government was actually responding.
And the Gifted class turned out to be nothing like what she’d expected. Her classmates weren’t ‘problems’ — not in the traditional sense. They had ‘gifts’ too. And despite her usual efforts to remain aloof and disagreeable, Jenna found herself fitting in — and even making friends. It wasn’t in Jenna’s nature to show her feelings or admit them to anyone, but deep in her heart she knew she was as close to being happy as she’d ever been.
Not that she was great friends with all her classmates. She glanced at Martin Cooper, who sat over by the windows. He was looking at her right now with fear in his eyes.
‘You’d better not be reading my mind,’ he said to her in an accusing tone.
Jenna shook her head wearily. The little wimp couldn’t even figure out how to block her. He was the eternal victim, always expecting to be picked on and bullied. His only satisfaction came when he was teased so much that his gift emerged — and an incredible physical strength made him capable of causing serious damage.
‘Out of my way,’ barked a voice behind her. Jenna stayed right where she was, knowing full well that Charles Temple could easily manoeuvre his wheelchair around her. She wondered if being unable to walk was the reason he could be so aggressive and argumentative. She assumed it was the source of his gift — telekinesis — the ability to make things move with his mind.