James Patterson - Two Schools Out - Forever

"Sorry, Max," said Gazzy, sounding almost sincere.

Inside, I understood why they'd done it. I even wished I'd been able to see the headhunter's face when he'd found out about it. But this stunt had been totally uncool. And dangerous.

"Listen, you two," I said sternly, as we crested a ridge and found ourselves at the edge of Anne's property. "You put us all at risk. From now on you're going to toe the line at that stupid school or you're going to answer to me. Got it?"

"Got it," Gazzy mumbled.

"Yeah, got it," Iggy said reluctantly. "We'll be more stupid and idiotic in the future. We'll blend."

"Good."

Anne was not thrilled with us when we got home.

"I got a phone call" were her first words as we hung our jackets up neatly in the hall. "I guess you're all adjusting. Well, anyway. Come on into the kitchen. There's hot chocolate and cookies."

Way to reward the buggers, Anne. Great mothering. I took the opportunity to give Gazzy another glare, and his small shoulders hunched.

"Let me just say that I'm very disappointed in your behavior," Anne said, as she started pouring mugs of hot chocolate. She plopped two marshmallows in mine, and I tried not to think about the time Jeb had done the same thing for me, not too long ago.

She opened a package of chocolate-chip cookies and put them on a plate on the table. We all dug in-lunch had been hours before, and we'd had only normal-sized meals.

"I could show you how to make cookies from scratch," I said, then blinked in surprise. Had those words really left my mouth? Everyone else looked surprised too, and I felt defensive. So, what, I was never nice to Anne?

"There's a recipe on the back of the chip package," I mumbled, taking another cookie.

"I'd like that, Max. Thanks," said Anne, her voice softer. She gave me a pleasant smile, then went to the sink.

"Stink bomb," Total chortled, in between bites of cookie. "That must've been great."

No. The bigger playground. Angel looked into her teacher's eyes and pushed the thought at her gently. They were supposed to go to the younger kids' playground at recess, but Angel wanted more room. There was no reason they shouldn't play on the big field.

"I guess there's no reason you can't play on the big field," Angel's teacher said slowly.

"Yes!" said one of Angel's classmates, and they turned and ran through the gates and onto the big playground.

"Ariel! Come play with us!"

Angel ran over and joined Meredith, Kayla, and Courtney.

"Can we play Swan Lake?" Angel asked. Their teacher had just read them that story, and Angel had loved it. Her whole life was like Swan Lake. She was a swan. Fang and Max were hawks, kind of big and fierce. Iggy was a big white seabird, like an albatross or something. Nudge was a little pheasant, smooth and brown and beautiful. Gazzy was something sturdy-an owl?

And she was a swan. At least for today.

"Yeah! Let's play Swan Lake!"

"I'm Odette," Angel called, holding up her hand.

"I'm the second swan," said Kayla.

"I'm the littlest swan," said Meredith, holding out her uniform skirt to make it more tutulike.

Angel closed her eyes and tried to feel like a swan. When she opened them, the whole world was her stage, and she was the most beautiful ballerina-swan ever. Gently she ran in graceful circles around the other kids. She took big, soft running leaps, staying in the air as long as she could. Then she landed, raised her arms over her head, and twirled in little circles.

The other girls were dancing too, tiptoeing across the browning lawn, swishing their arms in slow movements to look like wings. Again Angel tripped lightly over the grass, spinning and jumping and feeling just like Odette, cursed to live as a swan because of Rothbart's spell.

Another spin, another arabesque, another long leap where Angel seemed to hang in the air for minutes. She wished so much that she could take out her wings and really do Swan Lake the way it should have been done, but she knew she couldn't. Not now, anyway. Not here. Maybe after Max saved the world. After Max saved the world, most of the regular people would be gone. Jeb had told Angel so, when she'd been at the School again, last month. Mutants like them had a greater chance of surviving. They'd been designed to survive. So maybe when most of the regular people were gone, Angel wouldn't have to hide her wings anymore, and she could just fly around and be Odette anytime she wanted to.

She could hardly wait.

Study Hall was my favorite class. The school had a great library, with seemingly endless books and six computers for kids to do research on.

The school librarian was this nice, smart guy named Michael Lazzara. Everybody seemed to like Mr. Lazzara a lot, even me. So far, anyway.

Today I was in research mode. Maybe if I hit some code-breaking sites I could figure out a different approach for how to find our parents.

All six computers had kids sitting at them. I stood there a moment, wishing I could just tip a kid out of a chair.

"Here, I can get off."

I looked over at the guy who'd spoken. "What?"

The guy got up and gathered his books. "I don't need the computer. You can have it."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

"You're new," the guy said. "You're in my Language Arts class."

"Yeah," I said. I'd recognized him-years of paranoia had honed my ability to remember faces. "I'm Max."

"I know. I'm Sam." He gave me a warm smile, and I blinked, realizing he was cute. I'd never really had the luxury of noticing cuteness or lack thereof in guys. Mostly it was the lethal/nonlethal distinction that I went with. "Where did you move from?"

"Uh... Missouri."

"Wow. Midwest. This must be pretty different for you."

"Yep."

"So, are you doing schoolwork or more of a personal project?" He nodded at the computer. I started to say, What's with the questions? but then I thought, Maybe he's not interrogating me. Maybe this is how people interact, get to know each other. They exchange information.

"Um, more of a personal project," I said.

He smiled again. "Me too. I was checking out this kayak I want to buy. I'm hoping my Christmas money will give me enough."

I smiled, trying to act as if I knew what Christmas money was. Voice? A little help here? The Voice was silent. After mentally reviewing possible responses, I went with: "Cool."

"Well, I'll let you get to it, then," he said, looking like he wanted to say something else. I waited, but he didn't-just picked up his stuff and split. I felt like a Vulcan, studying these odd, quaint humans.

Sighing, I sat down at the computer. I would never fit in. Never. Not anywhere.

Fang and I had checked out what we thought were the coordinates of addresses in the coded pages from the Institute. But there had been a few words too, in addition to our names. Today's mission: Google them. I typed in the first phrase, even though it looked like a typo, a pair of nonsense words: ter Borcht.

Something moving outdoors caught my eye, and I glanced out the window just in time to see Angel practically floating across the main playing field. She and a bunch of other girls were twirling around like ballerinas, but Angel was the only one who could leap eight feet in the air and hang there as if suspended by wires.

I gritted my teeth, watching them. What part of "blend in" did these kids not understand? For crying out loud.

A list of results popped up on my computer screen. How weird. Apparently ter Borcht wasn't gibberish. I clicked on the first result.

Ter Borcht, Roland. Geneticist. Medical license revoked, 2001. Imprisoned for unauthorized criminal genetic experiments on humans, 2002. A controversial figure in the field of genetic research, ter Borcht was for many years considered a genius, and the leading researcher in human genetics. However, in 2002, after being found guilty of criminal human experiments, ter Borcht was declared insane. He is currently incarcerated in the "Dangerous-Incurable" wing of a rehabilitation facility in the Netherlands.