Marilyn Kaye - Gifted - Now You See Me

Jenna whirled around. But no one could have approached her and got away so quickly. She picked up the necklace and examined the clasp. Then she shrugged and put it back around her neck.

What else could she do, Tracey wondered. Gather up plates and bowls and dump them on Jenna’s table? That would get Jenna’s attention, but it would attract attention from the others in the dining hall too. She was getting desperate — she had to talk to Jenna. She had to share this information, she wanted Jenna’s advice and opinion. Jenna would know what Tracey should do. She had to make contact with her. She needed her friend!

Suddenly, Jenna’s eyes widened. ‘Tracey?’ she whispered.

Yes! Yes, it’s me, I’m right across the table from you. How did you know I was here?

Jenna put a hand over her mouth and spoke so softly that Tracey had to lean across the table to hear her.

‘I don’t know, but it happened once before, when Emily was trapped by Serena at school. I guess she was trying so hard to make contact with me that I actually heard her.’

Just like me, Tracey said with feeling. I’ve got to talk to you.

‘What’s going on?’ She’d taken her hand away from her mouth, and a couple of kids at the next table glanced at her curiously. Jenna quickly speared a carrot from her plate, stuck it in her mouth and chewed furiously.

Just listen. I’ve learned something. This wouldn’t be breaking the promise she’d made to Amanda. Because she wasn’t ‘telling’ the secret — she was only thinking it.

Silently, Tracey recalled the story Amanda had told her about Mr Jackson. She’s telling the truth, Jenna, I’m sure of it. And it all makes sense, when you think about it. The spy is reporting to Mr Jackson. That’s how he found out about our gifts.

‘So it was Jackson who put the knife in my locker?’

I think so.

‘But who’s the spy?’ Jenna asked. ‘Who’s telling Jackson about us?’ Realizing she was talking out loud, she clapped a hand over her mouth but it was too late. People turned to look at her. And one guy, with a bad complexion and a ponytail, sauntered over to her.

‘Talking to yourself, Jenna?’ he asked unpleasantly.

Jenna glared at him. ‘Does that get me another demerit?’

‘No,’ the guy said. ‘Just a report to Doctor Paley.’

Can we go someplace private? Tracey asked.

Jenna rose, and picked up her tray. Tracey followed her as she left the tray by the bins, and went out of the dining hall.

‘We’re going to my room,’ Jenna murmured as they walked.

But they weren’t going to get any privacy there. A girl was lying on one of the twin beds, and smoking a cigarette.

Jenna spoke. ‘Get out of here with that cigarette or I’ll ram it down your throat.’

The girl smirked. ‘Is that a threat?’

‘No,’ Jenna said. ‘It’s a promise.’

Tracey was impressed. She knew Jenna could act tough, but she’d never heard her sound quite so scary.

The girl got the message. Once she was out of the room, Jenna threw herself on the other twin bed. ‘That threat’s going to get me another demerit. Which will probably mean another day of no visitors.’

Is that why they’ve been telling us you can’t have visitors? Because you’ve got demerits?

Jenna nodded. ‘Only I didn’t earn them.’

Tracey was shocked to hear the story about the assistant who was blackmailing residents. Can’t you tell someone about him?

‘He’ll only deny it. And how am I going to explain why I know about all the other kids he’s using?’

But this has to stop! He’ll keep making up stories about you, you’ll get more demerits, and, and. .

Jenna finished the thought for her. ‘And I’ll never get out of here.’

Just as she’d never heard Jenna sound as fierce as she had moments earlier, she’d never heard her sound so flat and resigned. She preferred the fierce Jenna. Maybe now Jenna needed Tracey as a friend even more than Tracey needed Jenna.

That’s not going to happen. I’ll get the proof we need, I’ll get you out of here. I promise, Jenna.

There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. A young woman poked her head in.

‘It’s time for your group session, Jenna.’

Jenna groaned. ‘Can’t I skip it today?’

‘Sure,’ the woman said, ‘if you don’t mind getting another demerit. Oh, and Doctor Paley wants to see you tomorrow.’

‘I just saw him this morning!’ Jenna exclaimed.

The woman shrugged. ‘Well, he wants to see you again tomorrow.’

‘Boy, Peter works fast,’ Jenna murmured.

The woman’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ Jenna got up and went to the door. Tracey followed her.

You want me to stick around?

Jenna shook her head. The woman looked at her curiously. ‘Are you all right, Jenna?’

Jenna almost smiled. ‘No. But I will be.’

Yes, Tracey thought fervently. Yes, you will, Jenna.

Outside Harmony House, she went to wait at the bus stop. Looking back at the building, she had the same thought she’d had when she arrived.

No, it didn’t look like a prison. But a place didn’t have to look like a prison to be a prison. A prison didn’t even have to be a place. A secret was like a prison — it could keep a person trapped in the same way. Jenna, Tracey, Emily. . all of Madame’s students were imprisoned by their secret gifts.

Somehow, Tracey was going to get Jenna out of Harmony House. She’d find the real spy, and the spy would lead her to the proof about Mr Jackson and the knife. Jenna would be released, she’d be free. But could any of them ever feel completely, really and truly free, free to do whatever they wanted, free to be themselves?

No one else came to wait at the bus stop, and the bus was approaching. Tracey could only hope that someone was getting off at this stop so she could get on. No, she wasn’t free to do whatever she wanted.

WHEN TRACEY ARRIVED HOME, she could hear the Devon Seven and her mother in the kitchen.

‘Where’s Tracey, Mommy?’ one of them asked. Tracey was pretty sure it was Brandie. The others chimed in.

‘Where is she?’

‘I want Tracey to play with us!’

‘We can’t find her, Mommy!’

Mrs Devon looked frazzled. ‘She’s — she’s out, girls, she’s busy. Go outside and play, Tracey’s coming home soon.’

As soon as the kitchen was vacant, the woman sank down into a chair. ‘Tracey?’ she called out weakly. ‘Are you in here?’

Her mother looked really upset.

‘Tracey. . I’m sure you’re fine, you’re just being invisible, but. . I’m worried! What if you’re hurt? Maybe you’ve run away from home. .’ She gasped as another thought must have occurred to her. ‘Maybe you’ve been kidnapped! Oh Tracey, sweetheart, if you’re here. . I know I wouldn’t be able to hear you if you speak, and I know you can’t write me a message, but. . could you just give me a sign, so I know you’re all right? You’re not usually invisible for this long.’

Once again, Tracey marvelled at the irony of it all. Not so long ago she could have disappeared for a lot longer than a couple of days and her mother wouldn’t have even noticed. Now she was worried. . Tracey wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger, her pity for her mother or her satisfaction at the change in family relationships.

It was the pity that made her go back into the living room, pick up her mother’s handbag from the coffee table, and bring it into the kitchen. When the bag appeared in front of her mother, Tracey was rewarded with a sigh and smile of gratitude.