Upbeats

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Upbeats Page 8

by Erin Sheena Byrne


  Chapter Eight

  The bell rang the instant I got out of the locker. Kids stampeded out of class rooms and nearly knocked me over.

  It was as if some sadistic person was getting me back for missing Mr Johnson’s chemistry class.

  I didn’t fight it; I let myself melt into the sea of kids making their way to the cafeteria, chatting as loudly as they had been in the lobby of the unfinished zoo.

  The cafeteria had its usual gloomy look it always puts on when the heavy grey clouds blocked out the sun. White linoleum, greyish white walls, huge windows overlooking the dark, childless playground, and uniform tables.

  The only real colour in the room came from the kids and their colourful attire.

  I balanced on the balls of my feet and searched the faces in the crowd for my friends.

  A kid standing in the queue turned around for a second and I thought I recognized him, but he turned away again and I forgot about it as someone was suddenly tugging my arm.

  I spun around and saw Ned.

  "Hey, Dude, haven’t seen you for ages. How you been keeping?" Ned said, sarcastically.

  "What’s with the tone?" I asked.

  "Because that skunk, alien, kid . . . thing . . . we met, wasn’t lying," he said, flatly.

  I nodded. "Yeah, I know. Have you seen the others?"

  Ned started scanning the crowd. "There," he pointed to a table near a roof to floor window where Robyn and Brooke were chatting over trays of unidentifiable gloop.

  "Come on," I said, dragging Ned behind me as I weaved through the crowd to the girls.

  "Oh, hey, Luke," Brooke said, brightly, as we approached. "Hi . . . Ned," she added in a monotone.

  Ned pretended to smile. "Hi to you, too."

  I pulled up a chair and sat down. I looked down at the food, courtesy of Lunch Lady Gertrude. They only keep her on because she’s dating the Principal.

  "You gonna eat that?" Ned asked, disgusted.

  "No, I got it as a gift for you," Brooke said, shoving the tray over to Ned. "It doubles as a pet. It even barks."

  Ned pretended to throw up.

  "Anyway," I said, trying to get everyone on track. "Has anyone seen Smithy?"

  Brooke and Ned looked at Robyn.

  She shrugged. "What are you looking at me for? Just because I asked him to join our group, doesn’t mean I’m his keeper."

  "Do you know where he is?" I asked again.

  Robyn stared at her food. "He never said anything," she eventually said. "I met up with him when I was running some errands for my mom in town. He seemed . . . excited. I guess he found out he had a power. . . . I haven’t seen him since."

  "And now you have."

  The sudden interruption shocked us. We looked up and saw Smithy, tall as ever, slap his tray on the table and sit down.

  He poked his food with a plastic fork, ignoring the stares he was getting. He lifted his head and frowned. "What’s everyone looking at me like that for?" he asked.

  Brooke and Ned turned away, finding something else more interesting to look at.

  Robyn smiled.

  "Nothing, we just didn’t know what had happened to you. No one’s seen you for ages," she said.

  "I keep a low profile," he answered, simply. Smithy always has a way of sounding vague, even when he’s telling it to you straight, it still sounds like only half the story.

  He scooped a portion of the gloop onto his fork and examined it. After a second, he put it down and shoved the tray away. "On second thoughts, I’ve decided I’m not hungry," he said, trying to make the silence at our table a little more manageable. He turned his attention to us. "So . . . what’s going on?"

  "Um . . ." I tried to remember what exactly we were talking about. I hadn’t really started the whole conversation when he piped up. "Our powers," I said. "Has anyone found out their powers?"

  Everyone put their hands up, high, as if they were in class. Except Smithy who only slightly raised his hand.

  "Okay, then . . . Robyn? You want to go first?" I offered.

  Robyn chewed her lip, organizing her thoughts. She breathed in deeply. "Okay. On the Sunday after the whole zoo incident, I was at home with my mom, watching TV. I got up, went to the kitchen and was going to get some popcorn—"

  "Say no more: you shoot popcorn out your ears, don’t you?" Ned said, eyes wide with fake excitement.

  "Eh . . . no. I was trying to find it in the pantry but my mom’s known for disorganization and I couldn’t find it anywhere. Eventually, I was so fed up, I demanded, silently, not out loud, that the popcorn just drop off the shelf. And . . . it did! Hit me on the head, actually."

  "So . . . what’s your power?" Brooke asked, confused.

  Robyn was giddy with excitement now. "Mind control," she said. "I tried it with quite a few things and whenever I asked them to do something, in my head, they did it! Here, watch."

  Robyn picked up a fork and laid it on the middle of the table. We instinctively leaned closer so no one could see. She concentrated on the fork and ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably, it twitched.

  Ned jumped back. "Cool. Can you do it to humans?"

  "I tried it with the farmer across the road, I tried to make him lift his left arm, but it’s hard to override free will and I don’t . . . like doing it," Robyn said, shyly, the idea of robbing someone of their free will too much for her.

  She looked at me. "And you? What did you get?"

  I quickly explained how I tripped and fell through the lockers. I could go through solid objects. I demonstrated by picking up Brooke’s juice box and sticking my finger through it.

  "I don’t think I want to drink that," she said.

  "Your turn," Robyn said, eager to find out what power her friend may have.

  Brooke smiled. "Alright. I found this out straight after I came home from the zoo. I took a shower—"

  "No more details, thanks," Ned said.

  Brooke glared at him, momentarily, then went back to retelling her story. "Anyway, I was in the shower, and I reached out for a towel on the rack. And my arm elongated! It stretched like a piece of gum!"

  "Ew," Ned wrinkled his nose.

  Brooke glared at him again. "Alright, what can you do, Captain Annoyance?"

  "Far from it, my dear," Ned said, sounding like an eighteenth century detective. "My power is much more magnificent than you may think."

  "Spit it out," I said.

  "Fine . . . I was hit by a car."

  Automatically, Robyn gasped.

  Ned rolled his eyes. "It’s okay, I survived it. I was walking home from school on Wednesday and this car just came out of nowhere. It slammed straight into me. I was sure I was done for. But when I opened my eyes . . . I was alive. Not a bruise or a scratch on me. But the car has a huge indentation on it . . . shaped like me. I’m thinking of making it my trademark."

  "So, you’re invincible?" I said, making it sound like a question. "You can’t die?"

  "Well, I don’t know about that . . . it’s not really a theory I want to test . . ." Ned said, looking a little nervous.

  "It’s a useful power, nonetheless," Brooke said. "You know, for saving the world."

  "And you, Smithy, what did you get?" Robyn asked, kindly.

  (I hated to admit it, but, I had forgotten about Smithy the moment we all started talking.)

  He looked up at her. "I, um—" he started.

  But he was interrupted by a sudden cry, filled with delight and anticipation: a shout every kid longs to hear and every janitor loathes . . .

  "FOOD FIGHT!!!"

 

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