The Charm (Olivia Hart and the Gifted Program Book 1)

by Alana Siegel

  A loving thank you to my family and relatives who helped me build this dream book into a reality. A very special thank you to my uncle, Gary Levine, who went above and beyond with his help, advice, and connections to create my beautiful cover. Thank you, Glenn Goldberg and Lynda Lupino, for sharing your expertise on the publishing industry. Amy Kenigsberg, Fabiola Edouard, Rich Costello, Elin Strong, and Carolyn Torsiello, thank you for sharing your marketing knowledge and guiding me through the scary jungle of social media.

  Thanks to my charming and talented editor, Carol Weber!

  Carol Weber’s website: http://www.carolscorrections.weebly.com

  * * * *

  Read a bonus excerpt from The Retreat, book #2 in the Olivia Hart and the Gifted Program series - available now!

  The Retreat

  Just a few months ago, Olivia Hart and Jaime Forte were shy girls, entering another high school year with apprehension. Discovering their special Gifts changes everything. They approach the spring of their junior year more confidently, as independent and self-sufficient young adults. Olivia has even managed to snag Justin Benz as a secret boyfriend.

  The kids in the Gifted Program realize quickly there were many things their ex-teacher, Ms. Magos, wasn't completely honest about. With no one left to answer their questions, Jaime speculates that a relative chooses the most worthy descendant to pass on their Gift. She convinces her friends that her great Aunt Evelyn can reveal the details of their jewelry’s past and teach them about their Gifts. Olivia's insecurities have her wondering why a relative from the charming Elste family would pick her to receive a Gift instead of her charismatic brother. Then she learns the immense strength of her Gift. Once again, Prometheus will force this tight-knit group of exceptional teenagers to face their true feelings about themselves and each other.

  Chapter One: March Comes in Like a Lion

  “Maybe I'm a descendant of a deeply religious Buddhist,” Jaime Forte announced. Her hands were positioned at ten and two on the wheel, and her Gifted bracelet dangled from her wrist, the charm glinting in the morning sunshine. One look at her skin and it was obvious that Jaime’s heritage emerging from a long line of Buddhists was unlikely. Thanks to her Irish mother and Italian father, her skin was a perfect creamy tan even though it was early March and still very cold outside.

  While her voice had a ring of excitement, she kept her focus on the road instead of gauging our reaction. I rolled my eyes and stifled a giggle from the passenger seat of her car. She was driving me and Helen O’Reilly to school, and we were lucky her responsible driving skills kept her vision occupied.

  I involuntarily closed my fingers around the charm on my Gifted necklace. The action was second nature, like blinking my eyes or running my fingers through my long, red hair. I felt the hum of power and a surge of confidence. Taking a deep breath, I smelled my Gifted rose scent.

  Just a few months ago, we were shy girls, entering the school year with apprehension. Discovering that Jaime and I had special Gifts changed everything. And while it was a rocky start, we approached the spring of our junior year of high school as independent, self-sufficient adults. We visited colleges, studied for Advance Placement exams, and spent hours analyzing the perfect dress for prom.

  I snuck a glance at Jaime while I tried to conceal my laughter. I didn’t think Jaime would be upset if she caught me poking fun at her. She rarely got mad, and plus, I was only teasing. Since we discovered my Gift to charm and her Gift of speed and strength, we had become close friends. Our shared secret had bonded us, and given us substance to our friendship. I knew I could turn to her if I had a problem, especially if it was a Gifted problem.

  Still, we didn’t always see eye to eye. I looked at the red jersey that peeked out from under her jacket and watched her tuck a loose hair into her practical bun. She worried more about comfortable sneakers for a basketball game than fashion, but our different choices for clothing and hair style didn’t bother me. It represented who we were, and our diversified tastes helped broaden my horizons.

  Our differing opinions only became an issue when it came to Jaime’s obsession with the history of our Gifts. She wanted to unravel the mystery behind the sudden appearance of our Gifted jewelry in Pandora. Specifically, she wanted to learn who had owned her Gifted bracelet before it came to her, and her latest and greatest hobby was searching for people who were special because they were born with a unique family gene in their DNA and then given a powerful piece of jewelry.

  When we originally learned that the jewelry made us Gifted, we didn’t spend much time trying to understand how we became the recipients of our Gifted jewelry. At the time, it was enough to believe our jewelry had found us, like Ms. Magos had explained. That was our mistake.

  Ms. Magos was our Global Studies teacher; she first revealed she was Gifted, then revealed she wasn't trustworthy, and then she skipped town. Once we found out there were many things Ms. Magos wasn’t completely honest about, Jaime came up with her own theory.

  Her theory was that a relative picked the most worthy descendent to receive their Gifted jewelry. She thought we could learn about our Gifts if we knew who had them before us.

  I was supportive of her project on the Gifted, but she hadn't uncovered any brilliant answers to our questions. The first problem was that there was no simple explanation. A history book didn’t explicitly list information on the Gifted, and it definitely didn’t offer a sample of their DNA so we could test their relationship to us.

  Her research was useless if we didn’t know anyone who could confirm her hypothesis. Her access to intel on the Gifted was limited to her own experiments, and therefore her theories were mostly based on the common knowledge of a high school student and on her own imagination.

  I had to admit that I was curious, and maybe concerned. It worried me that there was someone else in the world who knew my secret, and for that reason, I didn’t want to be surprised by who it was.

  However, the overall concept was difficult for me to accept. Why would a relative pick me instead of my brother, Derek? He clearly had the traits an Elste should possess: engaging, charismatic, and outgoing. Derek was two years older and spent his time perfecting his social skills with his large circle of friends and growing list of admirers at the local college.

  Choosing me to receive the Gift seemed arbitrary, and that was why I didn’t put too much stock into the details of the past being relevant to us. I tried not to discourage Jaime, but I felt like she was grasping at straws or looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

  “What makes you think your great-great-great family relatives were Buddhist?” Helen asked. Her tone was serious so I turned around in my seat to give her my best look of incredulity. Helen’s golden curls framed her face and were perfectly offset by her lime-green pea coat. She lounged across the back seat with her legs crossed and her foot bouncing in time to the song on the radio.

  My friendship with Helen had fallen back in place over the last few months, and I was happy to be sharing the details of my life with her once again. I believed Jaime's investigation of her family tree was a fruitless effort, but Helen was happy to participate. She listened to all of Jaime's ideas and was thoughtful with her responses. She was content to be included in our Gifted theory even if she didn't have a Gift of her own.

  I watched Helen's green eyes, and I could see her thought process change from questioning to excitement. She leaned forward in her seat and yelled, “I got it! Your Gift makes you quicker and more resilient than the karate kid! Is he Buddhist?”

  I giggled, and this time I couldn’t hide it from Jaime. Helen had taken Jaime’s hypothesis and connected it to pop culture and Asian martial arts. I didn't think it was in line with Jaime's reasoning, but apparently Helen thought so.

  Holding her fingers out straight, and positioned in front of her, Helen karate-chopped the back of Jaime's head rest. Swinging her graceful arms, she looked more like a focused ballerina than a lethal weapon.

  I lau
ghed louder as Helen placed her palms together and bowed her head to her worthy opponent...the head rest.

  “Maybe Olivia's Gift is like the yin and yang,” Helen added to Jaime's all-encompassing “Asian” theory. Jaime's face became serious as she deliberated on the idea.

  “How does that make sense?” I asked, picturing the black and white interlocking shapes that created a unified circle from the separate yin and yang. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at Helen for an answer.

  Jaime answered instead. “Sure it does. Just look at the Libra scales on the charm of your necklace. Your Gift keeps things balanced in life,” she said like she was explaining a nursery rhyme to a five year old.

  I thought through her theory and held out the charm of my necklace to take a closer look. The underlined and upside down “U” did look like the scales of justice.

  “Or maybe you are descendants of Greek gods!” Helen shouted. Her eyes were wide again, making her face light up. “Jaime's speed is like an Olympic runner from ancient Greece!”

  “Ha!” I shouted. I pictured Jaime with gladiator sandals and green ivy in her hair and couldn’t hold back my smile. “Then who am I a descendent of?” I asked, amused by this outlandish theory.

  You could see the wheels turning in Jaime’s mind. She liked this idea of Greek gods. “Olivia is Aphrodite,” Jaime said without a hint of humor. That caught me by surprise, and I couldn't decide if that was a compliment or not. On one hand, Aphrodite was a beautiful goddess, but didn't she manipulate people?

  I made a disgusted face and then shook my head. I wasn't convinced. “How about Max? Is he a descendent of Zeus?” I asked, trying to hide my smile.

  Max Smarr was my ex-boyfriend, and with his Gifted ring, he created stormy weather. When he sent lightning across the sky, his skin and the air around him turned deep red.

  When I broke up with Max, it felt like his goal in life was to make me miserable. It turned out he was only trying to protect me. Despite his honorable intentions, I couldn't see Max, or anyone he was related to, in a toga and wielding a lightning bolt in their hand like a Greek god.

  Jaime was starting to get annoyed with me. In a rare act of aggravation, she grasped the steering wheel a little tighter, set her jaw, and focused on parallel parking the car. I could smell her Gifted lavender scent. When she was emotional or excited, her Gift was more acute.

  Helen broke through the tension. “No, Max isn't Zeus.” She shouted in her excitement, “But since we aren’t crossing mythical people off the list of possibilities, maybe Max has a Gift because of some genetic disorder, like a mutant!”

  I hoped Helen was trying to lighten the mood because I didn't know how much longer I could hold in the giggles. I was relieved to see Jaime crack a smile after Helen threw back her head and let out a hearty laugh.

  “If Max is a mutant, then Justin Benz is a superhero,” I said, getting into the analysis now that Jaime's research had taken a different turn. Justin had the Gifted ability to change the physical properties of an object, like bending metal or sending my blood rushing through my veins.

  He preferred to blend into the background, but his sharp jaw line and striking seafoam eyes made that impossible. Still, he worked hard to keep his features unreadable. The hazy blue cloud that surrounded him, and the Gifted Swiss army knife he utilized when he used his Gift, were the only proof that he was doing anything.

  Helen's pearly whites sparkled as she sent me a devious smile. “You wish!” She gave me a playful shove from across the car before she leaped out her door. She completed a pirouette and skipped to the sidewalk. Following her out of the car, I pictured Justin as my own personal superhero, and my stomach did a little flip.

  I shut the passenger door of the old black Toyota Camry that Jaime shared with her sister. Jaime was the first to receive her learner’s permit last January, and when she asked if Helen and I wanted a ride to school, we gladly accepted. The ten-minute car ride with my two best friends was the perfect way to start the day. Their friendship kept me grounded. I don't know what I would have done if Prometheus’s crew had taken Helen away the night of the Homecoming dance last fall.

  I looked over at Helen, gracefully walking next to me. She smiled and linked her arm through my own. Images of her from that night, when she was bound, gagged, and held as collateral by Prometheus’s Gifted crew, replayed in my nightmares. That small band of Gifted was evil, villains torn from the pages of a comic book. Their leader, Prometheus, had not graced us with his presence, but if he was anything like his messengers, he was terrifying.

  I had spent the week of the Homecoming dance keeping my Gift a secret from Helen, and that night she refused to talk to me. It was the perfect moment for the enemy to swoop in and capture her. Despite our fight, she was still my best friend and threatening her was the easiest way to get me to do what they wanted.

  They offered an exchange, promising to release Helen if I joined them as part of Prometheus’s crew. As a descendant of the Elste family, I was an endangered breed of Gifted. My Gift to charm others was practically extinct. I would have been Prometheus’s rare find for his collection of Gifted, like an expensive piece of art.

  Fortunately, Jaime knew who they were, and their plan to catch us by surprise backfired. With the help of our friends in the Gifted Program, we outsmarted and outmaneuvered them. We were lucky to escape their clutches.

  I kept the frightful memories of the night Helen was almost kidnapped pushed as far back in my mind as possible. It was scary to think that I almost lost my best friend because they were able to use our friendship against us.

  Sometimes the guilt was unbearable. Jaime felt the same way, and that was why she immersed herself in her research, hoping to find a way to protect us. We were both fearful that we might leave Helen helpless again. Without a Gift of her own, she was vulnerable.

  The unspoken agreement to maintain Helen’s safety meant that none of the other Gifted questioned how much information we shared with her. Jaime and I promised never to keep secrets again, and we worked hard to keep that promise. The only downside was that it also made us pushovers when it came to agreeing with Helen’s plans and opinions.

  Helen appeared the most confident. She seldom showed any fear that one day Prometheus’s crew might come back. Instead, she was practical about our defensive strategy and took on the role of my coach. She often repeated her favorite motivational speech that “an unused Gift is a wasted talented,” and she insisted that I practice. I was beginning to think that she saw me as the one who needed to be protected.

  Despite our rigorous preparation for a return attack, we had not heard a peep from Prometheus's crew since that night. In fact, school life almost went back to the way it was before we found out we were Gifted. A new teacher was hired to teach Global Studies, Kickline season carried on, homework continued to be assigned, and the rest of the students seemed unaffected and unaware of any changes.

  A crisp wind blew back my hair and exposed my ears to the last few chilling gusts of winter. I quickly pushed up my furry pink ear muffs to warm myself. I was ready for spring, but the frost wasn’t prepared to move on.

  The biting cold of early March always reminded me of Mom's favorite saying, “When March comes in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb.” It was Mom’s way of promising warmer weather ahead, and I hoped she was right. Jaime's bracelet caught the single ray of sunlight that peeked through the grey sky, and I felt a glimmer of hope.

  We had parked on the side street adjacent to our new high school. “New” wasn’t exactly the best word to describe the edifice. It was new to Pandora’s population of high school students, but the facility was far from modern.

  The walls of our last high school caved in from the intense concentration of Gifted power during our run-in with Prometheus’s troop. Mr. Dimon, a secret agent from the Meta, a governing body that enforced Gifted laws, was informed of the Gifted activity in the area, but it was too late for him to react and save the school. As the superin
tendent of our school district, he quickly explained away the whole collapse as having come from a tornado that no one else happened to see.

  With the destruction of our high school, most students had hoped school would be canceled for a few months as the structure was rebuilt, but they had to grudgingly accept that an extended vacation wasn't in the cards. Mr. Dimon announced that the plans to build a senior community center in the empty, dilapidated structure on the other side of town were on hold while we used the building as an interim high school until summer. That was how we ended up continuing our classes in the outdated building across town.

  After one week, many of the students' parents complained about the poor conditions of the school, and I could see why. As Helen, Jaime, and I approached the surrounding sidewalk to make our way to the front entrance, we kicked loose pieces of concrete out of our way and passed the poor excuse for a school sign. “Pandora High School” was hand-written with a sharpie marker on a white sheet draped over the bricks on the street corner.

  The complaints landed on deaf ears. The school district was out of options, and there was nowhere else for us to go.

  Fifty years ago the building was a middle school, and therefore, it wasn’t completely void of the tools needed to teach. The science rooms had lab stations, the gym had basketball hoops, and all the classrooms were filled with student desks. The infrastructure was there, it was just dusty, rusty, and technologically ancient.