lunch, several girls had come by offering to show the newcomers around. They stayed to chat. One mentioned a party on Saturday.
Kait was very happy.
The thing she'd worried most about was explaining why she and the others were living together. She didn't want to tell these California girls anything about psychic powers and the Institute. She didn't want to be different at this school. She wanted to fit in.
But fortunately Lewis took care of that. Between snapping pictures of the girls, he grinned and said that a nice old man had given them a lot of money to go to
school here. No one believed him, but it created an irresistible aura of mystery that enhanced their status even more.
At the end of the day, Kaitlyn walked out of art studio class feeling blissful. The art teacher had called her portfolio "impressive" and her style "fluid and arresting." All she wanted to make the world perfect was Rob.
Gabriel, of course, didn't associate with anyone, and ate lunch alone. Kaitlyn saw him several times that day, always away from people, always with his lip curled. He could have had tremendous status himself, she thought, because he looked so handsome and moody and dangerous, but he didn't seem to want it.
Marisol collected them after school in a silver-blue Ford van-all except Gabriel, who didn't show up at the pickup point. Kaitlyn thought about his parole and hoped he was on his way back to the Institute.
"Now for some testing," Joyce said when they got home.
That was fine with Kaitlyn. She was jubilant from her first day at school, and an afternoon of testing meant an afternoon with Rob. She still hadn't figured out a plan for helping him discover she was female, but it was always at the back of her mind. Maybe an opportunity would come up spontaneously.
But the first thing Joyce did was send Rob upstairs, saying she'd call him after she got the others settled.
"The REG is ready, Lewis," she added. She sat Lewis down at the same study carrel as before. This time Kait was bold enough to come up behind them.
"What is that thing?" she asked, looking at the
machine in front of Lewis. It looked like a computer, but the monitor had a grid-marked screen with a wiggly green line running across the middle. Like a hospital monitor charting a patient's heartbeat.
"This is a random event generator," Joyce said. "It's a computer that only does one thing-it spits out random numbers. It's producing numbers right now, some positive, some negative, all completely random. That's what the green line is charting. Lewis's job is to make the line go up higher-to influence the machine to spit out more positive numbers than negative ones."
"You can do that?" Kait asked, looking at Lewis in surprise. "With your mind?"
"Yeah, that's what PK is. Mind over matter. This is actually a lot easier than making dice come up a certain number-but I can do that, too, sometimes."
"Stay away from Vegas, kid," Joyce said, rapping him on the head with her knuckles. "They'd shoot out your kneecaps."
She turned to Anna. "Right, you. Same as yesterday. I want you to tell that mouse which hole to go in."
Anna already had the white mouse out of its cage. "Come on, Mickey. Let's go make history."
"Right. Now, Kaitlyn," Joyce said. She nodded Kait toward the folding screen, where Marisol was wheeling up a machine on a cart. Kaitlyn eyed the dials and wires apprehensively.
"Don't be nervous. It's just an EEG machine," Joyce said. "An electroencephalograph. It records your brain waves."
"Oh, great."
"That isn't the part you're not going to like. You're going to really hate this." She held up what looked like a tube of toothpaste. "It's electrode cream, and it's murder to get out of your hair."
Kaitlyn sat in the reclining chair, resigned.
Marisol's thickly lashed brown eyes met Kait's only for the briefest of moments. Her full lips were curved in a bored, unchanging pout.
"This is just prep stuff to clean your skin," she said, squeezing a plastic bottle
Kait was very happy.
The thing she'd worried most about was explaining why she and the others were living together. She didn't want to tell these California girls anything about psychic powers and the Institute. She didn't want to be different at this school. She wanted to fit in.
But fortunately Lewis took care of that. Between snapping pictures of the girls, he grinned and said that a nice old man had given them a lot of money to go to
school here. No one believed him, but it created an irresistible aura of mystery that enhanced their status even more.
At the end of the day, Kaitlyn walked out of art studio class feeling blissful. The art teacher had called her portfolio "impressive" and her style "fluid and arresting." All she wanted to make the world perfect was Rob.
Gabriel, of course, didn't associate with anyone, and ate lunch alone. Kaitlyn saw him several times that day, always away from people, always with his lip curled. He could have had tremendous status himself, she thought, because he looked so handsome and moody and dangerous, but he didn't seem to want it.
Marisol collected them after school in a silver-blue Ford van-all except Gabriel, who didn't show up at the pickup point. Kaitlyn thought about his parole and hoped he was on his way back to the Institute.
"Now for some testing," Joyce said when they got home.
That was fine with Kaitlyn. She was jubilant from her first day at school, and an afternoon of testing meant an afternoon with Rob. She still hadn't figured out a plan for helping him discover she was female, but it was always at the back of her mind. Maybe an opportunity would come up spontaneously.
But the first thing Joyce did was send Rob upstairs, saying she'd call him after she got the others settled.
"The REG is ready, Lewis," she added. She sat Lewis down at the same study carrel as before. This time Kait was bold enough to come up behind them.
"What is that thing?" she asked, looking at the
machine in front of Lewis. It looked like a computer, but the monitor had a grid-marked screen with a wiggly green line running across the middle. Like a hospital monitor charting a patient's heartbeat.
"This is a random event generator," Joyce said. "It's a computer that only does one thing-it spits out random numbers. It's producing numbers right now, some positive, some negative, all completely random. That's what the green line is charting. Lewis's job is to make the line go up higher-to influence the machine to spit out more positive numbers than negative ones."
"You can do that?" Kait asked, looking at Lewis in surprise. "With your mind?"
"Yeah, that's what PK is. Mind over matter. This is actually a lot easier than making dice come up a certain number-but I can do that, too, sometimes."
"Stay away from Vegas, kid," Joyce said, rapping him on the head with her knuckles. "They'd shoot out your kneecaps."
She turned to Anna. "Right, you. Same as yesterday. I want you to tell that mouse which hole to go in."
Anna already had the white mouse out of its cage. "Come on, Mickey. Let's go make history."
"Right. Now, Kaitlyn," Joyce said. She nodded Kait toward the folding screen, where Marisol was wheeling up a machine on a cart. Kaitlyn eyed the dials and wires apprehensively.
"Don't be nervous. It's just an EEG machine," Joyce said. "An electroencephalograph. It records your brain waves."
"Oh, great."
"That isn't the part you're not going to like. You're going to really hate this." She held up what looked like a tube of toothpaste. "It's electrode cream, and it's murder to get out of your hair."
Kaitlyn sat in the reclining chair, resigned.
Marisol's thickly lashed brown eyes met Kait's only for the briefest of moments. Her full lips were curved in a bored, unchanging pout.
"This is just prep stuff to clean your skin," she said, squeezing a plastic bottle
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