Sophomore Freak (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 2) by Brian Thompson Page A

just a small pie, we’d eat it.
    Stumbling into the garage, we found the black late model van with tinted windows I’d seen parked outside of Aunt Dee’s next to an old motorcycle and a black vintage Cougar sedan.
    Through the next passageway we found what we were looking for.
    I stepped in first, while Rhapsody followed close to me. The area was completely circular with a ten-foot-high ceiling. Spaced in a half circle bordering the round walls were tall bookcases. In front of them were desks made of red wood, with large computer monitors. The other side looked like a hospital room with curtains, beds, and monitors. That’s where we sensed movement. 
    Courtney was the first to notice us. She had been kneeling, I guess to fine-tune some equipment. She stood when she heard us. “Welcome,” she said with a smirk. She wore the same business suit we’d seen her in a while ago. “Thanks for knocking first.”
    Sasha sat on an examining table next to Courtney. She looked different with no makeup and her hair frizzed and combed back. She wore a black snakeskin adult footie pajama suit like ours. Her weary smile drooped when she saw Rhapsody and me connected at the hand. We pulled apart, but I was sure she and I would have a discussion about it later.
    At least she didn’t know about the kiss. Wait, did she sense it? Could she?
    I pretended everything was okay and rushed over, but she signaled that I shouldn’t touch her. “Don’t,” she said stiffly. “I cleaned up Corky’s puke for hours. And you were with her all this whole time?”
    Rhapsody crossed her arms across her chest when Sasha gestured in her direction.
    I defended her. “She tricked us into waking up Peters and George just. . .”
    “Then,” she interrupted me, still venting. “Janitor Brad breaks into my house and grabs me like a Lifetime movie. I can’t! You two, Joyce, this, it’s just too. . .”
    The mention of our old janitor made me tilt my head. “Wait, what? ‘ Janitor Brad’?”  
    Across the room and with his back to us, the guy kind of did look like Janitor Brad. He was tall, kind of thin, dark-skinned and bald. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned below his neck and his black tie hung loosely beneath it.
    “Name’s Hughes,” he said loudly enough for all of us to hear. “Not Brad.”
    When Hughes turned around I noticed that his black and gray goatee was shaped like Brad’s. He wore eyeglasses. Brad didn’t. Without them he could have been Brad’s identical twin. The janitor never talked to me, so I didn’t know his voice.
    Whoever this guy was, I needed answers. “Are we even safe here, wherever here is?” I asked. “I saw the Air Force symbol. I thought you weren’t government?”
    Hughes sighed. “Safe? For the most part. And we’re not government.”
    Rhapsody bristled at the answer. “Little more vague?”
    “What he means,” Courtney said. “Is that safety’s only an issue when you’re not more powerful than whoever is after you. As long as we’re around, the answer is yes.
    “This is an old government facility we commandeered. President Clinton shut it down before he left office. It’s been ours ever since.”
    “The least he could’ve done for us,” said Hughes. I wondered what he meant.
    “Who’s after us? Who is it?” Sasha’s body shook. “Tell me!”
    Whoever it is, it better not be Peters . Which reminded me, “Your buddy from the hospital? Him?” I asked Courtney. “Peters?”
    “Think, Jason. He’s not your enemy,” Hughes said. He almost sounded sincere.
    I laughed. “Your friends try to kill you?”
    “He’s much more of a help than a danger,” Courtney said with a straight face.
    “That’s debatable,” shouted the Asian woman from behind one of the curtains. Her shadow jerked and shifted, like the mention of Peters’ name made her jumpy.
    “He’s one of us,” Courtney shot back. “Camuto’s joking.”
    “No,” Camuto said. She rounded the curtain and stared at me