ExtraNormal (2 page)

Geery snickered. Geery’s voice went stiff and deep.

I sighed.

Geery laughed, ignoring my stern tone.

I sighed a second time, then relented.

Geery blurted out an even heartier laugh than the first.

The male glanced in my direction, and I shifted in my seat to remain hidden. I streamed in a whisper, as if we could be overheard, and shifted back to get him in my site again.

I said it like I wanted her to stop. But I didn’t. I loved hearing her voice.

Geery’s voice was sarcastic and mushy.

Geery replied, still sarcastic, but patronizing.

I smiled. have
missed me?>

There was a pause before Geery responded.

I suddenly felt better than I had in days.

I hesitated, surprised at her accuracy, and glanced at the male.

I could just imagine Geery sitting up on the bed now, alert and humored.

I focused on his face until I had his image ready to send.

I held my gaze. Finally, he turned his head slightly, almost as if he was looking for me. I told myself it was just paranoia.

Geery gasped.

I smiled, imagining the feel of Geery’s delight, which wasn’t quite as good as sensing her pleasure up close, but would have to do. For some odd reason, it pleased me to know that Geery was able to see past his unusual features to whatever it was that made him so striking. We watched him through my eyes for several moments in comfortable silence while the males sang along with Mr. Chavez.

His features were too delicate to meet Nreim’s stringent standard of perfection for males. Yet, as far as I was concerned, he was the very definition of masculinity. Maybe it was the strong, angular line of his jaw. Or his broad shoulders. Perhaps the expression on his face—displaying an understanding of life beyond his years—

Geery’s voice brought me out of the stupor I’d wandered into.

I cleared my throat and sat upright.

Geery broke into full-blown laughter.

Geery’s laughter subsided to simple snickering. She snickered again.

I sighed out loud, glanced to my side to make sure no one had noticed, then put my gaze back on the male.

Geery streamed, her voice wistful.

I felt a wave of guilt, but pushed it back, and answered as if we were in the same room, able to feel confident in each other’s friendship. my
fantasy. Besides, you would never survive all the emesis after the worm hole.>

Geery repeated indignantly. Not
emesis.>

I committed the term to memory.

Geery continued.

I felt my anxiety mounting. am
I supposed to call him,
rad
?>

Geery was suddenly serious.

I slumped in my chair.

Instead of a response from Geery, there came the strains of an electric guitar, followed by a tenor voice. <
Tell me why I can’t be there where you are…
>

“Okay, now let’s hear the sopranos.” Mr. Chavez turned on his wheeled stool to my side of the room.

I called through the music. Pink Teeth gave me a suspicious sideways look. I smiled back. Still just music. I streamed.

It was no use. I dropped the stream, pushed down a now-familiar feeling of panic, and sang with Mr. Chavez. “La-la-la-la-la.”

 CHAPTER THREE

At the end of the hour, a box on the wall of the choir room let out an offensive blast—apparently a signal to the humans to scramble from the room. I waited in my seat, hoping to avoid another smelly body pileup. The boy remained, talking to Mr. Chavez. Eventually I decided to try to slip past, making a wide arc around the piano. Just before I reached the door, he looked up, registered surprise at seeing me, and smiled broadly.

I looked away. Then glanced back.

He was still looking.

The same unsettling alarm from this morning started to erupt in my stomach. I clutched the doorway, fighting simultaneous urges to both run away and move closer. That second urge was bizarre. I couldn’t imagine what would make me want to be anywhere near a human male. Ugh.
Boy
.

I forced myself to step outside into the clean air and sunshine—and out of the boy’s line of sight. I took a couple of calming breaths, then moved with the flow of students along the path leading to the large gymnasium in the center of the high school campus, which I hoped was the location of my next class.

An odd awareness of Choir Boy remained, and I quickened my pace, certain he was watching. When I reached the wide gymnasium doors, I veered through them and dropped onto the floor several feet from the other students, who were sitting cross-legged in the spacious room. A tiny, curly-haired teacher, Mrs. Daines, paced in front of the students.

My heart still beating wildly, I tapped anxiously at my wrist. But the only thing there was Geery’s bracelet. I looked up and realized the useless wrist-tapping made me look neurotic, so I sat on my hands. I knew I needed to stop acting like the incompetent idiot Keddil expected. This boy shouldn’t affect me. He was just doing what human males were supposed to do: stare at girls and think horrible, lustful things about them. It was disarming, but I just had to get used to it.

A female…
a girl
…suddenly plopped onto the floor next to me. Her oval face was framed by beautiful golden ringlets cascading onto her shoulders. “Hey,” she said.

I tried not to stare at her golden hair, though I’d never seen anything like it. “Um…hey,” I repeated the greeting.

“Your first day?” the girl asked.

“Yes.”

“Where you from?”

I studied my feet, wondering why the girl was being so nice, and tried to push back the fear that she thought I was some kind of a freak. I’d managed to get out of a conversation with Pink Teeth by just ignoring her, and wondered if that would work a second time. But when I glanced her way, she was still watching me expectantly. I swallowed, preparing to tell my first big lie. The one I was expected to repeat over and over again. “New Mexico.” I’d never actually been there—to Albuquerque, to be precise—but before my UNID was removed, I’d downloaded every bit of media ever made in or about the state. Keddil had assured me that I wasn’t likely to run into anyone who had spent much time there themselves, especially if I kept to myself like I was supposed to.

“It must be scary to move that far,” the girl said.

“You have no idea.” I tried to keep my voice casual, but it came out high-pitched and nervous.

“At least you won’t have to worry about fitting in. The pretty girls like you always find a group right away. My name’s Lacey by the way.”

Mrs. Daines began speaking and we both gave her our attention. But one word stuck in my head:
pretty
. No one had ever called me that before. Not once. In fact, being ordinary was probably the one quality that made me most eligible for this assignment.

The first-ever Over-World Student Emissary Program—which offered the prestigious opportunity of acting as sentinel to Nreim’s most renowned scientific team while attending a high school in sunny California, United States of America, Planet Earth—had six hundred and three applicants.

603. I knew the number well. Keddil had reminded me of it plenty of times. But he said it with contempt, not pride. All those able candidates and this was the best they could do: An incompetent quasar-force who could barely speak the language. Nothing was valued on Nreim as much as knowledge and skill, and the only thing I was noted for was my vast knowledge of Earth trivia, which hardly seemed helpful so far.

he had streamed at the graduation ceremony at the end of my training. For a moment I had felt a boost of pride. Until he continued.

Thank you very much, Keddil.

 “Are we all clear on that?” Mrs. Daines raised her voice above the din of students chattering. Silence followed. I glanced at Lacey—who was nodding—and nodded myself. I needed to stay focused. Blend in. Act natural. I took a paper from the stack Lacey handed me and passed it on, then stared at the paper and did my best to pay attention to Mrs. Daines’ recitation. Reading was a struggle, but I did my best to focus on the paper in my hands. Apparently the teacher cared more about participation than performance. A noble goal. (Though I was looking forward to maybe excelling at the performance part of gym class for a change.) Gym clothes had to be taken home and washed every weekend. (Another good idea, especially with all the primitive secretions these humans had to tolerate.) We would be issued lockers, subject to random inspections—

And that’s all I heard. A strange aroma found its way to my nose and encircled my head like a ghostly hand. It was not an emotion, as it only entered through my nostrils. The scent was warm, like a fire. It was too pleasant to be a food, though it seemed oddly similar to the onions in last night’s dinner.

I tried to ignore it, to think of something else, but it was overwhelming. When Mrs. Daines turned her back, I leaned close to Lacey, breaking the rule of never speaking unless spoken to. My first broken rule. That’s how compelling it was. “What’s that odor?”

“Lunch.”

It took less than a second to decide that the brown bag Mom had packed last night with agency-approved nutrition sources would stay in my locker. There were too many rules any way. And they were idiotic. Or probably
stupid
would be a better word.

***

After class I followed Lacey into the adjoining room—the forbidden cafeteria. The enticing odor’s density increased with each step. Lacey stopped at the end of a line of students waiting to enter the mysterious place. I stopped behind her, feeling anxious, increasingly worried about what I might find. But too curious to leave.

When we approached the front of the line, I went through the motions of imitating Lacey’s actions: pick up a plastic tray, a fork, spoon, knife, napkin, milk. Finally, I selected a plate that had to be the source of the aroma: a cheeseburger and french fries. Just like on visual media…no…
television
. Except I had no idea the real thing had a smell that was so…so…mesmerizing.

An adult female waited at the end of the line, sitting by a cash register that reminded me of something I’d seen in the Museum of Neoearth History. Lacey punched a series of keys on a square pad next to the register. The female…
woman
…looked at the register and nodded. Lacey picked up her tray and began to walk away. I pushed my tray forward and stared at the pad, apparently for a little too long.

“Do you know your student number?” The woman asked.

Student number.
That sounded familiar. This morning in the office. That was one of the things the other adult female had given me. I hit the appropriate keys and held my breath. It seemed to work, but my relief didn’t last long.

The woman stared at her monitor then shook her head. “It shows you have a zero balance. Do you have cash?”

I glanced at the back of Lacey’s head, then back to the woman. Of course I’d have a zero balance. No one would have set up an account. I wasn’t supposed to even go into this building.

“Three seventy five.” The woman’s impatience was obvious.

Swallowing nervously, I dug some currency out of my pocket, put there for emergencies, and handed it all to the woman, trying to look nonchalant. I didn’t breathe until three coins and a stack of bills were placed back in my hand. I snatched my tray and followed Lacy, silently praying that I hadn’t looked too foolish. Back home that whole transaction would have been as simple as a tap to my wrist to activate my Universal Neuro-Implant Device, which I was seriously missing.