“What’d you say?” he asked.
“I said that …” I stopped as images flooded back, angry faces of former friends, reminding me what had happened when I’d told Torchie, Cheater, and Flinch about their powers. Not only had they refused to believe me—they’d turned against me. Trash wasn’t my friend, he was just someone I’d shared a table with for three days. But I didn’t want another enemy. I didn’t want to cut myself off from this last human contact. This was pathetic. I couldn’t believe how low I was sinking.
“What?” he asked again.
“Nothing.” I sat back down and finished my lunch. As the cafeteria cleared, I stayed in my seat and tried to make sense of everything I’d seen. My discovery of Trash’s telekinesis meant there were four kids at Edgeview with psychic powers. Torchie, Flinch, Cheater, and Trash. Were there others? Lucky was always finding things. Was he lucky, or was something more going on?
I didn’t know. But I needed to find out. I grabbed a notebook and started listing all the kids I could think of who might have psychic powers. I decided that I’d write down absolutely anything I’d seen that was strange or unusual. I figured if I kept notes, I might discover some patterns. None of this would have been necessary if Cheater had cooperated.
“One experiment,” I muttered, slamming my fist on the table. “One stupid experiment.” That’s all I needed. If they’d just agreed to that, everything would have been fine.
“What’s up, Martin?”
The voice caught me by surprise. I shut the notebook and looked up at Mr. Briggs.
“What do you care? I heard you all spent a whole ten seconds deciding my fate at your last meeting.”
“I would have liked to take more time. But I don’t think the results would have been any different.” He shook his head and laughed. “I’ll say this. You’ve certainly made an impression at Edgeview.”
“You think this is funny?”
“Sorry. No. I didn’t mean to laugh. Look, we’re trying to do what’s best for you. Honest.” Mr. Briggs walked to the other side of the table, pulled out a chair, turned it around backward, and plopped down. The knight in armor on his Rutgers T-shirt peered over the back of the chair. I’d have been happy to run him through with a lance if I’d had one.
“Did I just hear you say my favorite word?”
I stared at him. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Obviously, he wanted to change to subject. He didn’t have the guts to talk about my review. Face-to-face, they were all cowards. Honest.
“Experiment,” he said.
I didn’t answer.
“Well, maybe I heard wrong.” He stood up. “If you do happen to run an experiment, let me know how it goes. I’d be interested in your findings.”
More than you’d believe, I thought as I watched him leave.
When he reached the hallway, he turned back and said, “Better get going or you’ll be late for class. Then you’ll be in big trouble.” He smiled when he said that. I guess he smiled because I had his class next. I didn’t return the smile. He was just making a pathetic attempt to get on my good side after stabbing me in the back.
I waited for him to get far enough ahead so he wouldn’t think I was following him, then gathered my books and headed to class. As I found a spot on the carpet, Mr. Briggs went to the blackboard and said, “I want to put aside our lesson and talk about something else. How many of you know how to design and run an experiment?”
One or two kids raised their hands. Everyone else just sat there. The kids with their hands up looked around, then lowered their hands. Mr. Briggs nodded. “That’s what I thought. The key to science is knowing how to design and carry out an experiment. Without that, everything else you’re learning is useless. Of course, I’m sure some of you feel that it’s all useless anyhow.”
That got a laugh from most of the kids.
Mr. Briggs looked right at me. “Anyone want to suggest an experiment? How about you, Martin?”
I shook my head.
“Come on, Martin,” he said. “Give it a try.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Somebody else? Give me some ideas. What shall we investigate?”
“Nuclear bombs,” Flinch shouted from the back of the room.
“Maybe next year,” Mr. Briggs said after the class had stopped laughing. “Right now, we’re fresh out of uranium.”
Another suggestion came from behind me. This one was quieter, spoken rather than shouted, but it might as well have blared through the speakers of the world’s loudest rock band as far I was concerned.