*Watty's 2021 Shortlist*
Samantha Roberts and Ben Evans have one thing in common - they both attend Sir Robertson's School for the Gifted, an elite boarding school for the children of the world's wealthiest. Both scholarship students, they gravitate...
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"So," Anthony says, leaning forward and fixing his gaze on me. "What's our next step?"
"What?" I say, confused. We've sequestered ourselves in the cozy armchairs in the corner of the library, surrounded by bookshelves. Usually, this spot isn't as popular because it isn't near any windows, but right now that's a reassurance. There's no sign we're going to make it out of here anytime soon, and I can see some people preparing to spend the night here. The storm isn't supposed to let up until morning, anyway.
"Our plan, Samantha," he says. "I mean, you can't just go on like this, right? At the very least, you must want to find out what Ben was talking about."
"Right, yeah," I say. "But we're kinda stuck in here right now."
"In the morning, then," he says. "Or whenever the storm lets up. We shall go and investigate our dorm. There could be a clue or something." He pauses. "I assumed that's why you called me. A man on the inside, right?"
"That was my first thought," I admit. "But then...I also wanted a friend."
"And here I am," he says, smiling.
"Here you are," I say softly. He meets my gaze and holds it, and the background sounds of the library seem to fade away. Suddenly, I can't catch my breath. Chills chase their way up the back of my neck.
Someone drops a book an aisle over, and we both jump, the sound knocking us loose from whatever spell was between us.
I laugh nervously. "Your plan is a good one," I say. "Going to the Boys dorm, I mean."
"Yes," he says, clearing his throat. "Ah—I mean, thank-you."
Suddenly, it's awkward. It's never been awkward before; Anthony and I have always had plenty to say, and the silences weren't uncomfortable. The opposite, in fact. We were okay to sit in silence, something I appreciated.
"How, um. How is school, so far?" I say, cringing at myself. Smalltalk, really? Was that the best I could come up with?
"Good," Anthony says. "I mean, as school ever is. But I am excited for the Inventor's Fair."
"Me too," I say. "But—Well. I haven't come up with a topic yet."
"Samantha!" Anthony says, mock reproachingly. I laugh.
"I know, I know. I just—I want it to be perfect, you know? And nothing I've come up with is."
"Perfect," Anthony muses. "Well, I reckon you'll find something."
"I guess this would make a pretty good project," I say, waving my hand around. "You know. All of this... brain stuff. Memory wipes. Hypnotism? I don't know. I just wish there was a way to know what was real and what wasn't."
Anthony laughs a little, shaking his head.
"What?" I say, indignant. " You don't think I can do it?"
