Gifted

Chapter Fifteen

Clare

I worry about Connor. Not because he has powers or even because of the awful thing that happened yesterday with the squirrel, which I think traumatized both of us a bit. I worry because Connor doesn’t care what happens to him. I mean, he does ok in school, but he’s not fabulous, and almost every weekend he and his friends are off at parties because Dad’s away nearly every weekend, and I’m always left alone.

It wouldn’t bother me so much, but I heard that there was a huge bust on last weekend’s party, at Howard Logan’s house, and Connor was there, but he got away before the cops really began showing up. About half of the people there got arrested. I’d find that funny if it didn’t hit me hard that that could’ve been Connor. I don’t want that to happen to him.

My phone buzzes in my pocket—yes, I have a cell phone—and I pull it out to glance at the number. Beatrice Warner, who goes by Boxxy. She’s my best friend. “Boxxy” is a weird nickname, and she’s never really explained it to me, as she had it before I met her. It’s just part of who she is.

I mute the TV. “Hey, Box,” I say.

“Hey, Clare,” Boxxy says, and then gushes, “Ohmigod, have you heard that Swift is playing nearby, in Banbury, next week? We gotta go!”

I hadn’t, but Banbury is a huge city, so it’s pretty obvious she’d go there to play. She has no shortage of fans, that’s for sure. Boxxy loves her. Me...meh. I’m a metal girl. There, go ahead and laugh.

“I’m taking Simon, oh yes, he’s coming whether he likes it or not,” Boxxy crows.

Simon is Boxxy’s little brother, and he hates country, so naturally, Boxxy drags him to every country concert she can wheedle her parents to buy tickets for. It’s funny to see the cute rivalry that springs up because of that.

“He’ll love you for that,” I say sarcastically and Boxxy snorts.

“Yeah, he’ll come anyway,” she vows and I laugh. “He doesn’t know he loves her yet, but I’ll show him the truth soon.”

“So, is that what you called me for? Swift coming to town? Well, to Banbury, anyway,” I say.

“I know you’re not her greatest fan,” Boxxy says, managing to keep the sarcasm to a minimum. She just doesn’t get metal. And I just don’t get country. We agree to disagree, I suppose. That’s fine. “No, the reason I called, really, was to ask you a question...but then I got sidetracked when I remembered what was going on next week. So, here it is: Have you heard about Jacob?”

“Katzer?” I ask. The skinny, short kid with the thick-rimmed glasses? All I know about him is we’re in the same grade-level. “What about him?” I say, curious.

“He’s got powers. He showed people.”

"So, what can he do?”

Boxxy is quiet for a moment. “He picked up a car yesterday,” she says softly and I can’t help but gasp.

“What?”

“Jacob picked up one of those little cars, a teacher had one. He walked over to it and said, ‘Watch this,’ and grabbed it under the bottom and lifted it right up on its back wheels. And if you’ve seen Jacob, he’s not exactly big. Or, he didn’t use to be. But, now, he’s got, like, all these muscles, and he’s a lot taller now too. Anyway, it was freaking awesome! I’m sorry you were sick yesterday and couldn’t see it,” she gushes, her voice rising excitedly. “He has, like, super-strength, or something. It’s cool. After he put it back on the ground, he challenged Jimmy Lumer to an arm-wrestling contest. Jimmy about fainted and said heck, no.” She laughs.