The Four

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

EMILY

Question 24 completed.

I glanced at the clock.

Only 3 minutes into the lesson and I had already completed all the questions.

Typical day in my life.

I, Emily Grace Stevens, am a real-life genius.

When you are 4 years old and have just started school they test you on what you learnt at pre-school, stuff like the alphabet and numbers up to ten.

When I was 4, I finished those tests in a minute and, to fill the time, got Pride and Prejudice out of my book bag and started reading.

I still remember it, as if it were yesterday.

Thats the thing, not only do I have an IQ higher than my teachers, I have a photographic memory. I remember anything and everything.

So the teachers moved me up to the Year 2 class, 2 years earlier than everyone else.

The kids in Year 2 were not nice.

Well, what would you do if a kid years younger than you is acing tests that you could only dream of even taking?

The biggest bully was Serena Reeves. She was top of every class before I came along, and she hated me for taking her title away.

Luckily, I met Zoe.

Together we devised a plan to get me moved back down to her class.

Zoe and I are best friends. We tell each other everything. Hell, she even told me about accidentally dripping ketchup all over my favourite top when we were 11.

Which is why I can't figure out why everytime I see her I know she is lying to me.

There are some things I can just see.

For instance, I could tell which question Amanda-May Willson was stuck on (number 7, by the way) and what shade of lipstick Clara Jordan was wearing (Rimmel London Super Matte, 086).

But I couldn't work out what my best friend was keeping from me.

"Em..."

I sighed inwardly.

"Which question?" I asked with a smile.

She pointed at number three.

Easy. It was so easy. How couldn't she work that out?

I marked the reflex angle on the octagon.

When I looked back up at Zoe she was smiling. Her head was tilted at 36° to the right.

But she wasn't looking at me.

And you didn't need a genius IQ or a photographic memory to figure out what-or who- she was staring at.

Mr Roberts' voice droned on.

Honestly, even if I didn't already know everything he could teach me I would be bored.

The classroom was 24°c.

It was the perfect temperature to go to sleep. And Zoe would wake me up if Mr Roberts was about to find out, and at the end of class.

I slumped down onto the desk and closed my eyes.