Special

Chapter 9

People were fascinated by me the way they were intrigued by fire-breathers and circus animals.

'How come you don't have any abilities?' Christie asked when it was just the two of us at the lunch table.

I don't know. Why's your nose so fat? I thought. I simply replied, 'Genetics. My maternal OME3A gene is defective, and my paternal copy is dormant.'

'Oh,' she responded.

How come you don't have any abilities? Why don't you have any abilities? It's not like I had a choice in the matter. It's not as though I could easily walk into a store and choose the exact body I wanted or trade it in because it was faulty. Sure, there was a medical explanation for my disorder, but I doubt people were genuinely interested in hearing it. What annoyed me most about the questions was the tone. The sympathetic or often condescending tone that made my condition sound like an unbearable curse.

I came across an article once titled "Ability Dysfunction Syndrome is Real," while researching one of my treatments on my laptop. Citing a few well-known people with AD who were considered to be overachievers and referencing a biased study, the article detailed how the roots of Kimball Complex were justifiable and how people with AD got the short end of the stick. According to the article, research and statistics showed that people with ADSD:

Made less money;

Got married later in life;

Were prone to aggressive outbursts;

Were less intelligent.

The list went on. I slammed my laptop shut at the fourth point.

Allie, Izzy, and Rory settled at the lunch table with their trays. Izzy held her phone to her ear for a long moment before putting it down in disappointment.

'Still nothing?' Allie asked.

Izzy shook her head. 'Nothing.'

Eric hadn't shown up for school, and no one at the table had heard from him.

***

'Aiden Brandt got his second ability. It's cool, but I'm better at it than he is,' Cody boasted while Mum, him, and I sat down for dinner. He yammered on with his mouth full, barely catching a breath. 'It took me just four tries to get it. Ms Bennet said not to tell the others, but she never had a student more gifted than me in all her years of teaching Ability Guidance.'

'You wanna show us?' Mum asked.

Cody looked around, his eyes falling on rolls of bread in a woven bowl at the centre of the dining table. He focused on the bread for a long moment. Nothing happened.

'I don't get it,' he sighed. 'It worked earlier.'

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Nothing. He scrunched his face in concentration. The rolls of bread shrivelled and darkened, the smell of burnt toast filling the air. The dining room lights flickered. The bread burst into flames, spreading to the woven bowl.

'Cody!' Mum yelped.

Cody's eyes snapped open with a start.

Mum grabbed a jar of water from the dining table, dowsing the flames.

'That's very dangerous,' she reprimanded.

Cody remained frozen and wide-eyed in his chair.

'I'm sorry,' he whimpered.

'It's okay,' Mum consoled him. 'That was great, but you need to be more careful, okay?'

Cody nodded.

Mum got up to clean the table, wiping it down with a cloth.

I helped her by refilling the jug of water and getting some fresh bread.

'I haven't seen Allie in a while,' Mum said while I assisted her to reset the table. 'How's she doing?' Mum asked.

I don't know, I said to myself. Probably getting into trouble with the adroit. 'She's all right,' I told Mum.

***

Eric wandered towards Asher's locker while I collected my books from mine. His mind was a million miles away. He was about to reach for the lock when he noticed me. He said, 'Hey,' fidgeting with his hands.

'Hey,' I responded.

He looked around, then back at me before walking away.

Eric was fairly quiet during lunch. He barely contributed to the conversation at the table.

In English class, he didn't sit at his usual spot in the back row — he sat in front.

While the adroit caused a ruckus, Eric was silent and quietly read as instructed when Mrs McKinley stepped out for a few minutes.

The intercom beeped, and the principal's voice boomed. 'Attention all students! I would like to request your prompt gathering in the auditorium.' His tone was stern and urgent. 'I call upon all teachers to please ensure all students are present.'

He repeated the message once more before the closing beep of the intercom.

Mrs McKinley put down her book. 'You heard the principal. Let's make our way to the auditorium.'

I slowly stood up and limped along while the rest of the students chaotically flocked to the exit.

'Orderly,' Mrs McKinley commanded.

Teachers worked together, herding the students into the auditorium.

When I entered, Allie waved at me from a row near the exit. I joined her and the adroit.

Eric sat a few rows in front.

A couple sat beside the principal on stage. I recognised them from the hospital — Asher's parents.

Speculative whispers about the purpose of the assembly filled the air until the principal's voice reverberated through the auditorium. 'Thank you all for attending this assembly on such short notice,' he said, adjusting the microphone on the lectern. His tone was grave, his demeanour serious.

The assembly was dead silent. Not since the principal asked us for a moment of silence for a student who'd passed on a year before had the atmosphere been so dire.

'You are probably wondering why we are here,' the principal said. 'One of your peers. One of our brightest students has gone missing. His loving parents have reached out to the school. They are reaching out to you, his fellow students, classmates, and friends for help in locating him. If you know where Asher Freeman might be or have any information, I urge you to come forward.'

The mention of Asher's name moved his mother to tears. His dad wrapped his arms around her, comforting her.

Eric stood up and left the auditorium.