Maybe.
The computer screen called to him. It had always been better than candy to Jack. Better than anything. He longed desperately to be able to get back online, back to Google. Back to Gizmodo. Back to . . . to more sites than he could list.
Jack did have a free pass to Albert’s club. He had spent part of a day helping Albert set up the sound system—easy work—and had earned a sort of VIP pass. So if Brianna was there, and she actually did want him to be there, too, well, he could go.
He made the decision very suddenly and acted on it very suddenly, in a hurry lest he change his mind. He leaped for the door and crushed the door handle in overeager fingers. Now it wouldn’t turn, but it was easy enough to rip the door open. There was some damage, but nothing major.
The club was loud—the sound system seemed to be working just fine—and crowded with too many kids. Albert was holding a line of them at the door.
“Sorry, folks, but the maximum occupancy is seventy-five,” Albert said. Then he spotted Jack. “Jack, how’s it going?”
“What? Oh, fine.” Jack was confused as to how to proceed. He didn’t want to wait in line if Brianna wasn’t even inside.
“You look like a man with a question,” Albert prompted.
“Well, I’m kind of looking for Brianna. We had this . . . it’s a . . . tech thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Breeze is already inside.”
One of the kids in the line said, “Of course she is, she’s a freak. They always get in.”
A second kid nodded. “Yeah, the freaks don’t wait in lines. Bet she didn’t have to pay, either.”
Albert said, “Hey, she got here a little before you guys did and she waited. And she paid.” Then to Jack. “Go ahead in.”
“See?” the first kid crowed. “He’s one, too.”
“Dude, he set up my sound system,” Albert said. “What have you done for me other than stand here and bust on me?”
Jack, embarrassed, slid past Albert and into the room. About half the kids were dancing. The rest were camped out in chairs and sitting on tables talking. It took Jack a while to adjust to the lighting and the noise.
He searched for Brianna while trying to look casual. He spotted Quinn, dancing all alone, and Dekka, sitting silent, brooding in a corner.
Standing near Dekka but not with her was a kid Jack thought at first seemed familiar. A boy, maybe twelve, no older, with a shaved head, and a bandage on his nose. Jack noticed the boy because the boy was staring at him. The instant Jack made eye contact the boy looked away.
Jack heard a rising chorus of happy, encouraging shouts and clapping hands. He followed the sound and there was Brianna. She was dancing alone—no one could possibly have danced with her—keeping her own accelerated beat ten times faster than the music.
Her dress sort of floated around her, not quite attached, a blue cloud. Jack found the effect utterly fascinating. Brianna wasn’t what people would call beautiful, she was more in the “cute” category. But there was something about her that made her hard to ignore. And not just the fact that she was the Breeze.
“Go, Breeze,” someone yelled.
But another voice yelled, “Quit showing off, stupid mutant.”
Brianna stopped dead. Her dress settled back into place. “Who said that?”
Zil. The same jerk who had picked on Jack over the phones.
“Me,” Zil said, stepping forward. “And don’t bother trying to look tough. I’m not scared of you, freak.”
“You should be,” Brianna hissed.
Suddenly there was Dekka, up off her chair, hand extended between Brianna and Zil. “No,” she said in her deep voice. “None of that.”
Quinn joined her. “Dekka’s right, we can’t be having fights and stuff here. Sam will shut this place down.”
“Maybe we should have two different clubs,” a seventh grader named Antoine said. “You know, one for freaks and one for normals.”
“Man, what is the matter with you?” Quinn demanded.
“I don’t like her acting like she’s so cool, is all,” Zil said, stepping beside Antoine.
“You should be on our side, Quinn. Everyone knows you’re a normal,” another kid, Lance, said. “Well . . . kind of normal. You’re still Quinn.”
“Knock it off,” Dekka growled.
“I can take care of myself,” Brianna snapped at Dekka. “I can handle both these little twerps, slap them both down so fast, they wouldn’t even see it happening.”
“Be cool,” Dekka said to her. “Why don’t you just have a good time and not put on a show?”
For a second Brianna looked as if she might challenge Dekka. But Dekka never flinched, just waited.
Brianna sighed theatrically. “Okay. The Breeze is not into making trouble. The Breeze is all about a good time.” She made a sort of curtsy to Dekka, which Dekka accepted with a nod.
The music rose again and kids went back to dancing or hanging around.
“Hey, Jack,” Brianna said. “You came.”
“Yeah.”
“So. You think you could beat Dekka?” she asked.
The question startled him. His mouth dropped open.
“Kidding. Just kidding,” Brianna said. “Dekka’s actually very cool. Not as cool as me, of course.”
“No one is as cool as you,” Jack blurted.
Brianna accepted this as though it were only her natural due. “You want to dance?”
The computer screen called to him. It had always been better than candy to Jack. Better than anything. He longed desperately to be able to get back online, back to Google. Back to Gizmodo. Back to . . . to more sites than he could list.
Jack did have a free pass to Albert’s club. He had spent part of a day helping Albert set up the sound system—easy work—and had earned a sort of VIP pass. So if Brianna was there, and she actually did want him to be there, too, well, he could go.
He made the decision very suddenly and acted on it very suddenly, in a hurry lest he change his mind. He leaped for the door and crushed the door handle in overeager fingers. Now it wouldn’t turn, but it was easy enough to rip the door open. There was some damage, but nothing major.
The club was loud—the sound system seemed to be working just fine—and crowded with too many kids. Albert was holding a line of them at the door.
“Sorry, folks, but the maximum occupancy is seventy-five,” Albert said. Then he spotted Jack. “Jack, how’s it going?”
“What? Oh, fine.” Jack was confused as to how to proceed. He didn’t want to wait in line if Brianna wasn’t even inside.
“You look like a man with a question,” Albert prompted.
“Well, I’m kind of looking for Brianna. We had this . . . it’s a . . . tech thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Breeze is already inside.”
One of the kids in the line said, “Of course she is, she’s a freak. They always get in.”
A second kid nodded. “Yeah, the freaks don’t wait in lines. Bet she didn’t have to pay, either.”
Albert said, “Hey, she got here a little before you guys did and she waited. And she paid.” Then to Jack. “Go ahead in.”
“See?” the first kid crowed. “He’s one, too.”
“Dude, he set up my sound system,” Albert said. “What have you done for me other than stand here and bust on me?”
Jack, embarrassed, slid past Albert and into the room. About half the kids were dancing. The rest were camped out in chairs and sitting on tables talking. It took Jack a while to adjust to the lighting and the noise.
He searched for Brianna while trying to look casual. He spotted Quinn, dancing all alone, and Dekka, sitting silent, brooding in a corner.
Standing near Dekka but not with her was a kid Jack thought at first seemed familiar. A boy, maybe twelve, no older, with a shaved head, and a bandage on his nose. Jack noticed the boy because the boy was staring at him. The instant Jack made eye contact the boy looked away.
Jack heard a rising chorus of happy, encouraging shouts and clapping hands. He followed the sound and there was Brianna. She was dancing alone—no one could possibly have danced with her—keeping her own accelerated beat ten times faster than the music.
Her dress sort of floated around her, not quite attached, a blue cloud. Jack found the effect utterly fascinating. Brianna wasn’t what people would call beautiful, she was more in the “cute” category. But there was something about her that made her hard to ignore. And not just the fact that she was the Breeze.
“Go, Breeze,” someone yelled.
But another voice yelled, “Quit showing off, stupid mutant.”
Brianna stopped dead. Her dress settled back into place. “Who said that?”
Zil. The same jerk who had picked on Jack over the phones.
“Me,” Zil said, stepping forward. “And don’t bother trying to look tough. I’m not scared of you, freak.”
“You should be,” Brianna hissed.
Suddenly there was Dekka, up off her chair, hand extended between Brianna and Zil. “No,” she said in her deep voice. “None of that.”
Quinn joined her. “Dekka’s right, we can’t be having fights and stuff here. Sam will shut this place down.”
“Maybe we should have two different clubs,” a seventh grader named Antoine said. “You know, one for freaks and one for normals.”
“Man, what is the matter with you?” Quinn demanded.
“I don’t like her acting like she’s so cool, is all,” Zil said, stepping beside Antoine.
“You should be on our side, Quinn. Everyone knows you’re a normal,” another kid, Lance, said. “Well . . . kind of normal. You’re still Quinn.”
“Knock it off,” Dekka growled.
“I can take care of myself,” Brianna snapped at Dekka. “I can handle both these little twerps, slap them both down so fast, they wouldn’t even see it happening.”
“Be cool,” Dekka said to her. “Why don’t you just have a good time and not put on a show?”
For a second Brianna looked as if she might challenge Dekka. But Dekka never flinched, just waited.
Brianna sighed theatrically. “Okay. The Breeze is not into making trouble. The Breeze is all about a good time.” She made a sort of curtsy to Dekka, which Dekka accepted with a nod.
The music rose again and kids went back to dancing or hanging around.
“Hey, Jack,” Brianna said. “You came.”
“Yeah.”
“So. You think you could beat Dekka?” she asked.
The question startled him. His mouth dropped open.
“Kidding. Just kidding,” Brianna said. “Dekka’s actually very cool. Not as cool as me, of course.”
“No one is as cool as you,” Jack blurted.
Brianna accepted this as though it were only her natural due. “You want to dance?”
