'I bet she's not even biotic,' Nick continued, staring at her.

She was staring back, though he couldn't actually tell if she was looking at him or someone else in the room.

'She comes to all the training sessions,' one of the boys countered.

'Yeah, but she just sits there. She never does any of the exercises.'

'That's because she's weirdV Seshaun repeated.

He was pretty sure she was staring at him now. He waved his arm wildly above his head, but it elicited no reaction.

'Waving to your girlfriend?'

Nick replied by flipping Seshaun off, a gesture he had only recently learned.

'Why don't you go over and give her a kiss?' Seshaun taunted him.

'Why don't you lick my nut-sack?'

'Just go sit down and talk to her. See what she does.'

'Hendel said nobody's allowed to bother her,' one of the others chimed in.

'Screw Hendel,' Nick replied automatically, though he did glance back over his shoulder to the front of the cafeteria, where the security chief was sitting with some of the teachers.

'Okay, then,' Seshaun pressed him. 'Go over there. Talk to her.'

Nick looked around the table at the faces of the other boys, grinning eagerly as they waited to see if he'd accept the dare.

'Do it and I'll give your cake back,' Seshaun offered, literally sweetening the deal.

Nick hesitated, uncertain. Then his stomach grumbled, making the decision for him. He pushed himself away from the table and jumped to his feet before he could change his mind. He glanced back quickly to make sure Hendel was still busy talking with the other teachers, then ran down the aisle to Gillian's table.

Skidding to a stop, he plopped himself down in the chair across from her. She looked straight at him but didn't say anything. Suddenly he felt awkward and embarrassed.

'Hey,' he said.

She didn't reply, but merely kept chewing the food in her mouth. He noticed her plate was still mostly full: a bowl of soup, two sandwiches, an apple, a banana, a piece of vanilla cake, and half a quart of milk.

The amount of food on her plate wasn't unusual— one of the first things the kids learned was that biotics needed to eat more than other people. But Nick couldn't believe the manner in which she was consuming her meal. Every item on her plate had a bite taken out of it, even the cake.

He watched in fascinated disbelief as she took a bite from one of her sandwiches, set it down, chewed her food slowly and deliberately, swallowed, then picked up the second sandwich to repeat the process. After a single bite she moved on to the apple, then the banana, then the cake, then a drink of milk, then the soup, then back to the first sandwich again. She didn't say a word the entire time.

'Why are you eating like that?' he finally asked, bewildered.

'I'm hungry,' she replied. Her voice was flat and toneless, leading Nick to believe she hadn't meant it as a joke.

'Nobody eats like that,' he told her. When she didn't reply he added, 'You're supposed to eat the soup and sandwiches first. Then the fruit. The cake comes last.'

She stopped mid-bite, the apple poised halfway between her lips and the table. 'When do I drink the milk?' she asked in the same monotone voice.

Nick just shook his head. 'You cannot be for real.'

The nonanswer seemed to satisfy her, because she resumed eating, holding to the familiar pattern of one bite from each item before moving on.

Turning around, Nick looked back at the table with Seshaun and the others. They were laughing and making obscene gestures at him. He turned back to Gillian; she hadn't seemed to notice.

'How come you never do anything in biotic class?' he asked her.

She looked uncomfortable, but didn't answer.

'Do you even know how? I'm pretty good at bi-otics. I can show you a trick, if you want.'

'No,' she said simply.

Nick scowled. He felt like there was something going on that he didn't quite understand, like she was making fun of him somehow. Then he got an idea.

'Careful with your milk,' he said, a nasty grin spreading across his face. 'Looks like it's going to spill.'

As the words left his mouth, he reached out with his mind and pushed. The milk toppled over, drenching the sandwiches and slopping over the tray onto the table before running off the edge to spill on Gillian's lap.

And then Nick found himself flying backward.

Jacob Berg, the Academy's math professor, was in the middle of telling a joke about an asari and a volus who walked into a krogan's bar when, out of the corner of his eye, Hendel saw something that was simultaneously incredible and terrifying.

Near the back of the cafeteria, Nick was hurtling across the room. He flew twenty feet through the air before slamming down on one of the tables. The force of the landing launched lunch trays into the air and snapped the table's legs, sending it crashing to the floor. Several students seated at the table screamed in surprise, and then a stunned hush fell over the room as everyone looked to see who was responsible.

Hendel was as shocked as any of them to see Gillian standing in the back of the room, her hands raised to the sky and her face twisted into a mask of rage and fury. And then, to his horror, he realized that she wasn't done.

The table in front of her flipped over, the empty chairs surrounding it cartwheeling away like they had been kicked by some invisible giant. Lunch trays all around the cafeteria shot straight up to the ceiling, sending a shower of food and cutlery over the students as they came back down.

Panic set in. Screaming students leaped from their seats and raced to the exit at the far end of the cafeteria, knocking one another down in their scrambling haste to escape. Their now-empty chairs were swept up and tossed haphazardly about the room, adding to the chaos.

Hendel was on his feet, moving against the tide of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get closer to Gillian. As big as he was, it was still difficult to wade through the sea of bodies trying to flee the scene.

'Gillian!' he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the screams of the mob.

Nick was still lying on the floor amid the ruins of the table on which he had landed. Hendel dropped to one knee to check on him: he was unconscious, but breathing.

Leaping back to his feet, he continued to press forward, shoving kids roughly aside in his desperation until he broke free of the crowd. Less than thirty feet now separated him from Gillian.

The space between them looked like a tornado had passed through: overturned tables and chairs were strewn about, the floor was slick with spilled food, milk and juice. Gillian still stood at the back wall, her hands still raised up. She was shrieking; a high-pitched, keening wail that sent a shiver down Hen-del's neck.

'Gillian!' he cried out, running toward her. 'Stop this right now!'

He jumped over a downed table, his feet almost sliding out from under him when he landed on the slick remains of someone's lunch on the other side. He pinwheeled his arms for balance, only to be knocked down by a flying chair that struck him from his blind side.

The blow stung but it wasn't disabling. He scrambled back to his feet, his sleeve and knees covered in milk and bits of crushed, soggy bread.

'Gillian!' he shouted again. 'You have to stop!'

She didn't respond, didn't even seem to know he was there. He started moving forward again, his hand dropping down to the stunner at his belt. But he hesitated, and instead of drawing it, he tried one last time to reach her.

'Please, Gillian! Don't make me—' his words were cut off as he was struck by an invisible wave of biotic force. It hit him in the chest like an anvil dropping from on high, knocking the breath from his lungs. He was lifted off his feet and shot straight back like he was on a rope being pulled from behind. He crashed through toppled tables and chairs, banging his head and slamming his elbow so hard it made his right hand go numb.

He came to rest twenty feet later, amid a pile of chairs and lunch trays. Groggy, he struggled to his feet.

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