Better Late Than Never

cafeteria. Heather-in-the-office would kill for a chance to sit at that table.

But Sarah wasn't Heather-in-the-office. 'I'm sorry, Amanda. I just can't.'

She sounded as if she meant it, too. Amanda rearranged her features into an expression that she hoped looked menacing. 'Sarah, do you remember what my gift is?'

'Of course I do--you talked about it yesterday.'

'Well, what if I took over your body and made Ken ask me out? I mean, me-Amanda, not me-you.'

Sarah didn't seem the least bit frightened. 'You'd have to feel sorry for me first, Amanda. And you don't, do you?'

She was right. Sarah wasn't the coolest, prettiest, or most popular girl at Meadowbrook, but there was nothing pathetic about her either. Amanda gave up on the idea of using Sarah. She'd have to find another way to reach Ken.

The others were coming in now, so she went back to her own seat. As usual, Ken came in last, and he still had that distracted expression on his face. She didn't even bother trying to catch his attention. What was she going to do? There had to be a way.

The bell rang, class started, and Madame called on Tracey to give her report. Amanda didn't bother listening--having been Tracey, she knew Tracey's story by heart. Tracey had been a happy only child, then her mother had septuplets, Tracey was ignored, she started to disappear, blah-blah-blah. Amanda spent the time doodling, trying to come up with a way to get Ken's attention. What if she went to his house, knocked on his door, and asked him to--

'Amanda?'

She looked up. 'Yes, Madame?'

'Don't you have something to say to Tracey?' The teacher gazed at her sternly. 'Apparently you weren't listening. Tracey was thanking you for helping her learn to assert herself.'

Sarah turned to look at her with a startled expression, as if she was surprised to learn that Amanda could do something nice for someone else. Jenna was looking at her, too, and grinning--she'd known when Amanda had been inside Tracey's body because of her mind-reading skills. And she knew perfectly well that Amanda hadn't been trying to improve Tracey's life--only her own for as long as she was stuck being Tracey. But there was only one reaction Amanda was really interested in.

She looked at Ken. He was staring out the window, daydreaming, maybe, or listening to dead people, but in any case, he obviously hadn't been paying attention to Tracey's story. What a relief.

Madame was still staring at her. 'Amanda?'

'Oh, yeah. Uh, that's okay. I mean, you're welcome. Whatever.'

Madame called on Martin next. The boy--who looked to be at least two years younger than anyone else-- spoke in a very annoying, whiny voice, which made it hard to listen to his story.

'It was a couple of years ago. I was shooting baskets in my driveway.'

The thought of undersized Martin playing basketball was almost too much for Amanda to deal with, but she knew better than to show it. But neither Jenna nor Charles had her self-control, and they started laughing. Martin clenched his fists.

Madame rapped on her desk. 'Stop it at once! Martin, remember your exercise. Close your eyes and count backward from ten.'

Amanda half hoped that the exercise wouldn't work. She'd never actually seen Martin demonstrate his gift. It would be interesting to see if he would attack a person in a wheelchair. As for Jenna, Amanda wouldn't mind seeing her get shaken up a little.

But Martin relaxed, and the animal or whatever was inside him calmed down.

'Anyway, a couple of guys came by and said they wanted to play with me. Only they kept the ball and wouldn't let me have it. I tried to get it back, but they were bigger than me. And they laughed.'

He didn't have to say more. Everyone knew what happened when Martin thought people were making fun of him.

'Did you hurt them badly?' Madame asked.

'One of them got away. I broke the other one's arm, but that was all.'

'So you were able to restrain yourself,' Madame commented.

'Well, not exactly. It's just that he was screaming so hard that I lost the feeling.'

Supposedly, it was this 'feeling' that gave Martin the strength of a bear or some other type of strong animal. In any case, his power went beyond anything a normal human being could do--even a big bodybuilder.

'And that's the first time you remember getting the feeling?' Madame asked.

'Yeah, I think so. But my mother told me that when I was three, my father took a toy away from me and I pushed him across the room. My father says she dreamed this and it never happened.' He grinned. 'But he never tried to take anything away from me again, so I guess he learned his lesson. I must have done a pretty good job for a three-year-old.'

'This is nothing to be proud of, Martin,' Madame reprimanded. 'You have to learn to channel your strength and direct it appropriately.'

'Maybe you could go into demolition work someday,' Jenna suggested. 'I'll bet you'd be great at tearing down buildings.'

Martin considered this. 'I'd rather tear down people.'

Sarah gasped. 'Martin! That's not right!'

'It's their own fault,' Martin complained. 'People are always picking on me. I'm small, so they think they can push me around. If they didn't pick on me, I wouldn't get the feeling and I couldn't hurt them.'

'Martin, you have to take responsibility for your gift,' Madame said. 'We'll hear from Jenna next.'

Luckily, Jenna was saved by the bell--not the usual one, but the three special chimes that signified an announcement was about to be made over the intercom. This was followed by the disembodied voice of the principal's secretary.

'Would Jenna Kelley please come to the office?'

Everyone looked at Jenna, who immediately went all defensive. 'I didn't do anything!'

'Just go to the office, Jenna,' Madame said. 'You can give your report another day.'

Lucky dog, Amanda thought. It was very likely that Madame would forget that Jenna hadn't given her report and would never call on her again to do it. Jenna didn't deserve the good fortune.

On the other hand, Jenna was on her way to Mr. Jackson's office. Amanda brightened. Nobody ever got called to the principal's office for a good reason.

Chapter 6

JENNA RACKED HER BRAIN, trying to think of a reason for being called to the office so that she could come up with a story or an excuse to get out of it. She'd done plenty of bad things in her time at Meadowbrook, but she hadn't broken any major school rules recently. She hadn't been cutting classes--not for a while, anyway. She hadn't cheated on any tests lately. Come to think of it, she'd been unusually good the past couple of weeks, not even going to the mall and hanging out with Slug and Skank, the lowlife types she'd befriended on the street. She hadn't even seen them since they'd been picked up for shoplifting.

What could be so big that she'd be called out of class? Had they looked in her locker and found something bad? Okay, it was a mess, but there weren't any cigarettes or drugs or alcohol stashed away. Surely you didn't get called to the office for a couple of Kit Kat bars.

Then another possibility occurred to her, and she felt sick. Her mother . . . had something happened to her mother? Her legs turned to jelly and she stopped walking. That was definitely the kind of thing a person would be called out of class for--a family situation. Something really terrible, like an accident or … or worse.

Her mother. She was weak, she was an alcoholic, she'd never win any mother-of-the-year prizes, but jenna