Ungifted (6 page)

We didn't even have the dumb rules that ruined everything. For example, soda was banned at my old school because of the sugar content. But the Academy lunchroom had a drink machine that was open to everybody. It even sold the extra-sugar, extra-caffeine stuff. It was fine, even necessary to fuel the brainiacs through late-night studying marathons. But if one of the ungifted kids at Hardcastle happened to get a sip, he'd go straight out and rob a bank.

Technically, my six-month ban for swimming in the fountain was still in effect. But the security guard who had busted me wasn't on duty. It was a bum rap. It isn't skinny-dipping if you're wearing boxers. Besides, if the air-conditioning is going to break down on a ninety-degree day, it's management's responsibility to fix it before people start looking for other ways to cool off.

The Daniels had never experienced the Academy cafeteria, so they thought the food court was fine dining. We weren't eating anyway. I was on a bench, trying to ignore the Daniels' whooping and yipping, designed to catch the attention of a couple of girls.

“Do something funny, Donovan,” Nussbaum urged. “Chicks eat that stuff up.”

I glared at him. “If you want to talk to Heather Mahoney, why don't you walk over there?”

“Because that would be lame,” he explained reasonably. “
She
has to come to
me
.”

“Jump in the fountain again,” Sanderson urged me. “That's an attention grabber.”

“
You
jump in the fountain,” I shot back.

He grabbed me under the arms, but I disarmed him with a punch to the gut before Nussbaum could help him wrestle me into the water.

It did the trick, though. Heather and her friend—Deirdre Somebody—were ambling in our direction.

“Hi, Donovan,” Heather addressed me. “Haven't seen you for a few days. Were you sick?”

“Donovan's a genius now,” Sanderson supplied. “He goes to the gifted Academy.”

“Really?” Deirdre was impressed. “Don't you have to take a lot of tests for that?”

“It's no big deal,” I put in quickly, studying the floor.

“You're telling me!” Nussbaum exclaimed. “You know how he got picked? He's only there because—”

I stomped on his sneaker hard, silencing him before he could say more.

“Donovan!” came another voice.

It took me a second to recognize her. It was Chloe from the Academy. She said something to a middle-aged woman and headed toward our table.

“Who's that?” Sanderson asked.

“She's in my new homeroom,” I replied.

Nussbaum snickered. “Nice lumberjack shirt.”

Funny—surrounded by the kids at the Academy, Chloe looked kind of good. Call it the Youkilis factor; the gifted crew wasn't exactly Fashion Week. Yet next to Heather and Deirdre, you could tell she was out of her league. Those two wore skinny jeans and vintage T-shirts that were just—well,
right
. Chloe wasn't ugly or anything like that—in fact, she had a pretty face. But you had to concentrate to notice it. She wore no makeup, and her loose flannel shirt gave her a lumpy appearance. A huge button on her lapel declared:
THAT
'
S OKAY, PLUTO. I
'
M NOT A PLANET EITHER
. It clanked as she walked.

I was surprised to see her at all outside of school. I always thought of her as one of those people who suddenly whooshes into being at the sound of the first bell in the morning, and winks out again when the clock strikes three-thirty.

“Hi, Donovan,” she greeted me eagerly. “Do you live around here?”

“Hey, Chloe.” She was looking expectantly at the others, so I semi-introduced them. “Meet the guys.”

“Hi, Chloe.” Nussbaum stepped forward and pumped her hand. The grin on his face was barely this side of idiotic. “How does it feel to have Donovan in the Academy? I mean, is he gifted or what?”

“I think it's ‘or what,'” Sanderson said with a smirk.

Chloe could tell they were messing with her, but she had no idea how much. “Donovan's cool,” she offered tentatively. She turned back to me. “Sorry about what happened in math today. How did it go with Oz?”

For some reason, I felt I had to defend myself. “I never meant to cheat off Abigail. I was
trying
to cheat off Noah. How was I supposed to know he puts down the wrong answers on purpose? I thought he was this big genius.”

“He definitely doesn't feel the need to prove it,” she replied with a sympathetic smile. “Abigail's the opposite. If she ever brought home a B-plus, it would be the end of the world.”

“She practically tore my head off.”

“She's under a lot of pressure,” Chloe explained. “She does just about everything, and she's keeping half the tutors in town in business. She pushes herself pretty hard.”

“I never thought the gifted kids had problems,” mused Deirdre.

“It's those big brains,” Nussbaum supplied wisely. “It makes a person top-heavy, out of balance. Like the Atlas statue.”

“How crazy was that?” Heather exclaimed. “I was at the game! The girl at the end of my row was covered in broken glass!”

“They still haven't found the guy who did it,” Deirdre added.

“I heard it was an accident,” I suggested, looking daggers at Nussbaum. “Wear and tear on the statue. It can't be easy to hold up the weight of the world in the wind and rain year after year—especially when it's attached by one bolt.”

“One bolt,” Chloe repeated dubiously. “That's pretty shoddy engineering. We put more thought into Tin Man's stress points.”

“Tin Man?” Sanderson echoed.

“Our class robot,” I answered, and bit my tongue. “I mean the robot that happens to live in the homeroom I got assigned to.”

“It's your robot, too,” Chloe said generously. “You're on the robotics team now. Maybe you'll put us over the top at the big meet. We've come in second to Cold Spring Harbor three years in a row.”

You could just see the Daniels swelling up with joy at this new information. Not only did I go to the nerd school, but I was on the robotics team, which was nerd squared. No way could I ever live this down in only one lifetime.

Chloe waved at the woman she'd arrived with. “Got to go. My mom's done shopping.” She beamed at me. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” I mumbled.

“We should hop too,” Heather put in. “Our ride will be here any minute.”

I hated to see them leave. When it was just me and the Daniels, I knew I was going to get it.

Nussbaum didn't disappoint. “Some girlfriend you've got there, Donovan. Or is she just a regular friend, and you're dating Tin Man?”

“I can't believe Tin Man's cheating on Tin Woman.” Sanderson clucked disapprovingly. “She must be hot. She probably doesn't wear her grandfather's plaid shirt.”

“Shut up, you guys. Chloe's not my girlfriend and it isn't my robot. I'm only on the robotics team because my homeroom teacher is the coach. I have to try to fit in over there, and believe me, it isn't easy—and not just because I haven't got the brainpower. You heard about the guy who tried to flunk the math test—the teacher had to trick him into admitting he understood it. So he's a genius and a moron all in one. It's a nuthouse!”

“Well, it's not safe to come back to Hardcastle yet,” Sanderson advised. “We had an assembly today, and that guy Schultz was standing right at the door. He looked at every single face that came into the gym. I'll bet he's searching for you, man! He didn't even stick around. He just watched us file in and took off.”

I felt ice-cold tentacles wrapping around my stomach. It was my worst fear coming true, but at least it settled one issue. All day I'd been asking myself what I was doing at the Academy for Scholastic Distinction. Now I knew.

I was hiding out.

I
f I didn't know better, I'd swear that Donovan Curtis wasn't gifted at all. I'd bet a month's pay that an eighth-grade boy had been chosen at absolute random and dropped into the top academy for differentiated instruction in the state.

But I did know better. Our selection procedure was ironclad. Students had to pass a battery of tests from the state department of education, not to mention faculty interviews, and even a psychological exam. A mosquito couldn't make it through the screening process.

Our last faculty meeting was essentially a seminar on Donovan Curtis. It turned out to be quite a revelation. All his teachers had realized that he was weak in their courses, and had assumed that his gifts lay elsewhere. But after comparing notes, it became clear that his gifts lay
nowhere
. He was mediocre in English, social studies, French, and computer science, and well below average in math and science. I didn't expect him to excel at
everything
, but Donovan excelled at
nothing
. Which begged the question: What was he doing at the Academy?

“Have you tried getting him involved with the robotics team?” asked our principal, Brian Del Rio.

I nodded. “He's our designated Googler.”

“Your what?”

“He has no knowledge of programming, engineering, hydraulics, pneumatics, or even basic mechanics. So he surfs the internet looking for pictures to download and paste on Tin Man. Like Albert Einstein eating a banana.”

Brian frowned. “What's Tin Man?”

“The robot. It's short for Tin Man Metallica Squarepants. Donovan's idea.”

“You don't think he's putting us on, do you?” suggested Ellie Shapiro, the department head for social studies. “Some of these bright kids have a warped sense of humor.”

“I doubt it,” I told her. “To be honest, the other kids love what he does with the graphics. And nobody's ever thought of naming the robot before. I admit I wasn't too crazy about the idea. At first I only went along with it to empower Donovan. But you know what? I'm glad we did it.”

“It's very cute,” Ellie agreed.

“It's more than cute,” I amended. “It's humanized our entire program. The difference between dealing with an
it
and a
him
is a transformative concept.”

“Maybe that's our answer,” Brian mused. “Dozens of brilliant kids pass through your class, building machines that win prizes at the highest levels. Yet the simplest thing—naming a piece of equipment, or decorating it—gets by everybody except Donovan.”

Maria Bevelaqua—math—spoke up. “Or he does it because he can't do anything else. He doodles through my class. He hasn't taken a single note.”

I jumped on this. “A photographic memory?”

“He's lucky he can remember his own name,” she deadpanned. “I asked him what school he came from, and you know what he said? ‘I forget.' If that's a photographic memory, he left the lens cap on.”

“Perhaps it's a kind of social intelligence,” Brian ventured, really reaching.

“Oh, please,” Maria snorted. “He may seem like a smooth operator compared to our usual clientele. But there's nothing special about him in that way either.”

“I have to agree,” I said wearily. “He alienated Abigail on day one. And he causes a lot of friction in the lab. Latrell feels threatened by him, and Jacey doesn't know what to make of him.”

“Jacey doesn't know quite what to make of anyone,” Ellie cut in.

“Chloe comes the closest to understanding him, but they butt heads too,” I went on. “And as for Noah—”

“Noah's so smart that most of us can't even begin to imagine what's going on in his head,” Maria put in.

I sighed. “Maybe. But the reverse is also true. Noah can't understand not understanding. And there's Donovan, who understands
nothing
. To Noah, he's like some exotic space alien who crash-landed in the gifted program.”

“Maybe Noah isn't wrong about that,” Maria challenged.