We were smarter than an average eighth grader, especially the ones who don’t care, but not as smart at Clark, of course. He had the answer to every question the teachers asked, though unlike Hermione Granger from Harry Potter, he didn’t always volunteer to answer questions and when he did, he didn’t wave his hand in the air and practically jump out of his seat. He was an eighth grade genius, but he didn’t flaunt it. It was a Friday and my friend, Jasmine Tea (aka Jaz), and I were on are way to the Tea residence when the most life-changing event of our lives happened. We were walking along the sidewalk when a black car pulled up beside us. The window rolled down, revealing a man with ear-length medium brown hair. His hair had light brown highlights, though I couldn’t tell if they were natural or not. He had dark glasses on. “Ms. Tea and Mr. Murphy,” the man said in a kind of deep voice. “Please get in the car.” “Uh, no thanks,” said Jaz, looking just as freaked out as I was feeling. “Please get in the car,” said the man. He was wearing a black leather jacket and dark pants. “Why should we trust you?” I asked, skeptical. The man looked at me and said, “Felix Murphy, comply, or get forced in.” Jaz and I reached for the door. “Put your rucksacks in the boot of the car.” Jaz and I read too much Harry Potter and speak UK English too much to notice that he used rucksack instead of backpack and boot instead of trunk. We complied with out so much as a second thought. We got in the car. “Where are you taking us?” I asked. “To a place for people with the potential to have special metal abilities. It’s a place for people who are capable of being geniuses; people as smart as you two.” Jaz and I shared a look that asked other, “Why didn’t he take Clark if he wanted geniuses?” “We have a long drive ahead of us. Why don’t you sleep?” When Jaz and I woke up, we were in a room that resembled a hospital room. I got out of the hospital bed I was in and was exploring the room when I heard something. “Good, you’re awake,” said a voice from behind me. I spun around. Mr. Leather Jacket was standing in the corner by the door. “It’s time for class,” he said, ominously. “Are you the teacher?” Jaz asked. “Yes.” “Will we get to meet new students? How many students to a class?” I asked. “Only you and Ms. Tea will be in this class. Others may join later. Come.” He walked us down a hallway to a room that was painted completely blue. It had nothing in it but three chairs, three tables and a whiteboard mounted on one of the walls. One of the table and chair sets was obviously the teacher’s desk and chair. “Please sit down and read this number sequence to yourself.” Leather Jacket said, projecting a number sequence on the whiteboard. “3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375105820974944592307816406286,” is what the board said. “Memorize this number,” said Leather Jacket. A few minutes later, he said, “Time’s up.” Leather Jacket pressed a key on his computer and the number disappeared. He handed a sheet of paper to Jaz and me. “Write down the number.” I could barely remember the number so I just wrote down what I did remember. When Leather Jacket collected and read our papers, he said, “Good. I was right to pick you two.” Jaz and I looked at each other. “Tomorrow, you will both undergo a non-life threatening operation. This operation will improve your mental capabilities and enhance your memory.” “Have you gotten our parents’ approval?” asked Jaz. Leather Jacket nodded. “Will this operation have an impact on our sanity?” I asked. Leather Jacket shook his head. “What’s your name?” Jaz asked. “Noel Beckett.” Leather Jacket said. “You can call me Noel, if you feel like it.” “Okay, Noel.” I said. “It’s obvious we’re going to be staying here tonight. Where exactly are we going to sleep?” “Follow me.” Noel Beckett led us out of the blue classroom and down the hall. The halls were all white, even the doors. Only the metal handles of the doorknobs weren’t white. Noel, in his black attire, and Jaz and me, in out blue sweatshirts, stood out against the whiteness like the thorns on a rose. Noel took a right turn at the end of the hallway. We stopped at the first door. Noel took out two keys and opened the door. He handed one to me and one to Jaz. He pushed the door open. The inside of the room was painted blue and had two beds and one dresser. “Inside the dresser drawers there are some clothes we thought you might like. There are also some books to keep you busy until dinner. I’ll be back for you then. Don’t leave the room.” On Saturday, about three hours after the operation, both Jaz and I were given the same weird number test again. We both remembered all of the numbers. Several other tests like that were issued and Noel was pleased with the results of all of them. He told us that we were making good progress and that tomorrow at 7 am he would take us to the Tea residence.     “We’re here,” said Noel. “Mr. Murphy, Ms. Tea? Do us a favor. Please. Read your textbooks. They will help you achieve academic greatness. Good-bye. I hope to see you around town.”     Jaz and I got out of the black car that we had gone to the Center in. We grabbed our “rucksacks” from the “boot” of the car.     “What do you think he meant by read your textbooks?” I ask Jaz.     “Exactly what he said. So, since we don’t have any homework for this weekend, why don’t we walk into my house and read our social studies textbook? Why don’t we start there and work our way though our subjects?” Jaz responds.     “Let’s do this darn thing,” I say.     “Let’s say that you are only given the first quadrant view of the exponential equation two to the x and the first quadrant view of the quadratic equation x to the second. How do you know which is which?” asked Ms. Sandburg, the math teacher at Thornside.     Jaz, Clark and my hands shot up.     “Jaz?” says Ms. Sandburg.     “You should look at the y-intercepts. The line with a y-intercept of (0,1) should be the exponential equation because any nonzero number to the zeroth power is one,” she says. The whole class turns and stares. We haven’t learned in depth about this stuff yet and Jaz and I aren’t usually the type to read ahead in our textbooks.     “Very good. Now, I’m going to pass out a new packet on exponential stuff. Your assignment for today is to complete the first two pages.”     When I got my packet, I saw that the whole thing seemed like pretty basic stuff to me. I whizzed through the whole 10-page packet in about thirty minutes. After I completed the packet, I raised my hand and looked to my left to see that Jaz was also raising her hand.     “Felix?” asks Ms. Sandburg.     “I, uh, kind of finished.”     “Me too,” says Jaz.     “Are you finished with the whole packet, or just today’s assignment?”     “The whole thing,” Jaz and I chorus.     Ms. Sandburg’s eyebrows shoot up and she says, “Well then. You can read for the rest of the hour.”     I glanced to my right and see that Clark is only halfway through the packet. He’s frowning. I look at Jaz and incline my head toward Clark. She looks at him and then backs at me. She shrugs. We pick up our books, open them and begin to read. About twenty minutes later, Clark slips a note onto my desk.     “Man to man: how are you so smart all of a sudden?” the note reads.     I’m about to tell him all about the operation, but then I realize he’s not going to believe me. So I write, “I decided to read our textbooks. So did Jaz” and I slip the note back to Clark. “Oh, okay,” he writes back. On Tuesday, after science (in which I knew all about velocity, speed, distance, time, position, etc), I’m on my way out the door when Clark bumps into me sort-of, kind-of hard and rushes off without saying “excuse me, Felix,” which is very un-Clark-like. After Latin, Clark is scowling and not the ball of sunshine and rainbows he used to be. The next day, after math class, Clark approaches me and says, “Felix, I need to talk to you and Jaz.” He looks mad, sinister, even. I don’t like the look on his face, but I say, “Okay. We’ll meet you at Washington Park at 3:10.” Three ten comes and Jaz and I find ourselves at Washington Park. There’s nobody there except for us. Soon, Clark shows up. He has a shock machine with him. Not a good sign, you know? “How did you become smart all of a sudden?” He asks, looking grave. “We read our textbooks,” said Jaz carefully. “You’re lying.” “No, we’re not,” I said, still being truthful.     “There’s more to it then.”     “Why does it matter if we’re smarter than you or not?” Jaz asks.     “He’s mad at us, can’t you see that? I don’t know what we did, but don’t provoke him,” I whisper in Jaz’s ear.     “I-it doesn’t,” he said, his voice faltering.     “Photographic memories,” I said realizing that the operation had enhanced them.     “I don’t care anymore.” Clark’s expression quickly twisted into agony, rage and desolation. “I don’t care and nobody else will care if you’re smart, especially where you’re heading.” He held up the shock machine and aimed it at us.     All too late I realized that he had the wrong end pointed at us.     “ZAP!” There was a flash of light and then Clark lay on the ground. The shock that was intended to hurt either Jaz or I, had hurt Clark instead.     “JAZ!” I yelled. “Call 911! Get a jet car here immediately! If we don’t get Clark to a hospital soon, he’ll die!” My voice became not my own, and I couldn’t control what I was saying. “Kill him. He is less intelligent than us. He must die.”     “What are you talking about Felix?” Jaz’s eyes glazed over. “Kill Clark. Pick up the weapon and shock him again.”     “CALL!!!” I screamed.     “I’m on it! Hello? Please come to Washington Park quickly! A guy has just been shocked! Yes. Jasmine Tea. Thank you.”     A minute or two later, a jet car was there and I was volunteering to ride in the back with Clark and the healers.         After a few terrifying hours, the healers finally let Jaz and I see Clark. He is sitting in one of those hospital beds that can look like a huge chair with rails and a bed with rails. He looked weak and drained.     “I’m sorry,” he says. “Jealousy got the better of me.”     “We’re the ones who should be sorry. We were stealing your limelight. You deserve your glory. We don’t. We’re not even organically smart.” Jaz glares at me but I continue anyways, “On Friday, this man named Noel Beckett took us to this strange place we called the Center. Anyway, he did some tests on us and then on Saturday we had this operation completed on us to “improve your mental capabilities and enhance your memory,” as Noel put it. Apparently this operation enhances your photographic memory because we read all of our textbooks and suddenly, there was all this knowledge.” “Well then,” said Clark. “You don’t believe us, do you? Good, cause it’s not true,” says Jaz. “You lie,” I say. “I can smell it on your breath.” Clark laughs. “No, I believe you. It’s just hard to believe. Anyway, I’m sorry for acting like such a jerk.” “It’s okay,” I say. Jaz nods as I continue; “Now we know not to trust Noel Beckett. Especially with the whole weird voice thing. And Jaz’s eyes glazed over.” “Yours did too. So what do you say we find Noel and take him down, once and for all?” Jaz asks. “Let’s do this thing,” nods Clark. 2 Mental, 6-8, page