Free Mind Games by Teri Terry

told Jezzamine about Nanna after you promised you wouldn’t?’
    ‘I didn’t tell her anything.’
    ‘Sure you didn’t. Just like you didn’t have a jealous fit when Hex dragged me off to have dinner in Hackerville.’
    She crosses her arms. ‘All right, I did. A little. It was stupid, and I’m sorry. But why’d you have to stomp off like that after dinner? And I’d spent ages getting everyone to agree that you could sit with us at dinner, and then you wouldn’t. How do you think that made me look?’
    ‘Sure. Whatever. I suppose that is what you were talking to Jezzamine about.’
    I get up, head for the shower. Turn back, find her dress. ‘Thanks for the loan, but please take it back.’ And hand it to her and walk out the door.
    I’m actually shaking.
    She said she didn’t tell Jezzamine. But how else could she have known? There wasn’t anybody else there. Even Sally doesn’t talk about Nanna; she goes to pains to hide her away.
    I make it to the grand hall just before the IQ test results get pinned up on boards. Everyone rushes to look; I hang back, wait for the crowd to thin.
    Some faces are happy; others are sad. Some are angry, and there are glares directed at me from my school. Jezzamine walks past. ‘Did you do OK?’ I ask sweetly. She ignores me.
    Most have gone when Gecko walks in behind me, and I hand him his hoodie. ‘Heh,’ he says. ‘Ready for the big moment?’
    ‘Yep. Are you?’
    He shrugs.
    We walk up to the board together. The names are split into ten even groups, ranked in grade order.
    I scan the names in the top group, and there it is: Luna Iverson . I sort of knew, but shock makes me look again: it’s still there. I really did it. Despite thinking it may have been a bad idea, there is a warm glow inside: I proved them wrong. And Hex is on the top list, too. And Gecko. I find Melrose in the fourth group – middling to good, just where her dad said she’d be – Jezzamine is there also. There is a note that the bottom two groups must pack and transport has been arranged: their IQ results aren’t good enough, they’re being sent home. The rest of us are to assemble in the hall after lunch.
    I glance at Gecko; he so doesn’t look happy. But this can’t wait.
    ‘Can we talk?’ I say. He nods, and we walk away from the board. Out the door, away from the others chatting and milling about outside.
    ‘I can’t believe we’re both in the top ten percent,’ he says, and shakes his head.
    ‘Gee, thanks.’
    ‘It’s just that the others in the top group are all Hackers. So, how’d you do it?’
    ‘Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I know I smashed the test; it was like there was this clever part of me taking over.’ I shake my head. He puts his hoodie on the grass, gestures for me to sit on it, then drops down next to me.
    ‘And I really shouldn’t be in the top group,’ he says. ‘I failed the test.’
    ‘No, you didn’t!’
    ‘Oh yes I did. For every question I put the most obviously wrong answer: I failed it spectacularly, and went way over time, too. Maybe it would have been wiser to just do average on it?’ He shakes his head.
    ‘I don’t understand. Why would they put you in the top group if you failed?’
    ‘They went to a lot of trouble to get me here, and more trouble, with that force field, to keep me here. Were they going to let me just fail the test when they’ve so obviously got plans for me? This IQ result proves they’re up to something. If only I knew what it was.’
    I stare back at Gecko, shocked into silence, goosebumps cold on my arms despite the spring sunshine on my skin. Can they really fake results? But even if they could, why on earth would they?
    No way. He’s acting in his own play; he must be making all this up. And that story about being brought here against his will, and thinking the force field was there just for him. If it were all true, why would he even tell me? He doesn’t really know me: how could he know I wouldn’t tell