The Intuitives

After several business people came and went, along with a mother carrying an infant in a travel seat and then a small group of twenty-somethings who looked to be on vacation together, Miss Williams called out, “Samantha,” and waved at a teenage girl who appeared to be about Daniel’s age.

She was wearing faded jeans over what looked like a very heavy pair of motorcycle boots, a black T-shirt emblazoned across the chest with a Batman logo, and a silver ear cuff in each ear. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder—a black leather bag with studs that looked like rivets. The girl didn’t walk as much as she sauntered, and suddenly the dystopian lyrics of “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons were blaring in Daniel’s head.

Daniel raised one eyebrow and tried not to smile as she approached them, imagining slow motion strides and smoke effects, the blue streaks in her hair being lifted from below by a high-speed fan, as though she were a model in a music video—assuming the model looked like she was ready to beat someone up.

Note to self, he thought, this is not the girl to cross.

“Welcome, Samantha,” Miss Williams was saying. “I’m Christina Williams. We’re so pleased you could come spend the summer with us.”

“Thanks,” was all the girl said, dropping her bag at her feet and shaking the woman’s hand.

Roman eyed her cautiously, but all he saw around her were a scattering of small, white flames, whizzing around her so fast that they left light trails in their wake. In the first instant, he had been reminded of Marquon’s bees, and he had taken an involuntary step away from her, but he saw almost immediately that these were not angry, red bees. They were just lights, flying in regular patterns, several of them crossing each other, but never colliding.

“You OK?” Sam asked him, having seen his reaction. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” She said this with a hint of a grin, and Roman decided that he liked her.

“I like your hair,” Roman said. “The blue, I mean. It’s cool.”

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling even more warmly.

“I’m Roman.”

“Roman,” she said. “Like the Coliseum. That’s easy enough. I’m Sam.” She reached out and shook his hand without seeming to think about it, as though she came from a world in which teenagers shook hands on a regular basis.

“And you are…?” she asked, turning to Daniel, who finally allowed himself to smile a little at her “Radioactive” theme song, trusting that the grin would be taken as nothing more than an attempt to be friendly.

“Daniel,” he replied.

“OK then,” she said, cocking her head a bit to one side and staring at him thoughtfully. “Daniel. Like Daniel in the lion’s den. Got it.” But she didn’t offer to shake hands, both of hers remaining firmly planted on her hips, and Daniel wondered vaguely whether or not he should be insulted.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he quipped, smiling to show he wasn’t taking offense.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“The lion’s den,” he explained. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Nothing personal. I have trouble remembering names sometimes, so I try to think of associations. Like, you’re lions, and Roman here is the Coliseum, which is kind of funny when you think about it. You know, lions in the Coliseum.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Daniel answered. He really wasn’t sure what to make of this girl at all. She was definitely different.

“You can make one up about me if you want.”

“Pretty sure I can remember ‘Sam,’” he replied. He realized suddenly that he might be insulting her, since she had just admitted she couldn’t remember ‘Daniel’ without a catchphrase, but she only shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “How much time do we have before the next arrival?”

This last was addressed to Miss Williams, who smiled again.

“Seventeen minutes, according to the monitor.”

“Great,” Sam said, snatching up the bag that she had dropped on the floor and hoisting it back over her shoulder. “’Cause I need to use the bathroom.”

? ? ?

Fifteen minutes later, the gathering crew had migrated to yet another gate, and now Miss Williams was holding up a sign that said “Mackenzie Gray.”

The girl who emerged through the door this time was a bit taller than Sam, her slim but well-muscled torso clearly defined beneath a tight, brown T-shirt. Her blond hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, and her blue eyes narrowed in on their group immediately. She strode toward them with quick, purposeful strides.

“Mackenzie Gray, reporting for duty, ma’am,” she said, standing stiffly before Miss Williams.

“Mackenzie,” Miss Williams replied. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Christina Williams, as you have obviously deduced. But there’s no need for formality here. You may call me Christina, and these are some of your classmates for the summer: Sam, Daniel, and Roman.”

Mackenzie nodded briefly at each of them in turn, repeating their names one by one.

“Sam. Daniel. Roman.”

“Reporting for duty?” Sam said, raising an eyebrow. “Really? We’re not in the military, Private Benjamin.”

“My name isn’t Benjamin,” Mackenzie replied neutrally. She had met enough new people in her life to recognize a personality test when she saw one, and she saw this one coming from a mile away. “It’s Gray. Mackenzie Gray.”

“It’s from a movie,” Sam replied. If she was expecting a comeback, it never arrived.

“Is it a good movie? I love movies.” Her voice was all innocence and sunshine, but something in her eyes said test me all you want, little girl—I eat civilians for breakfast.

Sam didn’t answer her, so Mackenzie held her gaze a moment longer and then moved on to Daniel.

“Hi,” Mackenzie tried.

But Daniel was tongue-tied. It wasn’t that she was beautiful, although she was. It was that she looked like she knew how to break at least seven different bones in his body before he could move a muscle. The lyrics of “Fighter” by Christina Aguilera came to mind, and he had the distinct feeling that she might head-butt him to the floor at any moment, despite her calm demeanor.

He nodded, acknowledging her greeting, but he didn’t say a word.

“OK,” she said, drawing the word out so that it sounded more like, “Ohhhhh kaaaaay.”

“How about you, Roman?” she asked, moving on down the line. “Looks like I could use a friend around here. You want to be my friend?”

Roman nodded vigorously. From the moment she had walked through the door, Roman had been mesmerized. In his mind’s eye, he saw her skeleton, every bone in her body glowing with soft, white light, but that skeleton stood within a giant golden bear with its own golden skeleton, standing on its hind legs to mimic her posture, its head towering above her, every one of its huge golden bones tied to her own, as though she were some kind of cosmic puppeteer.

When she walked, the bear walked. When she spoke, the bear spoke, mirroring her movements. Bears could be protective, or terrifyingly dangerous, depending on whether they considered you a friend or an enemy. Roman absolutely, definitely, no doubt about it, wanted to be her friend.

“Good. We’re friends then.”

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