THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

intuition, power or energy. Was that right?
    “Do you understand what I’m saying, Rayen?” she asked, alerting me that she could tell my mind had wandered. Again.
    “Yes.”  That word worked a whole lot better than constantly saying no, like I’d been doing up until now.
    Dr. Maxwell leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk, but his eyes hadn’t warmed at all. Snake eyes. “What Mrs. Brown is trying to tell you is that she and Mr. Brown award a small number of positions to select students from less fortunate homes, depending on how the student tests. We understand that some teens run away from bad situations. We can’t guarantee that you’ll get a placement here without gaining permission from your family, or if you don’t qualify after testing, but if you tell us the truth about who you are and where you’re from, we’ll assign you an academic advisor and see what we can do.”
    They wanted me to stay? Here? Why? I couldn’t swallow past the knot of tension in my throat. I didn’t belong here.
    But I had no idea where I did belong.
    Mrs. Brown tapped a finger on my arm. “Who’s your family?”
    A question I couldn’t answer with yes or no. “I don’t know.”  I was tired of being viewed as a bug with no more sense than to run under the nearest boot heel. I opened my mouth to say, I woke up in the desert, disoriented and with a beast chasing me , but that survival instinct kicked in again, warning me that less was more right now.
    “Don’t know?”  Mr. Maxwell’s calm face slipped, showing his true feelings. Irritation. Disgust. He glanced at Mr. Brown, his tone dismissing me from this conversation. “ We’ll know who she is by the end of the day once we get the police results on her fingerprints. I think we’re done here...right?”
    Mr. Brown’s angular face still showed no emotion until he looked at his wife and his blue-gray eyes softened. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
    Mrs. Brown swung around with a look of pleading on her face. “We haven’t gotten the results of the blood test to review yet, Charles.”  She turned to Dr. Maxwell. “Would you check again?”
    I’d known what they were doing with fingerprinting at the first place, though the ink pad they’d pressed my fingers on had seemed like a messy way to transfer prints. But I’d been puzzled over the small white bandage on my arm from where they’d jabbed me with a sharp needle. They’d drawn blood.
    Everybody wanted my blood today. The beast I could almost understand, but what did these people want with it?
    Dr. Maxell flipped open the top of a thin metal case with an apple-shaped emblem on the lid and started tapping at it with his fingers. “The blood results just came through and–”  He leaned closer, reading something, then his forehead creased sharply before he turned to Mr. Brown. “Uh, we do need to review this report.”
    Mr. Brown’s eyes lit with interest.
    Mrs. Brown slid forward in her chair, anxious, but before she could say anything her husband shot a pointed look at me and said, “You may wait in the next room.”
    When I didn’t move, Dr. Maxwell stood and took a step toward me.
    Tired of getting dragged, shoved and jerked around by strangers, particularly the el...the adults, I jumped to my feet, arms loose, hands ready to defend myself.
    Mr. Brown unfolded his arms and reached over as if to restrain the doctor, but he spoke to me. “ Please go to the next room. Wait for us there.” 
    Mrs. Brown stood just as quickly, putting herself between me and the doctor, gently cupping my arm. If either of the men had touched me, I couldn’t say what would have happened, but her touch reached past the need to fight—to defend myself.
    She looked up at me, smiling reassurance, and indicated a door with her free hand. “There’s a waiting room right in there. We’ll send someone for you in a moment, okay?”
    I let out a breath that had backed up in my chest and nodded before turning for a second door that exited the room.  As I passed through and pulled the door almost closed behind me, Dr. Maxwell spoke in a low, excited voice, but too quiet for me to understand.
    I paused with the door ajar at my back and focused my full attention on his words. Heat bloomed in my chest, surprising me, then it radiated out through my body as I concentrated.
    The more I focused, the clearer the voices sounded.
    Dr. Maxwell was saying, “...I’m telling you there are markers in her blood like