THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

made any sense. Nicholas enjoyed taunting this Gabby in a way that sounded harmless. I had my doubts. On the other hand, Gabby acted as if this was all just funny when I had the strangest sense that she kept her guard up the whole time.
    But what did I know? Nothing.
    Nicholas chuckled. “What brings you here, Gabby? You lose your crystal ball and get stuck having to navigate your way around humans?”
    Her laughter tinkled with a sly undertone. “Oh, to be a mere mortal.”  She pranced past Nicholas and out the last door that opened into a hallway.
    “She’s schizo,” Nicholas muttered. “Stay clear of that one.”
    “What do you mean by schizo?”
    “Crazy. Rumor is she hears voices.”  He spun a finger around his ear.
    I talk to ghosts. No way I was going to admit that, but I did catch the warning note about Gabby in what Nicholas said.
    Just then the door from Dr. Maxwell’s office opened again and another girl came into the room, as different from Gabby as the sun from the moon. This one wore her auburn hair straight and chin length, vibrant pink on her lips, and had a round face with such perfect features I peered close to see if she was real. Where Gabby had been a lightning display this girl was regal with her ice-blue eyes and russet-red dress that stopped at the middle of her thighs and a white jacket with the sleeves shoved up. 
    She held a fistful of papers and a thick, dull-green book against her chest, and cast a surprised glance at me. “I’m Hannah. You must be Rayen.”
    When I gave my usual nod, she said, “I’ve been asked to show you around the school and take you to class.”
    “Class?”
    Her eyes rolled with impatience before she said, “You’ve been assigned to Mr. Suarez’s computer science class in room 217.” 
    “Oh.”  A learning program. But with a person instructing?
    “Follow me.”  She issued that directive as though ordering people around came naturally to her.
    Nicholas spoke up and this time his voice had a smooth texture. “How’s it going, Hannah banana?”
    I studied Nicholas to figure out what had caused him to change from speaking in a somewhat superior way to one of light-hearted teasing.
    Hannah even sounded different when she addressed him in a soft tone. “Fi-ine. And you, Nick?”
    “Never better.” 
    There were undercurrents here, but it was one more thing I couldn’t figure out.
    I stood. Why am I being sent to a class? I just want to find out who I am. Where I came from. My family. The last being the most important.
    As I started to move, Nicholas whispered behind me, “Remember, sweetheart. Tell no one.”
    Lifting my hand to acknowledge I’d remembered his warning about my head injury, I murmured, “Thanks.”  And I was thankful that he’d cautioned me before I made the mistake of adding to my problems.
    The hospital sounded like a place to avoid no matter what.
    Nicholas raised his voice just above a whisper, but I knew he spoke to me. “Any time. You need anything, you let me know.”
    The only thing I needed was to fill the gaping hole in my memory and I doubted he could do that. I followed Hannah out into a hallway, but something Gabby had said nudged me to ask Hannah, “Do you know what snitch means?”
    She gave me a strange look as though I’d asked her how many noses I had on my face. When she realized I was serious, she huffed out a noisy breath, answering as if she recited a definition. “A snitch is someone who takes you into their confidence and acts like a close friend, then shares that information with an adversary or enemy, quite often in trade for something they want. Got it?”
    “Yeah.” Another name for a traitor. I had one more question. “What do you know about Nicholas?”
    Her smile tilted with a sly angle. “He’s at the top of his class in computer science. He’s very popular with all the girls. And...” She swept a long look at me. “And he’s off limits to you, but you should be polite to him.”
    “Why?” I ignored why he had limits and focused on her last words. “Are people mean to him?”
    “Are you serious? No. He’s their only child.”
    “Whose only child?”
    “The Browns. They adopted him.”
    My stomach dropped. I’d just spoken openly with Nicholas Brown , someone who could easily tell his parents that I was damaged goods.
    Mrs. Brown had been my only advocate so far, but what would happen when she found out I was not suitable for this place?
    I might not have wanted