Sanctuary Bay (10 page)

“It's probably because Ms. Winston is judging the next debate,” Eliza commented.

“Oh come on,” Bryce scoffed. “She's a total TILF.”

“No other reason necessary,” Logan agreed.

“Maya's never gone girl before,” Eliza said. “I think there's definitely another reason.”

“What does the debate have to do with anything?” Sarah asked Ethan.

He shrugged. “I don't follow the soap opera that is Sanctuary Bay.”

He really can be a superior snot,
Sarah thought.
I bet he's as curious as everyone else, but doesn't want to admit it.

Eliza answered for him. “Ms. Winston is judging the debate on Friday, and Maya's going up against Derick Kuok, and he's never lost.”

“You think Maya would screw somebody just to win?” Maya was a rule-following, good-girl type. And boffing a teacher was not exactly rule-following, good-girl behavior.

“Maya's killer competitive,” Logan said. “And the debate coach is worse than Coach Edwards.” Worse than the Lobsters' coach? That was saying something.

“Oooh, or maybe it's a secret society thing,” Eliza went on, eyes wide. “They must have crazy pranks. The Skull and Bones society at Yale makes its members do insane stuff before they graduate and become presidents and moguls and whatnot.”

Logan snorted. “That whole thing is a myth.”

“No, it's not. I heard it's called something like the Wolf Den. Only a few people get invited to join each year.”

“Anyone else need more proof than a rumor?” Logan asked, glancing around. “You believe in the POW ghost too, Eliza?”

Eliza shot a speculative glance at Ethan. “What do
you
think?” she asked him.

Sarah turned to watch him along with everyone else. If there was some elite club that guaranteed postgrad wealth and power, she wanted in, and Ethan would know about it.

“I think Maya's just getting her rocks off,” Ethan replied.

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Maybe. If there
was
a secret society here, I should be in it. So it probably doesn't exist.”

The blue light flashed to signal the start of class. Dr. Diaz and the last few kids came in a few moments later. “I have your tests graded,” Dr. Diaz said, dropping his battered leather satchel on his desk. He pulled out a stack of papers. “Nice work, all of you. Although it looks like I need to spend a little more time going over SN2 reactions,” he added as he began passing out the tests.

“Come on, Diaz. You're not actually going to pretend that we haven't all just seen that sex tape,” Bryce said.

“That won't be covered on the next exam,” Dr. Diaz replied. He put Sarah's test on the table in front of her, facedown. She flipped it over. Perfect score. Pride swelled inside her. Her memory gave her a massive advantage, but it wasn't as if she had the answer to all the possible stereoisomers of a specific molecule stored in her brain. That came from understanding the concepts, not memorization.

Her happiness drained out of her when she saw the note Dr. Diaz had scribbled at the top of the page: “Sarah, please see me after class.” She knew what that meant. She'd dealt with it before. He thought the charity case couldn't possibly have gotten a hundred without cheating. She'd thought he was different. So in love with the subject, so eager to pass his enthusiasm on to them, to make them believe they had it in them to be original thinkers with the capacity to make a scientific leap that could change everything. But he was just like her old teachers. He didn't think someone like her could be anything but average—if she was lucky.

But she'd aced that test. Even if he decided to give her a big, fat zero for cheating, she knew that she'd gotten the A because she'd deserved it.

It seemed like hours before the pink light flashed, indicating the end of class. “You coming?” Ethan asked.

“I'll see you over there. I need to ask Dr. Diaz a question.”

“Just make sure to keep your pants on,” Ethan teased, letting his eyes run down her body in such an intimate way he might as well have been peeling her clothes off. To her annoyance, Sarah felt her skin flush in response. She couldn't think of a good comeback before he grabbed his backpack and headed for the door.

At least she knew what she wanted to say to Dr. Diaz. “I didn't cheat,” she announced as soon as everyone else had gone. “Not that anything I say will convince you. You've made up your mind.” He looked startled.

“Back up. Who said anything about cheating?” he asked.

“That's what you want to see me about, right?” Sarah picked up her test and pointed to his note. “I'm sure you've read my file, and there's plenty in there about what a huge cheater I am. You know foster kids can't actually achieve anything. We're all damaged losers, right? Attitude problems, drug use, learning disabilities, we've got them all.”

“Back up,” Dr. Diaz said again. He walked over and sat down in Ethan's chair. “Where are you getting this? All my note said is that I wanted to talk to you.”

“About how I could have possibly gotten a perfect score.”

“Sarah, for someone with such an aptitude for science, you're awfully good at jumping to conclusions. Your test did make me want to talk to you, yes, because I'm curious about what plans you have after graduation. If you're interested in majoring in chemistry or considering med school in the future, we ought to discuss the classes you should take in your senior year. If there's anything you feel shaky on that's a prerequisite, I could help you get up to speed. I know you switched schools several times, and even for an excellent student that can leave gaps.”

Sarah let out a long sigh that felt like it came from deep in her belly. She opened her mouth to answer, but didn't know what to say. Guess I'm not done leaving all my crap behind, she thought ruefully. “Sorry.”

“Can you tell me what all that was about?” he asked gently.

“It's just … It's happened before. When I've done really well on a test,” she said. “Some teachers assumed I cheated. Even though I would read chem books for fun. The first time I was sitting next to a kid who got a hundred too. A kid who everyone knew was really smart with a nice PTA mom. The teacher was sure I copied. Then it got in the file.”

“And the file followed you everywhere. I won't lie, I saw it,” Dr. Diaz said. “But what I got from your records was that you were strong and determined, as well as exceptionally bright. You had so many strikes against you, changing homes, changing schools, but it didn't stop you from achieving.”

Sarah hesitated. Should she tell him about her memory? “Thanks,” she said. “But I … I didn't have trouble with schoolwork even though I changed schools so much. I have a kind of strange brain. I can remember basically everything, all the textbooks, and that helps.”

Dr. Diaz narrowed his eyes, studying her. “When you say you remember
everything…”

“Everything I've read, everything that's happened to me. Even stuff from when I was really little,” Sarah explained. “I told the teachers that all along, but they said it had to be my imagination, that I can't possibly have memories from when I was two or three. I do, though. Vivid ones. I remember the tag on this stuffed animal I had, even though I lost it at the playground when I was in preschool. It said, ‘Under penalty of law, this tag not to be removed except by consumer. All new material consisting of polyester fib—'”

“One second.” Dr. Diaz got up and rooted around in his backpack.

“I guess I could have memorized that off some toy last month. It doesn't prove anything. But I remember it from when I was a kid. Before I'd even heard the word ‘polyester.' Before I knew how to write. I remembered the shapes of the letters, and later, when I knew how to read, I understood what it had said.”

Dr. Diaz sat back down and handed her a paperback called
The River Why
. “Ever read this?”

“Never even heard of it,” Sarah answered.

“Great book. Covers all the big stuff—philosophy and fishing.” He opened it to a page in the middle and handed it to her. “Read a page for me.”

“You mean out loud?”

“No, just to yourself. I want to try a little experiment. If you don't mind,” he added quickly.

“You don't believe me.”

Dr. Diaz sighed. “I'm not doing too well with you, am I? I believe you. I believe everything you've told me. I think you might have something called hyperthymesia, perhaps combined with an eidetic memory.”

“Eidetic is a photographic memory. I've definitely got that. But what's hyperthymesia?” Sarah asked. She remembered every word she'd ever seen, but she'd never seen that one.

“It's where a person can recall every day of their life in extreme detail,” Dr. Diaz explained. “The temporal and the parietal lobes are significantly larger in people with HSAM, hyperthymesia, than those in the average person. They're the parts of the brain linked to autobiographical memory.”

“Sounds like me,” Sarah said.

“I've never met someone with a brain like yours. Honestly, I'm curious to see it in action, that's all. It's the scientist in me, or the doctor, I guess. You know I'm also the school doctor, right?”

“Yeah.” Sarah had read the bios of all her teachers on the school intranet and so knew them by heart.

“I didn't mean to sound like I was doubting you. It's not that.”

“It's okay.” She'd never had a teacher apologize to her before.

“I've read that having an exceptional memory can sometimes be a burden. That people can get a little lost in their memories,” Dr. Diaz commented.

“Tell me about it,” Sarah said with a laugh. Now that she knew he didn't think she was crazy, the words rushed out. “It can be intense. Sometimes it's like I'm reliving the memories, with full-on smells and tastes and sensations. They almost overpower me. In my file it says people thought I was on drugs or having seizures, but that's why. I have some … not good memories, and when they come back, sometimes I react like they're actually happening again. Anyway…” She turned her attention to the book, read a page, then handed it to him, and began to recite.

“Word perfect,” he said. “So was it like you were seeing the words again?”

She nodded.

“Fascinating.” He smiled. “I hope you don't feel like a lab rat.”

“As long as my eyes haven't turned pink, I'm okay,” she said. “Actually, it's good to talk about it this way, like it's science, instead of like I'm a freak.”

“I'll tell you something I've figured out as a high school teacher and as a former teenager. Everyone feels like a freak sometimes, especially at your age,” Dr. Diaz said. “It gets better, but it never completely goes away. I speak from experience.”

Sarah tried to keep the skepticism off her face. Ethan was too arrogant to think of himself as a freak. Izzy was too. And Karina? How could someone so beautiful, somebody everyone in school loved, feel freaky? Or someone as popular as Nate, even with his screwed-up, pre-Sanctuary Bay life?

Dr. Diaz grinned. “Some people have a better façade than others, but get to know someone, really know them, and you'll see.” He stood up. “Go eat lunch. I've kept you too long. We'll talk about your college plans another time, anytime you want. I'm around. As you know, we're on an island.”

“Okay. Sounds good.” Sarah grabbed her stuff and started toward the door.

“And Sarah,” Dr. Diaz called after her. She looked over her shoulder. “We can talk about other stuff too. Like if your memories start feeling overwhelming. Or if you just need help navigating Sanctuary Bay.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she meant it.

*   *   *

Sarah glanced at the Board in the hall outside her last class. There were more kids around it than usual, snickering at the latest messages about Maya and Ms. Winston. It was all anyone had been talking about.

Don't they get that these people are real?
she wondered. She kept thinking about Nate. She hadn't seen him since the text bomb. They didn't have any classes together, and he was a no-show at lunch.

She couldn't resist pulling her cell from her pocket when she reached the main staircase. As she climbed, she opened the map. There was a function that could show the location of anyone at the school. She hesitated. It felt like an invasion of privacy. But everyone else seemed to use it all the time.

When she reached the first landing, she lowered her voice and said, “Locate Nate.”

“Basement stairwell main building,” the cell replied.

Sarah glanced down at the screen. There was a purple dot, her, and then a yellow dot, showing Nate's location near the main entrance.

Then he vanished.

Sarah blinked in surprise. “Locate Nate,” she said again.

The cell was silent for a long moment, her own purple dot pulsing alone on the screen. Finally it spoke. “Student offline.”

 

5

Sarah shoved herself out of bed. She'd tried mind-over-bladder to convince herself she didn't have to pee so she could stay snuggled under her comforter, but it hadn't worked.
Something's off,
she thought, frowning as she started for the door.

She was alone. Karina's bed was empty. So was Izzy's. Did they sneak off together again? Were they back to being friends? She grabbed her cell off the night table and checked the time. Almost one. She hesitated, then said, “Locate Karina.”

A yellow dot appeared on the screen, moving across the back lawn toward the dining hall. At least it had come up. Nate's had never returned after it vanished from the screen earlier. “Locate Izzy,” she said. A second dot appeared next to the first. What were they doing out there in the middle of the night?