"Replica03 - Another Amy - Kaye, Marilyn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kaye Marilyn)

When she got to the principal's office, Amy paused outside the door. The secretary was busy stacking a pile of neon blue papers on her desk. Then Amy saw what she was looking for: a clipboard with the list of students in detention that day. The list wasn't too long, and it was facing her. Standing up on her toes, she leaned into the doorway without being seen and focused her eyes on the list. There it wasЧEric Morgan. He hadn't signed out yet.
Amy was about to leave when the secretary turned to the photocopier. She watched as the woman pressed the On button and more neon blue papers shot out. Amy knew colorful paper was used only for important memos and wondered what was up. A normal person wouldn't be able to read the pages that were pouring out of the machineЧthey were too far away, and coming out too fast. But Amy wasn't a normal person. She focused her eyes even more intently this time.

TO ALL TEACHERS: Please be advised that per-
sonnel from Electra Entertainment will be on the
school grounds over the next two weeks to film
scenes for the upcoming movie Middle School
Maniac. All efforts will be made to ensure that
classes are not disrupted. However, there may be
some inconveniences, and if this is the case, you
are advised to remember that Electra Entertain-
ment is making a substantial contribution to the
school renovation fund in appreciation for the use
of our facilities. You are also advised to refrain
from informing the students as to the nature and
purpose of our visitors, so as to avoid distracting
them from their studies.

Amy tried to imagine an explanation teachers could give for the presence of movie cameras and all the accompanying equipment without telling students what was really going on. She couldn't think of one.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
Amy whirled around. It was Eric. She hoped her face wasn't going pink. Unfortunately, her special talents did not extend to creative lying.
"Oh, I was just, you know, doing, um, something . . ."
Happily, Eric didn't really seem to care why she was there. "You going home now? Hang on, I have to sign out; then I'll walk with you."
Amy feigned nonchalance. "How was detention?" she asked him as they walked out, and then she immediately wanted to kick herself for asking such a stupid question. But Eric didn't seem to mind.
"The usual. You just sit there and read or stare into space. I'll bet you've never had detention."
She had to admit he was right.
"I've had detention three times so far this year," Eric said.
"Really?" Amy wasn't sure whether she should act shocked or impressed.
"It was only for being tardy," he added hastily. "Not for fighting or anything serious." He grinned. "I'll bet that's something you never have to worry about. Being tardy."
"Oh, I've been known to oversleep," Amy assured him.
"Yeah, but your legs are like speeding bullets. Bet you can get to school in about two minutes, right?"
Amy shrugged. She didn't have the slightest idea what her top running speed was; she'd never tested herself. And she didn't want to exaggerate her skills. "Not in two minutes. I can run pretty fast, but it's not like I've got real superpowers, like a comic-book hero. I can't fly, and I can't see through walls. Unless they're made of glass," she added, as a little joke. "I'm only human."
"Right. I guess you are."
Was he disappointed in her now? She tried to make up for it. "Of course, I can see farther than most people, and I can hear better. And I can read really fast. Like just now, when I was standing outside the principal's office." She told him what she'd seen coming out of the photocopy machine.
"No kidding? They're making a movie at Parkside? Are there going to be big movie stars hanging out?"
"I don't know, the note didn't say. I think they're trying to keep the whole thing secret."
"I won't tell anyone," he assured her.
As they walked, their hands kept accidentally banging into each other. Or maybe it wasn't by accident. In any case, it seemed perfectly natural to suddenly find themselves holding hands. Of course, they both pretended not to notice that this was happening.
"Have you ever thought about what you could do?" Eric asked.
"Huh?"
"With all your superior abilities, I mean. You can do things better than other people, like seeing and hearing and remembering stuff. And you're stronger and faster. You could be a major Olympic athlete. Or you could go on that quiz show where you have to remember what you saw in a square and match it with another square. You could make a fortune."
She just shrugged.
"Or you could be a poker champion," he continued.
"I don't know how to play poker."
"I could teach you sometime."
"Okay."
There was a moment of silence.
"You know Ronald Hurley?" Eric asked.
Amy was startled. The question had come out of nowhere. "Ronald Hurley," she repeated.
"He lives around the corner from us. Red hair, my age, shorter than me. He always wears purple high-tops."