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Butler was one of the operatives we had met over a month ago. He always had a friendly rivalry with Troy when it came to sparring. He was also a single father, with his eight-year-old and twelve-year-old on the base with him. It was amazing how much personal things I started to learn about the other operatives here once I was forced to slow down.
We were also realistic in the fact that there could come a time that we would have to leave the base for an indefinite period of time. If we got any leads about my seventh connection, we would have to go. We wanted to have a hand in the new programs but needed to ensure it would continue running in our absence.
The other program we had during martial arts was a dance class for those that weren’t martial arts enthusiasts. Noah oversaw that program with Curry, a friend of Adams—the girl I despised here. They utilized a new space created in one of the lower levels that they were trying to convert as the new educational center.
With the absence of school this week, the teens were going to their next mandatory activities; music, agriculture, art, or cooking. They had a choice of which one they had a greater proclivity towards. Will, Jace, and Natalie—another operative—were the instructors for music. Jaxson was assisting the Illinois team’s brother-sister duo, Texas and Georgia, in the agriculture class, where they were going to learn how to grow crops, among other things. Megan and one of the other members of the Illinois team were teaching art. Drake had volunteered to teach cooking with a few of the other cooks in the kitchen.
I entered the kitchen to see that, just as suspected, most of the teens were busy goofing off or showing complete disrespect to Drake and his assistants. That was the reason why I elected to come here instead of the new music room Jace and Will were teaching in. I knew no one would dare show them the same insolence they were showing Drake and his cooks. I figured he may need a little extra help. That, and I was lucky if my stick figures were discernable, and I wasn’t keen on learning how to grow things just yet.
I took a seat on one of the prep tables and quietly watched the troublemakers for a few moments. When I’d had enough, I stood up and looked at them pointedly and then walked over to them.
“If you continue to behave this way, I won’t hesitate to get your parents,” I told them quietly, so as not to interrupt Drake.
Drake had jumped into teaching with both feet, and that’s why it bothered me that these teens were blatantly insolent. He had worked on lesson plans and recipes he planned to do with the kids to include baking and basic savory dishes. He was the only one that put any effort to keep this ‘class’ interesting for them. Since Jace was once a teacher, he didn’t need to come up with any new lesson plans. He had his old ones to utilize.
One of the teens looked at me with a challenge in his eyes, then smirked. “Ask us if we care.”
I knew it was hard to take me seriously on appearances alone. I was petite, and most of the teens were taller than me. Without makeup, I looked like I could fit in with them comfortably.
“You do realize who she is, right?” Victoria, a senator’s daughter and one of our newly gifted tweens, asked as she came up to us.
When Victoria first came to us, she had been a rollercoaster of emotions. She had been sullen and angry one moment and then friendly and funny the next. Her mother had died in a car accident, and she had blamed herself. Then her father had moved her here, just in case mandatory gifted registration commenced. The bill was still in the Senate, waiting for the votes to pass or throw it out.
Lately, she had adjusted to her new environment and hung out often with Micah and Patrick. I think both boys had a crush on her, but it was clear by her actions and words that they were definitely in the friend zone.
One of the teens made a loud scoffing noise, drawing my attention back to them.
I knew these teens were in the classroom with the seventh and eighth graders. Therefore, they really had no clue who I was, unless their parents talked abo
ut me. They wouldn’t know me by looks. At least I didn’t think they would. I knew that me and my connections were now a hot topic of discussion here. With our gifts, it was a given. Only our close friends and family knew our new predicament. We hadn’t even told the Illinois team; we didn’t feel like it was something they needed to know yet.
“This is Blake Thomas, and that’s her connection Drake.” Victoria gave them a pointed look.
They gave us a surprised look before immediately joining the rest of the class near the prep tables. I gave Victoria a grateful smile before I headed to where the younger children were waiting patiently for their ingredients. It was no surprise to me that only Kade was in this class. The others barely showed any interest in cooking.
Micah had started his music lessons, which surprised me since he hadn’t shown any interest in it before. Ella had also elected to attend music class. Alex—no surprise—was on the lower level in the greenhouses with Jaxson. If and when those interests changed, the children could change their electives next semester.
Drake came to our table and gave us the ingredients to the cake they were baking today. The laminated recipe was taped onto the prep table along with a stand mixer. It was a basic recipe for a chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream icing.
“Is this a cup?” A little girl of around six held up the half-a-cup measuring cup.
I shook my head with a smile. “No, it’s the larger one,” I said loudly enough that the other four at the table could hear. I held up the measuring cup and pointed at the handle. “See? It says one on the handle.”
“Can we eat this when we’re done?” another younger boy asked hopefully.
I smiled. “That’s the plan. We’re going to let you taste a small sample of it after it’s complete, but the rest of it will be served for dessert tonight,” I explained.
They quietly cheered. I wasn’t going to add that Drake and his staff were also going to verify if the cakes were even edible before serving them. We expected a few of them may not be, especially if this was their first time in a kitchen.
I carefully watched them sift their flour, and as predicted, most of it landed on top of the prep table as opposed to in the bowl.
“How was the martial arts class?” Drake asked quietly as he made his way over to me.
I knew that was his way of finding out how I was feeling today. Yesterday had been a bad day, and I spent most of it sleeping and studying for a few classes. He was my sensitive connection, with his light brown hair, swimmer’s body, and glasses that hid expressive, stunning, blue eyes.
It had been a week since I started to lose my gift, and my body began betraying me. In those seven days, I had spent three of them in that condition. Not counting the two days I was in a near comatose state. On the days I was unable to do anything, it was Drake that made sure I had all my meals brought to me.
“Great,” I answered him truthfully. “I stayed after a little while to get in some of my own training.”
