They got in the long, fast-moving line, boarded the packed, elevated train and headed downtown. They stood, each holding on to a separate hand-strap that hung from the ceiling, but sharing the same silver pole that extended the train from top to bottom. They stood face-to-face in a stare down, and before Naz would lose, as usual, he noticed the two marks on the bridge of her nose.

“What happened to your glasses?” he asked again.

“I’m not sure.” She put her head down. “They were sliding down my nose, and I was about to push them up. I think they flew off when my dad pulled me away from you.”

Naz recoiled from the thought of what had just happened. He gripped the pole tighter. She covered his hand with her own.

“Maybe they fell off when my hero whisked me away … thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Does that happen a lot?”

“What, my glasses falling off or my hero whisking me away?” She put her hand on her hip.

“Neither. Your dad?”

She squinted, looking out the window as the train passed through a tunnel. Naz had apparently struck a nerve—oops! We’re both damaged goods, I guess. He started humming, took her hand off her waist, and started swinging it. A few minutes of silence passed.

“Why downtown?” asked Naz.

“Why not downtown … It’s crowded; we’re least likely to get in trouble for being truant.”

“Yeah but nothin’s going on downtown.”

“Sure it is. We can go to the festival.” She perked up.

“Doesn’t start ’til tomorrow.”

“All the better. That means everyone’s setting up, and there’s no crowds or cops, just you …” She let go of her strap and touched his chest with her finger, “and me.” She pointed back to herself.

He liked the sound of that, and his mouth formed a smile against his will. The Helix jerked, and she fell into him. He instinctively grabbed her. Naz had never felt D that close before, in his arms, all of her weight. He righted her immediately and looked out of the window as a distraction. “Ahem.”

“My knight in shining armor,” she said.

He could feel her eyes ranging over him. “What?” He finally returned her gaze.

“Is my boyfriend embarrassed?”

An older lady sat expressionless next to where they stood, observing the young couple.

Still smiling, D looked at the woman. “My boyfriend’s embarrassed.”

“Stop,” said Naz.

“Someone’s in love,” said the woman.

They both pointed to each other and laughed.

“I don’t need my eyes to see that,” said the woman.

It had never occurred to Naz the woman was blind even though her focus, or lack of, never changed. He and D exchanged sheepish grins. They rode without talking for a bit until the train slowed. Naz didn’t notice the man sitting next to the lady until the train stopped. He helped the woman up, and the two exited the train.

Naz and D sat near the door where the blind woman and her escort had been sitting. She immediately grabbed his hand as he stared out the window at nothing in particular. He let out a deep sigh. He had never skipped school before, could never even remember missing a day of school for any reason, other than his five-day suspension for bullying Dill and Denali last year at Lincoln Middle. He had never had a reason to miss school—until now. He smiled.

“Telekinesis.” She squeezed his hand.

He looked at her.

“That’s what you’re talking about … telekinesis, right?”

“Something like that, but it’s actually called M-cubed for mental molecular manipulation, but telekinesis is good enough.”

“But it doesn’t exist … right?”

“You just saw what I did with the quarter.”

She turned in her seat to face him and grabbed both his hands. “But that was a trick … right?”

“Noooo …”

“I don’t get it.” She let go of his hand and faced away from him, pouting.

“You get it; you just can’t handle it.”

“Show me again.” She turned to face him again, her eyes wide.

“What, here, in front of all these people?”

“Half the people are gone.”

No one was standing, but most of the seats on the train were still full.

“You see the hand-straps?” Naz looked straight ahead and then nodded toward the row of hand-straps that hung from the ceiling.

D looked up. Five of the straps upended and touched the ceiling as if gravity reversed itself. No one noticed until a little boy said:

“Look, Mommy.”

Naz smiled. Then, he made the straps twirl and bounce together as if they were dancing in sync. Other passengers pointed and murmured. One lady let out a shrill scream while a man holding a Bible made the shape of the cross in front of his heart.

“Stop,” whispered D.

The straps fell back to their original position.

“Satisfied?” said Naz, still looking straight ahead.

As the Helix approached its next stop, many of the passengers lined up to get off the train. Naz suspected some got off earlier than their intended stop, mainly due to the dancing hand straps, but he hadn’t paid close attention to any of the passengers in particular. The train stopped, and the murmuring passengers exited in a hurry. The last passenger in line, a man, hesitated.

“Naz Andersen.” The man stood over them dressed in business attire. The top buttons of his shirt and his tie were loose as if to give himself some breathing-room in the stuffy, crowded train. He switched from his right hand to his left, the briefcase and suit coat draped over it and then extended his right hand to Naz.

“It’s been a while, young man.”

Naz reached out and partook in a flimsy handshake.

“How are things at Union. Too bad about International Academy. Their loss, aye!”

“Ahem … yes, sir.”

“How’s Coach Fears, Mr. Tesla, and that pretty Dr. Hornbuckle?”

“Fine, sir.”

The train made a short tone, signaling the doors were about to close.

The man released Naz’s hand and adjusted the brim on his black fedora. He looked back at the hand-straps and then to Naz again. “I see you’re coming along nicely.” He smiled and exited the train.

The man disappeared down the platform as the train took off again.

“Hey,” D called.

“Huh?” Naz answered, surprised.

D had apparently called him several times. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

He shook his head.

“Wasn’t that Principal Pauling, from Lincoln?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“He must be skipping, too.” She laughed.

Naz laughed, but his mind was on Pauling—here we go again.

They got off at the next stop, putting them only blocks from central downtown, where every weekend after the winter months, weather permitting, there were festivals of every kind. Today there were trucks everywhere, setting up for the next day’s weekend festival kickoff. As Naz and D crossed the street, a patrol car pulled in front of them.

“I thought you said—”

“Shhh … let me handle this,” said D.

“Aren’t you two kids supposed to be in school?” asked one of the police officers.

“We’re out on an independent study field trip,” said D as she squinted into the patrol car.

“A what?” The officer fiddled with something on the dashboard, obviously half-interested.

“An independent study field trip.”

The man leaned over to his partner and said something Naz couldn’t hear. He had a feeling D’s course of action wasn’t working. He focused on the officers in the car and summoned their thoughts—I’m not looking forward to this weekend, thought one of the officers. Are you serious? This is the easiest beat in town, thought the other officer. Naz was getting nothing from this, so he decided to try something new, something he had been wondering for a while now about the mind. Could he control the thoughts of another?

The officer turned back to Naz and D.

Naz waved his hand and said, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

“What?” asked the officer.

“You don’t need to see her identification.” Naz focused and waved his hands again.

As if he just caught on, the officer burst into laughter and said to his partner, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

The other officer shook his head then buried it in his palm.

“They can go about their business,” the officer barely managed to say and then, “Move along,” he finished through his laughter as the squad car sped away.