Qualify by Vera Nazarian Read Free Book Online Page B

they gonna feed us, ever? Someone order a pizza!” Eddie cracks, drumming his fingers like crazy against the strap of his backpack. “Maybe starvation is part of Qualification.”
    I try to ignore Eddie and watch my sister.
    Gracie has a few girlfriends who are BFFs, but right this moment she does not bother to search the crowd for anyone. She just stands there dejectedly, even after I try to say something typical to make her crack a smile. Gordie the loner is happily oblivious as usual. And as for me, I momentarily give up on Gracie and look around the room to see if Ann Finnbar is anywhere, but don’t see her. And then I automatically do the other secret visual scan that I always do at school mass gatherings, for a glimpse of Logan Sangre.
    About five minutes later Principal Marksen gets up on stage. He’s wearing a headset mike, and he looks frustrated and tough at the same time. The stage smart wall behind him remains off, so apparently it’s all going to be live and we’re not getting a thrilling instructional video.
    “May I have your attention,” he says and his voice booms through the packed auditorium. “Please move as far as you can to the right and left walls, and clear the center. I repeat, clear the center. And please form rows.”
    As the Principal is speaking, I see security guards and teachers start herding us closer to the walls, until there is a long narrow path of about twenty feet across, stretching from the stage to the back of the large auditorium space. We are pressed closely so it’s standing room only, and those of us who are shorter have to stand up on tiptoe to see what’s in front. Good thing I’m reasonably tall, and so is Gracie, and so are my brothers.
    A few minutes later, gym mats are brought out, with the P. E. teachers and sports coaches directing. Several other teachers and administrators work together to unroll mats and place them in a long strip in the center of the cleared space, all the way from the beginning of the stage to the back of the auditorium.
    “Oh, !@#$%!, it’s gonna be a P. E. test,” a boy whispers behind me.
    “We better not have to do forward rolls to Qualify for Atlantis, cause then I’m toast . . .” a girl’s voice sounds.
    “Hey, check this out—” I can hear one of George’s friends speaking—“they can’t even fit everyone in this auditorium. There are people spilling over into the hallway, and it looks packed there too, from what I can tell. Man, must be at least five schools packed in here. . . .”
    “This is the final part of Qualification for today,” the Principal says. “It determines whether you will get on a bus and be taken to the Regional Qualification Center in the next few hours—or, if you get to go home. Your tests that you took earlier today are being scored and analyzed right now, even as I speak, and the results should be ready by the time we are done here. The total scores will be combined and tallied, and you will be informed immediately after this final portion of preliminary Qualification. For those of you who will be told to go home, I am very deeply sorry. There are no words adequate to express how much I wish all of you could Qualify uniformly. The unfortunate reality is, less than one tenth of you gathered in this room will Qualify. And now, I will let the Atlantis representative Ligerat Faroi explain to you this last portion for today.”
    The Principal remains standing on the stage, and now a slim tall man in dark form-fitting clothing and with bright hair that is a shocking metallic yellow joins him. He looks gaunt and it’s hard to tell how old he is because his features look somewhat peculiar. But it’s hard to place a finger on it, what exactly is it about him that makes him weird.
    And then it strikes me and Gracie at the same time. “The dude looks kind of Egyptian!” Gracie whispers loudly. “And I don’t mean like some guy from Cairo, but from King Tut’s tomb! He looks as if that bust of