Sharing a desk with Eleanor was less fun than Sam expected it to be. For one thing, it dramatically increased the number of malevolent glances Wilson Cartier sent his way.

He probably could have lived with that, though. What bothered him more was the almost constant murmur of conversation Eleanor kept up with the people all around them. She explained her hair, Sam’s baldness, and their new clothes. She talked about the new greenhouse work detail, sports events that would come up this next weekend, a net show she and her friends seemed to all be watching, and some art exhibition that was showing in the library this month.

The one thing they didn’t talk about was the class they were in. Sam had no idea how Mr. Tehled didn’t notice the noise—or do anything about it. Not that...

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