A/N: I own every character that appears in this fic.
David Livingstone Memorial High, Ohio
Emmeline Jefferson wasn't particularly a fan of school. In fact, she hated every second of it. The only reason she went was because she was made to go. However, that didn't make up for the fact the classes were insufferably boring, and she was bullied severely.
"Emmeline, sit up and pay attention!" said her biology teacher, Miss Davis, snapping her out of her reverie. Emmeline (or Emma as she was called) sat up and looked at the board Miss Davis was writing on. Emmeline was considerably better looking than the teacher- Miss Davis wore high heels, a black skirt and a white shirt, and she had wrinkles, glasses, and short brown hair. Emmeline, on the other hand, was young with blonde hair in pigtails, blue eyes, and she wore long black trousers and a black hoodie.
"Well, Miss Jefferson? Perhaps you'd like to answer the question? What is non-coding DNA?"
Emmeline rubbed her temples, she'd been having a headache since the moment she got out of bed that morning. She didn't know the answer to the question, but she decided she might as well give it a go.
"Umm….is it…DNA that doesn't code for a protein?" she guessed. Miss Davis raised her eyebrows.
"Well done, Miss Jefferson. I didn't think you were listening."
"Smartass."
"You can talk." replied Emmeline, getting angry.
"What?" replied Miss Davis.
"You called me a smartass."
"No, I didn't."
"How did she know that? Can she read minds? She must REALLY be a smartass."
"There, you did it again!" exclaimed Emmeline, standing up and pointing at Miss Davis.
"Ah, sit down and shut up, Emmeline!" said Andrew Kerrigan, one of Emmeline's tormentors.
Emmeline did so, and the rest of the lesson continued without a problem, but she was looking very wary.
The lunch bell rang, and she sat down at a table, alone as usual. However, the incident in the classroom was clearly still bothering her. First she had plucked a right answer out of thin air (and that couldn't have been luck, as she was terrible at biology) and then she had began to hear what were probably her teacher's thoughts. Also, her headache seemed to be ebbing away.
"Hey! Jefferson!" said a familiar voice.
"Oh no…" moaned Emma into her spaghetti loops. It was Andrew and his cronies.
"That lunch looks pretty lame, Jefferson. I'm sure it'd look better on you!" said Andrew, pushing her face into her hoops. She attempted to resist, but he was too strong for her and she ended up with hoops all over her face. They then began tearing up her sandwiches, and then finished up by pouring her milk all over her. By now, Emma was shaking with rage.
"Aw, is wimpy Jefferson gonna cry?"
"Leave…me…ALONE!" cried Emma, and at that last word her ebbing headache pulsed particularly nastily, and Andrew and his cronies were sent flying back onto the floor some feet away.
Just then, the principal, Mr Christie, entered the lunch hall, and saw Emmeline covered in her own lunch and Andrew and his cronies lying on the floor, staring at Emmeline in disbelief.
"What's going on here?"
Andrew pointed at Emma. "It was her, sir. She attacked us."
Mr Christie looked at Emma. "Is this true, Miss Jefferson?"
Wanting nothing more to get out of here as soon as possible, she nodded.
"Come with me, Miss Jefferson."
They both entered Mr Christie's room, and Emma sat down in the chair in front of Mr Christie's desk.
"Tell me what happened, Miss Jefferson."
"I-I don't really know, sir. They were annoying me and I got angry, I told them to leave me alone and then I felt my head sort of, um….pulse….maybe I pushed them…and then they were lying on the floor. Also, weird stuff has been happening to me all day. I got a question right in biology by guessing, and…I think…I think I heard Miss Davis' thoughts."
Emma thought she saw a flicker of triumph flash in the principal's eyes, but she thought it must have been the light.
"I'm going to phone your mother about this incident, Miss Jefferson."
"Yes, sir." replied Emma.
Five minutes later, Emma's mother, Leanne, had arrived at the school looking anxious and worried, dressed in her favourite black-and-white skirt with a pink cardigan that had a blue t-shirt underneath, black high heels, long blonde hair and brown eyes.
"What is it, sweetie?" she asked. "And why are you covered in bits of food?"
"I can explain everything, Mrs. Jefferson." said Mr Christie, and Leanne turned to him.
"Your daughter was being bullied and out of anger she acted in self-defence. It is not her fault, and rest assured, the culprits will be punished."
"I should think so." replied Leanne. "Sweetie, why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?"
"I didn't want you to make a fuss." mumbled Emma
"I think you should go home, get changed, and relax, Miss Jefferson."
Leanne and Emma nodded, leaving the school.
When he was sure they had left, Mr Christie picked up his phone and dialled a number.
"Yeah, it's me. Listen, you were right. It's started."
When they got home, Emma got changed into a simple grey jumper and blue jeans, then asked her mum to sit down on the cream sofa, and she would explain everything.
"Weird stuff's been happening to me all day, mom…"
"Like what, Emmeline?"
"Like, the fact I got a supposedly-hard question in biology right by guessing, and that I could hear Miss Davis' thoughts, and that I stopped Andrew and his goons with my mind…."
"Are you sure you're not just imagining it, sweetie?"
"No, mom. I have an idea. I want you to think of something, and I'll tell you what it is."
"Okay…" replied Leanne, uncertain.
Emma concentrated.
"You're thinking about cooking roast chicken for dinner tonight."
Leanne narrowed her eyes. "Lucky fluke. Try again."
Emma concentrated again.
"You're thinking about getting a cat."
"Ok, that's just scary. What's happening to you, sweetie?" asked Leanne.
"I wish I knew, mom. I really do."
At that point, the phone rang. Leanne picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is that Emmeline Jefferson's mother?"
"Yes, who is this?" asked Leanne.
"Let's just say I'm a very good friend, Mrs Jefferson. I know what's happening to your daughter."
"You do? Then what is it? And how did you know something was happening to her?"
"Just write down this address, and go to it at five o' clock on Saturday, ok?"
"Okay…."
A/N: Good? Not good? Tell me what you think! If it's good, I'll continue it. I have ideas for other 'gifteds', anyway.