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“Sean Ranger, your poor dear sister is standing here in the lounge waiting for you, you dolt.”
“You’ve turned out just like your useless older brother. Poor Mother and Father.” He sniffed airily. “They won’t be allowed another child now. They must feel like such failures. Tch.”
For Alex it was drawing and painting. For Meghan it was music. For Lani it was writing and storytelling, but Lani excelled in almost everything she put her mind to. And Samheed was practically born to act on the stage.
In the ruckus no one seemed to notice Will Blair and Samheed sneaking away to the tubes.
all she could think about was that the boy with the kind brown eyes that she’d met on the Quill bus, the boy that she’d pelted with spells trying to get his attention, the boy who rarely noticed her whenever Meghan was around—that boy had just kissed her, right on the cheek.
“I’d rather die fighting to keep us free to do as we wish, fighting to be free to come and go as we please, fighting so we no longer need to hide. Fighting the fear that all of you were programmed since birth to have. Fighting against Quill’s bigotry, which says brains and brawn are better, or more important, than creativity. And now, with luck, we may have a chance. A chance to prove ourselves.”
“Ourrr squad was specially designed to complement one anotherrr,” he began. “Rrrufus is agile. He can both climb and fly. His eyesight is trrremendous, as is his bite and skewerrr.” Simber indicated the squirrelicorn’s foot-long horn, which grew from between his little squirrel ears. “Pauline was a theaterrr focus, Peterrr’s a wrrriting instrrructorrr, Meghan is a musician, and Alex is a painterrr.” He paused, and said wryly, “And in case you didn’t notice, I’m an enorrrmous stone cheetah with wings.

