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favored other divisions of the Toxic Agency after graduating from the McDonough School for the Talented.  I had always wondered why, and now I knew.  Most girls were too smart to subject themselves to shared living quarters with teenage boys.
    When the water finally ran cold, and I had succeeded in removing all the paint, and likely the top layer of my skin, I turned the silvery knobs to their respective off positions and carefully climbed out of the shower.  I toweled myself dry and selected a set of standard issue workout clothes, stretchy black pants and a stretchy black tank top, from my designated bathroom drawers.
    I used the towel to clear the layer of steam from the small oval mirror over the sink.  I closely examined my reflection, searching for traces of the previous night.  Mercifully, my boring reflection was the only thing staring back at me.  My damp curls looked black instead of brown from the water.  My pupils were dilated, so that only a rim of purple was visible between the black center and the white sclera.  My normally olive-toned skin was bright red, from the heat of the shower water and my vigorous scrubbing.  I tapped my index finger on the pointy, slightly upturned end of my nose, as if that would help to flatten it down a little.  I rubbed at the smattering of tiny brown dots that covered the bridge of my nose and my cheekbones; they didn’t go anywhere, assuring me they were all my own freckles and not lingering dirt.   Finally, when I couldn’t find any additional ways to prolong my bathroom time, I wrapped the towel around my hair and opened the door into the main room of the cabin.
    “Took you long enough,” Erik exclaimed impatiently.  “You do realize that we all have to shower, right?”
    “I thought you took your weekly shower three days ago,” I shot back.
    “I did, but I have a hot lunch date with one of the Brains so I don’t want to smell.”  Brain was a kind of slang term for a Higher-Reasoning Talent because their minds analyzed data faster than any computer.  Erik wiggled his eyebrows at me, his trademark move, and then lifted his arm and sniffed.
    “Charming,” I rolled my eyes.
    “Do I smell, Tals?  Maybe I don’t need to shower after all,” he asked, walking toward me and putting his armpit in my face.
    “Eww, Erik!  Honestly, if the girls that line up to go out with you had to spend as much time with you as I do, they would definitely reconsider.”
    “No way.   Every girl here considers you the luckiest girl alive.”  I looked over at Henri and gave him an “is-he-serious?” look.  He just shook his head.  Erik and Henri had been friends and teammates, for two years I guess he was used to Erik’s bravado.
    Erik finally went into the bathroom to take a shower himself, and I sat down on my unmade bed.  I counted to ten, and then, as if on cue, Erik screamed my name followed by a long list of expletives; he’d discovered that I’d taken all the hot water.  I smiled in satisfaction.

 
    Chapter Four
     
    In the decades following the Great Contamination it became clear to the powers-that-be that the Talented were a new breed of child that posed many potential threats.  At global summits, the question of how to deal with these children was the most hotly debated topic.  Fear of the unknown drove many nations to demand that the children be locked up “for their own safety;” imprisoning Talents was actually for the peace of mind of scared politicians.   Some extremist nations even argued that the eradication of any persons exhibiting paranormal abilities was the only answer to the ever-growing problem.  In the end, no satisfactory global solution was reached; instead each country was left to handle the situation in a manner that best served their individual interests.
    Margaret Anne McDonough was the seventy-fifth president of the United States of America and also grandmother to tow-headed, five-year old Daniel McDonough – an