The Intuitives(30)
He rolled out of bed, grabbed a pair of jeans and a random T-shirt out of his duffel, and headed straight for his guitar.
He sat on the edge of the bed, fine-tuning the strings and then strumming a few chords just to test the sound. Perfect. He didn’t turn on the amp because he didn’t want to wake anyone; he just started to play. He didn’t have any particular tune in mind when he started, but his fingers, as usual, had a mind of their own, and they started playing “Flower,” by Cody Simpson. The words flowed through his mind, but he was too embarrassed to sing, knowing that he shared the suite with Rush and Roman, so he just played through the song and hummed a little.
But when he finished, the tune still echoed in his mind. Hesitating for a moment, he finally plugged the guitar into the amp and turned it to the lowest setting, testing the volume in the stillness of the morning. He turned it up just a little bit louder, so he could sing along quietly and the guitar would still drown out his voice on the off chance that anyone heard him. He played the entire song again, and before the last note had entirely dissipated, his fingers started in on “Gone, Gone, Gone” by Phillip Phillips.
He sang through that one also, turning the amp up just a bit more and then launching into Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl.” The grin on his face just kept getting bigger, and after the final notes had echoed away, he was in such a good mood that he turned the amp up again and started singing “(I Can’t) Forget About You” by R5, just for fun.
At this point there was a rather insistent pounding on the door, followed immediately by Rush’s head poking through it.
“Dude. We get it. You like her. Could you please, by all that’s holy, play something that is not a love song. Seriously. Anything. Sketch and I are dying in here.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes at Rush without saying a word, flashed him his most villainous smile, and then turned the amp up even louder and plucked out the opening bars of “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees with unmitigated zeal, popping his chin and rolling his shoulders to the beat with exaggerated flair.
“This better?” he asked innocently.
“It’s time for breakfast,” Rush growled. He withdrew his head from the room and stalked out of the suite, followed by a chorus of Roman’s uncontrolled giggles.
? ? ?
When the boys arrived downstairs, the girls were already seated around one of the small, round tables, eating breakfast. Miss Williams sat at another table next to them, accompanied by a man they had not seen before. He appeared to be in his forties—a handsome man of just less than average height, with short, dark hair, a swarthy complexion, a proud patrician nose, and a close-cropped beard. He smiled at her gently, almost shyly, as they spoke in muted tones.
A buffet had been set up in the back of the room, complete with large silver tureens of eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, potatoes, fruit, and pancakes, with butter and several different choices of syrup for toppings. Silver jugs of milk, juice, and water stood next to an array of plates and glasses and silverware—a help-yourself dream that Roman wasn’t sure he was ever going to get used to.
Daniel kept sneaking wistful glances toward the one empty seat at the girls’ table, but in the end he joined Rush and Roman, pushing his food around with his fork without ever raising the utensil to his mouth. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Miss Williams provided a distraction.
“Good morning, everyone!” she said, placing her elegant, cloth napkin on the table and rising to her feet. “I hope you all slept well. I’d like to welcome you formally to the ICIC. We hope you’ll be as happy here as we are to have you with us. If there is anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable—”
“How do we get on the Internet?” Rush asked immediately.
Miss Williams barely hesitated.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “The lodge is upgrading its service, and the network is not available yet. We had expected the process to be complete before you arrived. The system should be back up in the next day or two.”
Mackenzie frowned.
“You OK?” Kaitlyn mouthed the question silently, having noticed her reaction, but Mackenzie only nodded. If she missed one of her father’s weekly calls, it wouldn’t be the first time. The news had just taken her by surprise. She shook it off and smiled reassuringly at Kaitlyn.
“There isn’t any cell service either,” Rush added.
“We will make a land line available so you can call home, of course,” Miss Williams assured him. “I only became aware of the situation this morning, and we’re already working to rectify it. There should be a telephone in each suite by this afternoon. The Internet, I’m afraid, will take longer.”
Miss Williams waited a moment, but Rush just scowled grimly and said nothing else, so she continued with her original speech.
“I’d like to introduce Professor Amr Mubarak. He will be in charge of your training here at the ICIC. I believe he has some opening remarks, and then you’ll be welcome to ask any questions you might have. Professor?”
Professor Mubarak stood up to address them. There was a certain stillness about him, even when he moved—a sense of silent, thoughtful reflection. And as he began to speak, his soothing voice (infused with a British accent and a hint of something else) seemed to glide through the air, his words perfectly clear despite their quiet tones.