The next morning.
Night had passed. Still no word from Ms. Michelle… or Mr. Michael.
Jake stood at the edge of his bed, quietly buttoning his uniform shirt. Carl was humming some off-key tune while stuffing books and other stuff into his backpack.
"Ow! Shit." Jake winced, pulling his foot back.
Carl didn't even look up. "Jane hit herself again?"
Jake narrowed his eyes, wiggling his toes inside his shoes. "Feels like it. I think she tried a full split at midnight. My thighs are still screaming."
Carl chuckled, finally zipping his bag. "At least the telepathy's gone. Haven't heard Carly's voice in my head since the last Merge Pulse."
"Yeah… noticed that too," Jake said as he adjusted his tie, slid on his glasses, and pulled on his headset.
Carl threw his bag over his shoulder, popped open a mini pack of nachos, and grinned. "Alrighty, let's roll."
They opened their room door—and immediately saw Jane and Carly coming out of theirs across the hall.
