Classified

Chapter 5 - "Because I'm extremely smart."

"Come on," Donovan said.

Dropping his backpack onto a table, he indicated for Link to follow him. Link hurriedly dumped his stuff and trailed him. Donovan led him into a row of bookshelves with a view of the line of tables with students already parked at them. Donovan surveyed them, making note of the disheveled boy and the collection of girls.

"It's simple before you even look at someone, you take in the environment," Donovan said, double-checking that no one was around them. "Where are we?"

"A library at a school," Link said.

"More specific."

"At Hamilton Prep."

"Exactly, a private high school, one of the most prestigious in the country. What does that tell you about the students who go here?"

Donovan slid his hands into his pockets and rested back on a bookshelf. Link had rarely wanted to know this type of thing. Now that he knew Carter could do it, Donovan wondered if Link finally saw it was a skill that could be learned, not something only Donovan had the ability to do.

"Rich, privileged," Link said.

"Right. A few don't fall under that category but they are easy to see." Carter came to mind. Her blazer was faded and the edges looked a bit frayed. He figured it was a year or two old. The cuffs of her pants also bore the same marks of wear. Based on her test scores, he deduced she was at Hamilton on scholarship.

"Now that you know that basic fact," Donovan continuing the lesson. "You look at each student through the lens of knowing that they come from money, and to go to school with the First Son, they also have connections. From there you take in the details of the individual."

Link nodded and gazed out on the tables.

"Okay," he said. "That boy over there, at the end of the table, what can you tell me about him?"

Donovan noted the boy in question, absorbing all the details.

"Sophomore." Based on the subjects of the textbooks around him. "Left-handed." Obvious fact. "From a well-to-do family." Naturally. Donovan took in the boy's appearance. His uniform was starched, which was clear from the sharp creases on the sleeves and the collar. "They have a housemaid that irons his clothes, but he has nervous and untidy tendencies. See how his collar is stiff, but the rest of the shirt is disheveled. As well as his hair, it's neat on one side and not the other. He runs his hand through it when he's concentrating."

Donovan watched the boy, noticing how his gaze never shifted further down the page, how he stared uncomprehendingly at the same paragraph over and over again. Where most would give up at that point, the boy determinedly stuck to it, trying to understand the content.

"He's about a B-average student and that's only because he studies as much as he does. He struggles with understanding the material."

Link scratched his head, brow furrowed as if he were trying to see what Donovan saw but failing.

"How do you know?"

"He has been on the same page for the last ten minutes," Donovan said. "I would bet the same paragraph as well. He studies but doesn't know how to do it well. His parents aren't overly involved in his life or else they would have noticed his struggle and hired a tutor."

"Right," Link said. "What do you make of the blonde?"

The blonde Link pointed out sat on the edge of the group of friends. Where each girl around her wore their uniform with a distinctive uniqueness, this girl seemed to have mimicked one trait from each of her friends. Even as she listened to them talk, Donovan noticed how she mirrored their gestures.