Darkborn Read Online Free PDF Page A

back to play with Will.
    “This animal —” Will said.
    Realizing — only then — that it wasn’t just the shower water running off his cheeks.
    I’m crying. Goddammit, I’m crying in front of everyone.
    That was the worst, the absolute lowest.
    “Hey, hey, hey!” Henkel said, turning to him, waving a meat-bone index finger that showed he descended from the same evolutionary offshoot as D’Angelo.
    There were humans, and there were these geeks.
    “None of that,” Henkel scolded. “Watch your language!”
    Then Will saw an incredible thing.
    Henkel turned back to D’Angelo and actually put an arm around his shoulders. Patted his oxlike back. “Go get dressed,” he said. Then, as if the physical education teacher realized that he had a crowd of kids watching, he said;
    “The two a yers are going to detention today.”
    Yers ? What kind of word is that? wondered Will.
    D’Angelo stopped. “But, Coach, what about practice?”
    Henkel raised a hand. Such a fair and impartial man. “Detention first,” he said, looking at Will and the other kids, and then he turned back to D’Angelo. “And then practice. Now, everybody clear out of here before you miss lunch.”
    And Will stood there a moment.
    Marveling.
    The whole thing had taken only minutes. But it seemed as if he’d been in this hell, this shower, for a lifetime.
    He turned to walk out, to leave with his friends, to the corner of the locker room where they had their lockers.
    But they weren’t there.
    They had left already. Quickly.
    Leaving Will behind.
     
    He saw them at lunch. His friends, but he quickly looked away.
    He swore he saw Whalen lean forward and say something to the others that made grins bloom on their faces.
    They were all there. Tim. Narrio. The Kiffer.
    But if they’re my friends, Will thought, angry at being left to fend for himself, maybe I’m better off hanging alone.
    So he took his tray of pureed mystery meat on toast points and a big slab of what was dubbed “Boston cream pie,” and went off to the side, where the freshmen — looking absolutely juvenile — sat.
    For now he didn’t want to talk with anybody.
     
    It was before the last period when Tim came up to Will just as he slammed his locker. Tim pushed back his glasses and stood next to Will.
    “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
    Will nodded.
    Great. Wonderful. Nothing like getting pissed on by the star fullback who then tries to kill you.
    Will nodded and then turned to go to their last class, Latin 4. Cicero was wrapping up Caesar’s last campaign. Gripping stuff.   .   . especially in the original.
    Tim grabbed his arm to stop him. Will shrugged it off.
    “Hey, wait a second,” Tim said. “Christ, Will, don’t go getting all bent out of shape. You had a fight.” Tim leaned close to Will, had to actually stretch up to say something in Will’s ear.
    “He’s a fucking Gamma-minus,” Tim said, referring to Aldous Huxley’s alphabetical classification of humanity from Brave New World . Will and his friends were sure that they were the Alphas — the smart ones who’d someday buy and sell D’Angelo and his goony friends.
    Will smiled, despite his anger.
    Tim could do that. He could always make Will laugh.
    But then he forced an angry mask back onto his face. “We’re gonna be late,” Will said.
    The hall was empty, except for Father Ed, the youngest teacher in the school. He played guitar. Took them to the soup kitchens of the Catholic Worker.
    A real Red, Tim pronounced. But Will thought that the priest was okay.
    “Are you mad at us?” Tim asked. “Are you mad ‘cause we didn’t help?”
    Will stopped. “Some help would have been nice.”
    Tim let his arms fly out, gesturing dramatically. He was the school’s best debater, a state champion. He knew how to take the podium and use it.
    “Sure, and can you see me up against that monster? He could fucking pick me up and bounce me against the ceiling. Besides, Narrio had already gone for Henkel