Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF

up here and solve the problem, please?”
    The whole class turns to watch him get out of his desk and walk up slowly, without a care, to the board. He sighs, uncaps a pen, and reads the equation. I’m not a math genius, but I’m not an idiot, either. The equation isn’t something we’re supposed to tackle until next year. It’s monstrous, and complicated. Shadus reads it for three seconds. And then he starts scribbling. Neat, even numbers and letters and symbols. When he’s finished, he puts the pen back, and looks to Mr. Weylan.
    “I’m going back to my seat, now. I understand it is your job to teach me mathematic principles. As you can see, I know them. I expect you will not request public displays of my ability for the remainder of the semester.”
    Mr. Weylan’s eyes are wide as he double-checks the equation. The class murmurs behind his back. Shadus sweeps back to his seat and puts his chin in his hand, looking out the window with utmost listlessness. After a moment, Mr. Weylan clears his throat and fixes his crooked glasses. Shadus was obviously correct.
    “Yes, well. Let’s move on. Today we’re going to apply the value of a matrix to –”
    I tune Weylan out and look at Shadus incredulously. Who does he think he is? The way he spoke to Mr. Weylan dripped of entitlement and arrogance. When we have a free period to do our worksheets in a group, I sit in the empty desk in front of Shadus, who’s now sleeping with his head against the window. I crumple up a ball of paper and throw it at his face. It bounces off his nose and he wakes up, glaring grumpily at me.
    “Did you do that?”
    “Uh, I dunno, did you just act like a massive ass in front of the whole class?” He opens his mouth, but I interrupt. “The answer you’re looking for is yes, by the way.”
    “I know all these things already,” Shadus yawns, tears forming in his eyes. “Gutters are gifted at rote memory. Mathematics are simple for us. I’m not special. All the Gutters you see here are pretending to be learning. How they can stand it, I have no idea.”
    “Why pretend?” I hiss.
    “To look good for the humans. To look as though we are cooperating.” He sighs. “It’s a play. A farce. We know nearly everything your teachers will instruct you on, but we pretend we don’t to make you humans feel as though you’re contributing to our learning. It’s pathetic.”
    “Then why send Gutters here at all?”
    “Again, to look good,” He insists. “We’re here with you. Learning your ways. You’re learning ours. We’ll all get along. Cooperation. Isn’t it beautiful?”
    He smiles, but it’s angry and sharp.
    “You’re wrong,” I whisper. “You are different from the rest of the Gutters. You just can’t bear to pretend, can you? Your sotho pride won’t let you.”
    His eyes turn dark, his voice cold. “You know nothing of sotho . Don’t act as though you do just because Raine’s told you a few things. You know nothing, human. And you will always know nothing.”
    The bell rings just then. I watch him gather his books and leave as quickly and smoothly as a winter wind.
                            ***
     
    The food is the only thing I like about Green Hills High. Breakfast is warm chocolate croissants, lunch is fresh green salads, and dinner is skirt steak. Good food. Not tuna casserole four nights in a row. Not food bank boxed meals. Actual food, cooked with fresh herbs and expensive vegetables. Dad can’t afford stuff like this. I haven’t eaten like this since Mom died.
    Gutters sit with groups of humans. There’s civil talking. Some people are obviously able to get over the fact we’re their dinner.
    The Gutter foodstuffs are vials of clear liquid, each with different labels in a strange, loopily-written alien language - probably to differentiate the tastes. Anger, I hear whispers from Gutters, is spicy. Sadness is mild, starchy. Their Gutter scientists must separate each emotion somehow. The