Socket 2 - The Training of Socket Greeny Read Online Free PDF

stumbled out. One had a red
ponytail bouncing on her shoulders. Chute. The other four
were guys and one of them had his arm across her shoulders. It
wasn’t Streeter.
    My stomach didn’t exactly flip with
excitement. It hardened like a fist.
     
     
     
Paperboy
     
    I remembered those guys from school, a bunch
of virtualmode addicts. They were still ugly but now they sported
tagghet jerseys and strutted through the gates like big shit.
Jenson had a huge nose, Perry had no chin, and Lee’s eyes were too
close. The fourth one was Sheldon. He had blonde hair. He was the
one with his arm over Chute’s shoulders.
    They bookended Chute – two on each side – and
walked close to her. She held a game program and they pretended to
be interested in what she was pointing at but they were slobbering
wolves pretending to be sheep. I didn’t need to see their thoughts,
I could feel their hunger.
    My lip was twitching.
    Chute ran for me when she saw me. I held out
my arms and caught her leaping, spinning her round and round. I
buried my face on her neck, inhaled her fragrance. Her energy
tingled through my senses.
    Her hair was longer. Were her boobs
bigger?
    “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “It
feels like forever.”
    The tension in my chest melted.
    She squeezed my shoulders. “You’re like a
machine. What’re they feeding you at that place?”
    “The same as you, I guess. Look at those
guns.”
    She pulled her short-sleeve back and flexed
her chiseled biceps. We had a laugh and I was lost staring at her,
like I was drinking through my eyes. I’d never forget what she
looked like, but time tends to erode the details. It was the
brightness of her smile and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes
I’d forgotten.
    She introduced her teammates. It had only
been a year, but everyone was forgetting me.
    “This is Shelly.”
    “Shelly?”
    He uncrossed his skinny arms. “Sheldon.”
    We shook hands like arm wrestlers, squeezing
a little too tight. A little too long. “What kind of name is
Socket? You related to Craftsman?”
    The others snorted and sort of hid their
smarmy grins.
    “Shelly!” Chute said, shoving him.
    “What? That was funny, come on. You ever
heard of anyone named Socket?”
    “He’s my best friend, so be nice,” Chute
interrupted before blondie had a chance to say something else. Or
maybe he did say something and I didn’t hear it. I was still
reeling. Friend?
    We were just friends? And who the hell is
Shelly? My mouth hung open and twitched. I hated giving away
emotions.
    “Where’s Streeter?” I asked.
    “He’s busy, couldn’t make it tonight.”
    “Busy? I get one night off and he’s busy ?”
    “You need to call him.”
    “I will.” I reached for my cheek. “I’ll call
him right now.”
    “Hey, man. If you got somewhere to go,”
Shelly said, “we can take Chute off your hands. We got some tagghet
business to talk about anyway, so you go call your little friend and we got this.”
    Little friend. That was a crack on
Streeter’s height. He wanted me to know he and Chute were tight,
that they were hanging out and talking when Streeter and I weren’t
around. He wanted me to think they might even be doing things.
    “No,” I said. “It’s good, I got
it . ”
    I tapped my cheek and activated the nojakk,
mumbling Streeter’s name. The call ticked along, trying to connect.
Meanwhile, Shelly put a piece of gum in his mouth and stared at me
like he was some badass. Christ, tagghet was making him delusional.
The other morons were busy with Chute and her program, but Shelly
was itching for trouble. Why couldn’t he just play nice? Was he
trying to be big dick in charge and I was on his turf?
    I could play nice if they didn’t come off
like possessive jocks. And they weren’t even jocks, they were
goddamn computer dorks wearing uniforms. The only reason they
tagged was because jetters required thought-projection and
virtualmoders were prime candidates. Most of them had