The Dangerous Days of Daniel X Read Online Free PDF Page B

framed articles covering the wall behind his wrecking ball of a head. He was on the phone when I entered. “I know you booked the bus for the debating team, Leopoldo. But how many times are my guys going to get the chance to go to UCLA and watch the Bruins practice? I gotta go. End of debate. You lose.”
    “Hi, I’m —” I started as he hung up the phone with a bang.
    “I know exactly who you are, son,” the vice principal said. “Around here, students speak to staff, and especially me, only when spoken to. Let me see your records.”
    I handed them over. “Sure.”
    “Not one sport?” he said with a shake of his head. “I see you did get perfect attendance. I bet they gave you a shiny blue ribbon and everything back in Kentucky,” he said, laying on the sarcasm.
    Was it me, or did the vice principal have some kind of anger management issue? I let out a breath, trying not to take his attitude personally. I like to give everybody a second chance.
    “You do well academically,” he said with a snort. “What’s your favorite subject?”
    Since I had the encyclopedic power to telepathically access human knowledge, that was a tough call. I noticed Civil War books on a shelf behind his desk.
    “
History,
sir,” I said.
    He turned and stared at the Civil War books on his shelf, then back at me with a who-do-you-think-you’re-fooling look.
    “What a coincidence,” he said, letting my records drop to the desk.
    I glanced out the window behind him. Under a pure blue sky, palm trees were softly swaying in the seventy-two-degree Southern California breeze.
    And I chose to attend school
why
again?
    “Okay, history buff. I’ll bump you into first-period Advanced Social Studies. The one I teach,” he said, standing, as the bell rang.
    Call me overly paranoid, but I wondered if maybe Mr. Marshman was somewhere on my List.
    Chapter 20
    SO THIS WAS HIGH SCHOOL—not too bad, not too good, could have been a lot more stimulating. I was coming out of bio lab, my last class of the day, when I brushed against a skinny freshman hurrying down the hall. He looked nervous and scared, and I felt kind of bad for the guy.
    Then I heard his thoughts in my head.
Ugh. My sneakers are so six months ago. Everybody’s checking out my shoes. Everybody’s looking at me! Don’t look at me. Please!
    I shook my head like a swimmer trying to get water out of his ears. I guess I was tired and my telepathic mental filters were shot. The
thoughts
of the students swirling around in the corridor were leaking into my head.
    Well, well. Amanda’s definitely flirting with me,
I overheard a good-looking jock in a football jacket think as he winked at a pretty girl.
Back at you, baby.
    I quickened my pace, trying to get out of there. I can promise you that knowing everybody’s secrets is nowhere near as cool as it sounds.
    First day’s over, and I haven’t even talked to anybody,
I suddenly heard in my head, and it wasn’t my own voice.
I don’t want to do this anymore. I hate this school.
    I stopped suddenly, looking around to see whose thoughts I’d just intercepted.
    I spotted a tall, black-haired girl trying to lift a bulky backpack while also balancing a clarinet case. She turned around and I saw her face.
    What felt like an invisible wall toppled over on me. She was really cute. Her eyes were amazing. So why was she so sad?
    “Hi,” I said, stepping in her direction. “Sorry to bother you. Uhmm, could you tell me where the library is?”
    “No idea,” she said quietly as she averted her eyes from mine. “I’m new here.”
    I shrugged. “So am I. Say, could I give you a hand with those books? I’m Daniel. Not that you asked.”
    She actually smiled, a half smile anyway. “I’m Phoebe Cook,” she said. Those eyes of hers were deep blue, flecked with silver. Gorgeous—and friendly. “So do you have a last name too, Daniel?”
    I paused. Of course, I had a
fake
last name, but it never really feels like me somehow. It felt a