Another Pan by Daniel Nayeri Read Free Book Online Page A

chastised herself for being shallow in front of the hot new RA and forced herself closer to him. Connor didn’t notice, anyway. If they were alone, Wendy would have thanked him for sticking up for John, for being so perfect in every important way. She would have done something to show that she wanted to
deserve
him. But they weren’t alone, and the RA with the brown curls was turning around to take one last look at the scene, capturing the attention of everyone around him with every minuscule gesture, making Wendy notice Connor’s youth and his tight grip and his sporty smell, forcing her to think of grad students and disloyalty. The RA’s dark gaze caught Wendy’s for just a second before she turned sharply into Connor’s arm. Again, Connor didn’t notice. As they walked toward the locker rooms, he rattled on about weekend plans and last week’s game and entitled druggies who spew lies about his teammates.

    “We’re late in the fourth quarter of the New York Prep State Championship here at Madison Square Garden, and these two teams are matching each other punch for punch — a slugfest between two heavyweights. Demarcus Marchand, captain point guard for Bard Academy, has almost single-handedly carried his team through the second half. But Connor Wirth, the Marlowe captain, hasn’t slouched on the other side. It may be presumptuous for me to call, but I see hints of Larry Bird in that young man. From the floor, this reporter has seen Wirth call a number of his shots, right at Marchand, and then execute. Wirth has been playing with a superstar swagger. . . .
    Marlowe comes out of the time-out with the ball, down by one. A double screen, in to Wirth at the top of the key, Marchand is in his face, ten seconds left, he fakes left, goes right, Marchand stays with him but Wirth pulls back, a spin, Marchand is WAY out of place, Wirth with a turnaround jumper pulls the trigger at the buzzer . . . it’s in! Marlowe wins! Marlowe wins! Marlowe wins the state championship off the last-second heroics of Connor Wirth!”

Peter woke with a start. At first he didn’t recognize his dorm. He was always in strange beds, in houses that didn’t belong to him. He ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.
Another nightmare
. They were getting worse, more intense, and the stress was getting to him. He spotted the moth in the corner. He wished for someone, a protector, to ward off his dreams.
But what if the one standing over your bed is the one causing it all?
    More than anything, Peter still hated getting older. But a close second was the dark. The night was when Peter was most alone. No Tina, no LBs, no one but Peter himself, alone with his thoughts, his fears, his deepest regrets. All those monsters that lurked after dusk. The broken eye that was fixed on him always. Night is the time when everything can go wrong. Twelve hours, twelve chances for disaster. Night is when his oldest nemesis tried to haunt him, to hurt him, to scare him away.
All nights come to an end,
Peter assured himself.

“Sorry I’m late, class. . . . Class. Quiet down, please.”
    Professor Darling stumbled through the door, holding a pile of books, notes, a laptop, some rolled-up schematics, and his third cup of coffee. He unloaded the heap on his desk. Wendy and John were already nervous.
    “You got lucky this time, Professor,” said Marla, from the back of the class. “Two more minutes and we were going to invoke the ten-minute rule.”
    Professor Darling picked up some notes that had fallen to the floor.
    “The ten-minute rule?” he said distractedly.
    “Yeah, ten minutes and the students get to walk out,” said Marla.
    The professor adjusted his notebooks, pushed his glasses to the top of his nose, and snapped back to the present.
    “I assure you, Marla, that the Marlowe rule book does not contain any kind of clause allowing students to walk out on their own education.”
    “Well,” said Marla, crossing her arms, “it should.”
    A few