Don't Care High by Gordon Korman Read Free Book Online Page B

go up in a pillar of flames, she actually demonstrated concern for his welfare by saying, “Okay?” which seemed to be a shortened version of “Are you okay?”
    â€œI’m fine,” breathed Paul, his hand still on the gas knob. “And my eyebrows will probably grow back.”
    Daphne didn’t appear to appreciate this brave attempt at humor. Her attention, such as it was, had wandered back to Wayne-o, who was burning his name into the counter with pure, concentrated sulfuric acid. He was later caught at this, and Mr. Schmidt decided to mark him absent.
    In geography, the first of the presentations on “The Industrial Giants” began. Samuel Wiscombe led off with a presentation on Japan. He walked to the front of the class and began to set up various maps, charts and graphs, much to the delight of Mrs. Wolfe. He perched on the teacher’s desk, took out a small stack of notes written on file cards and began his introduction.
    â€œThis project deals with the economic factors affecting the direction of industry in China —”
    â€œThat’s
Japan
!” shrieked Mrs. Wolfe.
    Samuel shrugged. “Same difference.”
    When Mrs. Wolfe turned away from admonishing Samuel, she found her class stoic as always, with the exception of Sheldon and Paul, who were red-faced with laughter, tears running down their cheeks.
    â€œYou two! Out!”
    The two boys couldn’t even manage an apology. They got to their feet and stumbled out into the hall, still laughing.
    â€œWell,” gasped Sheldon, finally getting himself under control, “we seem to find ourselves with a two-hour lunch. So do we head for the cafeteria and dine on mildew, or do we check out the limitless vista of establishments our fair city has to offer?”
    â€œI’ll settle for the mildew,” said Paul feelingly. “It’s safer. Besides, I’ve got to study for my French test this afternoon.”
    Sheldon winced. “There’s that ambition again. I thought you had it under control. Every now and then you just plain turn into a student. It’s disgusting.”
    They had lunch, and Paul excused himself, saying he was heading for the library to study.
    â€œHave you ever been in our library?” Sheldon called after him. “The lighting’s so bad you can’t see to read.”
    When Paul got to his locker, it was not, however, his French book he pulled out; it was his 35mm camera, which he slung over his shoulder. And his destination was not the library but the parking lot. Guilt for excluding Sheldon from this mission was not his major emotion — it was embarassment. But his embarassment did not outweigh his curiosity. Mike Otis’s car had to be something, but what?
    As he left the school building and stepped onto the broken pavement of the parking lot, he observed that, if an exiting vehicle ever jumped the guardrail on the 22nd Street ramp, it would drive right into Feldstein’s stairwell. Then he saw Mike’s car. It was bigger, shinier and blacker than anything on the lot.
    Camera at the ready, he examined the car from hood ornament to taillights. There were absolutely no identifying marks, with the exception of the Roman number
VIII
in tiny chrome letters on the back right-hand fender. Glancing furtively around him, he began to snap pictures of the car from every conceivable angle. This done, he returned to his locker, feeling self-conscious and not just a little foolish.
    The next day, Sheldon and Paul entered the school to be greeted by a great hum in the corridor outside Feldstein’s office. A group of students populated the hall in various relaxed postures, their eyes intent on a workman perched on a ladder. He had ripped out the old broken clock and was replacing it with a shiny new one.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Paul asked the first face he took to be familiar. It was Peter Eversleigh.
    Peter chewed on his breakfast