Fallout (Lois Lane) by Gwenda Bond Read Free Book Online Page B

starving.
    Meanwhile, Anavi was busy staring at me, wide-eyed. “Um, sincere apologies, but—”
    “I’m sorry that you do mind. But I’m staying. Don’t worry, I’m not offended that you don’t want me to. My feelings don’t bruise easily.” Or at least I was good at pretending they didn’t. I sat down, putting my bag on the table beside me. “You should know I’m going to help you. Bullies like the Warheads don’t work like adults usually say. It’s not that they’re all talk and you just have to stand up to them. It’s that talk can be bad enough, but usually they’re more than willing to act too. And from what I saw earlier, it’s pretty clear these guys are not shy about acting.”
    Anavi didn’t interrupt, which I took as a positive sign. I went on.
    “Whatever those creepy Warheads creeps are doing to you, it’s wrong. I know there’s more to it than whispers.” Here it was. I was going to talk about things most people would call crazy with someone besides SmallvilleGuy. I didn’t see any other way to convince Anavi that I was on her side. “What you told the principal? After this morning, I believe you. I’m not going to leave you to deal with them by yourself.”
    Anavi swallowed, but she didn’t speak.
    I gave her time while I took a bite of pizza. Definitely sad, but, again, still pizza.
    “Why?” Anavi asked finally, the question forcing its way out.
    “Because they’re jerks of the highest magnitude,” I said, trying to speak the girl’s language. “The principal shouldn’t be letting them get away with tormenting you, or anything else. I didn’t like the way the teacher acted around them either. Like she was intimidated, afraid to put them in their place. Something’s definitely wrong here.”
    I set down the sad pizza slice, puzzled again by how willing the adults were to indulge the Warheads’ behavior.
    “No,” Anavi blurted. “It’s just . . . that’s not what I . . . Why do you believe me? About the rest.”
    “Oh.” I had fallen into my old habit of barreling ahead and leaving whoever I was talking to behind by accident. I backtracked. “You mean about them messing with your head? This isn’t my first school. It’s not even my tenth. I’ve been a lot of places, and I’ve seen a lot of things. I can tell when things are . . . off. I also know that sometimes the explanations aren’t the obvious ones or ones that even seem possible.”
    “But . . . ” Anavi hesitated.
    “Go on. I’m on your side.”
    “But I’m becoming more convinced that I am . . . losing my sanity.” Anavi looked away, into the corner. There was nowhere else to look if she didn’t want to meet my eyes.
    Reaching into my messenger bag, I found a notebook and pen. I inched my tray back to make room to take notes.
    “You’re not,” I said. “I won’t let you. How long have you been playing
Worlds
?”
    Anavi looked at me then, which was progress. And she didn’t balk at the notebook, though she raised her eyebrows at it. “I’ve only been playing since I aged out of the bee. I had all that time to fill. No more flashcards and word lists and sessions with my coach. Studying for school doesn’t take as long. My neighbor, Will, was into it, and he taught me how to play.”
    More progress.
    “Tell me when it started. Them acting like this toward you. Were they always so mean?”
    “In the game?” Anavi asked.
    I thought back to what Devin had told me. “I heard that they’re cannibals in it.”
    “I disagree,” Anavi said. “They were, they used to be. They used to turn on each other. I’ve been in there while they were fighting amongst the team, hurling each other into four-story monsters or into alien-probe traps.”
    Alien-probe traps?
“Yikes.”
    Anavi went on. “But then they turned more . . . socio, serial. A couple of months ago.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Sociopaths, serial killers.”
    You don’t say
. “Psychos. I got that part. What does it mean