Scorpion Shards by Neal Shusterman Read Free Book Online

followed, and Michael noted how the guidance counselor’s irritation had already built into frustration.
    â€œI make out a lot,” explained Michael. “I don’t go much past that. Second base, maybe. You know.”
    â€œAm I supposed to believe that?”
    â€œBelieve what you want,” said Michael. And then Michael smiled again. “But to tell you the truth, sex scares me.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Fleiderman. “Afraid you might explode?”
    Michael shrugged. “Yeah. Or that the girl might.”
    Fleiderman laughed uncomfortably, but Michael didn’t. He became dead serious and noticed that Fleiderman’s hands had involuntarily tightened into fists.
    â€œLet’s get back to Miss Benson,” said Fleiderman. He reached up to wipe steam from his glasses.
    â€œWhat happened wasn’t all my fault, okay?” said Michael, beginning to say more than he had really wanted to. “She didn’t have to keep me after class to talk about my book report. She didn’t have to come up to me and touch my shoulder like that—and she didn’t have to kiss me back when I kissed her.”
    Fleiderman gritted his teeth. Michael could see his anger heading toward meltdown. There was no logical reason for it; Michael wasn’t antagonizing him—Michael was, in fact, being honest and spilling his guts, just like Fleiderman wanted. Still the guidance counselor seethed with anger. “Miss Benson will be dealt with,” Fleiderman said. “But now we’re talking about you and your problem of self-control.”
    â€œHow the hell am I supposed to control myself when all the girls in school are after me, and all the guys want to beat the crap out of me?”
    Fleiderman’s whole face seemed clenched as he spat his words out. “Oh, I see. Everyone either loves you or hates you. You’re the center of the universe and everyone’s actions revolve around you.”
    â€œYeah,” said Michael. “That’s it!”
    â€œDelusions!” shouted Fleiderman. He was furious, and Fleiderman never got furious at anything. Staying calm was his job. “It’s all in your head!” he shouted.
    â€œOh yeah?” Michael took a step closer to Fleiderman. Michael was five-seven, Fleiderman closer to six feet. “What do you feel now, Mr. Fleiderman? Do you feel really pissedoff? Do you want to grab me and rip my head off? It’s like you’re turning into a werewolf inside, isn’t it? An animal. Everyone who hangs around me long enough starts acting like an animal out of control. They either want to kill me or kiss me. Actually I’m glad that you’d rather kill me.”
    Meltdown! Fleiderman lost it, and he lunged at Michael, grabbing him by the throat. Michael pushed him away, but Fleiderman lunged again, growling—baring his teeth like a mad dog. Fleiderman smashed the boy with the back of his hand, then threw Michael to the ground; Michael tried to scramble away, but Fleiderman was too fast. He was on Michael, pinning him to the ground; he raised his heavy fist, ready to bring it across Michael’s jaw with a blow that would surely break it.
    â€œStop!” said Michael. “They’re watching!”
    Fleiderman’s wild uneven breath gave way to a whine as he looked up to see that the fog had lifted just enough for the school windows to be seen all around them. Faces peered out from classrooms on all sides, as if this was a Roman circus and Michael was fodder for the lion.
    â€œKill him, Fleiderman,” shouted some kid from the third floor. “Kill the creep!”
    Fleiderman could have—it was in his power, and it was certainly in his eyes; instead, the guidance counselor bit his own lip and continued biting it until it bled. Then he fell off of Michael and crouched in a humiliated heap, trying to find himself once more.
    â€œMy God!” muttered Fleiderman. “What