The Eve Genome by Joanne Brothwell Read Free Book Online

me.
    “Hi,” Adriana said as she gathered her backpack and swung it over her shoulder. She stepped forward and as she drew nearer, an infusion of her scent filled the air, a lovely combination of soap and raspberries. The mixture made my head spin and my mouth water. “I’m Adriana,” she said.
                  “Hi, I’m Kalan.”
                  “I wanted to thank you for stepping up like that. It’s not often someone will take on Johansson. He’s got quite the reputation for being a hot-head. Last year a student from a course on social deviance was hanging around in his classroom, acting like a… well, a social deviant, and Johansson lost it. His face turned all purple and he started screaming and freaking out.” Adriana rolled her eyes. “Anyway, thanks. I’m heading to my next class. You?”
                  “You’re welcome. And yes, I’m heading to my next class too.” I followed her out the door and we set off down the bleach-scented hallway, the janitor halfway down the hall, mopping away. “Which classroom are you—”
                  I was interrupted by a jeering call that originated from a group of mammoth-sized guys lingering against a windowsill. “Wow, that is quite a tan, dude.” A few of them were grinning while others looked away, as if pretending nothing happened. I was used to these kinds of comments. I’d been called worse.
    Adriana swore and shot them a glare. “So rude,” she said, loud enough for them to hear. We continued to walk. “Sorry about that.”
                  “That’s nothing compared to what I’ve been called before,” I said.
                  “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you… albino? Sorry, is that even a politically correct term?”
                  We took a few more steps down the hall before I finally answered. “Yeah. I have Acromia. It’s a genetic anomaly.”
                  “I know. Albinism affects approximately one in twenty thousand people,” Adriana said, looking up at me through a thick fringe of black lashes. “Remembered it from first-year Bio.”             
                  “Impressive. And do you remember why?” I smiled. “Why I have white hair, the white skin?”
                  Adriana’s eyes widened. “The absence of an enzyme involving the production of melanin,” she said as if describing the ingredients involved in making Kraft Dinner. “Have you ever had the genetic test?”
                  “Yes. But it only served to confirm what I already knew.”
                  We approached a corner, where it was clear we were about to part ways. “I’m heading to this way,” Adriana said, examining my face so closely my nerves began to sing. “Hey—what about your eyes? They aren’t pink,” Adriana’s own pupils dilated, endlessly black within a tiny ring of pale teal.
                  I nodded, swallowing against a lump in my throat. “I know. They’re more—”
                  “Silver,” Adriana interrupted in a liquid voice. She stepped forward and set warm fingers on my jaw, tilting my face down for a closer look. I swallowed. She was far more… assertive than what I’d expected. Her finger pressure was tight, but the skin of her hand was warm, soft. Her scent curled up around me once again, the heady infusion so sweet and so potent I got light-headed.
                  Her eyes shimmered, her mouth slightly open. Few girls had ever been this close to me before, especially a girl who also happened to look like a model. My cheeks warmed.
                  “Silver eyes. So cool,” Adriana said. She let go of my jaw.
    It was obvious we were about to part ways. Shit. Just ask . “Hey, I heard you talking to your friend in class. You said something about having a weird blood