The Juvie Three by Gordon Korman Read Free Book Online Page A

at him. Teeth jagged, like a hammerhead shark’s.
    Terence presses his advantage. “Let me paint you a picture—big display of PS-3s stacked so high they block the motion sensor. You go in through the basement, stay in the shadow of the PlayStations, you’re not even there.”
    DeAndre is intrigued, but he’s also suspicious. “If you’re messing with me, dead man, you picked the wrong yo.”
    Which only convinces Terence that he’s picked exactly the right yo.
    Gecko swipes his lunch card and scans the crowded cafeteria. The absurdity of this daily gesture always gets to him. What does he expect to see? A table of buddies, waving and beckoning? He’s an outsider here. An outsider pretty much everywhere, he realizes. Back home, high school has started, but without him. He’s an MIA, a cautionary tale— Keep your nose clean or you’ll wind up like Gecko. As for his family, he was always sort of a stepchild there. Mom, overworked, underpaid, struggling to make ends meet. Stressing over Reuben’s life of crime left her little time to think about the other kid in the house.
    His eyes fall on a familiar face—Diego from freshman chemistry, alone at a corner table.
    Oh, right, like I’d be a welcome lunch guest there. The guy’ll swallow his napkin when he sees me coming.
    As Gecko watches, a furtive hand snakes down to Diego’s lunch and applies a delicate flick to his plastic spoon, spraying soup in his face. When a shocked Diego wheels to investigate, an arm reaches around and dumps the contents of the tray into his lap. The freshman leaps up to confront his tormentor and finds himself face-to-chest with a tall, burly football type, Diego versus Goliath.
    Gecko takes an instinctive step in his direction and freezes. What am I doing? To Diego, I’m scarier than the kid who’s picking on him.
    A mean-spirited bullying half-wit is still preferable to a convicted felon. Besides, it’s not as if he and Diego are friends.
    Anyway, the standoff defuses itself when Goliath is distracted by a table of cheering teammates. Gecko sets his own tray down at a spot by the window. It seems unfair that a total jerk has friends and he doesn’t. Not that Gecko isn’t grateful to be out of Atchison, but Healy’s whole setup is like a guarantee against any kind of social life.
    The food at Walker is pretty decent—compared to juvie, at least—but he can never seem to work up much of an appetite. He pushes his Salisbury steak away and peers through the dirty glass at the street scene outside.
    To his surprise, he finds himself looking at Terence Florian. His roommate is on the opposite sidewalk, deep in conversation with a tough-looking kid Gecko has seen around school. Gecko frowns. The problem isn’t Terence’s choice of company; it’s his location. Healy’s trio is barred from venturing off campus during school hours. With the halfway house still on probation, any violation could shut it down.
    I’m not going back to jail because of that idiot!
    Lunch forgotten, he’s out of the cafeteria, through the double doors, and darting past honking taxis.
    Terence sees him coming. “Step off, dog. Private meeting.”
    â€œI’m not your dog!” Gecko hisses. “You know the rules—get back inside!”
    DeAndre scowls over his falafel at the newcomer. “Who’s your nanny?”
    â€œTotal stranger.” Terence rakes Gecko with a severe gaze. “Right?”
    Gecko doesn’t budge. “Whatever you say—so long as you’re saying it inside. ”
    DeAndre takes a bite of his lunch. “I’ll give you some time to get straight with the little yo.” He begins an unhurried crossing of the street back toward school, forcing cars and buses to go around him.
    Terence wheels on Gecko, furious. “You mess with my business again, I will end you!”
    â€œYou don’t