Variant by Robison Wells Read Free Book Online Page B

green eyes and red hair that was almost as bright as her sweater.
    I nodded and pointed at my lip, which was still a little swollen. “I’ll try not to do it again.”
    “Why?” she said with a laugh. “I hope you do. I hope I’m there to see it next time. I’m Jane. And that’s Lily.”
    “Hi,” I said. “I’m Benson.”
    Jane’s eyes narrowed, but the grin never faded from her face. “That’s a weird name. Who are you named after?”
    I shrugged. “No idea.”
    “Well, Benson, I’m glad you picked the V’s. We’re not very big, and we need everyone we can get.”
    “I don’t plan to stick around very long,” I said, which caused her to laugh again.
    “You can’t say stuff like that,” she said, pretending to be scandalized. “What if the Society hears you?”
    Maybe I needed to revise my assessment of the school. Jane seemed happy—truly happy. For some reason, until sitting here in class, I hadn’t really contemplated getting to know any girls in this weird prison of a school.
    “Where are you from, Jane?”
    “Baltimore. Hang on—time for class. Did they tell you about class?”
    I shook my head. “Not really.”
    “They don’t teach us reading and writing.” She smirked, and then turned back to face forward.
    The students quieted down very quickly, much more so than in my schools back home. A girl stood up at the front of the class—she’d been sitting in the desk next to Becky. Her blond hair was pulled into a tight bun and her severe makeup made her skin almost as white as her teeth.
    “Welcome to class,” she said, a little overly enthusiastic. “We’re very pleased to have a new student this morning. Benson, could you stand up and introduce yourself?”
    I glanced over at Mason, who smiled and shrugged.
    “I’m Benson Fisher,” I said. “From Pittsburgh. I’m seventeen. And I think it’s absolute bullcrap that you guys are all sitting here, pretending like nothing’s wrong.”
    There were murmurs in the class as I sat back down, followed by a few giggles. Jane turned back and gave me an approving nod. The girl at the front of the class didn’t seem fazed at all. Becky faced straight ahead, motionless.
    “Welcome, Benson,” she said. “I know you’ll fit right in.” She opened her minicomputer. “My name is Laura, and I’m the teaching assistant in this class. Mason, could you please help Benson out today?”
    Mason gave a sarcastic salute.
    “Thank you. Before we begin, I just need to announce today’s punishments.” Laura scanned the classroom, glancing slowly back and forth between her computer screen and the students in the desks. “Ah. Skiver. Fighting. No food today.”
    Skiver, sitting against the back wall, swore and punched his desk. I looked back at Laura just in time to miss what Skiver did next, but her white face went red, and she stumbled over her next few words.
    “It, uh, it looks . . . No one else in here is on the punishment list. Well done. Our lesson today is a little departure from what we’ve been studying, but you were all doing so well with Materials Science that I guess they’ve decided we’re ready to move on. Today we’ll be talking about aesthetics.”
    Jane and Lily exchanged a look. Lily rolled her eyes.
    “Aesthetics,” Laura said, reading from her computer, “is the philosophy that deals with the study of beauty. In this course we will be addressing such questions as ‘What is art?’ and ‘What is beauty?’”
    Mason leaned over to me and whispered, “It’s something new every couple of weeks. Weird junk, like this. At least Materials Science had explosions.”
    Class seemed to last forever. Laura only spoke for a few minutes, and then she handed out a test that was supposed to gauge our knowledge on the subject. I didn’t know a single answer. After the test we watched a video that was nothing but an endless slideshow of statues, vases, and paintings, all with a monotone British guy speaking in the