By Christie Reed
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Van Ny is quite capable, but I was thinking of someone else. Perhaps . ” She made a show of turning her head from side to side, as if searching the room, but Simon noted that her eyes (and the top of her hair) never left him. ” Mrs. Desmond squinted to follow Miss Fanstrom’s pointed ﬁnger. “Him? Er, Stanley? No, my mistake, Simon. Simon Bloom. But he—” She stopped herself. “Of course, Miss Fanstrom. ” Simon rose from his seat, his mind bubbling with questions, but he just nodded and followed Miss Fanstrom—and her strange hairdo—out the door.
Fearing the worst, Simon ran, too; he didn’t want to meet whoever was chasing Owen. Simon found the boy cowering against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, with his arms crossed in front of his face. ” Simon, as always, was impressed that Owen could say so much without taking a breath. ” Owen lowered his arms and tried to calm down. “Oh, it’s you, Simon. ” Simon looked around. “Marcus and Barry. They’re after me, but it was an accident. ” Simon asked. “And it’s chili day,” Owen moaned. ” � 36 � Simon heard the boys’ room door at the other end of the hall slam open; they’d probably just checked the stalls looking for Owen and would hit the stairwell next.
It was a physics textbook. There was a title page, a table of contents, formulas, deﬁnitions, diagrams. It just looked like a more complicated version of the science books he read in school. He ﬂipped to the chapter on gravity and groaned again. How, he wondered, could something magical be so boring? He frowned at the thrumming Book. ” The noise died away, but then bright blue words appeared. Turn the page, they said. Simon did as he was told. He squinted, unsure of what he was looking at. There were several blue shapes and squiggles unlike anything he’d ever seen, but he somehow knew they meant something.