Read Online Going Bovine by Libba Bray - Free Book Online

those who are friendly to his “let’s get jazzed about forced reading” rap. He knows to overlook me. The weird muscle twitches in my leg haven’t stopped. And from the corner of my eye, I think I see flames licking at the walls. When I turn my head, they’re sucked back in. It’s the lack of sleep, I tell myself. Unless I get good and wasted, I can’t manage more than an hour or two. I’m so exhausted I’m seeing shit.
    “Anybody?” Mrs. Rector asks when no one answers Glass’s prompt. “Miss Rodriguez?”
    Our future valedictorian doesn’t disappoint. “Sampson Carrasco comes up with a way to trick Don Quixote into accepting his life and his place in society and, eventually, his death.”
    “Yes, very good, and how does he do that? Remember—you must cite examples from the text. That’s what you’ll do on the test. Don’t overthink it—too much thinking will kill you on the SPEW test.”
    “Well, instead of telling him that he’s crazy or he can’t do this, he can’t do that, he encourages him to go on all these adventures. But Sampson disguises himself and goes along.”
    “Yes. And why does he do that … Mr. King?”
    “Me? Aw, I’m sorry, Mr. Glass. I didn’t read it.”
    “Why not, Mr. King?”
    “I object on religious grounds.”
    Mr. Glass rolls his eyes as Chet’s football buddies snicker. My head feels like it could explode. Like I need to scream or hit somebody. And just like that, my left arm gets a rogue message and jerks out.
    Mr. Glass squints in my direction. “Yes, Mr. …” He has to consult his class roster to remember who I am. “Smith? You must have had something you wanted to add?”
    “No. I …” The buzzing in my ears is getting worse. “Stop it!”
    The football guys start humming the annoying theme song from a classic sci-fi show. A fresh wave of laughter travels over the class and Mrs. Rector has to shush them; it’s all like a detonation to my ears. Press my palms to my head. Stop, stop, stop.
    “Come on, Mr. Smith. Venture out of your shell.” Yeah, fuck you, too, Mr. Glass. Man, my head. “Why does Sampson Carrasco travel with Don Quixote in disguise? To trick him?” Stop. Please. “To lure him? To help him? Why …”
    “Because …” The buzzing inside me is so intense I can’t take it anymore. “Because … fuck off!”
    Mrs. Rector’s mouth hangs open. Mr. Glass, for once, is speechless. Somebody gasps, “Oh my God.”
    Mr. Glass’s mouth snaps back into a tight line. “Mr. Smith, you will leave the classroom.”
    “I’m sorry, I … aaaaahhhh!” My body’s on fire with pain. “Goddammit!”
    Mrs. Rector points to the door with dramatic flair. “Leave. My. Classroom. Now.”
    “It’s okay, Señora Rector,” Stoner Kevin says. “Cameron’s cool. He just ate some wicked mushrooms, that’s all.”
    Yeah, thanks for that, Kev. I try to grab my backpack, but it’s like my muscles are from another planet, jerking and twitching in a bad robot dance that gets more snickering from the class.
    Mrs. Rector’s voice takes on that I’m-above-it-all tone. “I’ve had quite enough. Could someone please escort Mr. Smith to Principal Hendricks’s office?”
    “Sure thing, Mrs. Rector.” Chet King gets out of his seat and towers over me. “Come on, bro. You’re not being funny anymore.”
    On an ordinary day I would hate Chet King both for his prison guard stance and for calling me “bro.” But this is not an ordinary day, and all I can feel is totally freaked out that my body isn’t getting any of my brain’s frantic commands to move. His hand lands on my arm, and it’s like a burn.
    “Ahh, shit!” I scream. My spastic arm flies out and whacks Chet in the gut. He’s a big guy, but the punch catches him off guard. His knees hit the floor, followed quickly by the rest of him. The jocks are on me at once. Every touch feels like it’s connecting with raw nerve endings. I’m vaguely aware that I’m screaming things that are