Read Online Storm (Swipe Series) by Evan Angler - Free Book Online
Authors: Evan Angler
Tags: english eBooks
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average, with Connor at a 100 percent, and Steve and Sally tied at 98.
But it wasn’t just that the three of them were the smartest kids at Lahoma High. It was that their teachers loved them.
Why, just a couple of months ago, the day before winter break and the start of the Inclusion Day festivities, it was Connor who flailed his hand wildly in his seat at the front of the class. And it was Connor who reminded his teacher that so far, she had forgotten to give her class any homework assignments over break.
Steve and Sally were relieved when he said it. They’d been thinking the same thing all afternoon, and Steve had started to fidget with guilt. That was just the kind of students they were.
“Well, anyway, the boardwalk is now Marked territory,” Steve said, dragging his own avatar across the tablescreen and trying feebly to lighten the mood. “Better pay up if either o’ you land on it.”
This was the closest thing to trash talk that ever went down in the Goodmans’ gray-carpeted basement. But Sally still wasn’t having it.
“So what’s your big General’s trophy doing hidden away down here?” she said, pointing to the corner and stubbornly pressing forward with her Connor Goody Two-Shoes line of attack. “I mean, what gives? If I had that thing, I’d sleep with it under my pillow.”
Connor laughed sheepishly. “Well, it’s really not that big a deal,” he said.
But the truth, of course, was that it was a big deal. The truth was that Connor’s General’s Award was a very big deal, indeed.
It should be no surprise, perhaps, that a kid nicknamed Connor Goody Two-Shoes would be a model citizen, famous all across his modest Lahoma town. President of the Lahoma student body, captain of the baseball team, first chair tablet in the Lahoma Electronic Orchestra, and in both of the last two years since he’d become eligible, recipient of the Town Hall Award for Most Distinguished Marked Community Service. Connor was even known for his volunteer work over at the Markless huddles just outside of town, back before all those misers for some reason decided to forfeit any leniency and started causing trouble this past fall.
It didn’t matter that Lahoma itself was a small, sleepy stretch of streets, too far out in the middle of the American State to beconsidered even a suburb of any of the three urban centers. It didn’t matter that it was only just slightly too big to be considered a ghost town. And it didn’t matter that in the last few months, everything in this measly place had begun to fall apart. The fact was, within his small pond, Connor Goody Two-Shoes was growing up to be a very big fish.
But still none of that had prepared Lahoma for the honor bestowed upon it last September, when the general-in-chief of the then-American Union (now American State, one half of the great G.U.) arrived himself to recognize how truly superlative Connor was by awarding him the first-ever General’s Award for Marked Excellence, Promise, and the American Dream.
“That award was supposed to make you a hero ,” Sally said sarcastically. “And you think it’s ‘not that big a deal’? There are kids in this town who’d give anything just to hold it.”
Connor didn’t turn away from the game board. There was something very much the matter with Sally, that was clear, but it was no excuse for her to take whatever it was out on him. “You know what, Sally? You want it? Go ahead—it’s yours. Take it home with you, if you’d like. I’d just as soon never see the cheap thing again.” Just talking about it—even in the privacy of his own basement and in the company of his closest friends—made Connor blush with a horrible guilt.
“Well, it’s anything but cheap,” Sally piled on. She was mad. And she loved the sudden sense that she was making Connor madder. “The whole thing’s made of platinum. Marked money can’t even buy something as nice as that trophy.”
“Your move,” Connor said
But it wasn’t just that the three of them were the smartest kids at Lahoma High. It was that their teachers loved them.
Why, just a couple of months ago, the day before winter break and the start of the Inclusion Day festivities, it was Connor who flailed his hand wildly in his seat at the front of the class. And it was Connor who reminded his teacher that so far, she had forgotten to give her class any homework assignments over break.
Steve and Sally were relieved when he said it. They’d been thinking the same thing all afternoon, and Steve had started to fidget with guilt. That was just the kind of students they were.
“Well, anyway, the boardwalk is now Marked territory,” Steve said, dragging his own avatar across the tablescreen and trying feebly to lighten the mood. “Better pay up if either o’ you land on it.”
This was the closest thing to trash talk that ever went down in the Goodmans’ gray-carpeted basement. But Sally still wasn’t having it.
“So what’s your big General’s trophy doing hidden away down here?” she said, pointing to the corner and stubbornly pressing forward with her Connor Goody Two-Shoes line of attack. “I mean, what gives? If I had that thing, I’d sleep with it under my pillow.”
Connor laughed sheepishly. “Well, it’s really not that big a deal,” he said.
But the truth, of course, was that it was a big deal. The truth was that Connor’s General’s Award was a very big deal, indeed.
It should be no surprise, perhaps, that a kid nicknamed Connor Goody Two-Shoes would be a model citizen, famous all across his modest Lahoma town. President of the Lahoma student body, captain of the baseball team, first chair tablet in the Lahoma Electronic Orchestra, and in both of the last two years since he’d become eligible, recipient of the Town Hall Award for Most Distinguished Marked Community Service. Connor was even known for his volunteer work over at the Markless huddles just outside of town, back before all those misers for some reason decided to forfeit any leniency and started causing trouble this past fall.
It didn’t matter that Lahoma itself was a small, sleepy stretch of streets, too far out in the middle of the American State to beconsidered even a suburb of any of the three urban centers. It didn’t matter that it was only just slightly too big to be considered a ghost town. And it didn’t matter that in the last few months, everything in this measly place had begun to fall apart. The fact was, within his small pond, Connor Goody Two-Shoes was growing up to be a very big fish.
But still none of that had prepared Lahoma for the honor bestowed upon it last September, when the general-in-chief of the then-American Union (now American State, one half of the great G.U.) arrived himself to recognize how truly superlative Connor was by awarding him the first-ever General’s Award for Marked Excellence, Promise, and the American Dream.
“That award was supposed to make you a hero ,” Sally said sarcastically. “And you think it’s ‘not that big a deal’? There are kids in this town who’d give anything just to hold it.”
Connor didn’t turn away from the game board. There was something very much the matter with Sally, that was clear, but it was no excuse for her to take whatever it was out on him. “You know what, Sally? You want it? Go ahead—it’s yours. Take it home with you, if you’d like. I’d just as soon never see the cheap thing again.” Just talking about it—even in the privacy of his own basement and in the company of his closest friends—made Connor blush with a horrible guilt.
“Well, it’s anything but cheap,” Sally piled on. She was mad. And she loved the sudden sense that she was making Connor madder. “The whole thing’s made of platinum. Marked money can’t even buy something as nice as that trophy.”
“Your move,” Connor said
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