Read Online The Hipster Who Leapt Through Time (The Hipster Trilogy Book 2) by Luke Kondor - Free Book Online Page A

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Ian Foster

    THERE WAS A PERSON, NO, a child. With chocolate brown curls on his head and sweet caramel skin. With a smile that could win over the stoniest of hearts. The demeanour of polite all over his blue cotton school jumper and ashen short trousers that end above his unspoiled kneecaps.  
    He was the kind of kid who would do his homework before leaving school. The kind of child who’d ask the teacher for more work to do afterwards. When the rest of the class had their hands resting on the tops of their bags, ready for the bell to ring to make their escape, he would wait behind. He couldn’t leave without asking the teacher a few more questions. How exactly do plants convert light into energy? Why does metal expand when heated? Why does the Earth rotate?  
    He was a smart kid. Most teachers would consider him a blessing.
    To Ian Foster, the child’s science teacher, he was a pain in the arse.  
    It wasn’t an ordinary school to begin with. It was an all-boys private school for the gifted. Only a special breed of child was allowed in this school. A child like Darpal. But Darpal was more than special. And it all became apparent in that one class. The last one of the day. The final stretch before the home-time bell.
    The sun beat through the windows onto the students’ backs and into Ian’s thick lensed glasses. All around him was warm and sticky, and the floral fabric beneath his armpits was damp and translucent.  
    He’d been there, teaching that class, for five years. Forever waiting, watching. They didn’t just let any old teacher in there either. This was an IPC-funded school. When Ian took the job he was briefed on what to look for, and after monotonous class after monotonous class, it finally happened.
    Ian, who admittedly looked like a bearded egg propped on top of a bag of sand, asked the class “Who can recite Pi to five decimal places?”  
    Of course Darpal’s hand shot upwards. He instantly reeled off the decimal places of Pi like he was reciting his Christmas wish-list.  
    “Three point one four one five nine,” he said, beaming.
    “Okay Darpal, okay,” Ian said, waving him down.
    “Two six five three,” he continued. “Five … five … five.”
    The children sitting behind Darpal moaned and Ian was about to join them when Darpal’s eyes rolled backwards towards his skull and the numbers went wrong.
    “One zero zero one one zero one zero one one.” As Darpal spoke he shook in his seat. The bottom of his stool vibrated against the floor. White foam fell from his mouth. The moaning children from behind him sat up and screamed as the numbers continued to fall from Darpal’s mouth.
    “One zero one one zero one one one.”
    “Sir, what do we do?” one of the boys shouted.
    “Erm …” Ian watched for a second, unsure what was happening. “Well …”  
    “Sir!”
    “Right yes, okay, well, he’s having a seizure so just … “
    “One zero one one zerooo one zerooo.” Darpal stopped shaking and dropped to the floor like a lump of meat.
    Ian rushed over to him and asked if he was okay?  
    Darpal replied with murmurs as he writhed on the floor. His pupils were fully dilated and his eyes never settled.
    “Sir, should I call his parents?” the little shit Jason Brant said.  
    “No Jason, it’ll be all right,” Ian said, remembering that Darpal