Deadly Design (9780698173613) Read Free Page A

in the games. Interested in me.
    She noticed me.
    When Mom and Connor came back into the living room, Emma got up, and I thought that was it. Once the great Connor was back, I disappeared again. But as they were walking out the front door, Emma turned and smiled at me. That was four years ago, and she’s still giving me that smile.

3
    â€œG uess what I heard.”
    It’s the voice of Teddy Eskew. As if spending the day sitting amongst Connor’s adoring fans isn’t bad enough, now I have to put up with the school’s biggest asshole.
    â€œI heard you and your brother were Siamese twins, joined at the dick, and when the doctors separated you, they decided to give what there was to your brother. That’s why you have to piss sitting down.”
    Teddy doesn’t ride the short bus to school, but he can’t get it through his head that Connor and I are twins, born two years apart. Somehow he got the idea that I’m a sophomore while Connor’s a senior because I had the cord wrapped around my neck. Lack of oxygen made me delayed. Teddy’s a senior, and he and I are in two classes together. He’s the one who’s delayed. He’s also the one on probation for vandalism, underage drinking, exposing himself to a minor, and attempting to grow facial hair like Wolverine from X-Men.
    â€œYou made any summer plans yet?” I ask as I push past him, balancing two hot dogs and a can of Diet Coke in my hands. “I heard there are lots of unsupervised kiddies at the water park if you want to show off your . . .” I lift the hot dogs.
    Teddy’s hair-framed face reddens. His biceps flex.
    â€œIs there a problem?”
    Officer Prater, our school’s resource officer, is standing right behind Teddy. He’s not wearing his uniform or his Taser, but at six and a half feet tall and three hundred pounds, he doesn’t really need them to be intimidating.
    Teddy walks away, but not before giving me that “I’ll find you later” look.
    â€œI really hate that this is Connor’s last meet,” Prater says, running a hand over his shaven head. “I’ve been watching him since middle school.”
    I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking that even though Connor is graduating next week, he should be able to come watch me compete in football and basketball and track. But I’m too much of a slacker. I’m too lazy to be all that I can be.
    â€œHe’s got a good chance of breaking his record, and I bet it stands a long time too.” Prater looks off at the cloudless May sky like he’s savoring this moment—the moment before Connor McAdams cements his place in the history of high school pole-vaulting. He smiles to himself, and when his eyes fall back on me, it’s like he’s about to reprimand me for hanging out in the hallway instead of being in class. “You better get up there. There’s only one more competitor before Connor. You don’t want to miss this.”
    â€œOh”—I shake my head—“you have no idea how much I don’t want miss this.”
    I push my way through the crowd, and the hot dogs I was craving a second ago have lost some of their appeal.
    I don’t want to be here!
    But over breakfast this morning, Mom kept opening her mouth as if to say something, then closing it again and starting to rinse dishes or wipe counters. Dad, on the other hand, came into the kitchen, fixed a bowl of cereal, and said what he wanted to say.
    â€œDon’t come if you don’t want to.” His mouth was full of cornflakes, and there was a tiny dot of milk on his chin. “Your mom and I understand that watching your brother compete may not be . . .” He couldn’t quite find the words, so he shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth to buy some time. “It’s just that this is his last meet. He wants us there, all of us. You mean a lot to