Dragons vs. Drones Read Free Page A

useless with girls. Brian usually got hives whenever he was near a girl, and Marcus never got close enough to any to find out how he’d react.
    Their high-strung math teacher, Mrs. Saunders, was droning on in the background about multiplication tables, while Marcus lazily stared out the window, barely hearing a thing. He knew all that stuff anyway: Math and science were definitely his strong suits. He was a three-time winner of the State Physics Bowl and had won the Math Bowl twice. In the last Physics Bowl, he had presented a quantifiable theory to explain the spatial distortions in a wormhole—the second- place participant had built an electric conductor. Needless to say, it was a short deliberation. Most of the judges didn’t even fully comprehend Marcus’s theory—they just knew that it was well beyond anything they understood. He got a ribbon.
    Too bad that didn’t impress girls. If Marcus could catch a football, maybe they would talk to him. But considering he had string bean arms and the general athleticism of an armchair, he doubted that was going to happen anytime soon. Not that it mattered.
    He had more important things to worry about.
    Marcus gazed out the window at the ominous tide of storm clouds approaching on the horizon, bubbling and bursting with electrostatic power as they swept across the sky. The October air was warm and muggy, even in the air-conditioned classroom, and he knew that they would probably get a heavy shower in the next hour or two.
    But will it actually be a full thunderstorm? Will it happen again?
    Today was the first of the month . . . the end of the line. If
it
happened, he would finally know.
    Marcus fiddled with the old watch on his wrist, the faded gold polish revealing dark chrome beneath. It didn’t even work—it hadn’t in almost five years. But Marcus still wore it every day as a reminder. He stared at it thoughtfully, wondering as always why his father had left it behind. He’d only ever taken it off once in Marcus’s entire life.
    The night he left.
    Marcus was just turning back to the front of the class when he accidentally met eyes with Lori Tarmen, a quiet brunette whose style fell somewhere between emo and hipster, and who had been in Marcus’s class every year since he’d gotten to his new school. Her eyes were big and dark and framed with the longest eyelashes he had ever seen, and Marcus felt himself flush with embarrassment. He quickly turned away again.
    But when Marcus snuck another glance a minute later, she was wearing a wry smile, keeping her eyes locked on the board. Marcus wondered if Lori knew about his dad—about the yearlong investigation and the allegations and the label that Marcus was stuck with for life: a traitor’s son.
    His arms started to prickle, the hairs rising, and he felt an intense heat pressing on his skin from the inside out. He knew he needed to calm down . . . and fast. But the anger and resentment were always there, waiting to erupt.
Traitor. Deserter.
    They were all liars.
    â€œShe definitely has a thing for you,” Brian whispered.
    Marcus rolled his eyes. “How did you even see that?”
    â€œI see everything.”
    Mrs. Saunders glanced back from the chalkboard, and they both fell silent just long enough for her to return to her notes. Three people were actually copying them.
    â€œI’m sure she’s just being nice,” Marcus said.
    He doubted any girl would have a crush on him—especially a girl as pretty as Lori. Girls liked football players and musicians and rebels, not gangly science geeks. And even if she did like him, Marcus could never talk to her anyway. Just the thought of talking to a girl made his stomach tighten. Better to avoid the humiliation.
    Brian snorted. “Because you’re so good at reading women.”
    â€œI read them fine,” he replied quietly.
    â€œYou’re a quitter.”
    â€œAnd a