Truancy Origins Read Free Page B

calmly pulled Umasi up, dusting his brother’s clothes off in the process.
    â€œSo, how’re you doing?” Zen inquired as Umasi wiped his eyes and face with his sleeve.
    â€œI’m—”
    â€œMinor scratches to the face, dirt everywhere, maybe some slight bruising if you’re unlucky, and, judging by how you keep clutching them like that, some sore ribs,” Zen observed, handing Umasi his glasses. “All things considered, you’re fine, and lucky. Those fools back there don’t have the guts or the ability to do anyone serious damage.”
    â€œDid . . . did you do
them
any serious damage?” Umasi asked tentatively as he slid his glasses on to look over Zen’s shoulder at the three motionless boys.
    â€œNothing that a trip to the school nurse can’t cure,” Zen replied. “One of them has a bloody nose, and that’s probably the worst of it. I do imagine that their egos have taken a blow, however.”
    â€œAren’t you worried that they might tell on you?”
    â€œThey might,” Zen said. “Not that I would particularly care. But frankly, I doubt that they would.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    Zen cocked his head and grinned at Umasi. It wasn’t a pleasant grin, but rather one that managed to be both vicious and cheerful at the same time.
    â€œIf you were in their position, would
you
want anyone else to know what happened here?”
    â€œNo, definitely not,” Umasi admitted.
    â€œGood. Now here, hurry up and wash off your face. I’ve got some water with me—it’s much more useful than that lemonade you’re always drinking.” Zen drew a bottle out of his jacket and thrust it into Umasi’s arms.
    â€œWhy the rush?” Umasi inquired as he rinsed off his face and wiped it again with his sleeve.
    â€œBecause it’s almost time for biology class,” Zen replied. “Why do you think I came looking for you?”
    Umasi froze, then turned to stare at Zen.
    â€œWe’re not late, are we?” Umasi asked.
    â€œAs of now, I doubt it,” Zen answered. “But if the clock I saw on my way here was accurate, we probably don’t have much more than three minutes left.”
    â€œWe’ll never make it,” Umasi groaned. “Help me get my stuff together.”
    Umasi dived to retrieve his textbook as Zen picked up the binder andunceremoniously shoved its contents back into place. The two brothers briskly returned the items to Umasi’s backpack, which was still lying on the bench where Umasi had been seated. As Umasi zipped up his backpack and clumsily fitted his arms through the straps, Zen walked over to his own backpack, seized it by one strap, tossed it into the air, and slid his arm through a strap as it came down.
    â€œWhat about them?” Umasi asked, gesturing towards the fallen thugs, who were only now beginning to stir.
    â€œI’m sure that they’ll be able to come up with some interesting excuses when their teachers ask them why they’re late,” Zen said. “But I doubt that you’re in a similarly inventive mood, so perhaps we should hurry up.”
    Umasi did not object to this reasoning, and followed Zen at a run towards the subdued brown school doors. The school building itself was made out of reddish bricks, and seemed to have been literally styled after a prison. The few windows of the school were tiny, rectangular panes cut infrequently into the sheer brick face. The building’s sole concession to flashiness was right above the plain main doors of the school—the number one, wrought of some kind of shiny metal, with a sign beneath it declaring proudly that the building housed the school of District 1.
    As they ran through the massive courtyard, Umasi noticed that area was already mostly empty, with only a few students still running for the doors as Zen and himself were. Umasi briefly wondered how he hadn’t