Read Code for Free Online Page B

service. Not a bad deal.
    If we fit in. Which we didn’t.
    Most Bolton students were scions of the city’s wealthiest families. My crew stuck out like hookers at church. We weren’t part of their pampered, privileged world, and many of our classmates were quick to remind us of that fact. Taunting the “boat kids” was practically a varsity sport.
    Thankfully, this year Shelton, Hi, and I had identical schedules, and Ben was in half our classes. We’d be able to watch each other’s backs.
    For a group of science geeks, Bolton was a minefield of potential disasters. Double that for me, since I was also the youngest in my class. Impressed by my lower-school brilliance, Mom had decided I should skip the sixth grade. Fast-forward four long years—I was Bolton’s only fourteen-year-old sophomore.
    The mocking had started from day one. And when my classmates discovered that “the little girl” was actually setting the academic bar, the sniping grew even nastier.
    Freshman year had been rough. I’d hated it.
    But lately, things were . . . different.
    My first year, other students had openly sneered at me. Whispered behind their hands. Called me “loser,” or “island refugee,” even “peasant.” High school bullies can be brutal, and I’d caught both barrels.
    The constant ridicule had forced me to step lightly. Drop my guard, even for a nanosecond, and the local Mean Girls would pounce to “put me in my place.”
    But that was all before the summer.
    Before I’d finally had enough, and decided to fight back.
    Before I’d lost my cool.
    As if cued by my thoughts, my nemeses appeared two doors down.
    Madison Dunkle sauntered into the hall, flanked by her sycophant floozies. She practically glowed with well-groomed excess, from sculpted hair—brunette this semester, with smoky blonde tendrils—to stylish, five-figure jewelry.
    Courtney Holt was on her left. Blonde, blue-eyed, and curvy, she radiated a cluelessness that was impossible to emulate. She’d been chosen as the captain of the cheerleader squad. I was amazed she’d avoided flunking out.
    On Madison’s opposite side strolled Ashley Bodford, a pit viper in her own right. Night to Courtney’s day, Ashley had glossy black hair, mechanically tanned skin, and a cruel streak a mile long. Her favorite activity was preying on the insecurities of others with cutting, whispered digs.
    The Tripod of Skank.
    They hated me. I
loathed
them.
    Last semester, the sight of these three would’ve filled me with dread. They’d made my freshman year a living hell.
    That was over now.
    Last August, at a cotillion event, I’d unloaded on the Tripod with all of Bolton’s in-crowd watching. Flaring, I’d used my hypersenses to read their emotions. Sniff out their weaknesses. Then I’d struck without mercy.
    Shocked speechless, the Tripod had retreated in angry tears.
    The tell-off had been
epic.
    Since that outburst, the other “cool kids” had been slightly more respectful to me. Almost polite. Not out-and-out friendly or anything, but the open hostility was gone.
    High school popularity is so fickle.
    My classmates suddenly liked me more because I’d shown teeth. Because I’d savaged a few of their own. I could scream at the childishness of it all.
    That day, I’d finally bested the Tripod. But then I made a mistake.
    Unleashing the wolf had gotten my blood pumping. Flaring seemed to exacerbate my aggressive nature. Caught up in the rush, I’d done something incredibly foolish. Disastrous. I’d lifted my sunglasses and flashed my glowing eyes.
    Courtney and Ashley had missed it, but Maddy had enjoyed a front-row seat. Terrified, she’d bolted. And had avoided me ever since.
    Normally, I’d call that a win-win. The Tripod had fled and continued to stay away. The relentless harassment had stopped.
    But I worried. What did Madison suspect? Who would she talk to?
    If word of our powers got out, we’d be government lab rats by lunch the next day.
    Thanks to my