Free Evil Genius by Catherine Jinks Page B

other," Caitlin declared.
    "Except for the pop eyes," Seth mused. "And the pudgy hands. And the moon face."
    "I'm not saying they
look
alike," said Rhiannon. "I'm saying they
act
alike. They sort of creep around like cockroaches—"
    "You think Cadel Piggott's a
killer?
" Seth demanded in melodramatic tones.
    "Who knows?" said Rhiannon. "I wouldn't put it past him. He's bound to be an underwear stealer."
    "An underwear
sniffer!
" Seth yelped.
    "Oh, for sure." Rhiannon laughed. "You can see the skid marks under his nose!"
    Cadel got up and closed his book. He left the library. From that day on, his admiration for Rhiannon turned into acute dislike. He had overheard other twelfth-grade students joking about his personal life but had never considered Rhiannon capable of jumping on that bandwagon. It made him very bitter.
    He became disillusioned with Ayesha shortly afterward. Rhiannon and Seth were an item, he knew, but Ayesha didn't appear to have a boyfriend. Although she enjoyed the company of Chris and Bruno, she didn't seem to be going out with either. Bruno was a handsome smartass who played in a band. Chris was a stringy-looking hippy with a gentle soul and no critical abilities to speak of. He played acoustic guitar.
    In Cadel's opinion, Ayesha stood head and shoulders above both these boys. What's more, she scoffed at "traditional" attitudes toward mating and dating. So when plans were announced for the end-of-year formal, which was still several months away, it crossed his mind that this might be his opportunity to connect with Ayesha. If she had a problem with all the tired, conservative "pairing-up" that went on at a school dance, she might actually consider going to the formal with him. As a kind of statement.
    "No thanks, Cadel," she said, when approached. "I don't think so."
    "Are you going with someone else?"
    "I haven't decided."
    "Then, why not me?"
    They were standing near a lilac bush, and there were tiny mauve petals sliding down Ayesha's hair. They looked so pretty—
she
looked so pretty—that Cadel had found the courage to speak out. "It would be a non-ageist decision, don't you think?" he pressed. "And we could do it in style."
    "Style isn't my style," Ayesha pointed out.
    "No. That's true." Cadel ticked a mental box. Of course, Ayesha wasn't a limousine sort of person. "All right, then. No limousine. But you have to admit I've got more up here"—he tapped his head—"than most of the kids at this school combined. So why won't you take a chance? Since you like to be different."
    Ayesha gave an exasperated sigh. She shifted her books from one arm to the other and tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear.
    "You see, that's exactly why I don't want to go with you," she said. "I mean, you're so damned smug. 'I'm rich, I'm smart, I'm pretty, I've got the lowdown on everyone.' You sit there looking superior—can't even be bothered talking to people—"
    "But—"
    "You might think you know everything about everything, Cadel, but you don't know a thing about yourself. If you weren't so snotty, I'd feel sorry for you, I really would. Coming up to me like you're doing me a favor..." She shook her head. "And if you really
are
gay, like everyone says, then it's even sadder. Be honest with yourself. Take a look at yourself. Don't be pathetic."
    Cadel flushed. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly angry—so angry that he couldn't even speak. Ayesha must have seen the tears of rage that sprang to his eyes, because she seemed to relent, a little.
    "I'm sorry," she said, "but I had to be honest. It's best to be honest. You've got a lot going for you, Cadel, if you'd just realize that you're not as wonderful as you think you are."
    And she walked away. For once in his life, Cadel couldn't cope. He actually skipped half a day of school. Though it was only recess, he went straight home and lay down, his mind turning and churning. He told the housekeeper (he no longer had a nanny) that he was suffering from a stomach