Free The Green Glass Sea by Ellen Klages

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    â€œIt’s the Hill, ” said Dewey. “What can you tell?”
    The boys laughed. “You wanna stop and get Cokes at the PX?” Jack straddled his bike, but gave up on riding it after a few wobbly feet and began to walk it out toward the road.
    Dewey picked up the handle of her wagon and followed him. “The Tech PX?”
    â€œNah, ” said Charlie, walking his own bike. “Too far. The Trading Post over by the Lodge. It’s right on the way. ”

THE MOTOR POOL
    SUZE AND THE other girls walked slowly along the curving road, green-painted wooden buildings scattered on each side, some so new their nails were still shiny. The air smelled like sawdust and pine resin. Off to the south they could hear the pounding of hammers and the whine of motors. New people moved to the Hill almost every week, and the army was busy building more apartments and bigger labs.
    The Hill was a funny place, separate from the outside world, filtered through the army. Suze missed the colors of the neon and the painted signs that had decorated the streets of Berkeley. She missed the comings and goings of a real city—streetcars, milkmen and ice-cream trucks, newsboys and unfamiliar faces. The Hill was always the same, day after day.
    They stepped to the side to allow a trio of army trucks to lumber through, lumpy green tarps obscuring the cargo underneath, and waited until the dust settled before continuing on.
    â€œWhich do you think is worse, dust or mud?” asked Joyce.
    â€œDust, ” said Barbara.
    â€œMud, ” said Betty at the same time. “It never comes all the way off your shoes, and my mother yelled all winter about her kitchen floor. ”
    â€œYeah, but dust goes every where, ” said Suze. “In your eyes, up your nose—” She sneezed very dramatically and was pleased that the other girls laughed.
    Just before they got to the post office, there was a loud boom. They all stopped for a minute, and looked off to the south, toward S-Site, to see if there would be smoke this time. Some explosions were bigger than others. A few made booms loud enough to rattle the glass in the buildings’ windows. But this one was just ordinary.
    â€œThat wasn’t much, ” said Joyce. “Let’s go. ”
    But Betty stood still, her mouth open. “Look, ” she said, pointing.
    Suze followed Betty’s finger. Two boys were walking their bikes on either side of a small figure with a red wagon. They had just come around the corner of the post office, and were heading their way.
    â€œOh great, ” said Joyce, groaning. “It’s Screwy Dewey and her little red wagon. ”
    Dewey Kerrigan was the weirdest girl Suze had ever met. It wasn’t just that she was smart and wore glasses. Lots of kids on the Hill, Suze included, had been the smartest kids in their old schools. But Dewey didn’t play with the other kids. She spent every recess at one of the picnic tables next to the playground, fiddling with her stupid radio, or some broken garbage with wires and springs, taking notes about it, like it was homework.
    â€œBut why’s she with Charlie?” asked Betty, frowning. She said Charlie’s name in what Suze thought of as her girly-girly voice. She’d had a crush on Jack’s brother all summer. Suze rolled her eyes.
    â€œShe’s not with them, ” Joyce said. “They’re just walking on the same road. Why would they be hanging around with that four-eyed gimp?”
    Barbara nodded. “If I had to wear that ugly shoe, I’d never leave my house. ”
    Suze didn’t know what was wrong with Dewey’s leg. She always wore one normal shoe and one brown shoe that laced up the side and had a thick rubber sole, which meant she couldn’t run for beans. That was probably why she never played Red Rover or anything. She wouldn’t be any good at all.
    The boys stopped about ten feet away, and it