The Class Project. Besides being obsessed with beating up people who were smaller than him, Mason had a thing for this goofy school project that was sponsored by some hospital or something. Students learned about it in Chemistry, then were allowed to continue the work outside of class for extra credit if they wanted to. And Mason had launched a personal crusade to make sure they wanted to. “I heard you tell him he doesn’t know what he’s making. So…what’s he making?”
“I’m not positive.” Bobby folded his arms. “Mason thinks the Class Project is supposed to help the mentally ill. But if my research is right, the compound made in our lab can be altered in a more advanced lab—” He slowly shook his head. “If Tammy Angel is telling the truth…”
“Such a brilliant mind! Well, let’s not be late for assembly, Rin.” Kathryn took me by the hand and led me away like a puppy. “See you in Math Club, Bobby.”
We walked toward the auditorium, Kathryn grinning blankly at the tile floor like she had left her brain in her locker.
“Kitty?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “And when did this happen?”
Kathryn giggled. “When Bobby joined Math Club.”
“Kathryn, you’ve been in Math Club together since it was invented.”
“But I never really talked to him until recently. He sort of avoided me.”
“Probably didn’t think he was your type. You know your dating history.”
Kathryn got the oddest look on her face. “What are you talking about, my history?”
Like I said, Kathryn was completely oblivious to her own popularity. “Student body president. Track captain. Football captain. Debate Team captain.” I ticked each guy she’s ever dated off my fingers. “Every awesome boy in the school wants to be with you. No wonder Bobby avoided you.”
“But Bobby is so not like them.”
“Exactly. You are gunning for a complete dweeb this time, Kathryn. Shows character. I’m proud of you.”
“I do not gun. Those boys asked me out. I don’t even know why.”
“I do. You have cleavage.”
Kathryn backhanded my shoulder. “Bobby is real, Rin. He’s deep. He gets me for who I am. Problem is, I think the attraction is purely intellectual. We have such amazing discussions, but they’re all about logic and math and philosophy.”
“He calls you Kitty. Nobody who has an intellectual attraction would call you Kitty.”
“Bobby says I’m a woman of great poise, elegance, and wit, like Kitty Carlisle.”
“Who’s that?”
“A woman of great poise, elegance, and wit, obviously. I don’t know, some actress from the Thirties. Maybe you can help me, Rin. How can I get him to notice me?”
“You could always try stalking him.”
Kathryn bit her lower lip and nodded. “Has potential.”
Chapter Three
A Warning
The school’s auditorium was actually very cool. Designed to seat seven hundred kids, it resembled a Greek amphitheater. Hand-carved faces of people too beautiful to have ever been real decorated the ceiling like an ancient work of Michelangelo. Murals with exotic species of trees and flowering vines covered the walls. The balcony, with its gorgeous red velvet seats, had a perfect view of the stage and the audience below. Unfortunately, it was permanently reserved for the Excessively Cool. Plebeians like me got to sit in the peasant section at ground level, which would also have been gorgeous if it weren’t plastered with spit wads and other glop whose origin I preferred not to know.
Principal Ophia Bagley paced the stage like a hungry tiger in its cage. The teachers were positioned strategically across the auditorium, two in the front row, the rest scattered along the outside aisles, attempting to give the illusion they were in control. I noticed they also had easy access to the exits in case trouble broke out.
Trouble, as usual, sat up in the balcony—Mason and his posse, three girls who called themselves the Red Team. They loved the balcony, because it made those of us who sat below them easy marks for their chewing gum missiles that, once embedded, had to be surgically removed from our hair.
My seat was as comfortable as a dentist’s chair, but it was near the front, where I would be a more difficult target. The downside to that strategy was my proximity to the stage. It would be hard to ignore the boring speech Mrs. Bagley delivered weekly. I was closer yet to Dr. Captious, my arrogant Algebra teacher. He sat smugly in the first row next to Dr. Miliron, the head of the Class Project.
“Awesomeness at three o’clock,” Kathryn whispered.
I looked to my right as Egon took the seat next to me. Instantly, all neural functions ceased. I gripped Kathryn’s wrist, trying not to squeal.
“Easy, girl,” she said.
“So,” Egon whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine, “looks like this is the only class we have together.”
Under ordinary circumstances, I would have gotten it. Egon was being cute. The proper response would have been to make a joke about this being my favorite course, or the homework being tolerable. Instead, all my flummoxed mind could conjure was, “I know, right?”
Kathryn patted my arm. “Deep breaths, Rin. Deep breaths.”
As the principal tapped the microphone, Egon chuckled and said, “Here comes yet another enthralling show.”