Wayward Son (Simon Snow, #2)(21)

“Should I think about what it is you want from me?”

“Ginger, you know what I want from you. I want to go to Burning Lad with you. I want to hang out at your apartment and watch shitty TV.”

“We’ll still be able to do that after I level up!”

“Oh, I’m sure. Hanging out with me will definitely lead humanity forward.”

Ginger is propping herself up on an elbow to look at me. “Are you jealous? Is that what this is? Agatha, you know I want to bring you with me.”

“Hmmm,” I say flatly.

“And I’m not the only one. You made quite an impression on Braden tonight.”

“Despite my best efforts.”

“I’m serious. He says you have a ‘singular energy.’”

“Ginger, that just means ‘blond.’”

“It’s more than that. He’s going to invite you to his office tomorrow.”

“I never go to a man’s office on the first date.”

“Agatha!” Ginger is sitting up now. “I’m being serious. This could be so good for you. Braden has a huge destiny—his aura is golden.”

“Can you see it?”

“You know that I feel them.…”

“You said my aura was gold.”

“Yours is more like ginger ale. It has bubbles in it.”

“Hmmm.” I roll away from her.

“You should give him a chance. Even if he is just hitting on you. He’s, like, iconic. He’s vacationed with the Obamas. He’s got an Hermès bag named after him. Imagine dating a legend.”

That’s the trouble.

I don’t have to.



* * *



Braden finds me at the cupcake table.

I should have expected this, I suppose.

I bailed on today’s NowNext programming. I tried to go to a seminar on genetically engineered grain, but I couldn’t tell if the speaker was for or against it, and anyway, I was exhausted. I can’t sleep in an unlocked room. Not since fourth year, when the Humdrum sent a harmadillo into our dormitory. (Harmadillos don’t even live in the UK; Penny got very fired up about it being an invasive species. “Well, its invading days are over,” Simon said, disposing of the corpse.) “Hi,” Braden says. He’s wearing khaki trousers and a navy jacket. It looks like a school uniform. He is cute, isn’t he. In a blandly symmetrical, perfectly groomed, very, very wealthy way.

“Hello,” I say.

“I told you there’d be cupcakes.”

“I think I told you.…” I pick out a pink one.

He grins at me. “Agatha—”

“I did not tell you my name.…”

“Ginger told me,” he says, looking caught out but not a bit ashamed. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk today.”

I try to cut this off before it becomes a scene: “Look, Ginger told me that you think I have some sort of special energy. But I know that’s all bullshit. So maybe you could not try that line on me, okay? Just spare me.”

Braden’s eyes are bright. “It isn’t a line. You are special.”

I snort, but continue taking a bite of cupcake. “Literally everyone in your club is some sort of nerd-bro supreme. I just met two guys who have been to space. Actual space. Do you think I’ve somehow missed the fact that most of the men here are people like you and Josh? And that most of the women, few as we are, are like Ginger and me? I’m not fooled. I know what’s ‘special’ about us.”

“Your friend Ginger is incredibly special,” he says. “I’m surprised you don’t see that.”

“No, I do see it. That’s not—”

“Do you know she can see auras?”

“It’s more like she feels them,” I mutter.

“She read my palm. It was extraordinary. She said my lifeline is completely unbroken.”

“No, I know.” I don’t know how I ended up arguing that Ginger isn’t special. That wasn’t my point.

“And she’s the most organically activated person I’ve ever met.”

“I know!” It comes out too loud. “Ginger’s like nobody else. She’s my best friend.”

Braden is smiling at me again. “You’re right,” he says, “this is sort of a boys’ club. But we’re trying to change that.”

“I don’t actually care. I don’t even know why we’re arguing about this.”

He steps closer to me. We’re about the same height. That bothers some boys, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Because you don’t believe I see something rare in you,” he says. “You think that I’m interested in you because you’re beautiful. And you’re right—I am, you are. But beauty is cheap, Agatha. Cheap and bountiful. In my position, beauty is a faucet that never stops running.…”

His eyes are locked on mine. I finish eating the cupcake, because it seems like the best way to show I’m not bothered, but my mouth has gone dry.

“There’s something about you,” he says.

I wipe my hands on a cloth napkin.

“Can I give you a tour of the grounds?”