Midnighters #1
The Secret Hour
By Scott Westerfeld
Rebound by Sagebrush
Copyright © 2005
Scott Westerfeld
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781417701018
Chapter One
8:11 a.m.
Rex
The halls of Bixby High School were always hideously bright on
the first day of school. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead,
their white honeycombed plastic shields newly cleaned of dead
insect shapes. The freshly shined floors dazzled, glinting in
the hard September sunlight that streamed in through the
school's open front doors.
Rex Greene walked slowly, wondering how the students jostling
past him could run into this place. His every step was a
struggle, a fight against the grating radiance of Bixby High,
against being trapped here for another year. For Rex summer
vacation was a place to hide, and every year this day gave him
the sinking feeling of having just been discovered, caught,
pinned, like an escaping prisoner in a searchlight.
Rex squinted in the brightness and pushed up his glasses with
one finger, wishing he could wear dark shades over their thick
frames. One more layer between him and Bixby High School.
The same faces were all here. Timmy Hudson, who had beaten him
up just about every day in fifth grade, passed by, not giving
Rex a second glance. The surging crowd was full of old
tormentors and classmates and childhood friends, but no one
seemed to recognize him anymore. Rex pulled his long black
coat around himself and clung to the row of lockers along the
wall, waiting for the crowd to clear, wondering exactly when
he had become invisible. And why. Maybe it was because the
daylight world meant so little to him now.
He put his head down and edged toward class.
Then he saw the new girl.
She was his age, maybe a year younger. Her hair was deep red,
and she was carrying a green book bag over one shoulder. Rex
had never seen her before, and in a school as small as Bixby
High, that was unusual enough. But novelty wasn't the
strangest thing about her.
She was out of focus.
A faint blur clung to her face and hands, as if she were
standing behind thick glass. The other faces in the crowded
hall were clear in the bright sunlight, but hers wouldn't
resolve no matter how hard he stared. She seemed to exist just
out of the reach of focus, like music played from a copy of a
copy of an old cassette tape.
Rex blinked, trying to clear his eyes, but the blurriness
stayed with the girl, tracking her as she slipped further into
the crowd. He abandoned his place by the wall and pushed his
way after her.
That was a mistake. Now sixteen, he was a lot bigger, his
dyed-black hair more obvious than ever, and his invisibility
left him as he pushed purposefully through the crowd.
A shove came from behind, and Rex's balance twisted under him.
More hands kept him reeling, four or five boys working
together until he came to a crashing stop, his shoulder
slamming into the row of lockers lining the wall.
"Out of the way, dork!" Rex felt a slap against the side of
his face. He blinked as the world went blurry, the hall
dissolving into a swirl of colors and moving blobs. The
sickening sound of his glasses skittering along the floor
reached his ears.
"Rex lost his spex!" came a voice. So Timmy Hudson did
remember his name. Laughter trailed away down the hall.
Rex realized that his hands were out in front of him, feeling
the air like a blind man's. He might as well be blind. Without
his glasses, the world was a blender full of meaningless
color.
The bell rang.
Rex slumped against the lockers, waiting for the hall to
clear. He'd never catch up with the new girl now. Maybe he'd
imagined her.
"Here," came a voice.
As he raised his eyes, Rex's mouth dropped open.
Without glasses Rex's weak eyes could see her perfectly.
Behind her the hall was still a mess of blurred shapes, but
her face stood out, clear and detailed. He noticed her green
eyes now, flecked with gold in the sunlight.
"Your glasses," she said, holding them out. Even this close,
the thick frames were still fuzzy, but he could see the girl's
outstretched hand with crystal clarity. The Focus clung to
her.
Finally willing himself to move, Rex closed his mouth and took
the glasses. When he put them on, the rest of the world jumped
into focus, and the girl blurred again. Just like the others
always did.
"Thanks," he managed.
"That's okay." She smiled, shrugged, and looked around at the
almost empty hall.
"I guess we're late now. I don't even know where I'm going."
Her accent sounded midwestern, crisper than Rex's Oklahoma
drawl.
"No, that was the eight-fifteen bell," he explained. "The late
bell's at eight-twenty. Where're you headed?"
"Room T-29." She held a schedule card tightly in one hand.
He pointed back at the doorway. "That's in the temps. Outside
on the right. Those trailers you saw on the way in."
She looked outside with a frown. "Okay," she said hesitantly,
like she'd never had class in a trailer before. "Well, I
better get going."
He nodded. As she walked away, Rex pulled off his glasses
again, and again she jumped into clarity as the rest of the
world became a blur.
Rex finally allowed himself to believe it and smiled. Another
one, and from somewhere beyond Bixby, Oklahoma.
Maybe this year was going to be different.
Rex saw the new girl a few more times before lunch.
She was already making friends. In a small school like Bixby,
there was something exciting about a new student - people
wanted to find out about her. Already the popular kids were
staking a claim to her, gossiping about what they'd learned
about her, trading on her friendship.
Rex knew that the rules of popularity wouldn't allow him near
her again, but he hovered nearby, listening, using his
invisibility. Not really invisible, of course, but just as
good. In his black shirt and jeans, with his dyed-black hair,
he could disappear into shadows and corners. There weren't
that many students like Timmy Hudson at Bixby High. Most
people were happy to ignore Rex and his friends.
Continues...
Excerpted from Midnighters #1
by Scott Westerfeld
Copyright © 2005 by Scott Westerfeld.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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