The Story of Owen Read Online Free

thought of that,” he said. “Small towns are weird.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “We kind of are.”
    â€œI do like it here, though,” he said, closing his pencil case. He looked like he thought he might have offended me. “It’s quiet.”
    â€œAnd our dragons are smaller.” That wasn’t true, exactly. Some studies claimed that dragons that preyed on cities and ate more carbon were bigger. Others theorized that it was easier to fight a dragon on open ground than it was to do it in an urban landscape. Even as I thought it, though, I realized that I wasn’t sure if I had meant actual dragons or the more pernicious, high school cafeteria kind. It hardly mattered. After today, he’d probably disappear into a group of popular students, and I’d never get to talk to him again. I knew that was a stupid thing to think. Even with the addition of the SCI students, the school was still small enough that I’d see him every day. And, after all,we did sit next to each other in two classes. But we wouldn’t be friends.
    â€œThere’s that too,” he said, apparently deciding to take me literally. “What do we do in detention?”
    â€œI have no idea,” I told him. “This will be my first.”
    Forty-five minutes later, I still had no idea what happened in detention. Or at least I assumed that not everyone had a detention like ours. Instead of writing lines or doing our homework, Owen had spent the whole time detailing his training regimen to Ms. Ngembi, our vice-principal. She coached soccer in the spring, and I knew she was already trying to determine if Owen would be able to play for the team.
    â€œI don’t really have a lot of time for school sports,” Owen said, as lunch wound down. “But I could ask my aunts.”
    â€œYou don’t train with your father?” Ms. Ngembi said. Her tone was surprised, and I wondered why she thought someone like Lottie Thorskard couldn’t train another dragon slayer.
    â€œNo, he’s too busy,” Owen said. “There aren’t always as many dragon attacks out here, but he does have a very large area to patrol. He spends a lot of time driving.”
    â€œOf course,” Ms. Ngembi said. “Your aunt must be inspiring to you.”
    â€œ
They
are,” Owen said. I don’t think Ms. Ngembi noticed the difference in his voice when he spoke of his aunts to people outside the family. He wasn’t cold by any means, but he was very professional, and sounded a lot older than he actually was.
    â€œMy goodness, look at the time!” Ms. Ngembi said, as the clock on her desk gave a quiet ring to indicate that we’d served our punishment and that she was legally required to let us goeat something. “Go have your lunches, and hopefully the next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances.”
    Once we were in the hallway, Owen looked down toward the cafeteria. It was loud enough that we could hear it all the way from where we stood, and I could tell that he wasn’t looking forward to the hush that would fall over the crowd when he entered.
    â€œThey’re all going to know who I am now, aren’t they?” he asked, not sounding particularly hopeful.
    â€œYes, they are,” I told him. “And they’ll also know that you had detention. You’re probably a rock star in there.”
    â€œIs there another place to eat?”
    â€œI usually just eat by my locker, when I don’t have music stuff to do,” I said. “It’s quieter, and so long as you don’t make a mess, no one cares.”
    â€œLet’s do that,” he said.
    I had music after lunch and Owen had gym, though he was decidedly morose at the prospect. I didn’t see him again until fourth period algebra, where he secured me a seat at the front.
    â€œThree out of four classes,” he said when I sat down. He sounded like he’d won