Arthur Quinn and the World Serpent Read Online Free

…’ Even after all this time, Arthur found it difficult to force the words through his lips. He looked at Ash and it suddenly occurred to him that she wasn’t Paul or Dave or even Louise; she wasn’t any of his friends from home. And that loneliness he had felt the previous night lying in bed came back to him. Ash was becoming blurred in his vision, as unwelcome tears filled his eyes. He looked away, ashamed of the poor first impression he was making, and looped a finger through the ribbon tied around his wrist.
    Ash stepped forward and shyly patted his back. ‘It’s all right. Moving can be tough. So can … other stuff.’
    He looked back at her, nodded and smiled weakly. They walked on to the bus stop, talking about nothing important at all.
    Max was already sitting in the bus shelter when they got there, out of breath and clutching his football to his lap. ‘I win,’ he said through gasps, smiling as Ash tousled his hair.
    A bus approached from the end of the road and stopped at the traffic lights. ‘Just in time,’ said Ash, counting her coins for the bus fare.
    Then a strange thing happened that afterwards they couldn’t explain. Déjà vu is an unusual feeling – like you’re reliving a moment for the second time, as if the moment is a scene from a movie on repeat. But what happened to Arthur, Ash and Max was the opposite. Time didn’t feel as if it skipped back, but rather that it skipped forward. When Ash looked up from her coins, she realised that the bus had somehow managed to pass them by and that they were the only ones left standing at the bus stop.
    â€˜Did that just –’ She stopped mid-sentence when she saw who was crossing the road towards them. Arthur followed her gaze. The boy was also wearing the Belmont uniform. His hair was cropped close to his head, a pale, almost white blond, and his eyes were a sparkling, icy blue. He strode across as if all the world’s share of confidence had been funnelled directly into him.
    Arthur, who’d always been quite shy and modest himself, took an instant dislike to the boy crossing the street. He knew it was totally irrational to dislike someone before even meeting them – in fact, his mother had always warned him not to judge a book by its cover – but the cockiness the boy exuded simply striding towards them put him right off. No one should be that sure of themselves, Arthur thought.
    â€˜Will!’ Ash gave the boy a brief but caring hug.
    â€˜Late again?’ he asked when he stepped back. Max bounded up to him, starting to chatter away about football, but to no avail as Ash spoke over him.
    â€˜We missed the bus,’ Ash explained. ‘It was really weird.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t worry about it. Who’s this?’
    â€˜Oh, sorry! Will, this is Arthur. He just moved in across the road from us. Arthur Quinn, Will Doyle. He’s in our class too.’
    â€˜Hey man, how’s it going?’ Will offered his hand. Arthur went to shake it in the usual way, but Will’s hand moved in a rapid succession of hand motions and grips that Arthur had only seen in American music videos. He couldn’t keep up. When the onslaught ended, Will sat down on the bus-stop bench. ‘So, you’re coming to Belmont?’
    Arthur nodded silently.
    â€˜Cool, cool. It’s not bad. Good gaff.’
    â€˜I’m sure it is.’ Just then another bus pulled up. While boarding it, Will jostled past the others to get to the back row first. He lounged across two seats, keeping Ash and Max entertained for the whole journey. Arthur, meanwhile, pretended that he was very interested in the view outside the window.

    Joe had spent all morning in the Citi-Trak prefab office poring over the plans for the Metro. He studied blueprints, maps – both geographical and geothermal – computer-generated images of the finished tunnel (complete with smiling