"Mary Rosenblum - Color Vision" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

a hundred times. But he thinks it’s cool, so I don’t care. It scares my dad,
I’m not sure why. I think he worries that I’m like my mother. But this doc-tor
said it was just a brain thing, that I’m kind of cross-wired and sound turns
into color for me. But it still scares him. I liked the doctor, but his voice was
a yucky, puke green color, and we moved again right after. We move a lot.
Even if I don’t talk about synesthesia.

“You can put your books away now.” Mrs. B is staring at the clock, and
her hands are kind of fluttering. “We’re going to have a special visit from the
new principal. Mr. Teleomara ran a very successful private school in New
York and we’re incredibly lucky to have him.” She pats her hair and glances
at her reflection in the glass of Mr. Beasley’s aquarium. Is that lipstick? I
can’t believe it, but yeah, she’s smearing it on, real sneaky, with her back to
us like we can’t see. And she has to be a hundred years old. Well, fifty
anyway.

“I want you on your best behavior,” she says, and pins Jeremy and
me with the Death Eye. “Any disturbance and we’ll have a quiz on fractions
every single day for the next week.”

Great, now everybody’s looking at us. Jeremy makes this innocent
face that makes everybody laugh and I just look at my book. Trying real
hard to look real well behaved. Nobody’s seen the new principal. He’s
supposed to be real strict and probably eats babies. You know. I keep
pretending to be really into my fractions as Mrs. B goes all high-pitched and
breathy at the door, welcoming him.

“Hello, class. I’m delighted to meet you.” Deep voice.

Silver?

I blink. It kind of sparkles in the air, like glitter. Never seen that before.
So I look up and he’s tall and looks like a movie star, which is why the
lip-stick on Mrs. B, I guess. She’s patting her hair again and smirking and
her voice has this greenish tinge now. Even Mr. Beasley gets into the act,
hiss-ing purple all over the place. And I look, and then I look again. He’s
now got a bright blue jewel right in the center of his head and he’s got
human eyes, you know, with an iris and pupil.

And yeah, he does not like me.

Something is wrong here.

“Ah, a reptile lover.”

Mr. Beasley hisses real purple and I look back quick at my book, but
it’s too late. The new principal comes over to stand right next to my desk.
He’s smiling, and you know what? His smile makes me think of Mr.
Beasley’s. I don’t think he likes me, either.