Ungifted by Gordon Korman Page B

comforting that I had no idea. If I understood his getup, it might have meant part of me was inside that bizarro world.
    I saw the smirks and overheard some of the nasty remarks directed toward kids like Noah and Abigail, who was dressed for the National Spelling Bee. Or Latrell, who had asked at least half a dozen girls to dance, and had been shot down by all of them. If Oz thought this would be confidence building, he was nuts!
    â€œPa-a-arty!!!”
    It wasn’t easy to drown out the sound system, but Sanderson bellowed it right in my ear.
    Nussbaum was beside him. It was a bad omen. “What a night, huh, Donovan? Lot of hotties in this crowd! Her, for instance.”
    I followed his pointing finger, expecting to see Heather or Deirdre. No, it was Abigail in the crosshairs. Oz had her dancing, which she was accomplishing with two locked knee joints. I’ve seen heads of lettuce with more rhythm. She moved like a stilt walker. The things some people do for their straight A’s!
    â€œCut it out,” I growled.
    â€œThis party rocks!” Sanderson declared. “You can feel the brainpower buzzing around like radio waves. I’m getting smarter just standing here.”
    â€œThat’s not how it works,” Nussbaum scoffed. “The higher up you wear your belt, that’s your genius level. If I buckle mine around my forehead, do you think I could go to school here just like the great Donovan Curtis?”
    I groaned. “Hilarious, guys. Now, go find—”
    My voice trailed off. Mr. Osborne had left Abigail, and was venturing on in search of somebody else to annoy. Now the Daniels were pushing through the crowd, heading right for her.
    â€œCome back here!” Who was I kidding? I’d never make myself heard over the music. And if they did hear me, would they listen? Fat chance.
    There were only two Daniels, yet they seemed to swarm Abigail, surrounding her, smiling, being charming, all the while smirking and rolling their eyes. Their audience was everybody—the Hardcastle kids, anyway. The Daniels got her dancing again, comically stiff-legged.
    I should have been laughing myself. What did I care about Abigail Lee? The girl hated me, and I wasn’t too fond of her, either. But the whole attitude—the idea that the gifted kids were here for the entertainment of the cool people—made me sick. It was bad enough now, with Abigail treating the Daniels like muggers. But if they managed to win her over, convince her that they liked her— that would be major-league humiliation.
    I blasted through the gathering crowd, outflanked the Daniels, and grabbed Abigail’s wrist with a grip that must have hurt at least a little. I don’t even know what I said. Something like, “You’re dancing with me now.”
    If she viewed the Daniels as muggers, the look she gave me was Voldemort-worthy. I didn’t care. She had to be saved, undeserving as she was.
    Nussbaum got in my face. “What’s your problem, Donovan?”
    â€œShe’s in my homeroom,” I replied through clenched teeth. “I get first dibs.”
    â€œManners, dude! We’re guests!”
    Abigail was watching all this through her thick round glasses, her uncomfortable expression turning to bewilderment. She was brilliant, but all the IQ points in the world wouldn’t help her in a situation like this. It must have seemed like three guys fighting over her—something I guarantee had never happened before. Not on this planet.
    She tried to sidestep me and return to the Daniels. Talk about a blow to your self-esteem—I was being dumped by Abigail! That had to be an all-time low! I stuck with the plan, though, taking her hand and twirling her around—a maneuver she executed with the grace of someone who was being handcuffed by police.
    Luckily, the Daniels saw the chaperones watching and retreated before Abigail could get back to them. Or maybe it was