Genevieve gave the redhead a shove, pushing him back so that he stumbled into another table, upsetting the drinks of the four ladies who sat there. Landon heard a muffled shriek. Both he and his father jumped up. His father grabbed Genevieve by the shoulders, holding her back.
“What’s your problem?” The redhead glared and clenched his fists. He stood nearly as tall as Landon, though half as wide.
“My problem is you!” Genevieve struggled to get free. “And you!” She kicked out at the pug-faced boy’s shin. Thankfully she missed, but the three boys backed away toward the door.
“Come on, Skip.” The spiky-haired one tugged the redhead’s arm. He turned to the pug-faced kid with the floppy hair and said, “Xander, let’s just go.”
The entire diner stared in disbelief as Genevieve’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Genevieve, you can’t act like this,” their father scolded as he guided her back to her seat. He kept his voice even and calm, though, and then he turned to the ladies at the table of spilled drinks where a waitress was already at work with a towel. He produced his wallet and removed some bills. “I’m very sorry. I’ll pay for those drink refills and any cleaning.”
Landon took a quick look around. Everyone was staring and whispering. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to die. He shook his head and tapped Genevieve to get her attention. “You know I don’t want people staring,” he scolded.
“You can’t let people disrespect you—here or when you’re on the football field, Landon,” Genevieve said. “You need to learn that.”
“This isn’t the football field. This is the diner.”
Genevieve gave him a fiery look that quickly melted, and he was afraid she would burst into tears, but she bit her lip and put her hand on top of his and said, “I’m sorry, Landon. I just can’t stand . . .”
“Don’t worry so much about me, Genevieve,” Landon said. “I’m gonna be fine here. This is a football town. When they see me play, no one’s gonna laugh. I promise.”
“You don’t—”
Landon cut her off with his hand. “You have to ignore people like that, Genevieve.”
Her eyes burned again and her nostrils flared. “Maybe you can ignore them, Landon. You didn’t hear what they said, but I did.”
Landon’s mouth turned sour. He glared at his sister, removed his hat, and disconnected his electronic ears, the processors, the magnetic discs, and the wires that connected the two parts. The components dangled in his hand for a moment like small sea creatures, and he showed them to her before he stuffed them into his pockets and put the cap back on his head. Genevieve had humiliated them all. They’d just moved here and Genevieve was already getting in trouble. Whatever those boys had said, she should have ignored it, just like he did.
Removing the external equipment for his implants was the most powerful statement Landon could make. He was cutting off his sister, cutting off the entire world. Now, none of it mattered, and as long as he refused to read their lips, no one could bother him.