the accident, so the wreck might actually be an improvement.
I climb up the steps to the trailer when something catches my eye. Near the tree line, I see movement. A shadowy form darts between the trees, too dark to see. My eyes stare intensely, attempting to discern the figure. Emerging through the blackness, two red eyes stare back at me.
CHAPTER 9
IF I WOULD have known school was going to be like this today, I would have stayed home. First, Jen wants to know every conceivable detail of the events, which I’d honestly rather not relive. Every time I describe what Ethan did, she replies “Oh my God, that’s so hot.”
Okay, yes, upon reflection, it’s hot. He’s hot. Who doesn’t want to be rescued by the man of their dreams? But I almost died, so I wasn’t really focused on taking the opportunity to flirt. And I certainly didn’t have a near death experience just for attention. To hear Jen talk, it’s like we should have dropped to the ground and done it on the side of the road, right then and there. Jen clearly lives in a fantasy world.
To the rest of the school, I’m like some kind of instant celebrity. I can’t take a step in the hallway without being accosted by someone wanting the scoop, or telling me what a miracle it is that I survived. People I’ve never met tell me how thankful they are that I’m still here. One girl actually wanted my autograph. Another was convinced that the shear fact that I’m still breathing is proof that supernatural forces are at work. All morning, people have been coming up to me wanting to touch me, like I’m some kind of religious artifact. I’m contemplating charging—at least I could start saving money for a new car. A new, used car.
Of course there is always that one person that has to be a jackass. Abigail Monroe just has to let me know that the reason I got in that accident and flipped over the cliff was because I am clearly a sinner. Her smug, condescending tone makes me furious, but I contain myself and just smile back at her. I’m reasonably certain that I’ve committed no sin worthy of such retribution.
By Abigail’s logic, there would be no need for the criminal justice system, as karma would take care of it. Bad things happen to good people all the time. And bad people seem to get away with evil a lot more often than they should. It just seems to be the way of the world.
I feel the tears well up in my eyes, and I fight them back. My thoughts drift instantly to my parents. They did nothing to deserve their fate. Abigail’s snide judgement gnaws at me. And it takes every thing inside of me to hold back from punching her in the jaw—or more realistically, beating her with my crutches.
Thankfully, Lucas shows up, putting a hand on my arm, as if sensing the impending doom I’m about to unleash on little miss snooty pants . “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Abigail?” he says.
Abigail huffs. “Away from you!” she says, storming off.
“I’m Lucas, we met at the bonfire,” he says with a comforting smile.
“I remember.”
“Don’t pay any attention to her.”
“I’m not,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Although, I’d have thoroughly enjoyed seeing you lay a right cross on her. That would have shut her up,” says Lucas.
“Was I that obvious?”
“You’re pretty easy to read.”
“Oh, am I?”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way. You just seem… genuine. I’m guessing people always know where they stand with you.”
“If I’m so easy to read, what am I thinking right now?” I ask.
“You’re wondering if I’ll be able to guess what your thinking?”
I huff and roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count.”
“Pick one thing and think about it. And don’t think about shoes, shopping, or cupcakes. That’s way too easy.”
“Cupcakes? Are you saying I’m fat?”
“No, no, not at all. I was just saying… Doesn’t everyone like cupcakes?”
“Look at you squirm,” I say, reveling in the fact
I climb up the steps to the trailer when something catches my eye. Near the tree line, I see movement. A shadowy form darts between the trees, too dark to see. My eyes stare intensely, attempting to discern the figure. Emerging through the blackness, two red eyes stare back at me.
CHAPTER 9
IF I WOULD have known school was going to be like this today, I would have stayed home. First, Jen wants to know every conceivable detail of the events, which I’d honestly rather not relive. Every time I describe what Ethan did, she replies “Oh my God, that’s so hot.”
Okay, yes, upon reflection, it’s hot. He’s hot. Who doesn’t want to be rescued by the man of their dreams? But I almost died, so I wasn’t really focused on taking the opportunity to flirt. And I certainly didn’t have a near death experience just for attention. To hear Jen talk, it’s like we should have dropped to the ground and done it on the side of the road, right then and there. Jen clearly lives in a fantasy world.
To the rest of the school, I’m like some kind of instant celebrity. I can’t take a step in the hallway without being accosted by someone wanting the scoop, or telling me what a miracle it is that I survived. People I’ve never met tell me how thankful they are that I’m still here. One girl actually wanted my autograph. Another was convinced that the shear fact that I’m still breathing is proof that supernatural forces are at work. All morning, people have been coming up to me wanting to touch me, like I’m some kind of religious artifact. I’m contemplating charging—at least I could start saving money for a new car. A new, used car.
Of course there is always that one person that has to be a jackass. Abigail Monroe just has to let me know that the reason I got in that accident and flipped over the cliff was because I am clearly a sinner. Her smug, condescending tone makes me furious, but I contain myself and just smile back at her. I’m reasonably certain that I’ve committed no sin worthy of such retribution.
By Abigail’s logic, there would be no need for the criminal justice system, as karma would take care of it. Bad things happen to good people all the time. And bad people seem to get away with evil a lot more often than they should. It just seems to be the way of the world.
I feel the tears well up in my eyes, and I fight them back. My thoughts drift instantly to my parents. They did nothing to deserve their fate. Abigail’s snide judgement gnaws at me. And it takes every thing inside of me to hold back from punching her in the jaw—or more realistically, beating her with my crutches.
Thankfully, Lucas shows up, putting a hand on my arm, as if sensing the impending doom I’m about to unleash on little miss snooty pants . “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Abigail?” he says.
Abigail huffs. “Away from you!” she says, storming off.
“I’m Lucas, we met at the bonfire,” he says with a comforting smile.
“I remember.”
“Don’t pay any attention to her.”
“I’m not,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Although, I’d have thoroughly enjoyed seeing you lay a right cross on her. That would have shut her up,” says Lucas.
“Was I that obvious?”
“You’re pretty easy to read.”
“Oh, am I?”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way. You just seem… genuine. I’m guessing people always know where they stand with you.”
“If I’m so easy to read, what am I thinking right now?” I ask.
“You’re wondering if I’ll be able to guess what your thinking?”
I huff and roll my eyes. “That doesn’t count.”
“Pick one thing and think about it. And don’t think about shoes, shopping, or cupcakes. That’s way too easy.”
“Cupcakes? Are you saying I’m fat?”
“No, no, not at all. I was just saying… Doesn’t everyone like cupcakes?”
“Look at you squirm,” I say, reveling in the fact
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