A Whisper To A Scream Read Free Page B

cackles.
    I heave my books on top of my desk and rotate
around, slanting my eyes. “It’s not my fault you lack in satisfying
the opposite sex.”
    Here’s the 411 on scandalous hookups. If the
guy is involved with another girl she automatically assumes the
romp is the other girls fault. Why? It’s not like I randomly sought
Blake out and said ‘hey why don’t you cheat on your girlfriend with
me?’ I’m not that type. What I did with Blake was a mistake. I wish
Megan could understand that.
    “Oh and you would know all about satisfying
the opposite sex, right slut?” Her voice is emotionless. Her eyes
hard.
    I give her a deceitful leer. “And so does
your boyfriend, yum.”
    That shuts her up. Her eyes bug out and for a
second they look like they’re about to pop out of her skull. I plop
down on the soft cushioned computer chair feeling triumphant. I’ve
won the battle, but I know it will be a long shot before I win the
war.
    ****
    At lunch, I stroll to the back of the filled
cafeteria. Chatter circulates through the room and students scurry
back and forth with their bright colored lunch trays. I try to peek
at what’s on one of the trays as a freshman boy passes, but I can’t
get a good look.
    The last table in the back left corner is
where me, Wren, and our friend Molly always sit. Wren picked this
table when we were sophomores because it’s directly in front of the
heater and in the winter the school gets a little drafty.
    Molly’s ginger-red hair is pulled back in a
ponytail and it hangs gracefully down her back. A sophomore boy
with chubby cheeks and freckles hangs from his bench with an open
can of pop. He’s sneaky, trying to dip Molly’s hair in the fizzling
refreshment. I stop in front of him and glare. He takes one look at
me, and sits back in his seat.
    I don’t terrorize the underclassmen, but I’m
extremely loyal to my friends. I’ll cut a bitch for them. Plus Wren
and Molly couldn’t fight off a mosquito.
    Molly has her head buried in a book. She
pushes her brown tortoise shell glasses up and puts her face
closer. Any closer and she’ll be sniffing the pages.
    “Hey!” I bark.
    Molly snaps up and clutches her chest. “Geez,
Ellory!”
    “No studying at lunch,” I tell her. “This is
a free period.”
    She exhales. “Not when you have a huge AP
Government test.” Molly, like Wren, hopes to get into some fancy
Ivy League school.
    My attention averts to Wren as she floats
toward her. She’s always so graceful, like Miss America or
something and she fills out every inch of the hot-pink dress she’s
wearing perfectly.
    At the table, she sets her tray down and I
peer over her shoulder at the contents. “Gross. Tuna surprise.”
    Wren sits and smiles. “Yup.”
    I am skipping lunch today.
    She glances at me excitedly, before digging
into the unknown slop on her tray. I don’t understand how she can
find that appetizing. Who knows what they put in that?
    Her blue eyes sparkle. “Guess what?”
    “You got into another top college.”
    She playfully slaps my shoulder. “No.”
    I’m stumped. “What happened?”
    “We got a new kid.”
    My eyebrows raise as Molly looks up from her
book. “Really?”
    “Yes,” says Wren. “And he’s hot.”
    Molly leans in closer to Wren’s face. Like
she’s trying to be secretive. “Like really hot?”
    “Like scorching hot,” Wren gushes. “Like
hotter than every guy in this school, hot.”
    This ground-breaking piece of info peaks my
interest. “Really.” Now I know Wren, and even though she’s a bit on
the prudish side, we share the same appreciation for the hotness of
the opposite sex. “Well how come I haven’t seen him?” New kids
transferring to Logan High is like a leap year, something that only
happens once every four years.
    Wren slurps down a spoonful of Tuna surprise
and I shudder at the sound of the slimy concoction sliding down her
esophagus.
    “He came in late,” she says in between bites.
“He was in my fourth