Angel Burn Read Free Page A

the place down if she ever couldn’t come in for some reason. The teachers would all go on strike.
    I poured some solvent onto a clean rag and started swabbing it around the empty space where the carburetor had been. “What was it today, do you think?” I said. “Cheerleading? Prom committee? Saving the world?”
    “Willow, this isn’t
funny,
” moaned Nina. “She’s heading right toward us!”
    “So? I’m sure she’s seen a carburetor before.” Nina stared at me. There was a beat, and then I realized what I’d said and started laughing. “Oh. Maybe not, huh?”
    Nina huffed out a breath, looking like she couldn’t decide whether to throttle me or join in laughing. “Look, I know
you
don’t care, but most people already think you’re Queen Weird, you know. This is
not
going to help matters, believe me —” She fell abruptly silent as Beth walked up.
    “Hi,” said Beth, looking uncertainly from Nina to me. She had long, honey-colored hair and makeup that was always so subtle and perfect that you could barely tell she had it on. Which had always seemed sort of a waste of time to me — spending hours putting on makeup that looked invisible once you were done — but there you go.
    “Hi,” I said back, poking my head out from underneath the hood.
    “Hi, Beth,” said Nina faintly. “Good drama club meeting?”
    “Yearbook,” corrected Beth. “Yeah, great.” She was staring at the open hood and me under it. “You’re  . . .  fixing Nina’s car,” she said. It was halfway between a question and a statement.
    I nodded. “Her carburetor.”
    “Carburetor. Right,” echoed Beth, blinking her wide brown eyes.
    There was a pause. I could see Beth mentally shaking her head to clear it and then deciding that, actually, she didn’t really want to pursue the carburetor thing. She cleared her throat. “Willow, I just wondered whether you had the homework assignment for Atkinson’s class. I wasn’t there yesterday.”
    I felt my eyebrows fly up. I hadn’t realized that Beth even knew we were in the same class. Or in the same school. Or on the same planet. On second thought, scratch that — we probably
weren’t
on the same planet. And why was she asking me, anyway? A dozen of her perfect friends were in that class.
    I shrugged. “Yeah, sure — it’s in my red folder.” I motioned toward my schoolbag, which was sitting beside the open toolbox on the ground. “Would you mind? My hands are all —” I held them up to show her, and she blanched.
    “Great, thanks.” She slipped the folder out of my bag and quickly scribbled down the assignment. As she put the folder back, she glanced at Nina and hesitated. She started to say something and stopped. Her neck turned bright pink.
    The motion of my hand with the rag slowed as I looked at her in surprise. All at once I knew exactly what was coming; I had seen it too many times before to mistake the signs. Nina’s eyes widened as she realized the same thing. “Maybe I’ll  . . .  go get a drink of water,” she said, taking an ultra-casual step backward. I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was:
Beth Hartley? Really? Miss Perfect?
    Once Nina was gone, Beth edged closer to me, lowering her voice. “Um, Willow  . . . ” She took a deep breath, running her manicured fingers through her hair. “I’ve heard that you do  . . .  readings. Like, psychic ones,” she added quickly. Her face was bonfire red.
    I nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”
    Beth seemed to catch her breath. Her expression was trying to be skeptical, but it was suddenly so hopeful and pleading that it was like having a puppy gaze at me. “Well — are you any good?” she blurted out.
    I shrugged as I started to install the new carburetor, tightening it into the intake manifold. “I guess so. I mean, not everything I see comes true, but most things seem to. And to be honest, the stuff that doesn’t is usually an alternate path.”
    She was watching me