Beautiful Creatures Read Free Page B

kinds of mates I didn’t even want to hear about.
     But the only thing we got a look at was too much of Charlotte Chase in a jean skirt two sizes too small. Which meant we weren’t
     going to find out anything until lunch, because our next class was ASL, American Sign Language, and it was strictly no talking
     allowed. No one was good enough at signing to even spell “new girl,” especially since ASL was the one class we had in common
     with the rest of the Jackson basketball team.
    I’d been on the team since eighth grade, when I grew six inches in one summer and ended up at least a head taller than everyone
     else in my class. Besides, you had to do something normal when both of your parents were professors. It turned out I was good
     at basketball. I always seemed to know where the players on the other team were going to pass the ball, and it gave me a place
     to sit in the cafeteria every day. At Jackson, that was worth something.
    Today that seat was worth even more because Shawn Bishop, our point guard, had actually seen the new girl. Link asked the
     only question that mattered to any of them. “So, is she hot?”
    “Pretty hot.”
    “Savannah Snow hot?”
    As if on cue, Savannah—the standard by which all other girls at Jackson were measured—walked into the cafeteria, arm in arm
     with Ethan-Hating Emily, and we all watched because Savannah was 5'8" worth of the most perfect legs you’ve ever seen. Emily
     and Savannah were almost one person, even when they weren’t in their cheerleading uniforms. Blond hair, fake tans, flip-flops,
     and jean skirts so short they could pass for belts. Savannah was the legs, but Emily was the one all the guys tried to get
     a look at in her bikini top, at the lake in the summer. They never seemed to have any books, just tiny metallic bags tucked
     under one arm, with barely enough room for a cell phone, for the few occasions when Emily actually stopped texting.
    Their differences boiled down to their respective positions on the cheer squad. Savannah was the captain, and a base: one
     of the girls who held up two more tiers of cheerleaders in the Wildcats’ famous pyramid. Emily was a flyer, the girl at the
     top of the pyramid, the one thrown five or six feet into the air to complete a flip or some other crazy cheer stunt that could
     easily result in a broken neck. Emily would risk anything to stay on top of that pyramid. Savannah didn’t need to. When Emily
     got tossed, the pyramid went on fine without her. When Savannah moved an inch, the whole thing came tumbling down.
    Ethan-Hating Emily noticed us staring and scowled at me. The guys laughed. Emory Watkins clapped a hand on my back. “In like
     sin, Wate. You know Emily, the more she glares, the more she cares.”
    I didn’t want to think about Emily today. I wanted to think about the opposite of Emily. Ever since Link had brought it up
     in history, it had stuck with me. The new girl. The possibility of someone different, from somewhere different. Maybe someone
     with a bigger life than ours, and, I guess, mine.
    Maybe even someone I’d dreamed about. I knew it was a fantasy, but I wanted to believe it.
    “So did y’all hear about the new girl?” Savannah sat down on Earl Petty’s lap. Earl was our team captain and Savannah’s on-again,
     off-again boyfriend. Right now, they were on. He rubbed his hands over her orangey-colored legs, just high enough so you didn’t
     know where to look.
    “Shawn was just fillin’ us in. Says she’s hot. You gonna put her on the squad?” Link grabbed a couple of Tater Tots off my
     tray.
    “Hardly. You should see what she’s wearin’.” Strike One.
    “And how pale she is.” Strike Two. You could never be too thin or too tan, as far as Savannah was concerned.
    Emily sat down next to Emory, leaning over the table just a little too much. “Did he tell you
who
she is?”
    “What do you mean?”
    Emily paused for dramatic effect.
    “She’s Old Man Ravenwood’s