Rage Read Free

glance from the cautious barrier of her overlong bangs—and yes, he was looking at her, looking
into
her, his eyes burning a hole in her heart. Her stomach clenched, and in a sudden flash of tactile memory she could feel his hands on her, doing such things to her...
    She grabbed her afternoon pile of books and slammed her locker, then quickly fumbled on the combination lock.
    "Be seeing you," Adam said.
    Not if she could help it. Missy fled down the hall, her ears ringing with the Matts' laughter, her stupid body reminding her just how much she missed being with Adam. And that slowly turned to panic. The familiar feeling of suffocation leeched its way through her, making each breath torture, and her heart screamed behind the prison of her ribs.
    She thought desperately of her lockbox, tucked safely away in her closet.
    Not again,
she told herself.
Not again.
    Whether she meant Adam or her razorblade, Missy couldn't say.
    ***
    As soon as Missy vanished around the corner, Adam turned to the others. "Grabbing a smoke," he announced, and the other boys all got in line, like soldiers. Or lemmings.
    "Rah, carcinogens," said Death. Of course, the boys didn't hear him. They were in the prime of life, and because they weren't chosen to be Horsemen, there was no reason they should notice Death at all.
    Give it about twenty years with their pack-a-day habit. Then they'd notice him, all right.
    Death could have followed Missy, but he didn't bother. She didn't know it, but tonight was going to be a big night for her. And if Death wanted to be there, he'd better get his work done for the day. Being the epitome of patience wasn't an excuse to be a slacker.
    Whistling a jaunty tune, he sauntered out of the school.

Chapter 2
    Missy dove. She hit the ground hard on her side, her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. But she didn't feel the sting; she was too busy cradling the soccer ball to her gut.
    "Nice one!" Bella pumped her fist in the air. "Now up! Six seconds! Go!"
    Missy scrambled to her feet and pivoted right, throwing the ball two-handed over her head. Bella, though, had anticipated the direction correctly and was already body-blocking the shot, and now she was dribbling the ball, backing up for another attempt on the goal.
    "Got to use your body better," she scolded, dancing backward. "You practically texted the direction. Fakeout. Just because you're a goalie doesn't mean you can't be shrewd."
    Breathing heavily, Missy dropped into a low ready position, pretending she didn't feel the burn in her thighs. The rich smells of grass and dirt tickled her nostrils, and beneath that was the familiar odor of hard-earned sweat. She blinked perspiration out of her eyes, telling herself yet again that she needed a sweatband on her forehead. She swayed left, then right, her gaze locked on the soccer ball.
    "You taking a nap?" Bella laughed. "Don't just squat there in the goal box! Come out and grab the ball! I dare you!"
    Missy didn't take the bait. If she darted forward, she'd be committed to that and would have to block the shot while leaving the goal unprotected. Bella arced left, and Missy shuffled right, galloping sideways.
    "It's not enough to watch the ball," Bella said, moving right, now left again, coming forward and then darting to the side. "Watch my hips. But always follow the ball. Don't look away too long, because the ball moves fast." She emphasized the point with a powerhouse kick, aimed high.
    Eyes on the ball, Missy lifted her right knee and pushed off with her left leg, reaching long. Thumbs together so that her hands made a
W
, she caught the ball and rode it to the ground.
    "Good! Six seconds. Go!"
    Again, Missy hurled the ball away—and this time it got some distance before Bella got it under control. Missy took a moment to palm sweaty hair off her forehead and glance at the rest of the team. The girls, paired off, were scattered across the field, some doing passing drills, others attempting scoring shots while the