The Chosen Read Free Page B

office and computers. “What? No. They’re totally not that hip. I just bought these off of Justin. I’m using my iPod and a computer.”
    “Wow. That’s
so
old school.”
    “Piss off, King. At least we’ll get to hear some good stuff this year.”
    “Yes, but can we dance to it?”
    “I’m
counting
on you to help fill the floor until thingspick up,” Paul said earnestly. “I even promised Amy and some of her gothier friends that I’d play some Switchblade Symphony and New Order in the first set.”
    “You know, you should actually write something for the paper sometime,” Chloe said as Paul unlocked the office door to
The Lantern
’s office. She didn’t actually work on the school newspaper herself but often took advantage of the couch and computers that her friend had access to because of his position as editor. “Put your vast musical knowledge to use. Write a ‘just released’ column or something. Get some college application points.”
    “Huh.” He paused, considering it. “Sure would beat editing the crappy freshman editorials. WeIl3 that’s why you’re the brains of the operation.”
    “Nah, just the brawn.
And
the claws.” Chloe shuffled in after he opened the door for her, prepared to throw her backpack onto the couch like she always did before throwing herself onto it, but she stopped herself midswing, just in time to keep from throwing the ten-pound bag onto Amy’s head. She was flipping through a copy of
The Nation,
her legs primly crossed, pretending not to have realized she’d surprised Chloe and Paul.
    “Hey, guys,” Amy said casually. “What’s up?” “Not much—how’d you get in here?” Paul didn’t sound as thrilled as he probably should have been—his girlfriend had decided to surprise him by suddenly appearing in a semiprivate room. Once Chloe left, itwould probably mean a major snogging session—what gave?
    “Carson let me in.” Amy jerked her thumb over her shoulder. Somewhere in the supplies closet, someone was rummaging.
    “I can take off …,” Chloe suggested. She would have to find someplace else to nap—maybe under the bleachers at gym? The only people to find her would be janitors or dealers, and neither would show up until after school.
    “Nah, it’s okay,” Amy said, putting the magazine down.
    “Good.” Chloe heaved a sigh of relief and fell down next to Amy, immediately curling up and putting her head on one of the well-worn and slightly grimy pillows.
    Carson came out of the supply closet and glared at the three of them. “Paul, you’re an editor. You
work
here—you can’t just keep using this place as your private club room.”
    “Actually, I’m a columnist now,” Paul said with an evil grin.
    “I’ve got an idea,” Chloe called sleepily from the couch. “You shut up about us being here, and we won’t tell Keira that you made the hot and heavy with Halley last night.”
    Carson didn’t even try to deny it; he just huffed and spun on his heel back into the supply closet.
    “And
how
do we know that?” Amy asked, looking at Chloe.
    Paul pointed at his nose and made a little cat-clawing motion with his hand.
    “Oh, right. Nice work, Chlo.” But Chloe was already fast asleep.

    Alyec actually took her out to dinner that evening—a diner, but at least it wasn’t McDonald’s—and gossiped about the band trip. He was as bad as a girl, his eyes lighting up delightedly as he related the exploits and disasters of various hookups that had occurred. No wonder he didn’t mind the cultish aspects of Firebird: it was just one big soap opera to him.
    The lighting in the diner was dismally fluorescent and the decor was faded plastic aqua, all the way from the scratched-up bar to the bench seat Chloe’s ass was sticking to. Outside giant pane windows, the blackness was solid except for the lights of an occasional passing bus—kind of like that famous painting by Edward Hopper. It was a far cry from Firebird, with its velvet curtains and