The Seventh Sister, A Paranormal Romance Read Free Page B

school.

Chapter 2

    Fight Night

    The parking lot is crowded tonight. Only in a place like this will an event like the Sadie Hawkins dance be over attended. I park in the faculty parking lot because there is way less cars here, and the plow did a better job clearing out the snow.
    The students are filtering in to the auditorium all dressed up. Some of the girls, who have forgone their coats, are hugging themselves while stomping off into to the building as fast as they can. I shake my head at them wondering, why the sacrifice?
    I check the time on my watch and it’s eight-thirty. Great, I’m late. After taking a deep breath, I shuffle across the icy asphalt. Once I get into the mix just about everyone stares at me. I think they’re shocked to see me, but I keep my face down and weave through the bystanders until I make it to the front door.
    “Tickets,” a little pointy-faced girl asks. I see her bottom lip trembling. It’s cold out of course, and she’s not wearing a coat even while sitting at the table taking tickets.
    “Don’t have one. But I got to go in,” I say, halfway hoping she’ll tell me sorry, no ticket, not entrance. That way, tomorrow I can tell Mrs. Lowenstein, hey I came but the commando you had manning the door wouldn’t let me in so take it up with her. Then I hear the heels of those little shoes go tap, tap, tap and look right through the opened doorway. Here she comes still wearing her tight suit from earlier today
    The look on her face makes me sigh gravely. This encounter is not going to go well.
    “Sorry,” I say before she’s able to get a word out. “Lots going on at home and I lost track of time.”
    She sighs hard. “Well, you’re here now. Follow me.” She turns her back and saunters off, expecting me to keep up.
    I give the girl manning the door one last glance before starting off behind Mrs. Lowenstein. Funny, I’ve never seen the girl before, or if I have I don’t remember her face—which is not odd for me. I can’t remember more than half the faces or names of the people in this school and we’ve been classmates for the better part of three years. That’s how long we’ve lived here—well, I’ve lived here.
    Inside there’s crate paper and hay everywhere. It’s sort of ironic, a one-horse town and barnyard décor—so fitting. As I pass people, they watch me stride across the glossy wooden floor. It’s ridiculous actually. Shouldn’t they focus on those who want to be here, basically each other?
    “You could’ve worn something a little dance worthy.” Mrs. Lowenstein turns to say thi to me over her shoulder.
    “I’m working right?”
    “Yes, the punch containers.”
    I take steps to easily catch up to her. “The what?”
    She stops, so I stop too.
    “The punch, Miss Decker.”
    “That’s my punishment, serve punch to kids?”
    “Do you mean your peers?”
    “Okay,” I say haughtily, “peers.”
    “Chop, chop, the kids are getting thirsty,” she says before walking off.
    I look over at a table with cupcakes, cookies, all sorts of candies for sale, and then there’s the punch dispenser with Derek Firth standing right next to it and grinning at me.
    “Great,” I say to myself and reluctantly walk off to take my post.
    I thought I’d be moving tables and chairs, setting up speaker systems or something, not serving refreshments.
    “See, I’m your date for tonight after all,” Derek whispers in my ear after coming close.
    I take a step to the side, away from him. “What are you doing here?” I’m a bit snippety.
    “Volunteering.” He’s still grinning.
    I snort. “You should stop, really.”
    While I’m searching the floor, there’s Riley grouped with about four other girls, beaming in on us.
    “You want me to stop volunteering?”
    “You know what I’m talking about.”
    A spikey haired kid steps up to the punch containers.
    “Need a cup,” he says directly to me.
    I pick up a waxy cardboard cup, put it under the spout, pull the