Under the Bridge Read Free

should
provide some protection if the troll took a swing at her.
    Of course, if he were that close, he might
choose to simply bite off her head. In that case, she was screwed,
dew or no dew.
    A gleam like freshly washed cherries caught
Billy’s eye. She looked up as Carrie slid out of her car, one
Barbie doll perfect leg at a time. She wasn’t tall, but Carrie was
perfectly proportioned. She also knew how to use her enormous
self-confidence to wrap herself in rock star glamour. Today there
was an air of dark tragedy about her, and her friends flocked to
her, cooing soothingly. They’d been waiting for her, far more
interested in the local drama than they were in getting to class on
time.
    The official story was that Lance had been
drunk, tumbled on the rocks, and fallen in the river. Carrie had
run to get help, but of course no one could see much of the river
in the dark. His parents were hoping his body would wash up so they
could give it a decent burial. Only Carrie and her family knew that
the body would never be found.
    Billy narrowed her eyes as she assessed her
cousin. Carrie might be upset at the loss of her boyfriend, but it
didn’t go very deep. She’d give it two weeks before Carrie got
tired of the tragedy and found herself a new football player—unless
the basketball team caught her eye first.
    “Sorry to hear about your boyfriend,” Billy
called when Carrie got close. Judging by the annoyance in Carrie’s
eyes, the recent heartbreak was still no excuse for talking to each
other.
    Carrie slowed and carefully swept her
straight black hair from her eyes, probably trying not to scratch
her cheeks with her newly manicured nails. She was sporting a new
asymmetrical bob, which she’d somehow managed to make gleam like
strands of pure onyx. That’s how she’d spent the weekend—drowning
her grief in the salon. Her mother had paid for a full day of
massage, mud wrap, the whole bit. Apparently there was nothing like
flashing Daddy’s credit card to soothe a wounded soul.
    Carrie narrowed her eyes. They were brown
with greenish bits (like swamp water, Billy always thought). “It’s
too bad you weren’t at the party, Bill. You might have been able to
help.”
    “Bill” raised a brow. Help how? As bait? She
stifled a laugh at the image of her throwing herself in the troll’s
path for Lance. She had to admire Carrie’s attempt to make
her feel guilty, too. Now it was her fault that Carrie’s boyfriend
had become an entree?
    “That is tragic. But somehow, I don’t
think you would have invited me when you slipped off to make out.
Third wheel, and all that.” Besides, she hadn’t been invited. Not
that she cared, but Carrie would make a point of rubbing it in.
    Carrie patted her arm. “Don’t worry, Bill.
You won’t always be a third wheel. I’m sure you’ll find
someone…someday.” Her tone said there wasn’t a chance of that,
ever. She continued into the school, wearing a satisfied little
smirk.
    Billy smiled, too, as she eyed Carrie’s
no-doubt expensive new shoes. It was juvenile…and irresistible.
Murmuring softly in the Old Tongue, she told the shoes, “You’re
slippery. No one can stand in you.”
    Obediently, the shoes began to skid and
slide. With a gasp, Carrie grabbed onto the nearest person, a
pimply young freshman. Astonished, he caught her just before she
fell on her tush, and gamely held on as Carrie continued to slip
and slide. Billy let the comedy continue for almost a minute,
allowing the boy to get in several good gropes before she murmured,
“ Be shoes. Anyone can stand in you .” Immediately the drama
stopped.
    Gasping, Carrie thrust the boy away and
straightened her clothes. Those who had witnessed the scene laughed
and hurried on to class, leaving her friends to fuss over her.
    Carrie was too flustered to look around for
the culprit, and hurried inside. However, it wouldn’t be long
before she figured it out.
    Smiling cheerfully, Billy made her way to
class. She was