Hate List by Jennifer Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

always. It felt so good to be under his arm again.
    “Hey,” he said. “What’re you losers doing?” He used his free hand to do some sort of handshake thing with Duce and then socked
     David in the shoulder.
    “Where you been?” David asked.
    Nick smirked and I was struck by how odd he looked. Vibrant, almost buzzing or something.
    “Been busy,” was Nick’s only reply. His eyes swept the front of the school. “Been busy,” he repeated, but he said it so quietly
     I’m pretty sure I was the only one to hear him. Not that he was really talking to any of us. I could’ve sworn he was talking
     to the school itself. The building, the ant-like activity inside of it.
    Mr. Angerson scuffed up behind us then and used his “principal voice,” the one we liked to imitate at parties:
No, Garvin students, beer is bad for your growing brains. You must eat a healthy breakfast before coming to school, Garvin
     students. And remember, Garvin students, just say no to drugs.
    “All right, Garvin students,” he said. Stacey and I elbowed each other and snickered. “Let’s not linger this morning. Time
     to go to class.”
    Duce flicked Angerson a salute and started marching into the school. Stacey and David followed him, laughing. I started, too,
     but stopped under Nick’s arm, which was still holding me in place on the sidewalk. I looked up at him. He was still staring
     at the school, a grin playing around the corners of his mouth.
    “Better go before Angerson ruptures something,” I said, tugging at Nick’s arm. “Hey, I was thinking. Want to ditch lunch and
     get Casey’s today?”
    He didn’t answer, but continued staring at the school silently.
    “Nick? We better go,” I said again. No response. Finally I kind of shoved him with my hip. “Nick?”
    He blinked and looked down at me, the grin never changing, the bright look in his eyes never wavering. Maybe even growing
     more intense. I wondered what in the heck he and Jeremy had taken that morning. He was acting really weird.
    “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. Got a lot to do today.”
    We started walking, our hips bumping one another with each step.
    “I’d let you borrow my MP3 player for first period, but Christy Bruter busted it on the bus,” I said, holding it up for him
     to see. He peered at it for a moment. His smile widened. He grabbed me tighter and walked toward the door more quickly.
    “I’ve been wanting to do something about her for a long time,” he said.
    “I know. I totally hate her,” I whined, squeezing all the attention I could out of the incident. “I don’t know what her problem
     is.”
    “I’ll take care of it.”
    I smiled, excited. The sleeve of Nick’s jacket scratched along the back of my neck. It felt nice. Real somehow. Like as long
     as that sleeve was scratching along the skin of my neck everything would be normal, even if he was on something. For right
     now anyway, Nick was here with me, holding me, going to stand up for me. Not for Jeremy. For me.
    We hit the doors and Nick finally let go of my shoulders. A breeze gusted right at that moment and swept down the collar of
     my shirt, billowing the front of it. I shuddered, my spine suddenly getting really cold.
    Nick opened a door and waited for me to go in ahead of him.
    “Let’s go get this finished,” he said. I nodded, heading toward the Commons, my eyes peeled for Christy Bruter, my teeth chattering.

3
    [F ROM THE G ARVIN C OUNTY S UN -T RIBUNE ,
M AY 3, 2008, R EPORTER A NGELA D ASH ]
    Jeff Hicks, 15—As a freshman, Hicks would have ordinarily not been walking through the Commons, according to some students.
     “We don’t go through there if we can help it,” freshman Marcie Stindler told reporters. “The seniors hassle us if we go down
     there. It’s sort of like an unwritten freshman rule to stay away from the Commons except during lunch. Every incoming freshman
     knows that.”
    But Hicks was running late on the morning of May 2nd and cut through