Rewrite Redemption by J.H. Walker Read Free Book Online

be searching. As for forethought, heck, the only thing I could do was think about how things would be different if I could get the Shadow to help me. Wasn’t that forethought?
    With a Shadow’s help, my brother would be playing football once more. My parents would be harassing me about cleaning my room. And my room would be back in Seattle….yeah, the one far away from parental interference. I’d have my redwood back and life would be sweet again.
    “Dude,” hissed the guy in front of me. He turned and glared at my feet. “Ease up on the Red Bull.”  
    It took me a moment, but finally I realized I was tapping my foot on the floor. “Sorry,” I mouthed apologetically.
    The guy rolled his eyes and turned around. The blonde across from us snickered. The teacher glanced briefly in our direction but continued talking. I struggled to reign in my exploding excitement.
    Waiting was torture.
    The second the bell rang, I shot out of the seat, heading for room 217 as fast as I could maneuver through the crowd. The halls were packed and almost immediately, I got road-blocked by a group of girls. Weaving through them, I sprinted for the stairs. I could still feel the power, but it was fading fast. By the time I got there, the room was empty except for the teacher. It definitely wasn’t her. That meant it had to be a student.
    It was still in the building, but it was dissipating fast. I headed to the caf which seemed like my best bet. But the sheer number of bodies in the crowded lunchroom dampened my radar’s ability to focus. So I snatched a sandwich and some milk and walked back outside to find a tree.
    I felt a faint whisper of the energy, but not enough to track. Maybe the source was shielding now, or maybe they were close enough to a tree that their signal was muffled. Still, it had to be a student, and that meant they’d be back in room 217, fourth period…most likely tomorrow. And they’d probably return to school after lunch.
    I leaned back against the tree and stuck my earbuds in . The tree gave off a little juice. Compared to the source, though, it was like a watered-down latte. No problem. I still felt great from the hit I’d gotten outside room 217.
    I ate my sandwich and listened to some tunes. I kept my feelers out for the energy, but no dice. When kids began to stream back inside, I staked out the main entrance, screening everyone who passed. Finally, a minute before the last bell, I gave up and sprinted to class…slightly bummed, but still hopeful.
    Suddenly, I felt it somewhere in the distance. I high-fived myself in my head. It was just as I thought—something regular, not a onetime thing, or a fluke. I kept to my schedule, thinking I’d hunt again as soon as school let out. The rest of the afternoon, I struggled to pay attention; but it was a bitch and the hours crawled by. When class finally let out, it seemed like I’d been there for days.
    My seventh-period teacher stopped me on the way out of class to hand me a syllabus. That small delay totally screwed me. By the time I made it out the door, I couldn’t sense it anywhere.
    There was an outdoor mall a few blocks from the school. I figured I’d give it a shot. I needed to waste some time anyway before I could handle the home scene. I scoured it block by block, coming up empty, not even a twinge.
    Eventually, I found a bench for a stakeout and sat there getting my homework out of the way. I waited until the sun began its descent behind the mountains, plunging the temperature ten degrees lower and plunging my hopes along with it. My afternoon was a bust. I stuffed my books in my backpack.
    I walked home to My Chemical Romance —“ Under Pressure.” I’d spent my day all hyped-up, and now I had to go home to depression central. My brain flashed me a preview before I even walked up the steps.
    My brother would be zombied to the game controller, oblivious to my mom’s frantic attempts to insert a “positive note” into his tsunami of