Rhymes With Witches by Lauren Myracle Read Free Book Online Page A

Nate shuffling through CDs by Kyle’s stereo, my heart whomped so hard I thought I would be sick.
This is your chance
, I coached myself.
This is your only, only chance.
I swallowed and made myself step forward.
    â€œUm, hi,” I said.
    His eyes flicked over me. He grunted.
    â€œSo … picking out some music?” I blushed the second I saidit, because duh, what else did I think he was doing? Strumming a banjo? But it didn’t matter, because his attention had already slid elsewhere.
    â€œRyan!” he called, holding one CD aloft. “Ice bonus, man!”
    He brushed past me on the way to the CD player and didn’t notice as he knocked my shoulder, because I was absolutely invisible.
    Humiliated, I slunk to the kitchen. The tile counters and the top of the island were cluttered with plastic cups and half-full wineglasses, but there were no actual people in the room. It was a party-free zone, at least for the moment. I bit my lip, then crossed to the far side of the island. I slid down behind it, bringing my knees to my chest as my butt reached the floor. I was eye level with the cabinets under the sink. A lone blue M&M rested on the floor by a piece of fluff.
    I exhaled. All that was left of my mojito were small ovals of ice, and I sucked a piece into my mouth. I let it drift about my tongue, then leaned slightly forward and let it slip out. I swirled my glass until I couldn’t distinguish it from the others.
    In the living room, someone shrieked and said, “Turn that thing off! I look terrible!”
    â€œAh, shut up. You know you love it,” a guy said. Stuart Hill, who was apparently making the rounds with his video camera again. I’d seen him with it earlier in the night.
    The tension in my chest started to loosen—the party people were
there
, and I was
here
—and I had the thought that I couldstay hidden behind the island forever. It was clean. It was dry. It was actually quite comfortable. I raised my glass and slurped in another ice oval, then choked as I heard feet pad across the tiled kitchen floor.
    â€œâ€”in common at all,” a girl was saying. “I’m just so tired of it.”
    I swallowed the ice and drew my knees up as far as I could.
    There was the hiss of an opened pop top. A second girl said, “Tell me about it. All I think about is what a good girlfriend I would be, if only I got the chance.”
    I breathed as quietly as I could. The first girl was Sukie Karing, I was pretty sure. And the second girl was Pammy Varlotta, another junior. I could tell by the way she pronounced her Ts, as if her tongue was too big for her mouth.
    â€œI mean, seriously,” Pammy went on. “How sad is that?”
    A third girl laughed. Even before she spoke, I knew who it was.
    â€œDead sad,” Bitsy said. “If you want a boy, Pammy, you’ve got to go out and get yourself one. None of this lurking about feeling sorry for yourself.”
    Shit, shit, shit.
Sweat beaded the nape of my neck.
    â€œEasy for you to say,” Sukie said. “You’ve got boys drooling over you every time you turn around.”
    â€œWell …” Bitsy said.
    â€œBut she’s with Brad now,” Pammy interjected. “Right, Bitsy? And I’m
so
happy for you. You’re such a great couple.”
    â€œYeah? You don’t think he’s a bit flash?” Bitsy asked.
    â€œOh my god, he’s the hottest guy in school,” Pammy said. “Not to mention the fact that he totally worships you.”
    Even in my nervousness, I gagged at what a suck-up Pammy was. On the other hand, if I were in her place, I’d probably be licking Bitsy’s boots, too. If Bitsy were wearing boots. If it were a shoe-possible environment.
    â€œThere is that,” Bitsy said. A chip bag rustled. “I suppose I’ll keep him a little longer.”
    â€œGood, because we don’t want you single again, that’s for sure,”