Scorpion Shards by Neal Shusterman Read Free Book Online Page B

school’s wallflower. One smile from Michael changed her nature considerably. He took her to the high bluff behind the lighthouse—the most easterly place—and there, to the sound of waves and the pulse of the spinning light arcing over their heads, Michael got down to business.
    Michael’s kisses were more frantic than passionate, more compulsive than romantic, but Melissa did not notice, for, as Michael knew, no one had ever kissed Melissa Brickle this way before, and her own new and overwhelming feelings blocked out everything else. Michael could feel himself trespassing in the dark places of her mind, releasing those feelings like wild beasts from a cage. A thin ground fog carpeted the grass around them, slipping off the cliff in a slow vapor fall. The mist seemed to be flowing from the two of them.
    Through it all, Michael’s mind and body were exploding with emotions. Frustration, anger, confusion all fought for control—but what he felt more than anything tonight was futility. No matter what he did, no matter how many girls he lured into secret corners—even if he took them all the way and absolutely gave in to all of his urges—he still would not be satisfied. Instead his urges would only increase—they would grow and drive him insane. Michael’s grip on Melissa grew stronger as they kissed—so strong that it must have been hurting her, but she didn’t notice. She wouldn’t notice even if Michael really did hurt her.
    â€œTighter,” she said. “Hold me tighter.”
    And as he tightened his grip, Michael came to understand that this frenzied necking was a violation of the girl. He had, in some way, entered this girl’s mind—he made her want allthe things that he could do to her, and this was a violation as real as any other. Michael was terrified of what he was turning into, and what awful things he might be capable of.
    Before it went too far, Michael pushed Melissa away.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” she asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
    She moved toward him again, then this shy, sweet girl slipped her hand into his jacket, and shirt, shamelessly rubbing his chest.
    Michael gently grabbed her hand and placed it back down in her lap. “Better stop,” he said.
    â€œBetter not,” she whispered. She tried to snuggle up to him, but Michael stood up.
    â€œJust go!” screamed Michael. “Get out of here!” But she did not move—so he reached down, picked up a clump of dirt and hurled it at her shoes.
    Confused and humiliated, Melissa ran off in tears.
    Good , thought Michael. Because there were worse things she could feel than humiliation.
    Soon the sound of her footfalls faded, and Michael was left alone with his bloated, malignant urges. But those urges could be killed, couldn’t they? The sound of the crashing ocean made him think of that. Those soul-searing urges that ate him alive could be destroyed by one single step east. Right now anything seemed better than having to feel That Way anymore.
    And so, before he knew what he was doing, Michael found himself leaning into the wind at the edge of the cliff, daring his balance to fail him, and gravity to pull him down to his end.
    â€œDo you really think anyone cares if you jump?”
    The voice came as such a shock, Michael almost did lose his balance. He stumbled backward, away from the cliff, intothe grass. His life did not so much flash before his eyes, as slap him in the face.
    â€œIf you jump, people might freak, but they’ll forget soon enough,” said a voice that was dense and wet, like liquid rubber. Lourdes Hidalgo lumbered out from behind a bush like a buffalo, and Michael wondered how long she had been watching.
    In truth, Lourdes had been watching from the moment Michael had brought Melissa to the bluff. Lourdes enjoyed watching the other kids make out—and wasn’t ashamed of it either. She had enough things to feel