American Werewolves HTML version
something flash across his blue eyes that I can’t put my finger on. He looks
so tanned. I’m almost jealous.
“Yeah, sure. See you later,” he says quickly, distracted. He
disappears into the crowd, leaving me staring after him.
I went through the day like I was in a daze, occasionally seeing
Adam or Carmen in the hall and trying to keep up with all the AP classes
my step-dad signed me up for. I’m going to punch him the day I
graduate. Just four and half months to go.
I stop at my locker, waiting until the last minute to enter McAllister’s
classroom. My brother Ben caused a lot of trouble in his class so I’m pretty
sure he’ll hate me. Hope won’t change anything but I still hope anyway.
I jump, nearly dropping my math book on my foot. “Deon, you
scared me,” I accuse when I see Deons’ familiar honey brown hair sticking
out of his hood.
“Sorry. Just thought I’d say hi,” he pretends to be offended. Me,
Deon, Adam and Carmen have been friends since we all got put at the
same table in Mrs. Hadley’s 3rd grade class. I still haven’t figured him out.
I straighten, “Hi.”