Read Almost Demon (The Sigil Cycle) for Free Online Page B

pleasure of being the target of a barrage of dodge balls. 
    After changing out of my gym clothes, I met Charlotte in the hallway. She had opted for a more demure look of skin-tight jeans and a red velvet corset top. Definitely, the most clothing I’d seen her on her in school since fourth grade.
    “Guess what?” she said. 
    “Your cleavage got cast as the lead in the school play?”
    She had started developing first. I was still in the process of catching up.
    “Shut up. No, really. Try to guess.” Her pout was accentuated by high gloss pink lipstick.
    “I hate it when you pout,” I replied as I took out my wallet and shoved the rest of my bag in my locker. 
    “Well, aside from everyone talking about how you pulled a gun on the old librarian, I got the lead in the Broadway Revue.” 
    “I did not. It was the other way around!” I slammed the door to my locker and went straight to the cafeteria, dragging Charlotte along.
    “Just forget it, Gem.”
    “Easy for you to say.” I joined the line and ended up with a bagel and cream cheese while Charlotte got her usual chicken Caesar salad. 
    “Let’s go sit and you can vent to me all you like,” she said.
    As I was unwrapping the wax paper from my sandwich, someone elbowed me, sending my food underneath the table to my right. 
    “Please don’t shoot,” Allison said in mock terror. Her friends giggled like a cackle of hyenas. She parked herself on the bench while Matt took the empty spot next to her. I couldn’t get to my lunch now even if I was willing to salvage it. Which I wasn’t. The dust bunnies hiding under the baseboard heater and around the legs of the table extinguished any plans to follow the five-second rule.
    “Hey, Matt,” I said, my voice low.
    He didn’t reply and continued to inhale his meatball sub. I had always teased him about slowing down.
    “Go away, Gemma,” Allison snapped.
    Not having enough money to get something else, I gave up on the thought of lunch and joined Charlotte, who had snagged a spot in the back near the emergency exit doors and the window with the view of the field.
    “Why do you even listen to that bitch?” Charlotte asked, stabbing a crouton with her fork.
    “I can’t bring myself to be mean to her, no matter how badly I want to be. She’s kind of one of the only connections to Brian I have left. Hopefully, she’ll come around and stop being a perpetual hag.” I sighed, picking a piece of grilled chicken from her bowl. “But I don’t want to be a downer. Tell me about the play.” 
    I managed to find a smile for her, which sent Charlotte into a flurry of dialogue about the audition after drama class and the casting list that had been tacked up on the bulletin board first thing this morning.
    “Who knew so much work went into these things? But apparently Marcus really likes to put on a semi-professional production so he made everyone audition right away.” Her demeanor had turned remarkably serious. 
    Marcus, whom we all knew was born Marc Torres, was a fixture in Harrisport, always with the same olive green scarf around his neck, regardless of the weather, and newsboy hat concealing his male pattern baldness. He directed the two school performances and ran the Roundabout Community Theater. This year, with the help of private funding, Principal Kelly was able to add a drama class to the curriculum. 
    “I’m proud of you, Char.” 
    The rest of the day passed by in a slow wave of boredom. I spent my time analyzing my supernatural trip with Ian, who was nowhere to be found, and wondering if I should mention any of it to Charlotte. 
    I did perk up as soon as it was time for Mr. Flynn’s class, excited at the prospect of getting any information out of him that would help get rid of the ghosts that were beginning to become more of a nuisance. I sat down and rummaged through the endless stuff in my bag in search of a pen. 
    “Hey.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could make out Ian taking the