Read MILA Origins 2.0 - The Fire for Free Online
Authors: Debra Driza
emerged. After he told her where his next class was—Room 132, Mr. Chesky—she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him along like a reluctant pull toy. I followed on her other side as she navigated us down the hall.
“So, you’re from San Diego? What’s it like there? Awesome, I bet. Do you surf?”
I peeked in front of Kaylee and watched Hunter tug his earlobe before responding.
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “If you don’t surf, you don’t graduate.”
Kaylee’s eyes widened. “No way, really?”
A twitch of his lips gave him away. She squealed. “Oh my gosh, you’re evil! Mila, can you believe this guy? He’s barely here for three seconds and he’s already teasing me!”
And now, all of Clearwater High knew about it, since Kaylee’s voice echoed down the corridor.
I coughed to cover my laugh. For all her good grades, Kaylee could really act dim-witted around boys, but they usually never called her on it.
Until now.
In her typical babble-a-thon manner, Kaylee managed to quiz Hunter on everything from whether he owned a pet—no—to his favorite singer—Jack Johnson—before we’d even turned the corner. Of course, his monosyllabic answers gave her plenty of time to talk.
Instead of listening to her, I watched him. He walked gracefully, like an athlete. He had a tiny mole on his left cheek, just where a dimple would be, and whenever Kaylee asked him a question that seemed this side of too personal—like, did he get along with his parents—he looked down at the ground before responding.
About five doors away from his drop-off spot, she finally abandoned the one-sided questioning and launched into telling him all about us.
“I’m from here, born and raised. Sad, isn’t it? But Mila’s not. Poor thing moved here from Philly a few weeks ago, when her dad died. We’ve been buds ever since,” she said, hooking her arm through mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
“When her dad died…”
I stiffened. Great. Unintentional or not, she’d managed to up my pathetic quotient and spew private details of my life, all in a few breezy sentences.
“Right,” I mumbled. Hunter stopped walking, which had a domino effect since Kaylee currently linked the three of us into some kind of crazy human chain. Kaylee jerked to a stop first, then me. I looked up to see Hunter staring atme over the top of her frizzy head.
“Sorry.”
Sorry. That was all he said. It was what he didn’t say that spoke volumes. He didn’t try to change the subject, or make hasty excuses to leave, the way Kaylee’s friends usually did.
For once, I didn’t feel like having a dead parent was contagious. “Thanks.”
The slam of a nearby locker interrupted us.
“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Kaylee’s voice sounded this side of sulky while her hand tugged on us, prompting the human chain back into motion. “Oh, look. There’s Parker and Ella.” If possible, she sounded even less enthusiastic than before, and I watched in surprise as she ducked her head. Too late. The girls saw us.
Hunter’s head whipped up. I had a sudden impression of a deer in the headlights. I guess the idea of two more girls converging on him was too much to bear. Not that I could blame him, I thought, watching Parker flounce over in skinny jeans, while Ella trotted her shorter legs to keep up. It was kind of like watching a pack of piranhas descend on a particularly tasty fish.
“My classroom,” Hunter said, before breaking free and loping ahead.
“Hey, will we see you at lunch?” Kaylee called after him.
He mumbled something about “dunno—forms to fill out” before escaping to the sanctuary of Room 132.
The instant he disappeared around the corner, Kayleeturned on the girls with a fierce scowl. “Less obvious next time, okay?”
I blinked. How could they be any more obvious than Kaylee herself?
But I held my tongue as Kaylee launched into a blow-by-blow of our march down the hall, instead following
“So, you’re from San Diego? What’s it like there? Awesome, I bet. Do you surf?”
I peeked in front of Kaylee and watched Hunter tug his earlobe before responding.
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “If you don’t surf, you don’t graduate.”
Kaylee’s eyes widened. “No way, really?”
A twitch of his lips gave him away. She squealed. “Oh my gosh, you’re evil! Mila, can you believe this guy? He’s barely here for three seconds and he’s already teasing me!”
And now, all of Clearwater High knew about it, since Kaylee’s voice echoed down the corridor.
I coughed to cover my laugh. For all her good grades, Kaylee could really act dim-witted around boys, but they usually never called her on it.
Until now.
In her typical babble-a-thon manner, Kaylee managed to quiz Hunter on everything from whether he owned a pet—no—to his favorite singer—Jack Johnson—before we’d even turned the corner. Of course, his monosyllabic answers gave her plenty of time to talk.
Instead of listening to her, I watched him. He walked gracefully, like an athlete. He had a tiny mole on his left cheek, just where a dimple would be, and whenever Kaylee asked him a question that seemed this side of too personal—like, did he get along with his parents—he looked down at the ground before responding.
About five doors away from his drop-off spot, she finally abandoned the one-sided questioning and launched into telling him all about us.
“I’m from here, born and raised. Sad, isn’t it? But Mila’s not. Poor thing moved here from Philly a few weeks ago, when her dad died. We’ve been buds ever since,” she said, hooking her arm through mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
“When her dad died…”
I stiffened. Great. Unintentional or not, she’d managed to up my pathetic quotient and spew private details of my life, all in a few breezy sentences.
“Right,” I mumbled. Hunter stopped walking, which had a domino effect since Kaylee currently linked the three of us into some kind of crazy human chain. Kaylee jerked to a stop first, then me. I looked up to see Hunter staring atme over the top of her frizzy head.
“Sorry.”
Sorry. That was all he said. It was what he didn’t say that spoke volumes. He didn’t try to change the subject, or make hasty excuses to leave, the way Kaylee’s friends usually did.
For once, I didn’t feel like having a dead parent was contagious. “Thanks.”
The slam of a nearby locker interrupted us.
“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Kaylee’s voice sounded this side of sulky while her hand tugged on us, prompting the human chain back into motion. “Oh, look. There’s Parker and Ella.” If possible, she sounded even less enthusiastic than before, and I watched in surprise as she ducked her head. Too late. The girls saw us.
Hunter’s head whipped up. I had a sudden impression of a deer in the headlights. I guess the idea of two more girls converging on him was too much to bear. Not that I could blame him, I thought, watching Parker flounce over in skinny jeans, while Ella trotted her shorter legs to keep up. It was kind of like watching a pack of piranhas descend on a particularly tasty fish.
“My classroom,” Hunter said, before breaking free and loping ahead.
“Hey, will we see you at lunch?” Kaylee called after him.
He mumbled something about “dunno—forms to fill out” before escaping to the sanctuary of Room 132.
The instant he disappeared around the corner, Kayleeturned on the girls with a fierce scowl. “Less obvious next time, okay?”
I blinked. How could they be any more obvious than Kaylee herself?
But I held my tongue as Kaylee launched into a blow-by-blow of our march down the hall, instead following