Read Overworld Chronicles Books 1-2: Sweet Blood of Mine & Dark Light of Mine for Free Online Page B

weren't so horrible after all. By the time I finished the first six-pack, things seemed great. In fact, my mind felt clearer than ever about what I needed to do. I went into the garage and grabbed another six-pack. Time to put my plans into motion.
     

Chapter 6
     
    I woke up on the floor, a metric ton of agony using my aching body like a hammock. Icepicks greeted my brain as I staggered to my feet and grabbed the ibuprofen bottle from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal to fill the gnawing void in my stomach.
    Captain Tibbs hopped atop the table and gave me a disapproving look.
    "Why didn't you stop me?" I said, popping several ibuprofen tablets into my mouth.
    He stared at me with luminous green eyes, and I figured I had lost some of his respect for drinking as much as I had last night.
    My phone chimed. I looked for it and finally found it under my computer desk. Another crack had joined the first one on the touchscreen. I was amazed it even worked.
    I had several text messages waiting. Had Katie tried to get in touch last night? Had she ditched Brad and decided she wanted to be with me after all? Only in fantasy land. Harry, Mark, Katie, and a couple of people I hadn't spoken with in months had sent me texts. Apparently I was about to receive a few apologies.
    Save the best for last, I decided, and opened Harry's first.
    Screw you.
    Short and to the point. I looked at the text thread and choked when I saw what I'd written him last night. It wasn't just one text, it was a freaking essay. And it was stuff from the darkest, nastiest recesses of my mind. I'd copied Mark and the other two people I hadn't spoken with for a while. Why, I didn't know, unless it was an act of drunken inaccuracy. Mark's reply was pretty close to Harry's, just a little longer and nastier. I looked at the texts from the other people. One advised anger management and the other simply replied, WTF?
    I couldn't bring myself to look at Katie's text. Oh God, what had I written her? I wracked my brain but I couldn't remember a thing…except—crap. I remembered doing something on Facebook. I opened Katie's text and felt the cereal I'd eaten claw its way back up my throat. I shuddered as I read.
    Sent: 12:03AM: what no reply?
    Sent: 12:05AM: You stupid hoor.
    Sent: 12:06AM: I haet u
    Sent: 12:07AM: and stupid brad
    And those were just the first few. They got worse until the legibility and word order resembled the incoherent ramblings of a dyslexic monkey. Some were just numbers and random characters. Katie didn't reply until around ten in the morning, at first asking if someone stole my phone and then cussing me out and telling me to leave her alone with no less than five F-bombs.
    My face went numb. What in the world had I done? I opened Facebook. I had only one status update around 1:00AM: Katie Johnson is Brad's dirty tramp . There were about thirty comments underneath, almost unanimously condemning me and several telling me to seek immediate help from a professional. People had posted random insults on my wall, some going so far as to threaten physical violence if I didn't stop bugging her. Out of my one-hundred or so friends, not a one came to my defense except Mike Gigrassio which didn't help at all, since people voted him most likely to become a pedophile. Not that I deserved anything but condemnation. I deleted my status update and set security so nobody could see my Facebook wall. I scrolled down my list of friends. Despair tore at my heart when I realized Katie was no longer there.
    Manic laughter edged with sobs erupted from my throat. My world had disintegrated overnight. I had to go back to school and face these people. I wanted to dig a hole, pull the dirt on top of me, and die.
    I started pacing my room. "Oh God. Oh my God. What am I gonna do?" Plastic surgery and a false identity seemed really good options.
    Captain Tibbs sat atop my computer desk and watched me with pity. See, I