Read The Fallen Parler: Part One (A supernatural mystery thriller) for Free Online Page B

Delilah, then answering her own question replied, ‘my grandma on my mother’s side was Egyptian and my father is German…I’m basically a mix of everything.’
    Charlotte was astounded at the silliness of these girls and wondered if they were actually as daft as they appeared. ‘My dad is…well he was of Italian decent,’ she replied.
    ‘Cool,’ nodded Beau, ‘that must be why your skin is so soft and tan.’
    Flattery rarely fooled Charlotte, it didn’t take long for her to note the frequency with which Beau glanced to the back of the class. And, it didn’t take a genius to decipher that Beau was far more interested in the handsome young man at the back of the class, than the time on the clock above his head. Charlotte gave Beau the benefit of the doubt, but it wasn’t until second period, in English, that the assertive blonde girl came clean with her agenda.
    ‘Hey Charlotte, I was wondering if your brother is seeing anyone...anyone like a girlfriend?’
    ‘Nope he’s single, Beau.’
    Beau seemed pleased with Charlotte’s response; in less than no time a mischievous crescent-shaped smile worked across her face.
    ‘Charley, we are friends, right?’ said the rosy-cheeked blonde, ‘and friends do help each other out.’
    ‘Sure,’ Charlotte replied, her voice laced with heavy sarcasm.
    ‘It’s only fitting that your brother, being who he is, date the most popular girl in school.’
    Playing along, Charlotte gagged, ‘and who would that be?’
    ‘Me!’ cried Beau, batting her spindly lashes.
    If the word ‘conceited’ ever materialised, Charlotte was certain that it would look something like Beau Bennett. Her glossy blonde hair and rosy cheeks were a generous shell, beneath which lay something far less appealing. For the first two periods of the day, all Beau Bennett had been able to chatter over was Mona William’s hideous new hair style and, of course, Berty Prescott’s untrendy school shoes. Enough was enough.
    ‘My-brother-won’t-date-you. Ever.’ Charlotte mouthed the words generously, accentuating every vowel, loud enough for surrounding students to hear.
    ‘What do you mean?’ Beau squeaked, her cheeks reddening to an unsightly shade.
    ‘For the record, my brother doesn’t date highly conceited plastics,’ shot Charlotte.
    Beau Bennet’s eyes widened in their sockets; no one ever dared spe ak to her in such a manner. Her jaw had dropped a good few centimetres before Delilah smacked her hand over Beau’s mouth, reminding her to close it. In this time, Charlotte Roterbee had already gotten up, turned on her heels, and marched to a seat at the other side of the room. She could not stand to be in the presence of those girls another moment. The crime she had just committed was somewhere in the top five worst felonies of high school. And the punishment? Social suicide. Oddly, Charlotte could not give a care. Cliques, squads and groups…it was all irrelevant to her now. If it meant having to endure another hour in the company of those whom she had aptly nicknamed ‘plastics’, Charlotte would rather be cliqueless.
    News of Charlotte’s tough words against Beau Bennet spread through the school faster than it took to send one text message, as she could barely walk through the corridor without someone either scowling or smiling at her. Some people were divided on whether Charlotte Roterbee should’ve insulted Beau Bennett so directly, but for the larger part, people were grateful that the bully had finally met her match. When lunchtime arrived and Junior was nowhere to be seen, Charlotte hoped that one of her new found supporters would invite her to sit next to them, but everyone was too busy chattering in their cliques. Charlotte scanned the noisy dining hall in one slow twist of her neck. She located an empty bench pew and started towards it quickly. Determined to grab her seat, Charlotte took little notice of the tall brown skinned girl, who was also tracking the seat.