Redwood High - Page 3

Standing at five feet four, I got my height from her, unlike my father, who had practically been a giant at six foot five. Another feature I got from my Mother was my figure.

Though not as fully developed as her mouth-watering curves, mine was a little too daring for a seventeen-year-old, although they sat well with my frame. The rest of me was from my Dad, except he had pale skin, while my cream skin was a mixture of both parents.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She nodded, her smile still in place. “Come on. You have to eat breakfast before I drop you off.”

I groaned; I should have known. If there was anything my Mom loved, it was cooking and feeding people, so instead of arguing, which I knew would get me nowhere, I trailed after her obediently and sat at the table to eat the perfect English breakfast she had whipped up.

“When do I get a car, Mom? I wouldn’t want you to get to your new job late because you have to drop me off every morning.”

I watched her closely, so I saw the shadow that fell briefly on my Mom’s face. “I’m perfectly fine with dropping you off at school every morning, Katrina. I think you’re going to be fine without a car for now,” she said, putting her smile firmly back in place.

“But Mom, we talke

d about this,” I protested. “You promised to get me one when I began my senior year.”

“I changed my mind, okay? You don’t need a car.” Her sharp tone cut through the air around us, causing my spine to go rigid.

I nodded, and the rest of our breakfast was eaten in silence.

Twenty minutes later, my Mom’s BMW rolled into the Redwood High School parking lot. As I reached to open the door, I felt her hand rest on my arm.

I turned to look at her. “Yes, Mom?”

Her face took on a remorseful look. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, Katrina. It’s just I don’t know this town that well, and I need to be sure it would be safe enough for you to drive around in before I got you a car.”

I placed my hand over hers, understanding the real reason she had snapped. After all, my father’s car had ended up off the road and at the bottom of a lake.

“It’s okay, Mom, I understand,” I reassured her with a smile and a quick kiss on her cheek before opening the door and stepping out.

“Katrina!”

I turned back.

“Make friends, okay?”

I nodded, not so sure of myself before striding toward the entrance.

Make friends, huh? That was the one thing I sucked at the most.

Chapter 4

My head was spinning, and it had everything to do with the piece of paper I had clutched in my hand. I adjusted the strap of my satchel and walked down the hall for what seemed like the millionth time. How hard could it be to find Room 401?

It would have been nice if the receptionist had given me directions alongside my schedule. Instead, the red-headed woman who couldn’t be bothered had merely handed the paper to me as her gaze focused on the computer game she had been playing.

“Ugh,” I groaned out in frustration, but then I spotted a sign that pointed the way to a row of rooms containing 401.

Following the sign, I scanned for 401, but I stopped when I reached one particular room, not because it was the right one, but because of its occupant.

A boy dressed in clothing similar to mine except for his heavy dark boots stood peering into a beaker filled with green liquid and judging from the ingredients he had lying around on the desk, I knew exactly what kind of experiment he was conducting.

I pushed open the door just as he muttered something under his breath and shoved back his brown hair in impatience. He stiffened when I stopped at the desk next to him.

“If you add the ammonia after adding the rest, it’s going to keep giving you that slimy green color,” I told him. “You have to add it before.”

The boy slowly raised his head and stared at me with deep green eyes that possessed so much intensity that it felt like I was transfixed under a spell.

Tags: Emily Walker Dark
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