Out of Luck by Julie Steimle (to read list .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Julie Steimle
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Before the crack of dawn. The early hours. My surfing time.
Just as it was getting warm enough so that I could go surfing in the morning again without my mother ragging on me for it being too cold, I had to give it up. It was only for one day. But still, I was so cranky when I had to get up, throw on my uniform for flags and gather with the rest of the team at the start of the parade line for St. Patty’s Day that I forgot to bring my Celtic dance costume and a change of clothes for later. Dawn told me I would regret losing my temper like that.
“Oh, shut up!” I folded my arms as we got out of the car, stomping my boots on the pavement as we all gathered at the edge of town not far from the airfield.
“I’m telling you,” my blonde, perfectly gorgeous, sister said, sounding superior for once. She rarely got to rag on me for things. Usually it was her taking the brunt of chastisement from our mom. “You’ll have to go back home after the parade, and you’ll miss out on all the fun.”
There was a carnival at the town park where the parade was supposed to end.
I glanced over at the green and white carnation speckled floats where Darla O’Brady was adjusting her strapless dress so it would stay up while she waved at the crowd as this year’s Miss Lucky Clover. Our town really did over do St. Patrick’s day, but since over half the population was either Irish or Scottish that was to be expected.
“It won’t take long to go back for stuff.”
But Dawn gave me a dry look. “But you’ll be exhausted from—”
“What are you doing? Get some sun block on!” Our flag coach strode over to us, holding the quart sized pump-top bottle. “Especially you, Eve McAllister. You’ll end up like a lobster.”
“I already have mine,” I said, and I lifted my extra sensitive skin SPF 90 bottle up. It was formulated for albinos, though technically I wasn’t really albino. I had black hair.
My coach gave a glance at my white skin and then looked up at my eyes, which in this dark morning light glowed somewhat red since I was hungry. I could see her shudder.
“Eat something!” Dawn shoved one of the breakfast burritos our mother had handed to her into my hands.
I took it and did as she told me. If I didn’t, I’d creep the entire flag team out. Not that my regular orange eyes didn’t do that. But when they changed red, I got an extra unpleasant reaction that I really didn’t want to deal with.
Our coach saw my eyes turn back to orange, and she sighed somewhat. Turing away her head, she said. “Get your flags and start practicing.” Then she glanced back at me. “And you had better perfect that routine for the majorette competition. You know Patricia Davish is graduating this year.”
I blinked at her, taking another bite of my burrito before nodding. “Of course I know. I have the routine all figured out.”
“You have stiff competition,” she said with a fixed look on me. “You must perform excellently or you’ll lose your chance to be the school majorette.”
Stiff competition, my eye. It was between Megan McGillicutti and myself, and Megan was a lousy majorette. She dropped the baton half the time because she never kept her eyes on it, and she refused to use the flaming batons even though it was tradition at our school to have the flaming batons at Homecoming. The only reason why Megan McGillicutti was even being considered was that she was a normal flirtatious sort of girl, and I was not. In fact, as most people suspected it, I wasn’t even human. However, I, without it bragging, am an amazing baton twirler. I never miss, and I love those flaming batons. Besides that, our school has won ten years in a row at the majorette competitions in our state. We have no desire to lose even if it meant giving me the job. So really, the pressure was on Megan to beat me. My lack of popularity, besides a few other oddities, was my only failing in this case.
“I’ll do my best,” I said. I knew my coach wanted someone who was good at it, regardless of how I creeped her out.
“You’d better.” And she walked off.
With a sigh, I turned and finished eating my breakfast burrito.
The band gathered at one end of the open lot. I saw the floats from each of the businesses add their finishing touches. And as I meandered through them to get my school flag, I toured the floats. Danae’s Floral had provided most of the flowers, always making a killing from this holiday. She would be selling green dyed carnations to the crowd as well as potted shamrocks in her booth at the carnival. However, her float was the most spectacular, practically a bower of flowers surrounding one huge and somewhat sparkly shamrock where she would be sitting and waving to everyone, throwing out candy to the children. The chamber of commerce had a float right next to it, covered in its own green flowers shaped into large dollar bills. A man dressed as George Washington was to stand in the center throwing out candy coins. My dad’s dentist’s shop had a small float. He used it every year. The dental hygienists walked around with the small go-cart shaped like a tooth that my dad drove. The only flowers they wore were on their lapels. They passed out sugar free candy, dental gum, and cheap toothbrushes.
The flags were stashed in a bin next to the band bus. I went over and took mine out.
“Creepy,” I heard someone say. I knew they were talking about me.
“Why doesn’t she wear her sunglasses all the time? I hear she can see in the dark with them on,” another person said.
I tried to ignore it, turning to go back to where the flag girls were gathering.
“But you have to admit, she’s tons better than Megan at baton.”
“Quickest hands in the business. But ooh, creepy.”
I glanced their way. It was just them talking. Their imps, who no one saw but me and normally flew about people’s heads suggesting naughty things for them to, were floating somewhat groggy, rubbing their eyes and as if it was way too early to get up. That was another thing I loved about early mornings. Imps are too tired to suggest pranks until people are more awake themselves. These girls’ remarks were how they really felt without the imps’ influence.
They saw my look, but I continued on, deciding it was best not to aggravate the situation.
Joining the team, I took my spot and started to practice the basic routine.
“Where have you been?” Megan had such a snotty voice, I felt like ignoring her. She was a junior where as I was a lowly freshman, another thing she had above me since the judges would prefer to make a coming senior the majorette for next year than a sophomore that would reign for the next three years.
But I turned and winked one of my orange eyes at her, tossing my black hair back from my face. “I was loitering. Care to arrest me?”
Her dad was a cop. Nobody big, but when we were kids she used to threaten me with her dad, saying she’d get him to arrest me. Back then, I had believed that she actually could do that. I hadn’t liked her since. However, now she had nothing to hold over me.
“Eve!” Dawn stomped over to where I was. She stuck her hands on her hips and scowled at me. “Where have you been? I have to fix your hair.”
I just shrugged and walked over to my sister, letting Dawn drag me away by the arm so she could brush my hair and braid it perfectly. My hair was stick straight. There was no way in the world we could make it look fitting for an Irish festival except braid it. Dawn’s hair curled and she could make them into beautiful Shirley Temple spirals. All she had to do after was add a bow. With us standing off together like this, we looked as different as night and day. Or as Dad put it, the evening and the dawn. He liked puns.
“Leave Megan alone,” Dawn hissed in my ear. “She is planning to sabotage you in any way possible.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I gave her a look. Dawn knew I saw and heard the imps. She knew they suggested evil things for people to do. Megan’s had been making evil suggestions for weeks. It was obvious that she was worried she’d lose the competition.
“Yeah, yeah. But sometimes you walk around like a naïve kid.” She yanked my hair a little to hard as she twisted it around the other piece in her hand. “I wouldn’t put it past her to dump garlic in your lunch without you knowing it. If you swelled up and went to the hospital today, she’d win, and our school would lose this next year’s competition.”
I gave her a dirty look. “She doesn’t know I’m allergic to garlic.”
Dawn gave me pat on my head as if I were a simpleton. “Yes, she does. She found out from the school nurse. I overheard.”
Grimacing, I slumped over somewhat. The last thing I needed was more people who knew my weaknesses. It was bad enough having my History teacher watching me like a hawk. He was former vampire hunter. And though it was useful having him in town to keep the vampires in the mountains away from this area, it was quite another thing waiting for him to think up some scheme that could legally circumvent the court order my father took out against him so he could not kill me. Ick.
“You have got to be more careful,” Dawn said.
“I will.” But I was already sulking. I hated this part of my life. I always had to be careful.
Our coach marched out from the crowd and called to us. Dawn finished tying the other green bow over the rubber band that secured my braid, and she hopped on over to where her position was.
“Ok, ladies! We are to lead out before the band. Remember, you are to follow Patricia. When she pauses at a checkpoint, you pause. You know the routine. Don’t flub it up.”
“But it’s so cold!” I heard Donna from my third period class call back.
I turned my head and saw her rubbing her arms. A
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