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Read book online Β«Dragon Girl by Melissa Nichols (some good books to read txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Melissa Nichols



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I used to work together at a local restaurant, which is how we met, but he spent this last summer helping his uncle with the construction business.

 

"Josie!" Lavender shrieks as she races forward. I immediately drop my bag, open my arms, brace my feet apart, and harden the bones in my skull. As usual, Lavender takes a flying leap, landing in my arms and we fall backwards. My head slaps against the concrete and I could feel the pain lancing through my skull. But my bones and brain are unharmed, which is the real goal behind my secret ability.

 

Without missing a beat, the three of us break into laughs and Lavender latches onto me. I hug her back forcefully, laughing even though I'd usually yell at her about hurting someone with her tackle. I always go easy with her on the first day since I haven't seen her and I couldn't have missed her more.

 

"Okay, okay. Come on, Lav, you're going to choke her to death." Jazz intervenes, approaching us to pull Lavender off of me. She whines and grips me harder, but gives in to Jazz's sensible reminder. Jazz help us both up, and he and I chuckle at our friend together.

 

"So, what have you been doing this summer, Lav?"

 

"It was awful! I had five academic classes a day and a dancing class afterwards! There was so much homework, and it was all due the next day."

 

"Yikes!" Jazz grimaces. "That's scary."

 

"The worst part was the curriculum. All of the academics are about social etiquette, or accounting, and boring stuff like that. And the dance class? The instructor was stuck in the 1600s and he only taught us Victorian ballroom dances; the ones that are five minutes long per piece. And then, towards the middle of the semester, the guys came in and we had to practice talking with our partners during the dance! We had only one partner per dance and we couldn't dance with the same boy twice. So we had to have the same conversation over and over. And don't even get me started on the final exam! It lasted for an entire week! Besides the exams for our classes during the day, there was a full-length gala each night, and we'd have to dance only one piece the entire time, with boys from a different school each night. So more of the same boring conversation, the same boring dance, and little to no sleep because of studying. The first night, I thought my feet would fall off. By the end of the week, I thought I'd die!"

 

"How is that treatment legal? Doesn't that classify as unnecessary physical and emotional strain on a minor?"

 

"Well, it's over now and we have the same steady homework pattern we've had since freshman year. It'll be a breeze. Oh, yeah! Schedule Check!" I dig out my schedule from my pocket and show it to my friends as they did the same.

 

"Okay," I mutter, having found one common class with Jazz and one with Lavender. "It's better than having no classes together."

 

"What are we talking about?" Someone asks as they grab my shoulders from behind, where I couldn't see them. I jump in the same moment I swing my arm, unconsciously trying to connect with Bellatrix.

 

Bellatrix, who I'd nicknamed Bella, is the only one brave - or stupid - enough to sneak up behind me. The others had learned that I get violent when I'm taken by surprise, which usually resulted in someone getting hurt. Yet Bella still does it. She's either quick to forget, or she enjoys the adrenaline rush that comes with dodging my accidentally-lethal counterattack.

 

"Dammit, Bella!" I roar as I chase after her until I swat her back a couple times. "Stop sneaking up on me! You know I could hurt you."

 

"Aww, but it's so much fun! I love seeing you get ruffled." The green-eyed brunette replies in her typical sing-song voice.

 

Bella half-sang everything to control her stutter. It had caused a lot of strife in the beginning, and Bella has lost several friends over it. But she's grateful for it now; if they hadn't blown up at her the way they had, she wouldn't have seen they were awful for her. It's also had some impressive results in her singing, which will help since she's decided to pursue acting as her career.

 

"You won't be saying that if you don't duck fast enough next time." I speak more gently now. I've gotten my revenge and she's had her fun. I open my arms as she draws closer and hug her.

 

"You'd have to hit me first."

 

"Whatever. Okay, so, how was your summer?"

 

"I went to the cafe, like, every day. It was so great!"

 

"Sweet. Did you find someone?"

 

"I did!"

 

"No way! Tell me about him."

 

Bella hangs out at this cafe in town. She loves everything about it; the ambiance, the menu, the prices. It's also a popular hotspot for teenagers. She's been looking for a boyfriend for two years now, someone outside our school because all of our guys - except Jazz, Ryan and Cedric - are jerks. She figured that cafe would be the best place to look on an average day. Sounds like she was right.

 

"Well, his name is Derek and he's so cute! He's into sports and he's the captain of his school's varsity basketball team. He goes to -" The bell rings just then, cutting her off. "Aw, man! No way! Well, I'll see you at lunch."

 

"See ya, Bella." Everyone dives for their backpacks and rush towards their first class.

 

Since the first class of my day is Study Hall, there isn't much in the way of a " Welcome Back!' speech or a syllabus. To pass the class we have to present our plans for the day as we walk in and provide proof of progress when we leave. After two full years of day-to-day dedication to my homework, I'm almost exempt from this rule.

 

Once the late bell rings, the teacher pulls out her clipboard and takes roll. As usual, my name is at the bottom of the list.

 

"Josephine Wickham?"

 

"Here!"

 

"That's it for roll. Welcome back, everyone. I think I already know the answer but I will ask anyway. Who wants to decorate their parking spot?" A bunch of hands go up, but not mine. I didn't qualify. But that didn't mean I couldn't go with them and take advantage of the morning air.

 

The teacher sighs and grabs the keys.

 

The school assigns each student - who has either a driver's learner permit or a driver's license, and a car, and they have to pay a fee - a parking spot for the year so they don't have to fight with the parents who park to drop off their kids, or teenagers who couldn't afford the fee. Since the spot is ours, and the school likes to repave the asphalt each summer, the students are allowed to paint their spot. It gives every student a chance to be creative, to express themselves, and it brings color to the otherwise drab school.

 

 

 

 

Once we hit the asphalt, the students split up and rush for their spots. I sit down on a bench in the shade nearby, turning to a fresh page in my sketchbook. Slowly but surely, a brilliant idea comes to mind, one that calls to my imagination like my bedroom mural does; its dragon-themed.

 

I take up my light gray pencil and start to outline. It takes nearly all the time we have, but I'm finally satisfied with the image taking shape before me.

 

Five minutes later the teacher calls us in.

 

After an hour of listening to the teacher in my next class drawl on, the bell finally releases us. I pack away the new syllabus - which is ten pages thick with protocols and policies and not so much on what we will learn - and bolt out the door. This is break, my first chance for food all day. Since I packed my food this morning, I didn't have to spend ten minutes waiting in line at the kiosks. But I stop at the vending machines to pick up a couple bottles of my favorite sports drink.

 

As I slide the last quarter into the slot, I feel a body press up against me and hands wrap around my stomach. I jump out of my skin at the sudden contact, and prepare to swing, but I relax as I recognize the arms that hold me, and a familiar cologne wafts on the breeze. I'd know that scent anywhere; Ryan.

 

"Hey, baby."

 

"Hey, you. I haven't heard from you all summer." Ryan whispers in my ear as his hands land on my hips. I only have a few seconds to enjoy it before I have to bend down to retrieve my drinks and my backpack.

 

"I told you that would be the case, didn't I? I was too busy with my job."

 

"Yeah, you warned me. Which is why I want to catch up tonight over dinner and a movie. What do you say?" He grabs both of my drinks out of my hands, holding one in each hand. He opens one bottle with just two fingers. He's strong even by my standards, but he doesn't like to flaunt it. He wears loose clothes to hide his bulging muscles, and he's still so gentle. It's a combination I love because I know Ryan is harmless towards me. If he were anyone else, however, those bulging muscles would be trouble...as long as I'm in my human form, anyway.

 

"I say dinner and a movie could be arranged. Which movie were you thinking of?" I accept the drink he offers and take a sip.

 

"Why don't you pick?"

 

"Are you sure about that? It could lead to some trouble."

 

As we get clear of the line, Ryan pulls me into his embrace again and kisses me, suddenly and soundly. I melt against him immediately and almost cry when he pulls away.

 

"I trust you."

 

"Well. Look who's cruising for a burning." I using a line from an old romantic teen-centric comedy we have both loved since before we knew what half of the themes were. My cheesy, hastily adapted line earns me a smile and a quick but searing kiss.

 

When we break apart again, I touch our foreheads together and stroke his cheek with my green nails, using just the sharpened tips. I could feel him shiver as I trace his jawline, and my heart skips a beat in a way I couldn't quite name.

 

"Guess you missed me. All right, then. There's this movie at the drive-in I've been wanting to see. You game?"

 

"You bet! Name the time and I'll pick you up."

 

Just as he finishes, we come close enough to our friends for them to greet us. But this time, there are two more friends in the circle.

Andrea is the youngest in the group, a sophomore now. Unlike the rest of us, she isn't into drama. She prefers choir, and she is the most talented singer in the alto section. Where the rest of the group is dark, Andrea is light. She doesn't like black as much as the rest of us do because it's the same color group as her skin, so she prefers to wear white along with a second color. Today, that color is a pastel green, which is present only in her shirt. The rest of her is pure white, except for the choker at her throat. She wears a particular spike choker with a heart for a clasp she wears in the front, and she owns several colors in the same style; today's choker is a neon green that balances out the pastel in her shirt. She also wears a longer necklace, but no one's seen what the necklace holds. All we know is it's a black leather strand she keeps tucked inside her shirt.

 

Our other friend who hadn't shown up this morning is Cedric. He was born in another country, but his surgeon parents immigrated here two years ago to take a better job. It was a

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