Miscreants: Next Generation by Natalie Bennett (classic books for 7th graders TXT) 📕

“I’m Ciaran,” he introduced himself, as if he’d just plucked the thought of me not knowing him from my head.

“Maverick.” The guy beside him leaned forward with a smile, offering a small wave after he palmed a few loose strands of hair. His dark eyes lingered on Melantha for a full two seconds before he leaned back.

“The two assholes behind us are Charon and Kyrous,” Ciaran continued.

His introduction invoked their laughter, but neither of them looked away from what they were staring at. With him disclosing all their names, it seemed only natural to share ours in return.

I pointed to each of the girls. “Gracelyn. Melantha.” Then I motioned to myself. “Liliana, but everyone calls me Lana for short.”

“I knew a Liliana once,” Ciaran mused. “You’re much prettier than she was.”

“Wow. That was kinda smooth,” Gracelyn jested with a laugh.

“You should hear when I’m actually trying,” he countered, tacking on a playful smile.

I was semi-confused. Was that meant to be a compliment? I mean, I thought I was okay looking—cute, even.

My mother’s Hispanic roots had evenly meshed with my father’s Italian genes. My hair was black as coal, long with soft waves. Eyes were almond brown. Skin naturally bronze, much to Melantha’s dismay since her porcelain pigmentation refused to darken.

I stood barely over five feet tall, and while my stomach was mostly flat, I’d inherited my mama’s hips with an ass that jiggled to match. I didn’t have self-esteem issues or anything, but I was acutely aware of how I looked in that very moment.

Yesterday I’d been glammed up and ready to take on the world.

Now? I didn’t have on a stitch of make-up aside from some lip gloss. My red-bottomed heels, along with a hoochiefied bodycon dress, had been swapped for skinny fit sweats, a crop-top, and some retro Js. The only thing going for me was that I’d taken a quick hoe-bath and brushed my hair right before zombie-walking onto this shuttle.

“Were you three staying at the Royal Palms?” one of the guys behind Ciaran asked.

“No. We snuck on here to hitch a free ride to the airport because we blew all our money on coke and dick,” Melantha deadpanned.

Her tone was so casual, it would be easy to miss that she was being a smartass.

Grace sighed and shook her head, hiding a smile in the palm of her hand. We couldn’t even be embarrassed; this was simply Mel being Mel. We’d had plenty of time to get used to it.

I looked between the two guys, trying to determine who was whom. I remembered their names, seeing as Ciaran had just introduced them, but I hadn’t realized they were twins. There were subtle differences between them. One had amber eyes, while the others were nearly the same shade as whiskey. Their hair was styled a tad bit differently too.

Unfortunately, none of that helped me determine who was Charon and which one was Kyrous. The twin closest to the window looked as if he were about to say something just as sarcastic in response, but the shuttle suddenly swerved without warning.

A horn blared from another lane as a mix of gasps, a small squeal, and curse words filled the air.

I gripped the leather headrest in front of me to stay planted in my seat. Once we were moving forward steadily again, I quickly checked over Gracelyn and Melantha.

“What was that about?” Maverick wondered aloud.

As if to answer him personally, the music stopped, and the driver’s voice came through the overhead speakers. “Uh, really sorry about that, folks. The usual route’s shut down. I guess we’ll be taking a small detour.”

Someone up front, a man with greying hair, began to complain.

The driver cut him off, still broadcasting his voice through the speaker.

“Rest assured this will only add about ten minutes to the ride. I know you’ve all got flights to catch—you can count on me to get you exactly where ya need to be.”

He clicked off, and music began to play once more.

“He guesses?” a twin scoffed.

Ciaran said something in response, but I was hardly paying him attention. I was too concerned about our suddenly reckless driver. Gracelyn gave me a tight-lipped smile, attempting to downplay her own concerns for my benefit.

We cruised past the turnoff we should’ve taken and continued for a good ten minutes before the shuttle turned onto a side road. After another two miles or so, it became apparent that all signs of civilization were being left behind.

It took me another five minutes to notice that there were no longer any other cars accompanying us.

“This isn’t right, Lana,” Gracelyn whispered.

I didn’t have a good feeling about this either.

I wanted to chalk it up to us being overdramatic, but I knew to always trust my instincts. The further we ventured, the worse my nerves caused my stomach to twist. This was more than acute paranoia.

There was a sign coming up on the right. I peered around Gracelyn to get a clearer look at it. “Route Six-One-Six,” I read out loud as we zipped passed it.

Gracelyn turned towards Melantha. “GPS how far the airport is from here.”

“Already on it.”

The shuttle took another turn, and someone up front demanded to know where we were going.

“What the fuck’s that?” one of the twins asked. I peered over my shoulder and then straight ahead to follow his gaze, poking my head around the seat in front of me so I had an unobstructed view.

We were heading straight for a tunnel. A rather large one.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have been anything to panic over, but it wasn’t dark enough to overlook the vast blanket of white that seemed to be emanating from within it.

The driver kept going, his speed gradually increasing. I didn’t understand why. There was