Read Online Dark Angel; The Chosen; Soulmate by L.J. Smith - Free Book Online Page A

anymore. What did it matter what other people thought of her if she couldn’t have David? But she had a fundamentalfaith in Angel. Somehow things
had to
work out—if she just stayed calm and played her part.
    When the bell rang, she hurried away from Amy’s questioning eyes and into the bathroom. She needed a moment to herself.
    (Do something to your lipstick. It seems to have gone away somehow.) Angel sounded as puzzled as any human boy.
    Gillian fixed the lipstick. She ran a comb through her hair. She was somewhat reassured by the sight of herself in the mirror. The girl there wasn’t Gillian at all, but a slender, insubstantial femme fatale sheathed like a dagger in black. The girl’s hair was silky, the palest of all possible golds. Her violet eyes were subtly shadowed so they looked mysterious, haunting. Her mouth was soft, red, and full: perfect, like the mouth of a model in a lipstick commercial. Against the stark black of her clothing, her skin had the slightly translucent look of apple blossoms.
    She’s beautiful, Gillian thought. And then to Angel: (I mean, I am. But I need… a Look, don’t you think? An expression for when people are staring at me. Like, am I Bored or Slightly Amused or Aloof or Completely Oblivious or what?)
    (How about Thoughtful? As if you’ve got your own inner world to pay attention to. It’s true, you know. You do.)
    Gillian was pleased. Thoughtful, absorbed in herself, listening to the music of the spheres—or the music of Angel’s voice. She could do that. She settled the canvas bag on her shoulder and started toward her locker.
    (Uh, where are you going?)
    (To get my biology book. I still have that.)
    (No, you don’t.)
    Gillian maintained her Thoughtful expression, while noting that heads turned as she walked down the hall. (Yes, I do.)
    (No, you don’t. Due to circumstances entirely beyond your control, you lost your biology book and all your notes. You need to sit with somebody else and share
his
.)
    Gillian blinked. (I—
oh
. Oh, yeah, you’re right. I lost my biology book.)
    The door of the biology lab loomed like the gate to hell, and Gillian had trouble keeping Thoughtful pinned to her face. But she managed to walk through it and into the quiet buzz that was a class before a bell was about to ring.
    (Okay, kid. Go up front and tell Mr. Wizard you need a new book. He’ll take care of the rest.)
    Gillian did as Angel said. As she stood beside Mr. Leveret and told her story she sensed a new quietness in the classroom behind her. She didn’t look back and she didn’t raise her voice. By the time she was done, Mr. Leveret’s pouchy, pleasantly ugly face had gone from a startled “Who are you?” expression (he had to look in the class register to make sure of her name) to one of pained sympathy.
    â€œI’ve got an extra textbook,” he said. “And some outlines of my lectures on transparencies. But as for notes—”
    He turned to the class at large. “Okay, people. Jill—uh,Gillian—needs a little help. She needs somebody who’s willing to share their notes, maybe xerox them—”
    Before he could finish his sentence, hands went up all over the room.
    Somehow that brought everything into focus for Gillian. She was standing in front of a classroom with everyone staring at her—that in itself would have been enough to terrify her in the old days. And sitting there in front was David, wearing an unreadable expression, and Tanya, looking rigidly shocked. And other people who’d never looked directly at her before, and who were now waving their hands enthusiastically.
    All boys.
    She recognized Bruce Faber, who she’d always thought of as Bruce the Athlete, with his tawny hair and his blue-gray eyes and his tall football build. Normally he looked as if he were acknowledging the applause of a crowd. Just now he looked as if he were graciously extending an