Read Online Firelight by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online

those moments in the cave, prey and predator finding communion in each other. But because the last thing I want to do is reveal that Will is anything special to me, I say, “So.”
    “So?” She stresses the word. “He doesn’t date high school girls. He hardly talks to any of us. No one knows that more than Brooklyn. Just watch your back around her.”
    “So if Brooklyn can’t have him no one can?”
    “Pretty much,” she replies.
    Incredible. I’ve only been here a day and I already have an enemy? “Why are you telling me this?”
    “Call me a Good Samaritan.”
    I smile and decide that I might like Catherine. Maybe I could find a friend in this place, after all.
    I’m not opposed to friends. I miss Az like crazy. Not that Catherine could ever replace her, but she might make being here more bearable. “Thanks.”
    “Sit with me in study hall tomorrow.”
    Instead of Will. As if Will might want to sit with me again. “Sure.”
    “Great.” She shoves off the lockers and tosses her choppy bangs back from her eyes. “Can’t miss my bus. See you tomorrow.” As she disappears into the throng of students, I spot Tamra walking between a guy and a girl. She hasn’t spotted me yet. She’s smiling. No, beaming. Happier than I’ve seen her since Dad died. Even further back than that. Since it became clear she wouldn’t manifest.
    I can’t help feeling sad. Sad and lonely as I stand in a crowded hall.

    Mom’s one of the first at the curb when we step outside. Heat blurs the air. It tastes like steam in my mouth and nose. My skin itches, roasting in the hot, drying atmosphere. I press my lips tight and hurry toward the car.
    Our blue and rust-stained hatchback noses to the head of a long, coiling serpent of vehicles.
    Tamra groans next to me. “We need our own car.”
    I don’t bother asking how we might pull that off. When Mom traded in the wagon several towns ago for the hatchback, she still had to toss in some cash. And there is the small matter of survival…
    keeping a roof over our heads, food in our bellies. We barely scratched enough together to cover rent and a deposit on a place to live. Thankfully, she starts work tonight.
    Tamra slides me a look. “Not that you would be allowed behind the wheel. I’ll have to drive us.”
    I roll my eyes. It’s a running joke in the family. I can fly, but I can’t drive to save my life. No matter how many times Mom has tried to teach me, I’m hopeless behind the wheel.
    Tamra takes the front seat. I climb in the back.
    “Well?” Mom asks, all loud and peppy. Too bad she can’t try out for cheerleading with Tamra. She has the enthusiasm down pat.
    “Great,” Tamra offers. As if to prove her point, she waves out the window to the kids I saw her walking with in the hall. They wave back.
    I feel sick. Lean to the side and let my face rest against the warm, sunbaked glass.
    Mom looks over her shoulder. “What about you, Jacinda? Did you meet some nice kids?”
    Will’s face floats in my mind.
    “A couple.”
    “Fantastic. See, girls? I told you this move would be great for us.” Like we collectively decided to make a fresh start and didn’t abscond in the middle of the night. Like I had been given a choice.
    Apparently Mom can’t hear the misery in my flat voice. Or she chooses to ignore it. The latter, I suspect. It’s easier for parents to ignore, to pretend that everything’s great and then do whatever they want while convinced it’s something you want, too.
    Thankfully the car moves forward, turning into the busy parking lot. We jerk to a stop several times as students reverse from spaces with reckless abandon, cutting in front of our car. All except the kids who linger, loitering in groups around their cars.
    Then, I spot it. A vehicle I’ve seen before. With the memory comes fear…filling my mouth, as metallic and coppery as blood. My skin tightens, eager to fade out. I fight the manifest, shake off my fear. The draki instinct intended to