Read Online T*Witches: Dead Wrong by Randi Reisfeld, H.B. Gilmour - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Randi Reisfeld, H.B. Gilmour
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rolled her eyes, disgusted.
Lucinda turned to Cam. “Who what?” she asked.
Aw, no. Not now,
Alex heard Evan grumble to himself as he spotted the trio of boys moving toward them.
All three were dressed in black. Two, who Cam guessed were the Applebees because of their resemblance to each other — small puffy eyes, wide pug noses, and humorless thin lips — were both wearing beat-up black parkas that had a greasy sheen to them from too many seasons of wear. There was something about the coats that seemed familiar.
The shorter of the two boys had a black kerchief tied around his head.
Riggs,
Alex silently identified him. The other brother’s head was bare; his wet hair rubber-banded back in a scraggly ponytail. A familiar ponytail, Cam thought with a shiver.
Kyle,
she heard. Clearly, he was the leader of the pack, and mean.
The third boy —
Derek
— wore a big felt cowboy hat with a feather in the band. He was wrapped in a black coat with a short cape attached to it, a western-styleduster that reached the ankles of his grungy, wet snakeskin boots. Despite the rough-rider costume, Cam felt that he was a fraud — as surely as she knew ponytail boy was dangerous.
The dark trio brushed past the truckers, who dropped change onto the counter for their coffees and headed for the door, deep in conversation.
“Yo, kung fu man, wassup?” the ponytailed boy called to Evan. His words were casual, easygoing, but there was a threatening edge to his tone that prickled the skin on Cam’s neck. She’d heard that voice before, but where?
“Kyle, dude,” Ev answered, knocking fists with him unenthusiastically.
Kyle patted his grungy jacket pockets, fished out a lighter, and began mindlessly flicking it on and off.
“Hey, Riggs,” Alex greeted Kyle’s younger brother. He was short but massively built, and his bristly, shaved head was covered in a black do-rag. He was also wearing black leather gloves, she noticed, with the tips cut off so his red, chapped fingers and grungy nails stuck out. They were the kind of gloves weight lifters wore, but plain dumb for this weather. It tickled Alex to see Riggs Applebee trying to look so tough. She’d known him when he was a skinny, picked-on kid in fourth grade.
Back then, the Applebees were just these dirt-poor, skinny little guys whose mom had run off and left them.Alex had felt sorry for Riggs, who was in her class, and Kyle, who was a year older. It was a terrible time for them. Their daddy didn’t know how to take care of them and they’d started looking crusty and failing at school and some kids got really brutal with them, saying — right to their faces — that the reason their mama split was because they were so dumb and dirty she couldn’t stand being with them.
Up until that time, it was Derek Jasper everyone had picked on. He was the smallest kid in class, even smaller than Riggs Applebee, he had a high squeaky voice, which changed by the time they started middle school, and he was new to Crow Creek, having grown up on the Northern Cheyenne reservation near Busby.
Riggs and Derek had started hanging out together. At first, Alex remembered, she’d been glad for them that they’d each found a friend, found someone to “watch their backs.” And, of course, they both looked up to Kyle because he was a whole year older. Then, suddenly, it seemed, they’d changed. A lot. Derek had a growth spurt and his voice didn’t just get deeper, it became an angry growl. The three of them started pumping iron. By the time everyone was at Crow Creek Regional, the Applebee boys and Derek Jasper had gotten tattoos and attitude. They didn’t just freeze out the kids who’d teased them, either. They wouldn’t even talk to Alex, Lucinda, orEvan, who’d been as friendly to them as fellow outcasts could be.
That was when Evan dubbed them snakes and stooges. Unfortunately, other kids picked up on it and the name stuck.
Riggs looked her up and down now. Then he recognized her.
Lucinda turned to Cam. “Who what?” she asked.
Aw, no. Not now,
Alex heard Evan grumble to himself as he spotted the trio of boys moving toward them.
All three were dressed in black. Two, who Cam guessed were the Applebees because of their resemblance to each other — small puffy eyes, wide pug noses, and humorless thin lips — were both wearing beat-up black parkas that had a greasy sheen to them from too many seasons of wear. There was something about the coats that seemed familiar.
The shorter of the two boys had a black kerchief tied around his head.
Riggs,
Alex silently identified him. The other brother’s head was bare; his wet hair rubber-banded back in a scraggly ponytail. A familiar ponytail, Cam thought with a shiver.
Kyle,
she heard. Clearly, he was the leader of the pack, and mean.
The third boy —
Derek
— wore a big felt cowboy hat with a feather in the band. He was wrapped in a black coat with a short cape attached to it, a western-styleduster that reached the ankles of his grungy, wet snakeskin boots. Despite the rough-rider costume, Cam felt that he was a fraud — as surely as she knew ponytail boy was dangerous.
The dark trio brushed past the truckers, who dropped change onto the counter for their coffees and headed for the door, deep in conversation.
“Yo, kung fu man, wassup?” the ponytailed boy called to Evan. His words were casual, easygoing, but there was a threatening edge to his tone that prickled the skin on Cam’s neck. She’d heard that voice before, but where?
“Kyle, dude,” Ev answered, knocking fists with him unenthusiastically.
Kyle patted his grungy jacket pockets, fished out a lighter, and began mindlessly flicking it on and off.
“Hey, Riggs,” Alex greeted Kyle’s younger brother. He was short but massively built, and his bristly, shaved head was covered in a black do-rag. He was also wearing black leather gloves, she noticed, with the tips cut off so his red, chapped fingers and grungy nails stuck out. They were the kind of gloves weight lifters wore, but plain dumb for this weather. It tickled Alex to see Riggs Applebee trying to look so tough. She’d known him when he was a skinny, picked-on kid in fourth grade.
Back then, the Applebees were just these dirt-poor, skinny little guys whose mom had run off and left them.Alex had felt sorry for Riggs, who was in her class, and Kyle, who was a year older. It was a terrible time for them. Their daddy didn’t know how to take care of them and they’d started looking crusty and failing at school and some kids got really brutal with them, saying — right to their faces — that the reason their mama split was because they were so dumb and dirty she couldn’t stand being with them.
Up until that time, it was Derek Jasper everyone had picked on. He was the smallest kid in class, even smaller than Riggs Applebee, he had a high squeaky voice, which changed by the time they started middle school, and he was new to Crow Creek, having grown up on the Northern Cheyenne reservation near Busby.
Riggs and Derek had started hanging out together. At first, Alex remembered, she’d been glad for them that they’d each found a friend, found someone to “watch their backs.” And, of course, they both looked up to Kyle because he was a whole year older. Then, suddenly, it seemed, they’d changed. A lot. Derek had a growth spurt and his voice didn’t just get deeper, it became an angry growl. The three of them started pumping iron. By the time everyone was at Crow Creek Regional, the Applebee boys and Derek Jasper had gotten tattoos and attitude. They didn’t just freeze out the kids who’d teased them, either. They wouldn’t even talk to Alex, Lucinda, orEvan, who’d been as friendly to them as fellow outcasts could be.
That was when Evan dubbed them snakes and stooges. Unfortunately, other kids picked up on it and the name stuck.
Riggs looked her up and down now. Then he recognized her.
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