Flame (Fireborn) Read Online Free PDF

yet," someone says from behind.
    "Probably not. Did
you see all the reporters out there? They're still here because they
haven't gotten their story yet," a louder voice answers.
    "God, did you see
the guy, Steph? Hubba, hubba."
    "Delish," the
second voice agrees. "His name's Rhys, I heard."
    " Rhys ."
She says it with a sigh. "I don't know how I'm going to focus if
he's in a class of mine. I'd-" Her voice cuts off as she bumps
into me.
    "Oh! Sorry. I
didn't see you," she apologizes. Her brown eyes are wide.
    Embarrassed, I give a
small, fake smile. "It's ok," I assure them in the
I-don't-care-everything-is-normal voice that I'd spent years
mastering.
    They walk around and
ahead of me. "I swear I didn't see anyone ahead of us…"
her voice trails off as the pair moves further away.
    I wonder if I stood
glued to this one spot, how many people wouldn't "see" and
bump into me? What if I start line dancing with my backpack on top of
my head? I think sarcastically. How many people would notice then ?
I'm angry enough to try it, but Dr. Bingham's voice booms over the
loudspeaker, trampling any idiotic ideas I considered pursuing.
    "Students, please
report to first hour immediately. There will be no loitering in the
hallways. Attendance will be taken promptly at 8:20 am." The
principal's nasally voice repeats the announcement once more before a
loud clicking sound is heard from behind. Then another. And another,
until a hoard of snapping sounds spill inside through the doors.
    Cameras.
    They'd arrived.
    I don't bother to turn
around to catch the action. What's the point? I'd probably be
trampled to death before anyone realized I was there. Eager whispers
and animated excitement ripples through the crowd of students.
Ignoring the heightened energy, I take advantage of everyone looking
back to sidle to the front of the line.
    "Open your
backpack, please," the security man says in a bored voice. In a
hurry, I do so. I'm ok, until I notice his eyes traveling over a
bright, mint green wrapping. My cheeks heat up at the feminine
product in my bag. How was I to know there'd be a man rummaging
through my bag today? His fingers find a half eaten Twix bar, and an
unopened Cheez- it pack, before he finally looks up.
    "You're good,"
he says.
    I lift one backpack
strap onto my shoulder, and rush away, zipping the bag as I walk. Note to self: hide everything embarrassing ASAP!
    The classroom door
creaks as I slide it open, and a few sets of eyes drift over. When
they see who it is, they turn back to the TV, bored. AP English
Literature is in full swing by the time I come. Walking over to Mr.
Bernard, I whisper my name, "Kenna Parker."
    He lifts a hand to his
ear. "Eh?" I point to my name on his clipboard. He writes a
checkmark beside Kenna Parker and adds a "T" to
indicate tardy. For a split second, I debate whether I should point
out technically I'm on time, but due to external circumstances such
as new alien students, I was forced to be late. I decide it's not
worth it, and find a seat. A third of the chairs are empty. It
doesn't surprise me that some of the students made an opportunity of
this momentous occasion, and skipped school. I might've also, but I
had to do a cooking demo in Home Economics, and to put it bluntly:
I'm bored at home. There's no one to keep me company but a hung over
father, and an overly quiet house. Yes, unfortunately, given a
choice, I would choose school every time.
    The lights are dim because we're
watching Romeo and Juliet. It would've been a nice movie had we been
watching the Leonardo DiCaprio version, but we're stuck with a movie
from 1968. It was so old some of our parents weren't even born yet
when it was released. Mr. Bernard had been a young man when this
movie first came out, so he didn't seem to notice or care what we
thought. Last week he'd spent a good fifteen minutes setting up the
old VHS player to accommodate the ancient tape. I wonder how long
it'd taken him today.
    "O happy dagger!
    
 This is thy