Not Your Ordinary Wolf Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

Vinnie would flip.
    Since Spyke’s over-the-top theatrical instincts were perfect for the song, I was willing to put up with thedemands for take after take. But as the day progressed it got harder to pretend I was having fun. The lights blazed above my head. I was sweating. Buckets. We got our money’s worth from that makeup artist. By noon, she’d had to touch me up after every take. I had so much makeup on my face I’d have to scrape it off with sandpaper.
    I finally lost it—on the four-hundredth run-through of a silly choreographed sequence to match lyrics about New York being like a circus. Malika pretended to walk a tightrope while I clowned around. Jules refused to play along, because all she cared about was looking sexy. She kept pirouetting with a hula hoop around her waist, causing Spyke to stop everything and make us start all over again.
    â€œOh, god. Kill me now,” I snapped.
    â€œWhat’s your trauma?” Jules said.
    â€œYou’re not six years old. That hoop is a terrible idea.”
    â€œShut up. I refuse to look like an idiot in this video, even if you’re okay with it.”
    â€œYou’re making the shoot take forever,” I growled. Yes, growled—it began in my throat and ended as a low rumble in my chest. My lips curled back over bared teeth. Jules gasped. I smelled the sharpness of fear on her.
    Vinnie recognized the warning signs of a band brawl and quickly announced a break. I leapt off the stage before Spyke could argue and dashed to the catering buffet before anyone else could get in line. Brie and red pepper sandwiches, ordered specially for me, weren’t going to make a dent in this ferocious hunger. I loaded a plate with roast beef wraps and chips, which made people’s jaws drop—I’d been a vegetarian since I was twelve and watched a gruesome documentary on what life was like for cows at a slaughterhouse. But today I craved meat. I tossed a heap of carrots on top, then added a turkey and havarti sandwich for dessert.
    Clutching two cans of organic soda in one hand, I sat on the floor in a dark corner far from the stage, hoping it would discourage anyone from coming over to ask about my change in diet. I shut my eyes and relished the fact that the lights were no longer pounding down on me. Sweet relief.
    When I opened my eyes again Harris was hovering above me, holding a full plate. He hesitated, then sat down very close. If he moved just a couple inches to the left, his foot would touch mine.
    â€œMust be hot under those lights,” he said, picking up a pepper sandwich from his plate.
    â€œThe worst,” I said from around a mouthful of beef, wishing he was a little less observant.
    â€œSo, did you notice my buddy’s brother at the concert? I think he has a crush on you.”
    I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was Harris trying to set me up?
    â€œThe guy who stood there staring?” I asked.
    He nodded. “Owen Lebrun.”
    â€œKinda creeped me out.”
    â€œHe’s all right. At least his brother, Marlon, is. Met the guy in a class about how artists have depicted the natural world throughout the ages. He’s some kind of genius, doing advanced research even though he’s only like two years older than me.” Harris was slowly working on his undergrad at NYU, and his comic featured anthropomorphized animals who talked to people—I could see why he’d be into a class like that. For a second I considered telling him about the attack, but if I showed him the scar he’d think I was deluded, too. I watched him take a bite of his sandwich. I was used to being a loner, but I’d never felt this alone.
    He peered sideways. “Hey, are you pissed at me for some reason?”
    â€œWhat? No! Why would you think that?”
    â€œYou just seem kind of annoyed … Hope I didn’t do anything stupid.”
    I sighed. “It’s not you, Harris. I just feel like crap