Poison Princess Read Online Free PDF

Mel, but she had her earbuds in, absently singing an angry female rock song. She loved to sing; her voice sounded like two cats in heat sparring in a traffic cone.
    With the right makeup and lighting, her face looked stunning, all haughty cheekbones and flawless skin. Right now, she was cute, with her mouth a touch too big, her eyes a bit wide, her expressions comical instead of come-hither.
    We’d been best friends ever since kindergarten, when a little punk kid had kicked my shins. Mel had swooped in to save the day. Lisping through her missing front teeth, she’d demanded, “Wath he mething with you?”
    I’d nodded up at her, sensing a sympathetic hug on the way and eager for it. But she’d marched off and handed that boy his ass.
    Now she leaned up on her elbows, removing her earbuds with a frown. “Okay, nobody’s ever accused me of being perceptive or anything, but even I can feel that Cajun staring at you.”
    He had been at it for a day and a half. “Imagine having three classes with him.” English, history, and earth sciences. Not to mention that Jackson and I were practically locker mates.
    â€œ And homeroom.” Mel was still pissed that she and I weren’t together, that I’d been exiled from all my friends.
    But hey, I’d scored both Jackson and Clotile Declouet, the Cajun girl.
    I sat up, twisting my hair into a knot, sneaking a glance to my side. Yet again, I found myself in his sight line. He was sitting atop a metal table, scuffed biker boots on the attached bench, with his friends gathered around him.
    Jackson had his elbows on his knees and his gaze fixed in my direction, even as he spoke French with the others. Occasionally Clotile leaned over to murmur to him.
    â€œYou think she’s his girlfriend?” I asked, immediately regretting it when Mel shaded her eyes to blatantly study them.
    â€œNormally, I’d say they were perfect for each other.”
    Klassy, meet Good-Natured.
    â€œBut if they’re together, then why does he keep staring at you? Like he hasn’t deposited enough mental images into his spank bank by now?”
    â€œThat in no way makes me feel better about this situation, Mel.”
    â€œWhat are they talking about?” She’d been delighted that I was uncovering all kinds of dirt on our enchanting new students.
    Though I’d never considered myself a big eavesdropper, it wasn’t like I could turn off my French, and the Cajuns kept talking in front of me, completely unguarded. “They’re debating whether to pawn their school-issue laptops.”
    Mel snorted, then grew serious. “How much do you think they’d go for . . . ?”
    In homeroom yesterday, when a TA had passed out the computers, Clotile and Jack had stared in astonishment; then Clotile had smoothed her fingers over hers, wistfully murmuring, “Quel une chose jolie” —such a pretty thing. As if it was the most precious possession she’d ever owned.
    With an involuntary pang, I’d realized it probably was. Their town was basically a big swamp filled with leaky-roofed shacks, many without power.
    As mind-boggling as it seemed to me, these kids wouldn’t have computers—much less their own computers. When I’d comprehended how hard it must be for her to adjust to this new school, I’d caught her eye and mouthed, Hi , with a smile.
    She’d frowned over her shoulder, then at Jack—who’d canted his head with puzzlement. . . .
    â€œWell, what’s the verdict?” Mel asked. “Pawn or not?”
    â€œLionel and Gaston plan to cash in tout de suite . Clotile and Tee-Bo are going to hold. Jackson has parole concerns.”
    â€œI knew the rumors about him were true!”
    When they’d eventually finished drinking/smoking and meandered off, Mel’s attention focused on Spencer. “He really likes me. I can tell.”
    â€œUh-huh,