Siren's Song Read Online Free PDF Page A

“What?”
    â€œWhat?” he repeats.
    â€œYou keep staring at me. Like you’re trying to see through me, into my skull or something. Like yesterday, except today you aren’t scowling.”
    â€œI’m…trying to figure you out. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” His words start slow, but roll along into a smooth sentence, punctuated with narrowed eyes.
    â€œWell, I’m just a normal girl. I’m not in the witness protection program or a fugitive. I’m boring old Jule Welsh.” I slam my locker a little harder than normal. That’s what an extra dose of adrenaline will do to a person. “So there’s nothing to figure out.”
    â€œ Je ne pense pas que tu sois spécial .” The French words flow like he’s the hero of a romantic movie. I swallow hard as my mind swirls around the translation.
    â€œI’m not special,” I whisper. I feel my face flame and turn toward French. I slide into my seat, thankful for the familiar class without Mr. Dark and Hot making my heart race. As Madame Peele drones on in her perfect accent as she hands out review sheets, my mind whirls around the bizarre day. A little shiver tickles up my spine.
    I decide to go straight from French to drama. I’ll just use my French notebook if I need to write anything down. This way, I won’t run into Luke, with his focused stares and unspoken questions. I just want to get through this day.
    â€œHi, Jule,” Ms. Bishop says when I sit back in one of the theater seats in the auditorium. “Have you seen the audition dates for the fall performance?”
    My smile is a tight line. “Actually, I sort of wanted to talk with you about that.”
    â€œIf the dates don’t work for you, you can stop by and sing a piece anytime.” She waves her hand as if to indicate the time doesn’t matter.
    Ms. Bishop is in her late twenties. Theater school is still fresh in her mind. She’s always bitten off more than her students can chew. Her productions are huge, but somehow we pull them off. If things are going poorly in the dress rehearsal, she usually asks me to sing an additional song toward the end. She says my voice smooths over the rough spots.
    She sits beside me. “What’s up?”
    I take a deep breath and lower my voice. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about my mom.”
    â€œIt’s a small community, Jule. Are you okay?”
    â€œWell, yeah, but…” How do I tell my teacher that my crazy mom has forbidden me to ever sing again? I don’t, that’s how. “My dad is worried about my grades, what with everything going on. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to take on the fall production this year. Maybe the spring.”
    Ms. Bishop straightens and throws on one of those smiles she uses when we’re all forgetting our lines. She pats my shoulder. “ Phantom is a performance of a lifetime. We could go all the way to Nationals with it.” She stands up. “I’ll make certain to give you plenty of time for your studies.” Without another word, she smiles and walks off.
    Derek takes Ms. Bishop’s vacant seat. “I think I’ll go for Raoul instead of the Phantom, because then I’d get to kiss you more.”
    I groan. He just smiles back, a full spread of really white teeth. Derek. We went out for a couple of weeks last year, but he checked his hair more than I did. When his fashion advice bordered on insults, I’d had enough. He does have a fantastic voice, though, and his dramatic looks make him the thespian heartthrob of the school. “I don’t think I’m going to try out.”
    â€œWhat? You have to.”
    â€œMy dad–”
    He cuts me off, apparently not yet tired of hearing his own voice. “You are Juliette to my Romeo, Sandy to my Danny, Bella to my Edward.” I roll my eyes and decide it’s not worth my