The Last Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

about her makes me want to get in her pants.”
    The others laugh. Daisy clears her throat and I almost smack her. She turns the corner into the kitch en and without thinking I follow.
    “I am tired of listening to you creeps talk. I just want some water,” Daisy says walking to the fridge. All eyes look at me and their faces pale. If they had been talking about anything else before I came in I would have loved to see their faces this shocked. It was hilarious. But they were talking about actually sleeping with me and it freaks me out.
    It is dead quiet as Daisy finishes pouring her drink and walks back to the doorway. She waves her hands in the air, “Please continue,” and then grabs me by the arm and pulls me up the stairs , laughing the whole time.

Chapter 7: The Auction
     
    Monday went by so fast I don’t even remember it. Tuesday I knew would be the longest day of my life. I wake up and get ready for school. As I am leaving, I grab my backpack filled with a week’s worth of clothes, shampoo, toothpaste, and other things I need to live. When I get to school there are the usual whispers and stares. I’ve gotten so good at ignoring them that I feel like I ’m walking down empty grey hallways every day. No whispering high-schoolers to be seen or heard. Their comments don’t mean anything to me anyway. They don’t know who I am, and I know I am not what they say I am.
    I com e to school in sweatpants. The auction is during tutorial in the morning and then after school I am off to live with whoever buys me. It’s weird to say that. Someone will buy me.
    In my bag I forced myself to pack cute clothes. I really wanted to pack the dumpiest things in my closet but there was a voice saying in my head ‘ Luke might buy you and you need to look cute for him’, even though I heard him say he was bidding on one of the middle girls.
    The bell for the start of tutorial rings and Jessica and I go backstage and start to get dressed with many of the other girls. Courtney, wearing her usual cheer outfit, takes roll for the last time and announces, “Okay everyone line up in order, it’s time for the introduction.”
    And because we really have no other choice, we do as she says. I hear the crowd murmur from the other side of the curtain and Jessica squeezes my hand. Courtney walks through the break in the curtain and Amanda follows. Next thing I know, I am walking through the curtain and bright lights hit my eyes. I squint trying to get my eyes adjusted. I was not prepared for this. I look out into the crowd. Seniors were seated towards the front and the other classes were placed all over. Even though only seniors participated in the fundraiser, everyone else came and watched. I see the school principle seated at the end of the first row with his head in his hands.
    Good, he should feel ashamed.
    Courtney clears her throat, “Hello everyone and welcome to our annual Slave Auction!”
    I am reminded of the Hunger Games when she says this and it makes me smile. That’s when I remember that one of Courtney’s rules was to always smile on stage. So that’s what I do, as she drags on and on about how the auction will work. Finally, she says we can start and we all go backstage except for Amanda.
    Jessica and I sit where we sat Sunday. Numbers one, two, and three are sold for $50, numbers four and five for $75, and numbers six through twelve between $90 and $140. Two of the bids were sold to girls; it wasn’t against the rules but it doesn’t usually happen. Usually girls only buy to save the bids from creepy guys or get help with homework or just to hang out with a cool girl. When number 13 comes out, the bidding wars begin. It is really entertaining, actually. But every time someone would stand up and make a bid, I would pray it wasn’t Luke. And it never was. When the war for number 15 began a girl came up to Jessica and me.
    “Hey, do you mind if I sit and watch with you guys? I hear it ’s getting good.” We nod and