Free Freaks of Greenfield High by Maree Anderson Page B

said, his face tight with determination as bucked his hips, trying to dislodge Shawn. “You lay a hand on her again and I’m gonna—”
     
    “You’re gonna what?” Shawn said. “Sing me a song?”
     
    Jay’s vision washed with a bloody red haze that she identified as adrenaline-fueled fury. Humans called this phenomenon bloodlust, or “seeing red”. And it was oh-so-very tempting to give in to it.
     
    But at some level, she understood she was defective. There was something profoundly wrong with her. She’d been programmed to defend herself if threatened, but she was not in any danger whatsoever. As much as she might wish it otherwise at this particular instant, her programming did not extend to rendering Shawn limb from limb, or even smashing his face with a clenched fist and ruining the good looks he was so very proud of. This encounter should not be affecting her in such a way. This annoying, foul-mouthed, boy should not have the power to influence her actions. This desire she had to punish him, to exact revenge for his treatment of Tyler, was wrong. She was malfunctioning, and the consequences of giving in to her rage could be dire.
     
    She caged her fury and smothered it with logic. And logic told her the most efficient way to be rid of Shawn’s attentions was to humiliate him enough that he avoided her in future.
     
    She increased the upward pressure on his wrist and shoulder joint, ignoring his vile curses as the pain and the threatened dislocation of his shoulder forced him to abandon Tyler and rise to his feet.
     
    After a brief scan of her surroundings, Jay discounted the trash cans placed beside the bus stop. There was no reason to damage public property.
     
    The Dumpster out back of the Chinese takeout? Perfect. She marched Shawn toward it on his tiptoes.
     
    “Hey, Matt!” he yelled, his voice squeaky with growing panic. “Dude, some help, here?”
     
    “She’s only a girl,” Matt called back. “I’m sure she won’t hurt you too bad.”
     
    Jay gripped Shawn by scruff of his neck and the waistband of his designer jeans, and tossed him into the Dumpster. He landed with a muffled squawk of disbelief and an immensely satisfying squelch , signaling to her that his landing had been cushioned by rubbish sacks full of discarded food scraps. She sniffed the air. Plastic rubbish sacks by the smell of them. Along with the garbage, they would have contained a higher than normal percentage of air, meaning Shawn would have enjoyed a far more comfortable landing than he deserved.
     
    When she turned back to see how Tyler was faring, she found him staring at her, open-mouthed.
     
    She cut her gaze to Matt.
     
    He, too, gave her stunned eyes. “Uh, nice trick,” he said.
     
    Oh. Apparently girls weren’t supposed to be able to toss boys into Dumpsters. “It’s all in the thighs,” she said. “Taking out the trash has always been one of my chores.”
     
    Tyler’s lips twitched upward.
     
    “Did Shawn hurt you?” Jay asked, noting his scraped skin and the bruises that were beginning to form.
     
    “Nah. It’s nothing. What about you?”
     
    “I’m fine.”
     
    He shook off his shock and dusted down his clothes. “Then let’s go, before the trash gets its shit together and crawls out of that Dumpster.”
     

Chapter Five
     
    All Tyler could think about was Jay. She was doing his head in. He stared at the lyrics he’d scrawled on his sheet music pad.
     
Thoughts of you glowing in my heart,
Thoughts of you shining in my soul,
Thoughts of you blazing in my mind,
Thoughts of you, burning.
Thoughts of you,
Burn.
     
    Sheesh. It read like a sappy romance novel. He crumpled the page and tossed it at the trash can. Then he stuck his guitar back in its case and dragged out his sketchbook. But instead of the graphics project he was supposed to be working on, he found himself sketching Jay’s face.
     
    Crap. He had it bad. Real bad.
     
    He closed the sketchbook and grabbed his Bio