Free Teen Frankenstein by Chandler Baker Page A

back so fast that his hand was a blur of motion as he released the ball. It sped like an arrow straight into Billy Ray’s gut. He grunted and doubled over, a whoosh of air rushing out of him.
    Nearby, William was pushing himself off the broken table. He stopped to stare at Adam, then at Billy Ray, and then at Adam again, squinting one eye shut to look at him cockeyed like maybe he’d been seeing him from the wrong angle before. As he trundled past, he kept staring back at Adam and shaking his head. “You ain’t gotta kill him, you know,” he said before reaching his friend and clapping him good-naturedly on the back.
    â€œSee what we mean?” Owen asked, returning to join us.
    Adam spun to me. “I killed him?” He pointed at Billy Ray, who was still rubbing his belly. “Can you bring him back, too, Victoria?”
    â€œShhhhhh.” I glanced around, looking for anyone who might have overheard him. I pushed his arms down to his side. “It’s called a figure of speech. You didn’t literally kill anyone. But, just to be safe, let’s not use the K -word in public. We don’t need to draw any more attention to ourselves than … well, than you just did.”
    Adam appeared chastened while a group of girls stood whispering behind their hands and casting looks in Adam’s general direction.
    â€œWay to fly under the radar.” Owen looped his thumbs under his backpack straps.
    â€œIt was one thing,” I shot back.
    â€œHey, kid.” I stiffened at the voice of my nightmares. The she-devil with horns that must have been hidden somewhere under all that highlighted hair. “Kid with the arm. Come over here.”
    Adam lifted his chin. “Me?”
    Paisley nodded.
    â€œYou don’t have to go to them,” I said, but he was already walking over.
    Paisley leaned against the side of the overturned table. “I don’t remember seeing you around before, and Hollow Pines isn’t exactly a big place. Who are you, anyway?”
    â€œHello. I’m Adam Smith. I come from Elgin, Illinois. I’m sixteen years old. I’m a junior. Victoria is my family friend. I am staying with her while my parents wrap up our move to the Lone Star State.” Adam reached down and retrieved one of the scattered calendars from the ground and held it out for Paisley to take. “I can help.” He picked up another calendar and tried to straighten the table.
    â€œI’m—”
    â€œYou’re the Whore Core.” Adam smiled. “I remember.”
    I choked on my own spit. “Adam,” I hissed, but kept my distance.
    Paisley’s eyes snapped to attention. Her left eyebrow arched slowly. Her glance flicked to me. “Is that what they’re calling all the girls who didn’t make the spinster squad?”
    I scowled.
    Adam’s brow dropped. “I don’t know. I’m new here,” he said with a tone of complete seriousness.
    Paisley dropped into a seat behind the cash box. “I see that. Here.” She shuffled around for an undamaged calendar. “For you, free.” She flourished a silver marker from her pocket and signed her name across the front. Autographed it. Like she was famous. “Welcome to Hollow Pines, Adam Smith.” She handed him the calendar, which he held clutched to his chest as he wandered back to me. “Hope to see you around more often.” I turned away in case she did something truly gag-worthy like wink and I was forced to upchuck my breakfast.
    â€œLook, Victoria,” he said, showing me the calendar like a cat dropping off a dead bird to its master. “I got you this.”
    Owen snorted. I closed my eyes and counted to three. Then I took the calendar from Adam. On it, Paisley Wheelwright, Cassidy Hyde, and the rest of the Oilerette elite posed in bikinis and high heels with Crest Whitestrip smiles plastered on and glittery pom-poms clutched in hand.