Soul Eater by Lindsey Sparks EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Author: Lindsey Sparks
- Language: English
- Genre: Metaphysical Fantasy eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I stand in a locker-lined hallway, teenagers streaming past me on both sides.
Shoe soles squeak on the polished floor. Someone slams a locker shut off to
my left.
“Go long!” a guy shouts from farther up the hall just moments before he
chucks a football over the heads of the students.
I stumble to the side as another guy bulldozes through the crowd, pushing
kids out of the way in an attempt to chase down the ball.
In a wave, students duck. Girls squeal and giggle. Boys shout.
“Blake!” a woman says, voice raised but not yelling. Teacher voice, all the
way. “My room. Now.”
I can just see the woman between the breaks in the crowd. She’s young for
a teacher, maybe in her mid- to late-twenties, and pretty, in a wholesome,
all-American way. She’s standing in the mouth of an off-shooting hallway,
fists on her hips and expression stern. In her boots, jeans, and oversized
sweater, I can almost mistake her for a student, but her confident, selfassurance gives her age away. She’s comfortable with herself in a way that
no high school kid ever is.
The boy who threw the ball flashes the teacher a cheeky grin. He’s big for a
high school kid—broad-shouldered and tall. I figure him for a senior, or at
least an upperclassman. “Did you see that dime, Ms. C.?”
The teacher narrows her eyes. “Oh, I saw it, Blake.” She turns to the side
and points down that other hallway. “Now, get your butt into my classroom.
You can eat your lunch in there today.”
Blake’s shoulders slump. “But Ms. C. . . . I’m supposed to meet the guys at
—” Blake proves that he’s smarter than he looks and stops talking when the
teacher—Ms. C.—cocks her head to the side, eyebrows raised.
“Maybe you should’ve thought of the consequences before pulling that
stunt,” she says.
“This is so unfair,” the boy grumbles. He weaves around the other students,
feet dragging as he makes his way toward Ms. C.
“You know we’re trying to keep things calmer around here,” she says to
him as he approaches. The two fall into step beside one another, walking
away down the other hallway and moving out of sight. “The other students
look up to you,” I hear her say. “At least try to set a good example.”
“Yeah . . . OK.”
“Thanks, Blake.”
They’re both quiet for a moment, and I wonder if they’ve moved behind a
closed door and out of range of even my sensitive hearing. But finally,
Blake speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it’s really
ghosts?”
“I don’t know,” the teacher says. “I never really considered myself a
believer—of anything—but who knows. If Nejerets—immortals—are real,
who’s to say ghosts aren’t, too?”
“Everyone’s scared,” Blake says.
“I know.” Ms. C. is quiet for a moment, then asks, “Are you?” For long
seconds, neither of them speaks.
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