After the Sirens by Sharon Farrell EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Sharon Farrell
- Language: English
- Genre:Epic Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
She wouldn’t cry. Not somewhere this gross.
She stared at the gearshift vibrating on the oor between them. Its numbers
and weird fork. Its witches’ symbol.
“What are you looking at, Banville? You can’t count to ve? Can’t count to
two? Let’s go for two, shall we? Two would be a miracle.” Coach MacLaurie
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. e windshield on his side of the
truck was speckled with dried spit. “You get it into second gear, Banville, I’ll
take back half of everything I ever said about the Yankees.”
Shut up shut up shut up. First. Find rst. Left, up. Left, up. Left and up.
Clutch down and—
“Get out.” Coach swung out the passenger’s door and stomped across the
front of the truck like an arthritic gorilla. Cate would have given anything to
nd rst gear at that exact moment and smear him all over the parking lot.
“Get out!” Coach reached through the window and opened the driver’s
door from the inside. Cate’s hands shook trying to get the seat belt o, and he
grinned at her. His lips were wet. Cate couldn’t do anything about her face and
didn’t try. She was sure he got this look from women all the time. She went to
step out and he yelled, “e parking brake, Banville! Christ alive, she’s trying
to kill us all.”
Cate got out of the truck and tried to will Coach Slime to leave her alone.
Go away, go away, go away.
Coach lurched up into the truck and took o without bothering to shut
the driver’s side door. Cate cursed herself for inching as he whipped past. Her
heart was pounding. What an asshole. She swallowed. Or tried to. Her mouth
was dry. Adrenaline. Fight or ight. Useless since she couldn’t ght or ee.
at was high school in a nutshell: the subversion of basic human instinct.
She watched as her nemesis (the truck, not the coach, though he’d make
that list too) veered around the blacktop behind the school. A Ford
Bronco, once white, now the color of a gas station toilet. Maroon cloth seats
harboring entire ecosystems, moist and yeasty. A roiling stench inside that
could not be named. A vehicular symbol of everything that had gone wrong
with her day. Her year. Her life.
Not to be dramatic.
Was it that her new school couldn’t aord a normal car with a normal,
automatic transmission and possibly airbags? No. No, it was not. It was that
Coach MacLaurie believed in stress as a teaching tool. Like the Navy SEALs he
was never a part of but claimed to feel a deep, personal connection with
whenever he saw them on TV, he believed that stress motivated. Forced people
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