Blueisland (Watermagic Series, #4) Read Online Free Page B

one of the French exchange students. They dressed like that, kind of crazy like rock stars with a touch of eighteenth century couture. This was probably the one that was rarely at school. The bad boy who was in jail. Marcel Paradis. That’s his name. Right.
    He looked back over his shoulder. But when he saw me, our blue eyes met. Heat rose up from my groin into my chest.
    “What’s wrong with you?” he asked in a cocky voice. “Got a staring problem?”
    “You’re nothing much to look at,” I snapped and then bit down on my lower lip. What a jerk.
    “Damn! Don’t do that with you lip,” he scoffed, glancing down through his black heavy eyelashes at my mouth.
    Then it got strange. His head jerked up and his fingers curled before his chest. And just like that he fainted on the floor. Totally passed out!
    I couldn’t believe it. What the hell?
    But before I could figure out what to do, his thick lashes flew open. For a moment his insane blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, wide and intense. Then, he scrambled to his feet. “Stay away from me,” he said, searching my eyes. His tan, olive skin had paled and a purple vein in his neck lifted up underneath his skin.
    My face flamed. “My pleasure, asshole.” My knees felt weak like they were going to buckle beneath me. I held my hand against the wall to steady myself.
    He just scoffed and rushed up the stairs, out the door, and onto the deck.
    I was a bit shocked and not thinking straight. How could I have missed this jerk at school? It was probably because I had been absent so much with my mom’s funeral arrangements, depression leave, and my general lost mindset. But now I remembered who he was. He was Brigitte’s boyfriend! Boy did she have bad taste.
    Oh, man , I wouldn’t mess with her. Emily was a fool. Brigitte could kick her ass and then some. French girls were tough like that. Something about her seemed deadly kind of like those sexy assassin types in movies that have great manners, but then sniper someone through a window from another building. She just had that kind of air about her.
    That dude looked so much like the guy in the ocean. At that recognition, I rolled my eyes. Of course, he wasn’t the guy I saw. Even if he didn’t drown, he couldn’t climb up onto a yacht from the water below. He would need some kind of ladder or help from the deck. But if it was the same guy somehow, this dude really got around with the girls. And just my luck stumbling in on him twice. Serendipity? Ha! My ass.
    Marcel Paradis was a prick and I wanted to tell him off good. I jogged to catch up with him, but when I stepped outside into the night air, he was gone.
    I looked around. H e was nowhere to be seen. He must have taken the back route into the main room where everyone was hanging out and playing cards. It was a good thing because I would have just made a fool of myself cursing him out.
    A lump grew in my throat. I felt so out of whack that I started pacing right there on the deck. I was so sick of people. They were so mean. I didn’t do a damn thing to Marcel Paradis and he treated me like trash. Life was hell. Was he going to start calling me names and making fun of me at school now like Jake Stevenson did? I just couldn’t take that. Not from him especially. Oh, what was I thinking?
    Only recently, the doctor said I suffered from anxiety and clinical depression. Whatever! I wasn’t going to take his stupid pills. My eyes kept drifting out to the ocean.
    That’s when I noticed the sound of a woman’s voice coming from a radio in one of the rooms below. She sounded like she was complaining about her man on some psychology AM radio show. Thoughts of my mother rushed back into my mind.
    Steve, my mom’s alcoholic boyfriend, was choking her, holding her down in the bathtub. Her face was pale. Her eyes bulging under the water. Her arms and legs flailing to and fro. Desperate. Bubbles and bile coming out of her throat. The last thoughts of how she ruined her life