Fear Me Not (The EVE Chronicles) Read Online Free Page A

naturally by plates of keratin. But we arranged our fringes in different fashions, wore bone and xelan jewelry, and dyed our scales according to our moods. The concept is the same.”
    Scales . Fringes . I shake my head to clear it of the image - Godzilla wearing necklaces, his body dyed in pink and purple stripes. Raine’s mouth twists into a smile as she decides on a floaty white dress, grabs her books, and taps her feet into leather sandals.
    “I am excited for this year,” She says. When I don’t say anything, she keeps on. “Teenage EVEs are supposed to give off the most delicious emotions, what with your hormones causing your lives to have much emotional fluctuation.”
    “Sounds like good eating.” I roll my eyes. She smiles, oblivious to how grossed-out I am.
    “It is. The taste of the emotions is much stronger than an adult’s.”
    I shudder. Raine just smiles wider.
    “Have a good day, Victoria.”
    The door shuts behind her. She’s obviously never been to a human high school. There are no good days.
    I zip my hoodie up and lock the room behind me. The hall floods with perfume and cheery laughter and the gauzy glitter of sun glancing off first-day-of-school makeup. 
     Every girl has a story. It shines in the color they choose for their nails, the way they dress their hair. Raine is impeccable; fashionable side ponytail, pale blue nails. I’m lackluster; my dishwater blonde hair is pin-straight with split ends for days; my nails are bitten short and dotted with flaking black polish I haven’t redone in weeks. I’m wearing mostly black. I’m tall, but that’s the only good thing about me. I’ve got no curves, not like Raine. The EVE girls come in all shades – preppy girls with metallic polish and updo’s, wholesome suburbanites with braids, the goths with purple lipstick and pinstripe socks, and the anime nerds with their iron-on Naruto patches and baggy jeans. The Gutter girls are almost all the same – their fashion is carefully neutral, yet contemporary and stylish; skinny jeans, blouses, blazers, with modest makeup and jewelry. They look fine, but none of them stand out or look unique.
    Some girls recognize Raine and stop her in the hall, squealing about her latest spread in such-and-such magazine. Raine takes it all with a gracious smile. She has no trouble speaking with humans, and she pisses none of them off. She could teach Shadus a thing or two, that’s for fucking sure.
    The protestors are up bright and early, marching along the front gate. Camera bulbs flash as reporters take pictures of the school. Security patrols up and down the lawn, ushering us to get to class. One protestor screams hysterically, loud enough for me to hear.
    “Run while you still can, kids! Run! Run while you have the chance!”
    Students stop to stare at her. A security guard pulls his hat further over his eyes and waves his hands as he grunts.
    “Keep walking, please. That’s it, just keep walking. The sooner we get you inside, the better.”
    “Why do they want us inside?” A girl whispers to her friend.
    “The protestors might throw things,” I answer automatically. “The PFE’s there, too.”
    “PFE? Who’re they?”
    Her friend rolls her eyes. “Those people who had that stampede back in the day? At that protest? We were, I dunno, seven?”
    “That was them?” The girl’s voice pitches up. They take the left fork, I take the right and try to quell my roiling stomach at the mention of the stampede. The hall packs with overdressed people. Boys have their hair gelled, the strong scent of an ungodly amount of Axe stinging my nose. But boy Gutters are the same as the girls – stylish, yet homogenous. The Gutters nod and smile, looking a little lost in all the boisterous human energy. Voices are shrill with nervousness, students calling to each other like they’re best friends already. We’re from all over the country - there’s no way anyone’s made friends yet. Or maybe they have. Maybe all