Hunger Chronicles (Book 1): Life Bites Read Online Free

face. His blue eyes, flecked with the faintest touch of gold, would be amused. And his hair, with its hereditary cowlick on the side, would have parted in its normal devil-may-care sweep over his forehead.
    My fingers had toyed with that hair. That mouth had researched mine. If I’d been willing, I could have been an expert on the parts of Kyle under the clothing, too. The fact that I hadn’t been willing was what made this pairing so uncomfortable now. Kyle hated me. Or at least, he was pissed at me after the debacle last weekend. No one says “no” to Kyle. Not that you couldn’t, but who would want to? But I’d done so… in a very public and painful way.
    Mr. Shepard droned on about the procedure we’d be adhering to. I didn’t listen. Nor did I look at Kyle even though I felt his eyes on me the whole time. Instead my gaze drifted around the room and settled on the live aquarium tucked in the corner between the window and the back of the room. Complete with lily pads, bottom feeders, turtles and frogs, it was the perfect little pond ecosystem, minus the bugs.
    “You may begin.” Mr. Shepard’s voice drew my gaze away from the aquarium down to the cloth covered tray and the neatly lined up dissecting tools beside it. There was a dead creature under that little scrap of cotton. One I was supposed to cut open and poke around in. I shuddered, goose bumps breaking out on my arms.
    Kyle leaned in close, his breath tickling the hair at the nape of my neck. “What are you afraid of, Eva, think that frog is going to jump up and getcha?”
    And to think I’d dated the jerk. I stiffened my chin, picking up my scalpel. “No. I just hate the needless killing of defenseless animals.”
    “No worries then.” He whipped the sheet away, exposing the ghastly green lump stretched out on the board. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
    I gritted my teeth, holding in the acidic lump that rose in my throat. I could not cut into that thing. No way, no how. I couldn’t even cut into a steak. I was a vegetarian. Not so much by choice as by simple need. Just the thought that the food I was eating used to be a living, breathing, vital animal sent me into the bathroom to puke. And that frog. That poor defenseless frog had been killed for what? I somehow doubted the entire junior class was going to become surgeons. Text books and slideshows. Good enough for me.
    Kyle laughed, taking the scalpel from my limp hand. I watched in horror as he pressed the scalpel against the rubbery skin and slid it down. The smell of formaldehyde became even stronger. I gagged, practically falling off the stool as I bolted for the door.
    “Miss Harper? Eva!”
    The door banged open as I stumbled through it. I was across the hall and leaning into the cool metal of the lockers on the opposite wall when the door opened again. The roar of laughter in the classroom pierced the silence of the hall for a moment before being cut off by the soft click of the door and quiet footfalls.
    “Are you all right, Eva?”
    I stared down at the brown wing-tip shoes as they came into view. Mr. Shepard’s lined hand came down to rest on my shoulder. I liked Mr. Shepard. I did. He reminded me a lot of my father. Strict, a tad bit obsessive about their passion—both were biologists, ironic, that—but good men nonetheless. I often thought Mr. Shepard’s rigid set of rules was because under the deeply grooved face and outdated suit jackets he wore, there beat a kind heart. As apparent by the fact I had not been sent to the principal’s office. Today, I wished his kindness had stayed wrapped up under his corduroy jacket.
    “I’m okay. Just need a second.” Or a millennia. That would be about right. I’d be long in my grave by then.
    The hand on my shoulder tightened, then released as he stepped back. “You have a perfect score this semester, Miss Harper. I’d hate to see that ruined. Especially with Nathanial William’s equally perfect score.”
    I closed my