Killer's Kiss Read Online Free

now. Ms. Bates will talk to her parents. And Gabe is watching her. Let’s just grab our things and go to the nurse. Then we can get out of here.”
    â€œGood idea,” Delia said. “But give me a minute. I must look awful.”
    Britty laughed and shook her head. “See? You’re already starting to recover,” she answered.
    Delia laughed too. “Owww, that hurts,” she complained.
    She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and straightened her dress. Even though her hands shook, she touched up her lipstick—perfectly.
    She spotted a napkin on the bleachers. The flimsy kind they gave out with boxes of popcorn at the concession stand. Delia grabbed it and blotted her lips, then set it on the seat beside her.
    This time, the lip print wasn’t smiling.
    â™¦ ♦ ♦
    â€œMy drawings are okay, I guess,” Delia said to Vincent the next night. She tilted her head to one side and studied the pictures set up against her living room wall. “But they’re nothing compared to Stewart’s,” she added. A tiny knot formed in her stomach.
    Vincent didn’t answer.
    â€œStewart is really into detail,” she went on. The knot grew a little bigger. “His drawings are realistic, perfect down to the last detail. Mine are more … more imaginative, I think.”
    She tipped her head the other way and smiled. “Maybe they look better sideways!”
    She did her big, bold drawings with markers—in the brightest, loudest colors she could find. Some of the drawings were of Delia’s own fashion designs. Wild styles. Crazy colors.
    A few showed her friends. Britty whirling across the gym during her floor exercise, a blur of bright color. Gabe with his face stretched into an enormous smile, his fire-engine-red hair.
    She even did a self-portrait. In it, Delia wore her favorite black miniskirt and a purple shirt just a shade lighter than her Midnight Wine lipstick. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. A wild, dark halo.
    There was no drawing of Vincent.
    Delia gazed at him, sitting next to her on her living room couch. She was a pretty good artist. Good enough to get into the Conklin finals. But she would never be talented enough to do justice to Vincent.
    Nobody was that good.
    â€œVincent?” Delia urged. “Do you think my drawings are okay?”
    Vincent kept staring at the basketball game onTV. He stretched and yawned. “Of course,” he mumbled. “You wouldn’t be in the finals if they sucked—would you?”
    Delia watched Vincent as he spoke. He appeared bored.
    No, she decided. Not bored. He’s tired and worried. We’re both still upset about Karina.
    Karina hadn’t shown up for school that day. The whole school was buzzing about her. How strange Karina had looked when she attacked Delia. How hysterical she had acted. How unlike her usual sweet, responsible self.
    Of course Vincent is upset. Everyone at school is upset. They are her friends. I’m her friend too, Delia thought.
    â€œOr at least I used to be.” Delia didn’t realize she’d said the words out loud until Vincent turned and stared at her.
    â€œI was just thinking about Karina,” she explained. Delia brushed one hand tenderly over her sore ear. “We used to be such good friends. But it seems like a long time ago.” Delia sighed. “I’m worried, Vincent. Karina wasn’t just angry yesterday—she was insane! I wish you could have seen it. She said all this crazy stuff about you being her boyfriend. About how she won’t let me have you. It was so weird. “
    Vincent didn’t reply.
    â€œVincent?” Delia prodded.
    â€œHuh? Oh, yeah. Weird.” Vincent edged closerto Delia. He flicked off the lamp on the end table and slipped one arm around her shoulders.
    Any other time Delia would have been eager to lose herself in the warmth of Vincent’s arms. But that wasn’t so easy