Ninth Grade Slays Read Online Free Page B

hall to the gym. Hurry now. Everyone else, get to class. Stevenson, that means you!”
    Vlad felt a hand pat him roughly on the back and turned his head to see Greg, Henry’s older brother. Greg smiled. “Don’t mind Mr. Hunjo. He’s always like that. You know where you’re going?”
    Vlad nodded and looked around for Henry and Joss, who had apparently disappeared. “Hey, where’d your brother and cousin go?”
    â€œProbably the gym. Look for me in fourth period lunch, okay? I’ll show you guys the ropes, and make sure the upperclassmen know to leave you alone.” Greg patted his back again and disappeared into the crowd. Vlad watched until he could no longer see the black wool and crimson leather of Greg’s letterman jacket. Greg had been the starting pitcher for the Bathory Bats for the past two years, and you could be sure that once baseball season rolled around in the spring, he’d take that position again.
    Greg was quite possibly the coolest guy in existence and the only person, besides Henry, who ever made Vlad wish his parents had given him a brother. Like Henry, everybody wanted to be near Greg. You’d think that would make him obnoxious, but it didn’t. He set the standard for what cool was in Bathory High.
    Vlad walked under the arch and followed the flow of hesitant freshmen into the gym. The gym looked pretty much like the junior high’s gymnasium, but for the large wooden beams lining the ceiling. Three tables had been set up along one wall. Vlad followed the crowd from one to the next, and when he walked out of the gym, he held a map, a school guidebook, and an assigned locker number, 131. He found his locker just down the hall, and beside it, Henry.
    Henry grinned and, in his best Mister Rogers voice, said, “Hi there, neighbor. How cool is it that our lockers are right next to each other?”
    â€œSeriously cool.” Vlad pulled a red padlock out of his backpack and hooked it on the handle of his open locker. He slipped a notebook and a pen out of his bag and dropped the bag into the bottom of his locker. He was closing the door when a flash of pink caught his eye, and he turned his head.
    Meredith was standing at an open locker, brushing a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear before hanging her pink backpack carefully inside the locker. Vlad felt his heart swell up to the size of a football. It had become so big, in fact, that he feared his chest might burst open right then and there.
    Henry said, “Are you going to say hello or just stand here staring and drooling all over your shoes?”
    Vlad shot him a look but didn’t reply. The fact was that he wasn’t sure if “hello” would be enough. He thought “sorry” might be more appropriate, but exactly what was he sorry for? For not kissing the prettiest girl in school when she kindly went with him to the last dance of the year? Absolutely. But somehow Vlad doubted that “sorry we didn’t make out” would make Meredith feel like going to another dance with him anytime soon.
    Vlad ducked behind his locker door, sneaking occasional peeks at her from behind the gray metal. He took a few deep breaths and closed the door. “Hi, Meredith.”
    Meredith clutched a folder to her chest and turned toward Vlad. “Hi.”
    â€œYou have class now, huh?” Oh. My. God. What did he just say? Open foot, insert mouth, Vlad. “I mean, math. Right? You have math?”
    Meredith raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “I have English. Why?”
    Vlad’s mouth went completely dry with the realization that they shared a class together. He swallowed hard, but apparently, every drop of spit in his body had evaporated. “Just . . . ’cuz.”
    Vlad thought of crawling into his locker to hide, but he wasn’t sure he’d fit. Meredith parted her pretty pink lips, but before she could prolong their already awkward