Siren's Song Read Online Free

Gorgeous and a sense of humor.
    â€œNo sneaking up on Luke Whitmore. Got it,” I say and stack my books in my locker.
    â€œMaybe we should start over,” he suggests, and I glance at him. He has his hand extended. I exhale loudly but turn toward him, leaning back into the thin hole of my open locker.
    I grasp his hand harder this time. It is warm, strong. Very unlike my own thin fingers. His grip feels solid, steadying. “Welcome to Summit, the peak of good living,” I quote the official town motto. “I’m Jule Welsh.”
    â€œNot Julietta?”
    â€œOnly to my parents.” He releases my hand and I quickly lower it.
    â€œAnd you’re not Lucas?”
    â€œYou witnessed that?” He smiles with a half-embarrassed look.
    â€œHalf the school did.”
    He ignores my questioning look. “Just Luke.”
    The tone for first period sounds, cutting off any chance I have to ask for an explanation. A rush of kids surges through the hall. I grab my chemistry notebook. “Thanks for the help.” I tip my head toward my locker.
    â€œSure.” He turns with me after he hangs up his jacket. “Do you know where room 2343 is?”
    I stare at him for another long second while my still-stunned brain processes the number. “Umm…yeah. I’m headed there. Chemistry?”
    He nods and walks with me through the throng. I study him peripherally. Something is different, missing. Not that he is lacking in any way with that tall, cut bod, but he looks different. The impression I got yesterday was much darker, sinister. “Your tats.” I point to his bare arms. “Where are they?”
    â€œMy tats? Tattoos?” he questions, but I don’t see confusion in his frown.
    â€œYeah, the ones that wrapped around your arms. Were they, like, fake?”
    He stares straight ahead. “I had some grease on my arms from working with my motorcycle. I don’t have tattoos.”
    â€œBut they were dragons or something.”
    He continues to look out over the throng and shrugs. “Nope.” He flexes a bicep, which balls up in a glorious tan hill of masculine strength. Several girls stop mid-sentence, eyes wide, tongues nearly rolling out of their gloss-framed mouths. He doesn’t even glance at them.
    â€œHey, Jule!” Madison’s blonde, sleek hair lies flat around her face. What I wouldn’t give for hair that stays flat in this sweltering fishbowl of humidity. Her eyebrow rises when she notices Luke next to me, but she keeps her smile on me. “I grabbed an audition schedule for you.” She shoves the paper in my hands.
    â€œHmmm… Thanks.” I step-ladder my gaze down the long list of roles without actually reading any of it. “What’s the play?” I am always in the play; at least, I have been in the past.
    â€œYou’re not going to believe this!” Madison rolls to the balls of her feet. “Ms. Bishop chose Phantom !” She thumps the top of the sheet that spells it out. “Can you believe it?”
    My heart aches, literally aches. Can a relatively healthy seventeen-year-old have a heart attack? “ Of the Opera ?” My mouth remains open and I feel my heart thump to get out.
    She rolls her eyes. “Is there any other Phantom ? Of course, Phantom of the Opera . You know she only picked it because she knows you can carry the female role. With your voice, we’ll make it all the way to State again!”
    â€œI don’t know, Madison.” I indicate the chemistry room door for Luke, but he stands next to us as if he is part of this discussion. I face Madison. “I was thinking of sitting this one out. I have a lot going on.” I shrug. Of course she’d have heard about Mom. Who hasn’t? “You know. And I need to concentrate on my grades to get into Boston University’s School of Theatre.”
    â€œGod, Jule! We neeeeed you.” Madison grabs my arm.