Snitch (The Bea Catcher Chronicles) Read Online Free Page A

everybody else has to, because she’s, like, the school rock star.
    Got to give props to her, though, because rock star or not, Willa went through hell and back last fall, surviving the brutal beating and rape in September and kicking a wicked drug and alcohol problem in the butt (she’s been sober almost six months—a little longer than me). Now she flits around the school, organizes dances, manages clubs, and tirelessly works every week on a rape hotline. It’s hard to keep up with her.
    The rest of the uniformed pack approaches.
    “Hi, Bea.” Sarah waves a curled pinky. “Mwaa.” Air-kiss #2 for the day.
    “Hey, girlfriend.” Eva Marie hip-butts me. Air kiss #3.
    The girls finish their mimed greetings (very sanitary, if youthink about it) and hand Willa the floor. “Listen up. A special person is turning eighteen next week . . .”
    Oh no, she remembered. Please, Willa, don’t make a big deal.
But why am I surprised? She probably has the birth date of every person in the whole school neatly filed away in the contact app on her phone. All eyes are now on me, and I’m expecting a piñata or disco ball to break through the heavens and descend upon us.
    Instead, Willa’s asshole boyfriend, Zac—unfortunately my neighbor—joins us, leans against a locker, and pulls her in, wrapping his thick, hairy arms around her waist.
    He’s King Jock Itch here at Packard High—the star wrestler, with season record-breaking pins. Full of BS, he somehow successfully pins down teachers and Principal Nathanson, talking them into passing grades with a wink and a flex, and, unbelievably, he aced the SAT—a nearly perfect score. He won’t shut up about it.
    “What are you all talking about, huh?” Zac’s smile disappears when he sees that I’m part of the crowd. And then his jaw does this weird twitchy thing—seems to happen whenever he sees me. It spasms like an imaginary tie is tightening around his neck.
    “Your SAT score, of course.” Chris falsely swoons. “What else is there to talk about?”
    “Fuck off, dweeb.” Zac flicks the words out at Chris like he’s toe fungus.
    “That’s enough, you two.” Willa stands on tiptoe and kisses Zac on the cheek. “We were talking about Bea’s birthday, and I was thinking we could pull together a little party . . .”
    “No, really, Willa, that isn’t necessary,” I mutter.
    “Of course it is.” She checks the calendar on her phone, flipping her finger through dates as if she’s conducting the string section of an orchestra . . . up-tempo. “I have the evening of the seventh free. That would be the day before your birthday, but you wouldn’t mind that, would you, Bea?”
    “Uh, I think I have plans that day,” Zac, the jerk, spits out.
    “Oh, well, maybe another day, then . . . ,” she says, her calendar closed, eyes on Zac.
    This is so not cool.
Truthfully? I wanted to enjoy the fuss over the planning, the stress of it all for just a second, at least, so I could say no, try and talk Willa out of it, complain to Chris, and then despair for days over what I should wear.
    I love Willa. Really, I do. But her choice in men? Majorly flawed—big time. Unfortunately, boyfriends seem to be her new drug of choice, and she has absolutely no bullshit radar.
    Last semester, when she was stoned out of her mind, she dated the captain of the football team, Jackass Jones. (Okay, I added the ass part, but he was—and still is.) By the time Willa came back to school from rehab, he was dating skanky Scarlett Ross. Willa pretended it didn’t hurt her feelings and bought them a Hallmark card congratulating them on their relationship.
    Personally, I would have castrated the guy. Come to thinkof it, Jack has been kind of castrated, at least online. He was defriended by almost everybody. But the next week? Willa was
in love
with Rob.
Bea, he’s so dreamy, he’s the greatest.
That lasted only about two weeks, before she moved on to my jerky neighbor.
    “Come on,