The Merciless Read Online Free Page B

surrender.
    â€œHey! I come in peace. Riley asked me to find you.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Mom took Grandmother to a doctor’s appointment today, so I don’t have to race home right after school. All that’s waiting for me are last night’s leftovers. And Grace has a wicked glint in her eye. “What for?”
    Grace straightens her leopard-print headband and perches on the bench next to me, staring at the basketball hoops in front of us. The outdoor basketball court is far less impressive than the football field. The concrete is all cracked and grungy, and there aren’t even nets hanging from the hoops. The only other kids around the court are clichéd loiterers, sneaking cigarettes and passing around a gallon jug of generic-brand iced tea.
    â€œWe’re headed to the house,” Grace says. “Want to come?” Her fingernails are painted an electric blue that looks neon against her dark skin.
    â€œWhose house?” I ask.
    â€œDon’t get your panties in a twist. You’ll see.” Grace winks. “And you’ll love it.”
    I gather my pen and sketchbook and follow Grace away from school and through row after row of perfect suburban houses with Mississippi flags hanging from their porches. The extra-high platform sandals strapped to her already long, skinny legs make Grace move like a gazelle.
    â€œThis is what I love about small towns,” she says as we walk. “Look at how safe and boring this whole neighborhood is. Back in Chicago, my dad would’ve called the police if I didn’t come home right after school. But here?” Grace spreads her arms and spins in the street. “No one thinks we could get into trouble here. Can you taste the freedom, Sof?”
    â€œOh yeah,” I say. “It tastes like—”
    â€œRed wine,” Grace interrupts. “And chocolate.”
    I laugh, jogging to keep up with her long strides. “I lived in DC for a couple of months freshman year. My friends and I skipped class once—just one time —and my teacher thought we’d been abducted.” I decide not to mention that this was during my very brief Goth phase, and we skipped class to get fake IDs so we could see a band at a place called Club Trash. “The principal called the cops and everything.”
    â€œNice!” Grace says, laughing. “You move around a lot, then? Are your parents military?”
    â€œArmy.”
    â€œMe, too,” Grace says. “My dad’s a combat engineer. We moved every two years of my life until he decided I needed an ‘authentic high school experience.’ Whatever that means.”
    I kick a rock with my sneaker and watch it skitter over the dusty sidewalk.
    â€œAnd you like it here? The whole safe-and-boring thing never gets old?”
    â€œNot if you’re creative about it,” Grace says with another wicked smile. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to like it here. When we first moved, some racist assholes at school used to make fun of my hair. But then I started hanging with Riley, and she made it clear that anyone who messed with me would pay.” Grace shakes her head, like she still can’t believe it. “When someone talked shit at my old school, you just kept quiet and hoped it stopped, you know?”
    â€œYeah,” I say. I’m instantly hit with a memory from my last school of Lila Frank’s high-pitched jackal laugh. “My old school was like that, too.”
    â€œWell, Riley doesn’t stand for it. I’d walk through fire for that girl.”
    â€œWhat about Alexis?” I ask.
    â€œShe’s a sweetheart. Practically Riley’s double, though.” Grace rolls her eyes. “It’s kind of adorable, actually—you’ll see.”
    Grace crosses a packed-dirt lot and ducks through a pocket of trees. A patchwork quilt of land unfolds around us. It’s disturbingly empty, nothing but flattened dirt