Preloved Read Online Free Page A

Bexter.”
    “See you.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the door.
    My head was turning with Michael’s words. Okay, let’s just say this was an enchanted locket that only Rebecca could open. Fine. Then what?
    “Hey, Amy,” said Eighties Michael Jackson.
    “What, Pete?”
    “I’m trying to organise a breakdancing contest out on the basketball court during lunch. I thought maybe you might like to come and watch.”
    I normally never go to those group things, you know, the boys-showing-off-and-girls-fluttering-their-eyelashes-thing, but the Eighties spin on things sounded kinda cool. And I was the only girl in the room. I should soak it up.
    “Really? Thanks for asking me. I’d love–”
    “Just make sure you bring your friend, okay?”
    Oh. That sure put a downer on things.
    “Yeah … well, maybe I’m too busy after all. Forgot I have some last-minute revisions for an assignment.” I laughed unconvincingly. “Bye.”
    First period was about to begin. All I had to do was hold onto the locket, find Rebecca during recess and give it back to her. Maybe Michael was right: Rebecca was the only one who could open it. Then she could cut out some emo boy from a music magazine and stick his face inside. God knows I had no use for it. End of story. We all live happily ever after.
    I don’t know why, but I was still fiddling with the stupid thing. Rebecca had said she didn’t want it and it suddenly made me realise how much I wanted it instead. Even though it was a cheap, worthless thing. Maybe I should spare myself the existential pain of having both my mother and Michael Limawan’s superstitions haunting my brain and just bin it.
    I turned it over and looked at the rainbow on the front. Did they have eating disorders, teen suicide and mean girls back in the 1980s?
    Of course they did, I told myself. It’s the nostalgia old people have that makes them see the past with rose-coloured glasses. When I have grandchildren, I’ll probably look back and think this was the best day of my life.
    First period: Economics. Boy, it dragged. I sat up the back and wondered whether Ollie the owl conformed to the rules of aggregate supply and demand or whether Mum was manipulating the market.
    Second period: Accounting. I couldn’t account for why I had chosen these subjects; I didn’t even know what I wanted to do after high school. It was weird, but it seemed like I didn’t know who I was. I know that everyone feels that way sometimes, but for me, it was like that all the time.
    I sat by the motivational poster that read: “Aim well. More often than not, those who succeed believe they can.” I wondered whether I should have apologised to Michael Limawan for getting him so good in the forehead with the cassingle.
    Recess: Rebecca wasn’t at our usual meeting spot. Somehow I was kinda relieved. I ate a cheesymite scroll and drank a strawberry milk by myself against the cyclone-fencing boundary. I scrunched up my nose watching Victor Zhang ponce around on the basketball court.
    Third period: English. As usual, the class demonstrated that it couldn’t even speak the language properly, let alone hope to do well enough in the upcoming exams to get to uni. Fourth period: Maths. What’s with all the triangles? The only triangles I’ve ever witnessed out there in the playground were love triangles. Why, oh, why did I select the advanced class?
    Finally, lunchtime arrived. Life still felt random and meaningless. I grabbed a sandwich and started heading towards the meeting spot. I didn’t have to go far because I bumped into Rebecca in the central quadrangle – heading in the opposite direction.
    You couldn’t tell she had fallen into a toxic wishing fountain that morning. She even smelled fresh, like violets.
    “Have you ever felt like you don’t belong? Like, seriously not belong?” I blurted out.
    “Of course. That’s why I’m an indie kid and not one of those mainstream plastic people. Let’s go. The breakdancing