CHAPTER 6
I stare at my lunch tray: some kind of mystery pasta (green mac and cheese, maybe?) and a diet coke. Man, do I wish I hadn’t forgotten to shove some Demon bars in my backpack today. Ah, Demon bars. Eight ounces of candy disguised as granola-based nutrition. Yum. Meanwhile, the school cafeteria’s idea of food is nothing less than terrifying.
Cissy slips into the empty chair across from me. Like always, it’s just the two of us at our favorite corner table. Her tawny eyes sparkle. “We need to talk.”
The room turns strangely quiet. I scan the nearby faces, noting how everyone’s actively avoiding looking in my direction. Dread and bile twist my stomach. My conversation with Cissy is today’s lunchtime theater, and no one wants to miss a word.
I poke at the greenish pasta with my fo
