Bad Wolf by Jackie Sexton

Author:Jackie Sexton [Sexton, Jackie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Jackie Sexton
Published: 2013-12-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

On our way to the hotel I saw a big neon sign in front of a run-down building that said, “Clam Shack Karaoke Night $200 Grand Prize” in pink, glowing letters. Something inside me gravitated towards it. I don’t know what it was, but of all the things I couldn’t control, with the punk riot, Trent hating me, and two of my friends being werewolves (not to mention the third being a demon), it seemed like the van’s broken brakes were one thing I could fix.

Plus, I was in desperate need of a distraction.

“Pull over!” I called out loudly.

“What is it?” Nick asked, alarm in his voice. He pulled the van over into the Clam Shack’s parking lot, probably assuming the worst.

“I…I really need a drink,” I finished lamely, unable to think of a better excuse for forcing my friends into a karaoke bar. Still, I was surprising myself with my lies lately—certainly beat, “my hamster ate my homework.”

“Are you for real?” Brandon asked, incredulously. “You were pretty drunk right last night. I’d be surprised if you weren’t still hung over.”

“Yeah well…” I started, unsure of how to defend my reckless drinking. The truth was the idea of having another drink was still pretty repulsive to me, even hours after the worst of my hangover subsided.

“I can’t handle all of that werewolf demon stuff. I need a drink,” I said, letting the lie fall clumsily out of my lips. It was partly true, anyway.

“Okay,” Nick said, parking the car right in front of the shack. My jaw dropped open at how easy it was to guilt them with this supernatural stuff. I snapped my mouth shut quickly and jumped out of the van, heading for the door before anyone could see the incriminating look on my face.

Like I said, lying isn’t my forte.

Inside the dusky bar there was a gaggle of sorority girls and frat boys, a blur of white faces, blonde hair and summer dresses sitting in the back, cajoling raucously over pitchers of beer.

“Well, we fit right in,” Trent muttered sarcastically. It was true, we stood out like sore thumbs, but it couldn’t be any worse than what we had experienced before. At least these people seemed less likely to start a riot (though not any less likely to roll around on dirty mattresses, I thought with a smirk).

“Anybody else want something to drink?” I said, forcing myself to fight a grimace at the wafting scent of alcohol.

“Me. I am too damn sober for all of this melodrama,” Brandon, giving me a good-natured wink. Nick shook his head and Martin and Trent avoided eye contact with everyone.

“Okay,” I said, taking a breath before I braved the bar. “Hey, look, there’s karaoke, maybe you should sign up Trent…” I said, trying in vain to get his attention. He shot me a dirty look.

“Maybe you should sing, Bailey,” Brandon said with a devilish smirk. It was good to see his good humor returning to him.

‘Well,’ I thought, ‘maybe if I sing Trent will find it so funny he’ll loosen up…’ It was worth a shot.

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