Novel & Cerita The Music Freaks Jailey

he added, starting to leave. "Wait a minute!" I called out, stopping him at the door. I shifted my gaze to the clock on the wall, watching the minute hand tick forward. When the minute hand hit ten, I unlocked my phone and found Lucas Zacker's Twitter account. Just like in my past life, he had posted a link to a music platform, accompanied by the caption: "My original solo track 'A Flicker in the Dark' awaits your listen." I clicked the link, and the familiar sound of the male vocals filled the room.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking of.” “It comes on after fuckin’ Sesamee Street or something.” “They’re a show on PBS, yeah, but there’s a huge music festival, too,” Ryan said. Riley turned on Miles. “Why the fuck’re you putting us in a country music show?” “It’s not a country music show,” Miles growled. “Pearl Jam will be playing, Outkast, Beck – ” “So, fuckin’ has-beens,” Riley griped. “Hey!” Ryan and Derek both yelled at the same time.

Do whatever I wanted. Then came the day Blake and I hit the mall for some clothes. His mom said he hadn't been out in forever and asked me to drag him along. Of course, fate just had to throw Michael and Dana in our path—clinging to each other. The second Michael saw me, he lit up. "Claire, they said you married that freak from the Baillieu family. I didn't believe it!" I took a sharp step back. "Yeah, I did. So back off. My husband wouldn't be cool with this."

"Guess we stop for food. What do we crave?" We didn't miss a beat, practically shouting. "Pizza! Fries! And a giant milkshake!" Dad chuckled, slowing the car as they approached a rest stop. "Alright, alright, but one thing’s true..." Soph, me, and mom leaned forward eagerly. "What’s that, what’s that? Tell us, do!" Dad shot us a playful look. "No singing off-key—keep it in tune!" Sophie and I exchanged mischievous grins before belting out in the worst, most off-key voices possible:

NICOLE “One taste and I was ruined. I just didn’t know how badly he’d need me, too.” The music was loud enough to shake the buildings' walls. Bodies packed the mansion, laughter and shouting, blending into the heavy bass that pulsed through the floor beneath my feet. I hated parties, especially parties thrown by rich college students with too much money and too much alcohol, and unfortunately, tonight wasn’t just any party; it was Elena’s back-to-school party, and Elena happened to be my best friend. A no to Elena means I don’t value our friendship, and I do a lot.

I am so freakn' lucky. The End Up Next: Already Freakn' Mated

Only country music comes in. The bar is crowded for a Thursday night. I feel like I’m walking through a movie set or something with all the pickup trucks parked in a gravel parking lot. Music drifts from the bar, and people sit on tailgates, talking and laughing. I hate that I love it so much. Grandpa goes right up to the bar, and the bartender knows his name. “Hey, Fred,” he says. “What are you doing here so late?” “I’m taking my granddaughter out for a night on the town. She just got in from the east coast,” Grandpa tells him.

That baffled, horrified respect. The freak. The freak who had survived the Alpha. I wouldn't crawl. Not in front of them. I braced my hands on my knees. I used the wall of the keep. I clawed my way up the cold, rough stone, my fingers finding purchase. I got a foot under me. I pushed. A sound, a low, guttural groan, was torn from my throat. My leg held. It was jelly. It was fire. But it held.

That is way too much! I swear, I'm gonna... Ugh! Blair, do you want to never see the sunlight ever again? Then I composed myself and glared at my classmates. And this freak is still laughing like there's no tomorrow while can't manage to construct the right words between her laughter. I tell you, people, she seems like she has just escaped from the mental institution. And I'm still not looking at her, because if I will, maybe I could kill this freak right now and at this very moment.

The front door of the packhouse swings open again- Brock’s the last to arrive, stepping inside with a guy who looks to be a few years older than him, presumably his beta. “What’s going on?” he asks, running a hand through his wavy shoulder-length hair and eyeing the rest of us with suspicion. I suppose it would be a mindfuck to get an ominous call for an emergency meeting and walk into a cheerful celebration. “Jax and Quinn are mates,” Reid supplies. “You owe me fifty bucks.”