Page 2 of Violent Little Thing

Unlike me.

I hated Spam.

Loathed it from the darkest depths of my soul.

Not that I would ever tell my mom that.

She thought I loved it.

In truth, Spam was the third biggest evil in my life.

The first was Seraphina Vanderbilt.

The second was geometry.

“Come on,” Sonja begged. “Please?”

“If my mom finds out that I missed the bus because I went home with Seraphina, she’s going to be pissed,” I pointed out.

“Then let’s go,” Sonja urged. “Please?”

And because I couldn’t tell my friend no, I chose to go with her, despite my mother’s warning this morning that I was never to ride with her again.

Seraphina looked pissed that she was forced to wait for us.

She was sitting in the front seat of her BMW X3 with a scowl on her face.

I got in the back seat next to Sonja.

Sonja nor I bothered to try to get into the front.

One, we didn’t want to sit up there with her and talk to her if we didn’t have to. Two, she wouldn’t have allowed it anyway. We weren’t good enough to sit in her front seat.

Sonja bumped me with her shoulder, and I rolled my eyes as I reached for my seat belt.

Sonja did not.

She just bounced in the seat beside me as she chattered on about the dance and what we were going to attend over the next weekend once school let out.

I focused on her instead of Seraphina.

If I hadn’t, though, maybe I’d have seen how fast Seraphina was going. Maybe I would’ve seen that she was swerving and couldn’t stay in her lines. Maybe I would’ve seen the car that she pulled out in front of.

But I did none of those things.

Instead, I sat there, blissfully unaware of what was happening around me until it was too late.

A horn blasted, and I looked up just in time to see a white SUV heading directly for my door.

I’m not really sure what happened next.

I knew that we had a wreck.

It was like time slowed down and sped up at the same time.

I watched as the SUV’s grill came closer and closer to my face.

Watched as the glass broke.