Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 1

“Sorry!” Laney apologizes. She finally manages to drop her lunch tray on the table, and grabs a handful of napkins. She passes them to me with another apology. “Sorry, Van, did I get it all over you? These new heels have been tripping me up all day.”

“I told you they were too high,” I say as I take the napkins and start wiping off my leg. Laney grimaces and points to my hair as well. Shaking my head at her, I wipe applesauce out of my platinum locks.

“They aren’t too high! I just need a little practice,” Laney says with a pout.

“If you haven’t mastered walking by now …”

Laney opens her mouth to object, but is cut off by a new arrival. Two new arrivals, actually. Identically adorable, Sandra and Kari barely reach five foot, but their eclectic style—which consists mainly of as many mismatching colors and patterns as possible—makes them extremely noticeable. They sit down at the table in perfect unison. I think they practice that. Beyond weird, but they’re my friends, and I don’t have nearly enough of those to go tossing them out just because of a few idiosyncrasies. The banana yellow top with the flouncy green and pink ruffled skirt, fur lined boots, grey dancer’s shrug, and rhinestone studded belt are quickly giving me a headache. And that’s just Sandra’s outfit. Kari’s is even worse.

If they notice my chagrin at all, they don’t mention it. Kari says, “We think your stilettos are to die for …”

“You would,” I interject.

Sandra throws me a scowl and continues. “But Vanessa is right about your ability to walk across a flat surface without nearly killing yourself.”

Vanessa. Why do they insist on using my full name?

“I am perfectly capable …”

“No, you aren’t,” Kari interrupts, “so we think you should give us the shoes. We’ll make much better use of them.”

They both grin. I feel like Alice staring at a double nightmare of Cheshire cats. Any minute now the rest of them will disappear—taking their bizarre outfits with them, hopefully—and leave only their too-big smiles behind. Laney sticks her tongue out at them. It completes the down-the-rabbit-hole experience for me.

I’m determined to tune all three of them out as Sandra starts talking about feather boas and rubber galoshes. Maybe I should feel left out, but the hum of craziness that surrounds my group of friends is comforting. Until Laney jabs me with her elbow and starts waving wildly at someone behind the twins’ heads. All I can see is a hot pink streak against a background of short ebony hair. Friend of the twins?

“What is your problem today?” I snap at Laney when she elbows me again.

The pink-and-black-headed mystery sees Laney and changes course. Laney is too busy gesturing like a maniac to answer me, so I scoot away from her and start stabbing at my meatloaf, or whatever it’s supposed to be. I’m still trying to talk myself into taking a bite when a familiar feeling courses through me. My head pops up to stare at this nightmare of a girl.

I can feel the muscles in my body tightening to the point of near-rupture. Every cell is begging me to give in again. Tears burn behind my eyes at the effort it takes not to listen. I can almost feel it…almost feel her suntanned skin dimpling under the pressure of my grip before giving way and breaking in welcome of my hunger.

Terrified by the intensity of my reaction, I scour her for some explanation. I scan the heart shaped face and subtle makeup that make her pretty, but average, the clothes that are stylish without being too trendy, and even her mannerisms, but with no success. I shouldn’t want to harm her, but I do. I want it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. The sound of something snapping draws her’s and Laney’s attention to me.