Blood and Snow by RaShelle Workman
“I’vehad several seriously sexual day dreams about the new guy. Have you seen him?”
“Cin,I didn’t need to know that.” I jammed my math book into my backpack, andslammed the locker door. Cindy rested her petite frame against the locker next tomine. Her radiant baby blues twinkled. “No, I haven’t seen him. Apparently he’s. . . cute?” I asked.
Shesnorted. “Cute? No! He isn’t a kitten. He’s hot, sexier than hell, and has avoice that could melt chocolate.”
Ihad to laugh. Cindy had a way with words. It’d been like that since firstgrade. We met our first day of school. She’d traded me her Twinkie for my applewith the line, “I don’t think you should eat the apple, Snow White.” We’d beenfriends almost ten years.
Shewas different than me in every way, except our blue eyes. She was the epitomeof a waif, while I towered over her at five foot eight. She had blond hair thathung long, and was always perfectly styled, mine was a boring dark brown, andcame to just below my ears. Her clothes were the latest fashion, as were hernails, makeup, and jewelry, including the heart shaped stud in her bellybutton. Me, well let’s just say I didn’t own any makeup, and my clothesconsisted of baggy jeans, and large old t-shirts, thanks to my seven best friends,and their hand-me-downs. My nails were stubby, and my ears weren’t evenpierced. Honestly, I wondered if Cin found me embarrassing sometimes, but Igave her points for sticking around.
“Meltchocolate, huh? He sounds nice.”
“Snow!”She stomped her foot. “Nice isn’t even a proper word. It’s in the same arena asfine, good, okay, and pure.” She shuddered.
“What’swrong with pure?” I asked, unable tohelp a laugh, and started toward the gym.
Shejogged next to me. “Nothing if you’re Snow White.”