By Rachel Vincent
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Additional resources for My Soul to Lose
Lydia still watched Mandy, but now her features were scrunched into a tense grimace and one hand clutched her stomach. I glanced at her tray to count her utensils. Had she swallowed her knife, or something stupid like that, while Judy’s attention was occupied with Miss Forkin-Drawers? No, all of the silverware was there, and I could see no obvious reason for Lydia’s pained look. Creeped out now, I stood and turned in my tray— all utensils accounted for—then rushed back to my room without looking up until I’d closed the door behind me.
Some traitorous voice asked from deep inside my head. The girl who sees things that aren’t there and can’t stop screaming. Who tries to rip her own throat out in the middle of the mall. Yeah, you’re sane. And suddenly my appetite was gone. But Meat Loaf Girl—Lydia Trainer, according to her tray cover—was still staring at me, limp black hair falling over half of her face, revealing only one pale green eye. My return stare didn’t faze her, nor did it force her to acknowledge me. She just watched me, as if the moment she looked away I might jump up and dance the cha-cha.
Showing up at homecoming with Nash would have been all the revenge I could ask for against Toby. But that wasn’t gonna happen. I wasn’t even a blip on Nash Hudson’s social radar. Next to Amber sat my cousin, Sophie; I would have recognized the back of her head anywhere. After all, that was the part of her I saw most. ” Emma asked. ” She’d been ignoring me consistently— mercifully—since dance-team tryouts a month earlier, when she’d become the only freshman member of the varsity dance team. ” “I think that’s Doug Fuller across from her.