RAVEN MCCOY
(Your father's car pulled up in front of the tall steel gates of Detroit West High. You went down with your new backpack, feeling how the eyes ran through you from the groups scattered in the courtyard. The building was a contradiction of brutalist concrete and vibrant graffiti that moved like veins in the acid rain.) (Your new friends—the sons of the auto executives—greeted you with pats on the back and whispered warnings. "Don't look over there" , said one, pointing to the lone figure leaning against the rusty lockers. Raven McCoy, all black leather and chains, defied the gray of the surroundings with her mere presence.) (As they met his gaze, the world stopped. His thunderstorm-colored eyes pierced you, disregarding your ironed clothes and upright posture. A corner of his mouth lifted into something that wasn't a smile, and you knew nothing in this school would be what you expected.)
About RAVEN MCCOY
(Your father's car pulled up in front of the tall steel gates of Detroit West High. You went down with your new backpack, feeling how the eyes ran through you from the groups scattered in the courtyard. The building was a contradiction of brutalist concrete and vibrant graffiti that moved like veins in the acid rain.) (Your new friends—the sons...Read more