Forcing Gravity Read Free Page B

about surfing and football and how to fix a flat tire. I learned very little about make-up and hair products and high heels. I lived in jeans and t-shirts and flip flops, and my mother knew this, but there before me in the huge walk-in closet, was the wardrobe of the girl she ’d always wanted me to be.
    She’d purchased dresses in every color and style imaginable, little slinky tops, and even a pair of leather skinny pants. There was also an array of boots, sandals and heels, all in different colors and styles, not to mention, at least ten bags in different sizes and colors. It was completely over-the-top, and I’d never wear most of it. I also noticed a variety of jewelry on my dresser, and when I’d been in the bathroom, I’d discovered that she’d bought out the MAC store just for me. I realized what was happening; my mother was making me her pet project in an attempt to transform me in time for the first day of school. Fan - tastic .
    Sighing, I reached for one of the least threatening dresses, a strapless, green sundress that came to just above my knee s . Forgoing the heeled sandals I knew she’d expect me to choose, I slipped on my leather flip flops and headed downstairs.
    Something smelled incredible, and I wandered into the kitchen to check it out.
    “Damn, that smells amazing!” I said loudly to the rotund Hispanic man who was whisking something at the stove.
    “ Mija !” he said, recognizing my voice as he turned around. A wide smile lit up his face. He crossed the room and smothered me in a bear hug. “When did you get home?”
    “Hi Julio! I got in this afternoon.”
    “And you didn’t come down to see me, why?” he demanded in his thick accent.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, as he pulled back to appraise me. “I was unpacking, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
    He waved his hand in dismissal. “You’ve never bothered me once in the fifteen years since I’ve known you.” Then he cupped his hand up to his mouth. “Not like Ms. Skylar, but you didn’t hear me say that.”
    “Julio!” I chastised, but I was laughing as I said it .
    Julio just gave me a knowing look. He’d been cooking for my mother since my parents’ divorce, and as far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anyone who could make food taste as good as he could – even the low carb crap my mother usually made him prepare . I considered him to be a part of the family, even if my mother and sister still thought of him as ‘the help’. I’d personally reamed Skylar out several times for the way she treated him, barging into the kitchen and demanding he make her and her friends a snack, always forgetting to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.
    I sort of hoped a little of me would rub off on her while I was livi ng at home , because I had serious fears that if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up just like my mom – selfish, entitled and elitist. I didn’t want that for her. Sure, the world had been presented to her on a silver pla tter, from both her parents, and because of that, she’d never learned the value of being nice and working hard. She just assumed everyone should fall at her feet , and with that attitude, she’d never make it in the real world. Granted, she was only twelve, but still.
    “I’ll kick her spoiled little butt. Just say the word, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again,” I told Julio , taking a seat at the bar. He immediately placed a plate of cheese and crackers in front of me.
    “Eat, Mija . You look too skinny.”
    “When have I ever turned down food?” I asked, shoving a piece of cheese in to my mouth.
    Julio just smiled at me and returned to his pots and pans. I loved that he called me his daughter. He didn’t have any kids of his own, and it made me feel special, especially since I was missing my own father so much already.
    “ Ju - lio !” rang out my mother’s high-pitched voice just before she burst through the kitchen doors a few minutes later .
    And there she was,