Ready or Not Read Free

trial where she was condemned to death for witchcraft. But you look sort of like it. The doodle, I mean.”
    While this was better than being told I looked like Ashlee Simpson, it’s not very comforting to be told you look like a doodle, either. Even a doodle of Joan of Arc.
    â€œYour parents are going to kill me,” Theresa said.
    This was worse than being told I looked like a doodle.
    â€œThey’ll get over it,” I said. Sort of more hopefully than I felt.
    â€œIs it permanent?” Theresa wanted to know.
    â€œSemi,” I said.
    â€œSanta María,” Theresa said, again. Then, noticing I had my jacket on, she was all, “Where do you think you’re going?”
    â€œArt lessons,” I said.
    â€œI thought you had those on Mondays and Wednesdays this year. Today’s Thursday.” You can’t pull anything over on Theresa. Believe me. I’ve tried.
    â€œI do,” I said. “Normally. This is a new class. For adults only.” Susan Boone owns the art studio where my boyfriend and I take drawing lessons. Sometimes it’s the only time I get to see him since we’re both so busy, and go to different schools, and all.
    Not that this is why I go to them. Drawing lessons, I mean. I go to learn to become a master at my craft, not to make out with my boyfriend.
    Although we do usually get in a few kisses in the stairwell after class.
    â€œSusan said she thought David and I were ready,” I said.
    â€œReady for what?” Theresa wanted to know.
    â€œA more advanced class,” I said. “A special one.”
    â€œWhat kind of special class?”
    â€œLife drawing,” I explained. I’m used to getting the third degree from Theresa. She’s been working for our family for a million years and is sort of like our second mom. Well, really, she’s more like our first mom, since we hardly ever see our real mom, on account of her busy environmental law career. Theresa has a bunch of other kids, all of whom are grown, and even some grandkids, so she’s pretty much seen it all.
    Except life drawing, apparently, since she went, all suspiciously, “What’s that?”
    â€œYou know,” I said, more confidently than I felt, since I wasn’t entirely sure what it was myself. “As opposed to still lifes, piles of fruit and stuff. Instead of objects, we’ll be drawing living things…people.”
    I have to admit, I was kind of excited at the prospect of finally getting to draw something— anything —other than cow horns or grapes. Probably only geeks get excited about this kind of thing but, hey, whatever. So I’m a geek. With my new hair, at least I’m a goth geek.
    Susan had made a big deal out of it, too. The fact that she was letting David and me come to a life drawing class, I mean. We would, she said, be the youngest people there, seeing as how it was an adult class. “But I think you’re both mature enough to handle it,” is what Susan had said.
    Being almost seventeen, and all, I should certainly hope I was mature enough to handle it. I mean, what did she think I was going to do, anyway? Throw spitwads at the model?
    â€œI didn’t know I’d have to drive you downtown.” Theresa looked annoyed. “I have to take Rebecca to her karate lesson—”
    â€œQigong,” Rebecca corrected her.
    â€œWhatever,” Theresa said. “The art studio’s all the way downtown, the opposite direction—”
    â€œRelax,” I said. “I’m taking the Metro.”
    Theresa looked shocked. “But you can’t. You remember what happened last time.”
    Yeah. Nice of her to remind me. Last time I’d tried to ride the Metro, I’d run smack into a family reunion—literally all of these people wearing these bright yellow T-shirts that said Caution: Johnson Family Vacation In Progress , who’d recognized me, then swarmed all over