Rolling Dice Read Free Page A

like she should have pit-bull terriers at her feet, and a huge Harley Davidson; she sounds like a really sweet mom who’s always baking her kids cookies.
    “Um,” I say, “I’m just looking …”
    I turn back to the window. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her scrutinizing me, and it makes me shift from foot to foot uncomfortably.
    “Ever thought of having your nose pierced, hon?”
    I shake my head. “No.”
    “It’d suit you,” she tells me, and there’s a smile in her voice. “On the right side, though, because of where your bangs are.”
    “Oh. Well, I never really thought about it.”
    “Well, you know where to find me if you ever change your mind—okay, hon?”
    I turn to look at her and she gives me a warm smile.
    A nose piercing? Mom and Dad would kill me. Didn’t it hurt? What if it got infected?
    But the new Madison is meant to be spontaneous, right?
    And it does sound kind of cool … Plus, it’d suit my new “rock-chic” hair, wouldn’t it?
    I haven’t even finished thinking it through when I hear myself saying, “You know what? Sure. Why not.”
    The lady (I’m guessing she’s Bette of Bette’s Urban Body Art Parlor) raises her eyebrows at me. “You sure, hon?”
    And I smile and nod before following her inside, despite the fact that I’m pretty much freaking out—because a) I have the feeling it’s going to hurt really bad, and b) I’m
so
dead when I get home …

Chapter 3
    The nose piercing hurts like heck.
    When I first see myself in the mirror, I can find barely any resemblance of my old self. The “rock-chic” haircut and the sparkly blue stud in my nose are one thing, but the artfully ripped Abercrombie shorts and a cute blue tank top with matching flip-flops are also hugely different from the old me.
    I picture myself as I was back when I started out in high school. Chubby, and with thick lenses in my wiry glasses, and braces I’d had for at least a year. A shapeless sweater and jeans, to make it less obvious that I was far from a size zero.
    It would’ve been better if I’d been invisible. But I wasn’t. It would’ve been better if I was really smart; but I only got As when I worked for them, so I wasn’t a nerd. It would’ve been better if I was a band geek or in the chess club—but I wasn’t.
    I shake my head, because none of that matters now, not here. I don’t have to be that person anymore. I’m forgetting about her.
    I smile at my reflection. Definitely cool, daring
and
spontaneous.
    I’m pretty pleased with myself as I walk home. Not just because of the piercing, and not just because a cute guy put his number in my cell phone, but because everything is finally looking up for me.
    Well, until I get home, at least.
    “Is that you, Madison?”
    “Considering I’m the only other person in this state who has a key to the house, no, Mom, it’s not me,” I call back.
    The house smells of cooking, and I automatically know that Dad’s been making pasta. I breathe in deeply: Dad’s cooking always smells amazing. Mom’s cooking often smells a little more … burned.
    “You’re just in time for dinner,” she says, popping her head around the kitchen door for a moment. As I take off my shoes she carries on, “Did you find a cell phone?”
    “Yeah. It has Internet and stuff.” I don’t specify the “stuff” because I’m not entirely sure what the “stuff” consists of just yet. I only know how to send a text, make a phone call, and open Google.
    “That’s good.”
    She doesn’t even ask me how much it cost. She’s just glad I’m acting like a normal teenager.
    I walk into the kitchen, which is all wooden units and ceramic tiling and beige walls, as Dad is dishing out pasta. I grab a plate and sit down at the table.
    “Did you finish putting the rest of the boxes in the attic?” I ask.
    “Yep,” Dad tells me smugly. Mom’s been bugging him to move all the old photo albums and toys from when me and Jenna were kids—you know, the