The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond Read Free Page B

checkout counter.
    â€œYou should put back the rhinestone collar,” Daisy said.
    â€œPlease,” I begged, grinning. “After all, I am your favorite sister.”
    â€œVous êtes ma seule soeur,”
Daisy replied as she dug out the extra money I needed and handed it to the cashier.
    â€œIn English, please,” I replied.
    â€œYou’re my only sister,” Daisy translated.
    â€œShe’s your sister?” the woman asked Daisy.
    â€œObviously,” Daisy replied.
    The woman glanced from me to Daisy and then back at me, doing that thing I hate—like she was trying to figure out the answer to a riddle.
    Inside, I felt like a miniature volcano that needed to erupt.
    You’re an imbecile, an ignoramus, a moron!
    Leave the stuff on the counter.
    Grab Daisy’s hand and leave.
    But I didn’t cause a scene in the store. Instead, like I do when I’m really mad at someone, I glared at the lady, took a deep breath, breathed out through my nose, and imagined fire shooting out like a dragon.
    Outside, Daisy took the change the cashier had given her and dropped it in my hand. “You owe me.”
    I threw the bag of stuff in the car, slammed the door, cuddled Hazel, and frowned.
    â€œPlease take that poor-Violet-feeling-sorry-for-herself look off your face,” Daisy told me.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe look you always get when someone looks at us weird or asks a ridiculous question like that cashier did.”
    So, Daisy does notice . . .
    â€œI don’t like it when that happens . . . and it makes me mad,” I said.
    â€œWelcome to Earth. Some people are stupid. She’s one of them. You have to get over it.”
    I erupted on Daisy. “Get over it? You don’t understand! You’re not me!”
    â€œAnd you’re not me!” she snapped back.
    â€œYou’re right! I’m not the breathtaking queen of the world!”
    Everything went hush and time froze.
    But when we pulled into the driveway, Daisy sighed, said, “Sorry, V,” and reached for my hand.
    I jerked away. “Too late,” I grumbled. “Way too late,” I whispered, and was climbing out of the car when Daisy tugged on my jacket and sat me back down.
    Softly, she said, “For the record, I don’t like it when people do that, either, but that’s their problem. This is not about them, it’s about us. Try not to let it upset you. You’re my li’l sis and I love you, and no brainless zombie creature can change that. Chill.”
    Li’l sis. I like it when she calls me that. I took a very deep breath and sighed. “Love you, too,” I told her.
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    Later that night, when Mom came into my room, I put aside the book I was reading and we both admired Hazel for a very long time, but I was still upset about the lady in the pet store and it must have shown. Mom cupped my face in her hand and gazed into my eyes. Like the warm sun, so much love shone from her. “Is everything okay, Violet?”
    Mom is good at lots of things, especially worrying about me.
    Part of me wanted to tell her about some of the stuff I felt inside—that sometimes I had a strange loneliness and that I got tired of idiotic questions and how I hated being the only black kid in class this past year and how I wished there were more African American people in Moon Lake so I wouldn’t always stand out so much and how I already missed Athena—but the other part of me decided to keep quiet.
After all,
I thought as I glanced around my pretty purple room with the four-poster bed, flat-screen TV, and computer,
we live in a very nice house and I have more cool stuff than any girl could want.
    â€œYes,” I replied, “everything is okay.”
    â€œOkay, but if you need to talk—”
    I interrupted, “I know . . . you have ears.” It’s one of her sayings.
    She kissed the top of my