The Illusion of Annabella Read Free Page B

fleeting flashes of light every time one of the rays hits my eyes.
     
    “It’s going to rain today,” I comment as thunder rumbles in the distance while the clouds brew up an early summer storm.
     
    “Only in the morning,” she says. “It should be completely rain free by the time your party starts.”
     
    Great, now I feel jittery again, and my excitement over the surprise dwindles.
     
    Noting my frown, she turns down the volume of the radio. “No being sad on your birthday. You have to be happy today. It’s a rule.”
     
    “I’m not frowning because I’m sad. I’m frowning because,” I pick at my fingernails, an anxious habit of mine, “I’m nervous.”
     
    “About?”
     
    “Um, a . . . Never mind. I can’t tell you.”
     
    “Oh, come on, Anna. I’d like to think that I’m a cool enough mom that you feel like you can tell me these things.” Turning the wheel, she makes a sudden right down an unfamiliar dirt road.
     
    “What things?” I sit up straight and peer out the window. “And where are we going?”
     
    At the end of the road, enclosed by a field of dry grass, is a blue and white two-story Victorian home. Beside the house is a faded red barn with a painted sign, Honeyton Antiques and Things .
     
    “I wonder what ‘things’ stands for,” I joke.
     
    “Who knows,” she says with a grin, playing along.
     
    “Is this my surprise?” I wonder, getting super excited. “Wait. Are we playing the antique game?”
     
    “Nope, not this time. And stop changing the subject.” She parks in front of the narrow path decorated with roses and leaves the engine idling. “Now, tell me what’s with the frown, Charlie Brown.”
     
    “I don’t want to . . . It’s so stupid . . . you’re going to think I’m stupid.”
     
    “Try me.”
     
    “Fine.” I heave a dramatic sigh. “It’s about a boy.”
     
    She muses. “It always is, isn’t it?”
     
    I lift my shoulders, shrugging. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve felt this way about a guy before.”
     
    She gives me a really? look, because I’ve probably said the same thing to her at least a dozen times. “I’m guessing the guy is coming to your party tonight?”
     
    “How’d you guess?”
     
    She glances at the dress I’m wearing. “Because of the fashion meltdown you had this morning.”
     
    “Was I that obvious?” I hope Ben doesn’t pick up on my crush on him.
     
    She thrums her fingers against the console. “Give me, like, five minutes to run inside and then you and I are going to have a very long talk.” She reaches for the door handle and opens the door.
     
    I lower my feet from the dash. “About what?”
     
    She swings her feet to the ground. “About the World of Women.”
     
    “It sounds like the title of a book. World of Women, a secret society built on gossip, shopping, and a lust for men.” I pucker my lips and flip my hair off my shoulder.
     
    She points a finger at me as she gets out of the car. “Sounds like someone’s been spending a little too much time in the romance section of your father’s store.”
     
    “He made me stock the shelves, and I can’t help it. I get bored and read the blurbs.”
     
    “Well, I’d rather not hear you say the word lust again.” She starts to close the door, but pauses. “From now on, you’ll call it an adorable little crush, because you’re seventeen-years-old, and you aren’t allowed to be lustful or whatever the books are calling it.”
     
    I laugh at her, and smiling, she bumps the door shut. Instead of heading to the barn, she hikes up the path to the house, but I figure that’s probably part of the store, too.
     
    I flip through the radio stations, and start obsessing over all things Ben.
     
    Settling on the alternative station, I sing along until my phone vibrates. I retrieve it from my pocket and open the message from Cece, my best friend since kindergarten. In some ways we’re similar in the sense that we both love to