The Seventh Sister, A Paranormal Romance Read Free Page A

colder and sort of dry.”
    She takes another long pause. It’s strange. I can feel the heaviness in the silence.
    “Mom, are you there?” I ask.
    “Yes,” she barely says.
    “Are you okay?” Now I’m worried about her.
    “Listen, Z-cup, stay inside. Don’t go out for anything, not even if the yard is on fire. Understand?”
    She called me Z-cup , which she only does when she wants me to feel comforted.
    “Sure, mom,” I haphazardly agree.
    I mean, I do have the issue of the dance. All I need is for Lowenstein to call Deanna and tell her that I missed homeroom three times last week. When Mr. Pratt, our principal, asked me why I chose to miss class, all I could come up with was the truth: homeroom is a gross waste of time. I think my answer and the nonchalant way I said it really worried him. He sent me over to see Lowenstein right away. After asking me a multitude of questions about friends, which I have none, and activities that I’m involved in, which again added up to zero, she imparted the punishment of me having to work every school event for the next three months.
    “That’s almost the rest of the school year,” I cried.
    “I know,” she said, and then stretched her lips into that smile I hate.
    Of course, I could blow tonight off and fight this sentence. I could use my grades as evidence that I’m doing all right in school and missing homeroom doesn’t affect that. My grade point average is well above three point zero, but words like “missing class” and “punishment” are hot-button words to my mother. She goes way overboard and before I know it, Aunt Jill, a long-time nanny who really isn’t my aunt, will come knocking on the door to announce she’s come to, exact words, “babysit” me. And that’s a whole other experience.
    Before hanging up, Deanna assures me that she’ll be home as soon as possible. She’s in Sydney right now, but she’s taking the first flight out. When I asked, “Because of the fog,” she just hung up without a reply.
    I move forward with my earlier plan to call the school. One of the ladies in the office tells me indeed, there’s still a dance tonight .
    “Great,” I say and hang up.
    There’s no way I’m going to be AWOL. After I eat the salad, I sit down to read the chapters Mr. Lux assigned and then finish up my trigonometry homework. It takes all of an hour and a half. More homework was assigned to me as well. Read The Tempest by Shakespeare and chapter sixteen of the world geology text on Third World industrial products, but this is stuff I’ve already read the first two weeks of the new school year. Back then, I figured why not get a jump on it all because, I felt if I could hurry up and get it done, then maybe it’ll speed up the process of finishing high school. I guess it didn’t work.
    At seven-thirty, I throw on an old pair of loose-fitting jeans and a white tee shirt under a navy blue cable knit sweater. The goal is to look like the help and not the partygoer. I don’t know what to do with all of my hair. Ponytails and tie-ups are out of the question; they’re too binding and I need to be free, always free. Even I must admit I look too much like a Calvin Klein ad with it down. The goal is to blend in, go unnoticed—I wonder when or if that day will ever come. Regardless of how I look, time is ticking away so I grab my green wool winter coat and hit the door.
    When I get outside, I see the fog has lifted. The sky is congested with gloomy clouds. It’s extra dark tonight, which makes Moonridge look even more like one of those tiny deserted towns on the edge of nowhere important. I don’t want to walk tonight because it’s just too depressing.
    Deanna bought me a black Jeep Wrangler with black tinted windows that I mostly only drive out to Whole Foods in Portland, Maine to shop for groceries. I’ll take it tonight because I want to feel like I’m driving far away from this town and not pulling double duty at the local high