Wishing Pearl Read Free Page B

cans on the floor and two from the rumpled comforter. Where was the sixth one? She searched under the bed and behind the television.
    Jordyn giggled and slinked a hand into her jacket. She pulled out a half-full beer and lifted it into the air. “I was saving a roadie.” Raising it a couple of inches higher, she chimed, “Cheers,” then polished it off and crushed the can. Without another word, she dropped it into Olivia’s garbage, turned on her heels, and made her way in a sort of zigzag pattern across Olivia’s room toward the door.
    Third option. “If you won’t stay, let me at least call you a taxi.” There had to be numbers in the phone book for that, right?
    “Yeah, and I’m supposed to explain that to my parents how?” Jordyn waved her hand. “Stop being such a baby. I’ll be fine.” She peered into the mirror and straightened one of her cockeyed braids. “I do this all the time. Everyone does. Besides, this is nothing, really.”
    Olivia felt for the cell phone in her pocket. Maybe she should call Jordyn’s parents. Jordyn would probably hate Olivia for it, but at least she’d be safe. But then everyone would know Olivia had turned in her new best friend. No one would want to hang out with her, and she’d be alone again. She’d never made friends very easily. How smart would it be to betray the one good friend she’d found? But what kind of friend would let Jordyn drive drunk? Even if she made it home and nothing happened tonight, what about next time? Olivia would have to talk to her about this. She couldn’t just sit back and let it continue.
    “Bye!” Jordyn sailed through the door, her braids whipping behind her.
    Frozen in place, Olivia let her go.

Chapter 2
    H ey! Open this door. I will
not
have locked doors in my house!”
    Olivia bolted up from her sound sleep, pulled the covers to her chin—not that they could protect her…. Nothing could. She peeked at the clock. One in the morning. “I’m sleeping. Can we talk tomorrow?” Olivia tried to keep her voice from trembling.
Please go away. Please go away
. Would Charles break the door down again?
    “You will open up right now, young lady.” Charles stopped rattling the knob after he bellowed his demand, obviously expecting her to obey. And judging by the slur in his words and past experience, Olivia figured she’d better. Like her entire body, her feet felt numb under the covers. How would she force them to walk to the door? She searched her suite for one last chance at help. Anything.
    All the way on the other side of the room, her cell phone lay on the desk where she’d plugged it in to charge before she climbed into bed. Could she get to it and call Jake before opening the door? Probably, but—she shuddered at a recent memory—if she made Charles wait, he’d bust in and everything would be much worse for her. What about dialing 911? What would she say to them if she called? That her stepfather wanted her bedroom door unlocked? The police wouldn’t care about that. Charles hadn’t laid a finger on her yet, at least not tonight. Jake would care, but he wouldn’t be able to get home in time, and what could he do anyway? What could anyone do?
    “I’m waiting and I am
not
happy.” Charles spoke with a measured, even tone. He had no intention of going away.
    Olivia stretched a shaky foot toward the floor and slid from her bed. Goose bumps layered upon goose bumps covered her from head to toe. Why hadn’t she worn something more modest to bed? She tugged at her teeny shorts and stretched the bottom hem of the tank top that barely reached her waist. A mammoth sweat suit would have been way better. Where had she put that thick robe she’d gotten from Grandma last Christmas? Still in the box buried under a pile of shoes on the floor of her cavernous closet, most likely—which was all the way in the bathroom. She’d never make it there and find it in time.
    “Charles, it’s just—I’m tired.”
Please go away.