Read Online A Fate Totally Worse Than Death by Paul Fleischman - Free Book Online Page B

short when she reached behind herself to wash her buttocks and found, in dismay, that they weren’t where they used to be. She craned her neck, dropped her washcloth, and felt frantically with her hands. Aghast, she found them six inches lower than usual, sagging like a pair of flat tires. She wavered, disbelieving, oblivious of her surroundings. She thought back to her taut, faultless figure, recalling her lengthy sessions beneath the outdoor shower at the beach, ostensibly to remove the sand, knowing the guys were stripping her in their minds. She closed her eyes, revolted by her body. Sinking down slowly, she sat on the tiles and let the water strike her head. She’d read horror novels by the score, had met demons, werewolves, and demented killers with blood on their hands and murder in their hearts. None of that, she swore, could touch the gruesome, ghastly terror of aging. She rested her head on her knees and cried.
    Forty minutes later, she set out for school. She’d lost two more teeth at breakfast, but had been fortunate that both were molars. She reminded herself not to open her mouth wide. Sunglasses hid the dark bags below her eyes. Each strand of her hair had been pulled up and pinned tight, safe from sight beneath her red beret. She’d scooped her breasts into her jogging bra. She’d raised her posterior in similar fashion, squeezing it into her tightest lycra shorts. She wondered if others could sense the strain of wearing this clown’s trunk of disguises or whether she looked perfectly normal. She crossed Via Serena, looked up, and ardently hoped for the latter answer. Drew was marching down his walk just at the moment she passed it.
    â€œHi,” she said, delighted at her luck. She’d been trying to attract his attention for weeks, but could never find him without Helga at his side. “How ya doin?” She flashed a big smile, then feared she’d revealed her missing teeth and quickly snapped her mouth shut.
    â€œI’m late, as a matter of fact.”
    â€œYeah?” She pushed the word out through her sealed lips. She glimpsed his BMW in the garage, between the Ferrari and the silver Rolls Royce. Laboring to match his long strides, she imagined riding with him in the Rolls, the envy of all the Huns. She wondered why he no longer drove, and why someone so rich would wear the same patched jeans and ratty shoes every day. Once they were a couple, she’d give his wardrobe a do-over.
    â€œI usually leave at seven,” he said.
    Danielle pretended fascination with his words while stealthily checking her beret’s position.
    â€œHelga and I usually meet before school. To talk about what we’ve been reading.”
    Danielle strained to maintain her blithe expression. There’d been no trace of apology in his words, no remorse, no thought of her at all. For the first time, the fact struck her square between the eyes. He never
had
given her a thought. Though she saw him constantly in her mind, and saw herself as the love of his life and heir to his staggering fortune, he never noticed her at all unless, as today, she was blocking his path. Was he immune to good looks? Gay perhaps? Then why was he surgically attached to Helga? And before Helga there’d been Charity. Danielle’s body outshone both of theirs, or had until that morning. She stared daggers at him from behind her dark glasses. Enraged at his rejection, clinging by her fingernails to her fantasies, she decided to lay her ace on the table.
    â€œI suppose that you’re aware,” she stated, her voice trembling, “that Helga is a ghost.” She waited smugly for her words to take effect.
    â€œRight,” said Drew.
    They walked through the Hundred Palms Estates gateway.
    â€œYou think I’m kidding?” panted Danielle. She had a long coughing attack. She was having trouble keeping up and felt painfully short of breath.
    â€œKidding or crazy,” Drew