Read Online Bad Girls Don't Die by Katie Alender - Free Book Online
Authors: Katie Alender
Ads: Link
in the darkest corner of the room, near the long-abandoned tool bench, making clanking noises as it dug through piles of discarded junk. Werewolf , my brain said. Zombie! I snatched the flashlight off the card table and switched it on.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
My sister looked up at me, squinting into the beam of light. “Oh, hi.”
“Answer me,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I heard something,” she said, wiping her hands on her pants. “And then I . . . I thought I would see if I could find your ancestor report.”
“Why would it be down here?”
She shook her head. “I thought you moved your old file cabinet down here when you got the new one.”
“No. They’re both in my closet,” I said. “Now come upstairs.”
She started slowly through the sea of junk, using her left hand to steady herself.
“Are you holding something?” I asked.
“What?” she said.
“In your right hand.”
“No.”
“Are you . . .” I sighed. “Forget it. I’m going upstairs.”
The headachy, sleepy feeling was coming back. I wondered if maybe we had a toxic mold problem. As an afterthought I pointed the light at the pipes on the ceiling. Now that I was standing up, I was close enough to see the red marks for what they really were—
Skulls and crossbones. Dozens of them, stamped on sloppily.
Nice. So glad to know we’d been breathing poison air all night.
I climbed the stairs and went back to my spot at the kitchen table, drawing deep breaths to clear out my lungs.
Kasey followed me as far as the kitchen doorway. “Can you go get your ancestor report?” she asked.
“Why don’t you go get it?” I asked. “Look in the cabinet on the left, top drawer—eighth-grade history, Miss Cardillo.”
Kasey nodded, then looked sheepish. “Will you make me mac and cheese?” she asked sweetly, crinkling her nose. “Pleeeease? I’ll do the dishes.”
I shrugged. I was feeling a little better. “Sure.”
She took a second, concentrating on something down to her right side, something hidden by the wall so I couldn’t see it.
“What is that?” I demanded.
She froze and looked up. Caught.
“What’s what?”
“Whatever’s in your hand.”
“I don’t have anything in my hand, Lexi,” she said.
I stared at her, and she gazed serenely back at me.
Just to be a little mean, I clicked the flashlight on and shined it at her face.
And maybe I was just tired or something, but—
Her eyes . . .
They were green.
Vivid green.
“I . . .” I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Never mind.”
“See you in a sec,” she said, disappearing up the stairs.
A FEW MINUTES LATER Kasey came hippity-hopping into the kitchen with the report in hand, singing to herself. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and sat down.
She twirled a piece of her hair around a finger and flipped through the pages while I collected the dirty dinner dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
Somebody had to clean up. Mom would be content leaving them until the weekend. Dad might have done it when he got home, but it gave me something to do while Kasey read over my stuff and decided how much she could risk copying without getting caught.
“Mom’s grandma was born in Surrey?” Kasey asked.
“Is that what it says?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Then . . . yes.”
“Ooh,” she said, unfolding a big sheet of newsprint. “Your family tree is pretty.”
I glanced at it and remembered how the teacher was so impressed that she hung it on the wall. That was back when teachers still liked me.
“I’d better make a new one,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table and skipping toward the stairs.
Content with the clean kitchen, I took out a saucepan and filled it with water for the noodles. I set it on the stove and remembered that I hadn’t wiped off the table.
I went back to the dining room with a dishrag, and when I looked out into the hallway I saw that the basement door was open, just a crack.
Kasey
“What are you doing?” I asked.
My sister looked up at me, squinting into the beam of light. “Oh, hi.”
“Answer me,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I heard something,” she said, wiping her hands on her pants. “And then I . . . I thought I would see if I could find your ancestor report.”
“Why would it be down here?”
She shook her head. “I thought you moved your old file cabinet down here when you got the new one.”
“No. They’re both in my closet,” I said. “Now come upstairs.”
She started slowly through the sea of junk, using her left hand to steady herself.
“Are you holding something?” I asked.
“What?” she said.
“In your right hand.”
“No.”
“Are you . . .” I sighed. “Forget it. I’m going upstairs.”
The headachy, sleepy feeling was coming back. I wondered if maybe we had a toxic mold problem. As an afterthought I pointed the light at the pipes on the ceiling. Now that I was standing up, I was close enough to see the red marks for what they really were—
Skulls and crossbones. Dozens of them, stamped on sloppily.
Nice. So glad to know we’d been breathing poison air all night.
I climbed the stairs and went back to my spot at the kitchen table, drawing deep breaths to clear out my lungs.
Kasey followed me as far as the kitchen doorway. “Can you go get your ancestor report?” she asked.
“Why don’t you go get it?” I asked. “Look in the cabinet on the left, top drawer—eighth-grade history, Miss Cardillo.”
Kasey nodded, then looked sheepish. “Will you make me mac and cheese?” she asked sweetly, crinkling her nose. “Pleeeease? I’ll do the dishes.”
I shrugged. I was feeling a little better. “Sure.”
She took a second, concentrating on something down to her right side, something hidden by the wall so I couldn’t see it.
“What is that?” I demanded.
She froze and looked up. Caught.
“What’s what?”
“Whatever’s in your hand.”
“I don’t have anything in my hand, Lexi,” she said.
I stared at her, and she gazed serenely back at me.
Just to be a little mean, I clicked the flashlight on and shined it at her face.
And maybe I was just tired or something, but—
Her eyes . . .
They were green.
Vivid green.
“I . . .” I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Never mind.”
“See you in a sec,” she said, disappearing up the stairs.
A FEW MINUTES LATER Kasey came hippity-hopping into the kitchen with the report in hand, singing to herself. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and sat down.
She twirled a piece of her hair around a finger and flipped through the pages while I collected the dirty dinner dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
Somebody had to clean up. Mom would be content leaving them until the weekend. Dad might have done it when he got home, but it gave me something to do while Kasey read over my stuff and decided how much she could risk copying without getting caught.
“Mom’s grandma was born in Surrey?” Kasey asked.
“Is that what it says?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Then . . . yes.”
“Ooh,” she said, unfolding a big sheet of newsprint. “Your family tree is pretty.”
I glanced at it and remembered how the teacher was so impressed that she hung it on the wall. That was back when teachers still liked me.
“I’d better make a new one,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table and skipping toward the stairs.
Content with the clean kitchen, I took out a saucepan and filled it with water for the noodles. I set it on the stove and remembered that I hadn’t wiped off the table.
I went back to the dining room with a dishrag, and when I looked out into the hallway I saw that the basement door was open, just a crack.
Kasey
Similar Books
