Read Online Because I'm Disposable by Rosie Somers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rosie Somers
Ads: Link
to collect static electricity—right before the shock.
Then Link raised one hand to caress my neck, and I would have sworn I could feel the touch before it happened. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end, and I was having trouble focusing on anything except his hand on my skin, his lips on my lips, his body pressing delicately against mine.
But this kiss wasn’t like our first one. That one had been filled with nervous energy and tempered by uncertainty. This was sure, exploratory, and oh so sweet. I never wanted it to end.
Link nipped my bottom lip and pulled away. He looked down at me with heavy-lidded eyes for several panted breaths. I was a prisoner in his gaze—I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. I didn’t want to.
As if timed, a knock sounded on Link’s bedroom door. “Lincoln, everyone is here. Why don’t you bring Callie out and introduce her?” his mother called.
Link ran his thumb over my jawline, then backed away on a heavy exhale. “We should go downstairs.”
“Yeah,” I told him, though inside I was terrified to meet his family. His wholesome, functional, loving family. Would they be able to tell by looking at me how different my family was? Link claimed my hand, and like an obedient puppy, I let him lead me downstairs to the living room.
* * * * *
Link’s entire family were quite likely the sweetest people I had ever met. Well, except for grumpy Uncle Charlie who sat in the corner trying to tune everyone out while he watched the game on TV.
Link's family joked and laughed. And they hugged. They hugged to say hello; they hugged to say goodbye—they even hugged just because they were standing next to one another while singing Happy Birthday to Link. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone in my family had hugged—unless I counted the nights when Corrine cuddled up to me to comfort me after a beating.
“So, Callie, how long have you and Link known each other?” Link’s Aunt Margaret scooted closer to me on the couch as we watched Link open what might be the ugliest sweater I’d ever seen.
“Oh, uh, well we’ve known each other since my family moved in across the street when we were in Kindergarten.” I pointed in the general direction of my house. “But we weren’t really close until recently.”
Aunt Margaret’s blonde eyebrows shot up, disappearing behind her feathered bangs. “I thought from the way Lincoln talks about you that you’d been friends for much longer.”
I shrugged. Link talked about me to his family? I wasn’t sure if the idea of him telling them about me was flattering or terrifying. At least I could be certain he wouldn’t tell anyone about my father. Would he?
Right then, he was modeling that ugly, dark red sweater his Grandma Devaux had knitted for him. He was all sweetness and smiles out of consideration for his grandmother's feelings, though I was certain that inside he was cringing at the thought of wearing that maroon monstrosity out of the house. When his eyes met mine, they twinkled like we were sharing some private joke. Yes, he would keep my secrets forever if I asked him to.
Chapter Ten
I got to the bus stop early the next morning. Only Travis Kneely was there, huddled into a black coat, his usual backwards baseball cap covering his military-short, dark hair. He ignored me, instead keeping his attention narrowed on his phone. I preferred it when people didn’t acknowledge me. Being the center of attention was strange after so many years of trying to go unnoticed, trying to fly below the radar so no one would notice my latest bruises.
I sat in my usual spot under Mrs. Morisee’s little palm tree and settled my backpack next to me. Slowly, like prisoners headed to their execution, the neighborhood kids started to trickle up to the stop. Aaron Kneely sulked his way across the road from his house and took up position near his brother. Their coats matched—obviously they hadn’t picked them out. No self-respecting
Then Link raised one hand to caress my neck, and I would have sworn I could feel the touch before it happened. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end, and I was having trouble focusing on anything except his hand on my skin, his lips on my lips, his body pressing delicately against mine.
But this kiss wasn’t like our first one. That one had been filled with nervous energy and tempered by uncertainty. This was sure, exploratory, and oh so sweet. I never wanted it to end.
Link nipped my bottom lip and pulled away. He looked down at me with heavy-lidded eyes for several panted breaths. I was a prisoner in his gaze—I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. I didn’t want to.
As if timed, a knock sounded on Link’s bedroom door. “Lincoln, everyone is here. Why don’t you bring Callie out and introduce her?” his mother called.
Link ran his thumb over my jawline, then backed away on a heavy exhale. “We should go downstairs.”
“Yeah,” I told him, though inside I was terrified to meet his family. His wholesome, functional, loving family. Would they be able to tell by looking at me how different my family was? Link claimed my hand, and like an obedient puppy, I let him lead me downstairs to the living room.
* * * * *
Link’s entire family were quite likely the sweetest people I had ever met. Well, except for grumpy Uncle Charlie who sat in the corner trying to tune everyone out while he watched the game on TV.
Link's family joked and laughed. And they hugged. They hugged to say hello; they hugged to say goodbye—they even hugged just because they were standing next to one another while singing Happy Birthday to Link. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone in my family had hugged—unless I counted the nights when Corrine cuddled up to me to comfort me after a beating.
“So, Callie, how long have you and Link known each other?” Link’s Aunt Margaret scooted closer to me on the couch as we watched Link open what might be the ugliest sweater I’d ever seen.
“Oh, uh, well we’ve known each other since my family moved in across the street when we were in Kindergarten.” I pointed in the general direction of my house. “But we weren’t really close until recently.”
Aunt Margaret’s blonde eyebrows shot up, disappearing behind her feathered bangs. “I thought from the way Lincoln talks about you that you’d been friends for much longer.”
I shrugged. Link talked about me to his family? I wasn’t sure if the idea of him telling them about me was flattering or terrifying. At least I could be certain he wouldn’t tell anyone about my father. Would he?
Right then, he was modeling that ugly, dark red sweater his Grandma Devaux had knitted for him. He was all sweetness and smiles out of consideration for his grandmother's feelings, though I was certain that inside he was cringing at the thought of wearing that maroon monstrosity out of the house. When his eyes met mine, they twinkled like we were sharing some private joke. Yes, he would keep my secrets forever if I asked him to.
Chapter Ten
I got to the bus stop early the next morning. Only Travis Kneely was there, huddled into a black coat, his usual backwards baseball cap covering his military-short, dark hair. He ignored me, instead keeping his attention narrowed on his phone. I preferred it when people didn’t acknowledge me. Being the center of attention was strange after so many years of trying to go unnoticed, trying to fly below the radar so no one would notice my latest bruises.
I sat in my usual spot under Mrs. Morisee’s little palm tree and settled my backpack next to me. Slowly, like prisoners headed to their execution, the neighborhood kids started to trickle up to the stop. Aaron Kneely sulked his way across the road from his house and took up position near his brother. Their coats matched—obviously they hadn’t picked them out. No self-respecting
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