Read Online Between by Megan Whitmer - Free Book Online Page B

would’ve chosen to decorate my own place, if I’d been asked.
    To my left is the tiny kitchen, complete with a sink, refrigerator, and narrow island. I step toward it, running my hand along the smooth countertop. Seth leans against a small square table surrounded by four mismatched chairs. A teal bowl filled with fruit sits on top of it, and the sight of food momentarily deafens every thought in my head except for how hungry I am. I reach around him to grab a banana.
    “I knew you’d be hungry,” Seth says, like he’s some kind of genius for realizing a girl would want something to eat several hours after dinner.
    I strip the peel away and gulp it down in three bites. “Starving,” I say. I drop the peel in a small wastebasket tucked between the countertop and a dark brown leather couch.
    All the little details—from the brightly painted lamps on the end tables to the turquoise and melon throw pillows perched in the corners of the sofa—they’re just like the random splashes of color in my room back home.
    On the far wall, there are two arched doorways to the right of my bed. One is my closet, large enough to step inside but not exactly a walk-in, and the second is a—
    “Bathroom,” Seth calls as I peek inside.
    No sheet, Seth . I poke my head back into the main room. “Is that what that is? The toilet and claw-footed tub threw me off.”
    “Your sarcasm is completely wasted on me,” Seth says, flopping onto the couch and resting his feet on the white coffee table in front of it.
    I wander back to the closet. “Where did all the clothes come from?”
    “They’re yours.”
    “Really?” I step inside and drag my fingers along the clothes. He’s right. I recognize everything, from the light blue sundress I bought last week to my beloved gray Chuck Taylors right down to the faded, ripped jeans Mom hates so much. “How?”
    “We have a pretty extensive process in place for bringing Apprentices to Ellauria. I set yours in motion when I brought you into the Between. Basically, there’s a spell for everything. All of your clothes, jewelry, makeup, shoes, some photographs—whatever we can do to make it feel like home.”
    A silk-covered jewelry box sits on the dresser between the bathroom and closet. I flip the lid open. Yep. It’s all there. I don’t wear a lot of jewelry—just a few random pieces that put me in a good mood—but it’s nice to have them. I glance over my shoulder toward the bookshelf on the other side of the bed. The shelves are mostly empty, aside from a couple of notebooks and a jar of pencils. “Art supplies?”
    “They’re not here?” Seth sits up and turns toward the shelves, then stands to inspect them. He stares at the meager amount of supplies for a moment and frowns. “They should be here,” he murmurs. His brow lowers and he shakes his head. “I’ll look into it.”
    “But we can still get them, right?” I worked a long time on my collection of colors and charcoals. More than that, I want my sketchbooks.
    He runs his fingers along the notebooks and looks at the empty space that should be filled with my things. “I think so, but—”
    “Everything that’s ever meant anything to me is in them,” I say. The idea of being here without my drawings brings on an unexpected quiver in my belly. I need them. They’re more “home” to me than anything else I own.
    The sooner Mom and Sam get here, the better.
    Seth nods once, meeting my gaze. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
    I nod back.
    He’ll take care of it. It’s going to be okay.
    Listen to Seth .
    I step backward until the edge of the bed presses into the backs of my knees. I sit down and stretch out across the bright-green duvet cover, melting into its softness. A weird mix of exhaustion and alertness settles over me, like my mind and body are at war. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Seven o’clock? How big of a time difference is there?”
    He turns toward me, leaning his shoulder