Read Online Blood Red by Wendy Corsi Staub - Free Book Online Page A

in the fall. Mr. Mundy is employed as an advertising executive in New York City.

 
    Chapter 3
    T he work week passed without further incident. For that, Rowan is grateful. She hasn’t allowed herself to completely forget about the package of burnt cookies, still tucked away beneath the attic rafters, but she’s gone from dwelling on it in a constant state of paranoia to accepting that it happened and trying to move on.
    That’s much easier to accomplish in some moments than in others. During the days when she’s busy in the classroom, she barely has time to think about it, much less check her Facebook page to see whether Rick Walker has responded to her errant friend request. But her nights at home have been marked by frequent and futile Facebook patrols and by restless worrying and wondering and very little sleep.
    By the time Friday night rolls around, she’s feeling utterly drained. She’d much prefer climbing into bed in her pajamas to climbing into the bleachers in the high school gym. But Mick has a home game, and she never misses one.
    Her friend Nancy Vandergraaf does a double take as Rowan settles onto the bench beside her. “Rowan! I didn’t recognize you without your red hair. What happened?”
    â€œI got old,” she says wryly.
    â€œIf you’re old, then I’m ancient.”
    Nancy, who used to be Nancy Morrison, graduated Mundy’s Landing High two years ahead of Rowan and steadily dated her brother Danny. He went on to marry his college sweetheart and lives in California, while Nancy married—­and later messily divorced—­Danny’s former best friend, Chris­tian Vandergraaf. Rowan wasn’t living here when that particular small-­town drama unfolded, but Nancy had long since filled her in. She talks a lot and spares very few details.
    She particularly enjoys bringing up their shared high school past, which she remembers far more fondly than Rowan. Nancy was a class officer and honor student whose glory days unfolded beneath this very roof, while Rowan was the quintessential party girl whose memories of that era are often shrouded in a haze of forbidden substances.
    â€œSo where’s Jake tonight?” Nancy wants to know.
    â€œHe’s having dinner with a ­couple of sales reps in Albany but he’s going to try to make the second half of the game.” Rowan presses a hand to her mouth as a yawn escapes her. “Sorry. Long week.”
    â€œTell me about it.” Nancy launches into a drawn-­out personal drama involving a plumber, a flea-­ridden dog, a cold sore, and a Christmas gift that’s been backordered until February.
    Nancy, whose only child plays on the team with Mick, is one of those irritating ­people who, if you’re tired, will tell you she’s more tired; if you’re busy, she’s busier; if you’ve had bad news, she’s had worse. Sometimes Rowan nips her monologues in the bud, but tonight, she lets her talk. The tirade blends with the chatter of the gathering crowd around them and the cheerleaders’ chants and the squeaking of basketball shoes on the polished hardwoods as the team warms up.
    Then Nancy interrupts herself to whisper, “Look at Diane Westerly pretending she has no clue who’s sitting behind her.”
    Rowan looks. “What do you mean?”
    â€œYou’re kidding, right?”
    â€œWrong. Who’s sitting behind her?”
    â€œLynda Carlotta!” When that fails to get a reaction, Nancy adds, “You didn’t hear?”
    â€œObviously not.” Rowan rubs her burning shoulder blade, not really caring whether she hears now, or not.
    â€œDiane’s having an affair with Jim Carlotta.”
    Affair.
    The word brings Rowan right back to Monday, and the box filled with burnt cookies, and Rick Walker.
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    â€œEveryone knows. Everyone except Lynda, anyway.” Nancy shakes her